Page 28 of Wolf's Prize

“It is a little early in the morning to be so flustered, child. Whatever is the matter?” Anne dipped the spoon into the pot, brought it to her mouth, and tasted the stew. “Mmm. Perhaps a little more rosemary.” She added a sprinkle of chopped herb to the pot and stirred it in.

“Monsieur Aimon has gone.” Kathryn crossed her arms across her chest, reining in her ire. She needed Anne as an ally. “And he has left orders he expects me to obey.”

“Mmm-hmm. Those would be the directions you are not to leave the keep, I take it?”

“Yes. And Gascon said the gate guard would not let me pass. I know we have only arrived but yesterday, but Aimon is not the master of this keep. Why would the servants obey him? And the gall of him. He did not wait till I awoke. No good morrow, Kathryn. Not even a fare-thee-well, only directions. I thought he had left, never to return. I will not be able to contain myself if I cannot access the forest.”

“What upsets you more, child? That he curtailed your freedoms, or he did not say goodbye?”

“Both.” She gasped, covering her hand with her mouth.

The old cook chuckled, and her eyes sparkled. “He only has your best interests at heart.”

Kathryn jutted out her chin. “Really? We shall see about that.”

Anne brandished her spoon at her. “Do not go thinking about disobeying now. We do not want to have to send someone out to fetch you and bring you back.”

Kathryn gaped at Anne. “You would not dare?”

Anne raised an eyebrow at her.

“Oooh.” She stamped her foot and brushed past a startled young maid as she stomped out of the kitchen. Let the servants gossip about her temper. It would not be the first time someone had accused her of behavior unbecoming of a lady. When Aimon returned, she would tellhimwhat she thought of his orders. That would really give them something to talk about.

The nerve of him. He was not her father, her husband or the comte. He had no authority to give her orders. On principle, she should defy him. From the look on Anne’s face, though, the old cook would not hesitate to send someone to drag her back. By her hair if necessary. That indignity she could not, would not, bear.

Muttering to herself, Kathryn stalked the corridors of the keep, glowering at everything and everyone she encountered. Her new abode had luxuries she had only ever imagined, but she resented it. Wealth should grant greater freedoms, but for her it had all but curtailed them. First the comte, and now Aimon. Kathryn kicked out at a piece of furniture, hurting her toes and having no effect on the chair.

She was being childish. She had more fortitude than this. At the very least, it should please her he would be returning. That he had not forsaken her in search of a more amenable match. She resolved to bear the restrictions on her person with, if not good humor, at least a measure of grace befitting her station. Her future lay in this keep, with or without Aimon, and she need not give the servants any more reason to think her a shrew.

Kathryn’s restraint lasted until the following morning. With no immediate need to be in the forest, her wolf, for once, was content. She was not. Aimon’s edict chafed. Leaving her bedchamber and a bemused Anne, she sought out her father. He would support her.

She found him still secluded in the library, his face unshaven and his clothes rumpled, mumbling to himself as he sorted through the tomes and scrolls.

“Father?”

His head snapped up. “Kathryn.” He swallowed, his gaze shifting away from her.

Dark circles ringed his eyes.Has he not slept at all?

“Father, is something wrong? This is not like you.” The events of their first night here had been stressful, but… “Is this because I transformed again?”

His shoulders slumped. Was her father ashamed of her for her loss of control? Hadhesent Aimon away, determined she should never shift again? Or worse, believing her claim she did not wish to marry Aimon?

“Come, Kathryn. Come sit down.” He motioned her to a chair, pulled another close then sat, his gaze on his hands, his fingers clasped tight. “I want you to know, Kathryn, whatever you may think of me, I never meant to hurt you. What I did…” He paused, taking a deep, tremulous breath. “What I did, I did because I thought it the best for you. For us. I did what I did to protect you.” He reached out and grasped her hands. He looked up at her, pleading.

“Father, what do you speak of? What is it you have done?”

“I…I knew.”

She stared at him, puzzled. “You knew what, exactly?”

He dragged in a deep breath. “I knew about the d’Louncrais. About your aunt. I have always known what they were.” He hung his head.

Kathryn shook her head, frowning. “What? You—?”

He cut her off. “I thought the two of us, we could handle things. Work it out together. I did not want you drawn into that world. My sister was, and she died because of it. I had lost your mother, my sister… I could not bear losing you, too.”

The air rushed out of her lungs and the room closed in. What was he saying? She pulled her hands out of her father’s grasp. “You…you knew? All along you have known? That I was not alone? That there were others like me?” She stared at her father, eyes brimming with tears. “Why would you keep that from me?”

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