Page 33 of Wolf's Prize

He smiled. “Then let us begin.”

He walked toward her, lithe and silent, and brushed past her into the corridor. She inhaled his scent, and her wolf stirred in response. How was it possible for a man to smell so divine? She turned and followed him, taking two steps to his one. What would he look like as a wolf? Rangy and lean, or big and muscled? Would his fur be as pale as his hair, and his eyes the same piercing blue?

She halted at the foot of the stairwell as he ascended the stairs. “Are we not going into the forest?”

“Patience, Kathryn. I will take you there when you are ready. Not before.”

“Oh.” She raced to catch up to him. What could he possibly teach her within the walls of the d’Louncrais keep? He did not stop at the next floor, instead taking another set of stairs. And on the top floor, no less? Perhaps he planned to teach her how to use a sword first. She bit back her disappointment.

But upon reaching the top floor, he continued past the armory and stopped in front of a substantial door with two huge, iron bolts. Cut into the timber was a peephole. Casting a bewildered glance at Aimon, she leaned forward and peered through the slot. Lit oil lamps threw light and shadows across the room, revealing a table, a chair, a cot with a few blankets and no windows. Ice settled in her veins, and she took a step away from Aimon.

“Remember I told you I got caught sneaking out of the keep?” he asked, leaning against the door. “This is where Gaharet and Ulrik locked me away for a few days. They thought it would convince me to stay within the keep as ordered.” He gave her a wry smile. “It did not. I escaped a further two times. I needed a little more convincing.” He chuckled. “Anne threatened to lock me in here for the entire length of my training.”

Kathryn sucked in a breath. “The entire length of your—” She glared at him. “Are you threatening to lockmein there?”

“Are you going to give me a reason to?”

Kathryn eyed the door and its sturdy bolts, the thought of being confined filling her with dread. She shook her head. No, she would not try to leave, not if this would be her punishment.

“Then, no. I wanted to show you I understand how frustrating it is to be locked away from the forest. Even after I had escaped twice, Gaharet balked at locking me in here for too long. He understood my need to roam, to feel the earth beneath my paws, but Anne would not relent. Her resolve persuaded me to stay put. The consequences of escaping again were too high.”

He slid the bolts across, unlocking the door, and swung it open. “We also use this room for training.” He stood aside so she could enter.

She hesitated. “After you.”

Aimon chuckled at her distrust, but he entered the room first. Cautiously, taking small, reluctant steps, Kathryn followed him. He closed the door behind them with a resounding thud. She jumped, startled.

“There are bolts on the inside, too,” said Aimon, sliding them across locking them in.

Kathryn’s heart faltered.

“In this room, I had my first transformation.” His gaze shifted to the cot, a tense stillness settling about him. “I also went through the turning here.”

Kathryn followed his gaze. Her memories of her turning were the thing of nightmares—a blur of pain and terror. She had screamed a lot.Thatshe could remember. Moving to the cot, she fingered the leather restraints attached to the frame. They were broken. They had tried to strap him down and failed.

“Not a pleasant time.” His blue eyes were shuttered, and his face was a blank mask.

Aimon really did understand. That thought saddened her, but it also comforted her.

“Why are there bolts on the inside of the door?” she asked, turning the conversation away from the pain of their past to her more present concerns.

“Our first few transformations are often a little uncontrolled, so we lock ourselves in here. It is a little difficult to slide the bolts back with paws. That is why training starts here and not in the forest. For you too, Kathryn. Your first few changes will happen in this room. It is safer that way. For you, for me, for everybody.”

Kathryn stared at the heavy bolts, at the solidness of the door, and the peephole that was their only connection with the outside world. As jittery as it made her feel to be locked in, it made perfect sense. Nobody else could get hurt if she could not restrain her wolf.

“Have you ever called forth your wolf, Kathryn? Deliberately? Asking for the change and embracing it?”

She clutched her dress with sweaty palms and gave him a sharp shake of her head.

“Today you will, and we will see if you can master your darker half, your wolf. You have repressed it for years, so I know you can hold it back, but the first few times you release it, you may not have command over it.”

Her mouth was suddenly as parched as any desert. Her greatest fear—losing control. Conversely, Aimon seemed unconcerned, despite not wearing the added protection of his armor.

“What if…?” She licked her lips. “What if I cannot rein it in? What if I cannot change back? What if I get it all wrong and I get stuck as a wolf forever?”

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “You can do this, Kathryn. I will be here with you, talking you through it. As I did the night we met. We will do this together.”

“Has anyone ever struggled to shift back?” persisted Kathryn.

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