Page 56 of Wolf's Prize

Kathryn stared at her hands, resting in her father’s larger ones. “How did you know you loved my mother?”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Is this about Aimon? I thought you did not want to marry him. If I recall, you told him you were ‘not for sale’.”

She released a nervous chuckle. “Yes, well, that was before I knew he was a werewolf.”

“And now?”

Kathryn looked away, fixing her gaze on the glowing coals in the brazier, worrying the inside of her cheek.

“What if…? What happens if I do, and…?” Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “How do I know if he feels the same?”

A smile crept across her father’s face. “Are you developing feelings for him, Kathryn?”

Heat suffused her neck and spread across her cheeks. She did not dare tell her father what she had done—what she and Aimon had done. In the forest, and again in the bath.

Her father leaned back in his chair, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “I am pleased. Aimon is a good man. It horrified him the decisions I made on your behalf. The way he held you when you shifted, protected you, kept you safe in a way I could never do—” He broke off. “He would make you a fine husband.”

“But how do I know if he wants to be my husband? Has he said anything to you?”

Her father shook his head. “No. Not yet.”

Kathryn’s hopes fell. “Does Aimon have no interest in me or the d’Louncrais estate? Apart from training me?”

He had said as much, when he had first returned. Being intimate with her had meant nothing? Of course he had wanted to bed her. She had all but thrown herself at him, begged him. What man would refuse something offered so freely?

Her father shook his head. “I did not say that.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Give it time, Kathryn. He is very protective of you—”

She snorted. “That is a werewolf thing.”

“He spends all his time with you—”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course he does. He is training me.”

“And I have seen the way he looks at you.”

Kathryn’s breath stalled in her lungs, and she stared at her father. “How does he look at me?”

Her father’s gaze softened. “Like he cannot take his eyes off you.”

Kathryn’s heart fluttered. “Are you sure?”

“I might be getting on in years, but I know what I see.” He smiled and patted her hands. “Trust your old father. Like you once used to. That young man wants to be more than your teacher. Now, I believe he is waiting for you in the stables.”

On impulse, she leaned over and gave her father a hug. “Thank you, Father.”

He held her tight before releasing her. “I want you to enjoy yourself today, hmm? If Aimon is a smart man, and I believe he is, he will not let something so precious slip from his grasp. Now go.”

With a spring in her step and a lightness in her heart, Kathryn left the library. As she approached the stables, Aimon appeared, leading his stallion. Her steps faltered, and her hand tugged at the neck of her dress. How did one act after what they had shared?

He turned to her, a smile on his lips and heat in his eyes. “Good morning, Kathryn.” He adjusted the girth on the saddle, patting the stallion’s nose away as it turned to nip him. “Are you ready to reclaim a part of the life you lost?”

Kathryn hurried over. “Yes. Yes, I am ready.”

Henri emerged from the stables with a chestnut mare in tow. “Good morning, Mademoiselle Kathryn. I have your horse ready for you.” Smiling, he held the reins out to her. “This is the mare I spoke of. Josephine.”

Kathryn’s stomach lurched, and her eagerness fled. She eyed the horse warily. The chestnut mare stood patient and calm, but Kathryn still hesitated. Since her attack, Kathryn’s experiences with horses had been equal parts terrifying and heartbreaking. The first of many hard realizations her life had forever changed.

“She is well trained, Kathryn,” said Aimon, coming to stand beside her. “She will not react to you.”

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