Page 38 of Wolf's Prize

“Very good. What else? What can you smell?”

“Smoke. Cooking fires. A stew. And over there”—she pointed toward the stables—“horses, hay, manure and leather.”

“See if you can reach a little further?”

She tilted her chin, inhaling a deep breath in through her nose. “Some type of grain. Lots of it. The storerooms? And the scratching of mice. No. Wait.” She screwed up her face and raised her hand to cover her mouth. “I think a cat ate the mouse. It crunched.”

He shrugged. “It will please Gascon the cat is keeping the stores free of vermin. Let us move on.”

He guided her forward until they came to the gatehouse. He held a finger to his lips, silencing the guard before he could greet them.

She clutched at his arm. “There is another man here.”

His body reacted as though she had touched a different part of his body,nothis arm. “There is. What can you tell me about him?”

“He smells of soap and…and steel. He is wearing armor.”

“Emotions give off a scent, too. This can help you decide if someone, or something, means you harm. Can you sense a threat? Is he friend or foe?”

“Friend? Is it the gate guard?” She turned to him, seeking reassurance, her face tilted in his direction, her lips parted. She had no clue how vulnerable, how inviting she looked, with the blindfold on.

“Friend,” he confirmed. “No hint of anger or aggression.”

He nodded to the guard, and they passed through the gate. The closer to the forest he took her, the faster she walked. By the time they reached the tree line, she was tugging on his arm, urging him on. Once beneath the canopy of trees, the tension slipped from her slight frame. Her head tilted up to the leafy canopy, her copper locks cascading down her back, and the dappled sunlight played across her freckled nose. Aimon’s breathing faltered. He would challenge any man, any werewolf, to not be affected by Kathryn.

Aimon released her arm, letting the coolness of the forest wash over him. He never felt so alive than when he could immerse himself in its depths. It called to him, it calmed him and it energized him. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to shed his clothes, shift and run through its shaded depths until exhausted. Until his mind cleared, and he could think of Kathryn without imagining her writhing beneath him, crying out his name. He had a task far more important than his own needs.

“Are we going for a run now?”

Kathryn leaned toward him, eager, and he loathed disappointing her. She reached up to remove the blindfold, and he caught her hand.

“Leave the blindfold on. We are not going for a run today.”

Her shoulders slumped.

“You are not ready. Today has been challenging enough. I will not push you so hard you collapse from fatigue.”

“But I am not tired.”

“You do not feel it now, but you will soon. Shifting takes energy. Your body has yet to accustom itself to the extra demands you are placing on it. As with mastering your wolf, so, too, will this take time and training. One more lesson and we will conclude for the day. Then you will rest.”

She placed her hands on her hips and scowled at him. “I do not need to rest.”

“Come, Kathryn. Push your senses out into the forest and tell me what you can hear, what you can smell?”

She held her pose for a moment, then dropped her hands to her side with a sigh. “Pine needles, wildflowers, chirping crickets. The wind in the treetops and the bees buzzing.” She rattled them off at him in a flat voice.

“Is that all? Perhaps you are more in need of a rest than I thought.”

Her glare bored through the blindfold. “I amnottired.”

He grinned. Her disposition was as fiery as her hair. She turned her ire on the forest, jutting out her chin. She sniffed—large, loud sniffs.

“Eww.” She screwed up her face and covered her nose. “That smells awful. I think something has died.” She rounded on him. “You did that on purpose. Youknewthat was out there. What is it?”

“A rabbit. Not too fresh. I would guess it died a few days ago. Not everything we smell will be pleasant, but we still need to know it is there.”

“Langeais Keep smells awful. I think I would rather not know what makes it smell so bad.”

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