Page 77 of Wolf's Prize

“A blood moon rising. What does it portend for this meeting?”

Gaharet turned to face the moon. “Perhaps something. Perhaps nothing.”

“Nothing good.”

“Do not be so sure, Aimon. A fourth full moon of the season rose on the night Erin arrived. She called it a blue moon. The reason for that escapes me, for the moon did not turn blue, but that night changed both of our lives. In a good way.”

“My mother would say blood will be spilled this night. Perhaps I go to meet my doom.”

Gaharet grunted. “Your mother has ever listened to idle gossip and superstition. Do not let her words trouble you. While you will meet our betrayer tonight, you will not be alone. Both Edmond and Aubert are loyal. And formidable. They will not let you fall.”

Aimon grasped the pommel of his sword, its familiarity comforting. “Take care of her for me.”

“Of course. Be safe, Aimon. We will be here when you return.”

Wishing he could have Gaharet’s confidence, Aimon made his way across the bailey, passing through the gate and stepping beyond the walls. Steeling himself for what was to come, he entered the forest.

He approached the clearing, trepidation coursing through his veins. Had he made the right choice in calling the men here? So close to the d’Louncrais Keep? So close to Kathryn? Here, in this small meadow, he had trained her. Taught her how to control her wolf outside the safety of the training room. Taken her on her first run as a wolf from here. And he had made love to her for the first time in this clearing. Her first time.

The scent of their coupling still permeated the clearing, heady and strong. With their keen sense of smell, the men could not fail to notice. Nor would they miss how close it lay to the d’Louncrais Keep. A place Lance had forbidden them to approach. But Aimon needed every advantage he could get, and the evidence of what had taken place in this clearing would go far in staking his claim over Kathryn. At least to the men.

He pushed out his senses, searching for a hint of anything out of place. Gaharet had warned him to be on the lookout for wolfsbane, and the strange absence of any scent and the deadening of sound that signaled its use. Night animals scurried about, birds settled in their nests for the night and the smell of damp earth and pine surrounded him. All was as it should be.

He entered the clearing, his wolf hovering close and primed for the arrival of the others. He did not have to wait long. Edmond and Aubert were the first to arrive, for which he was profoundly grateful. Dismounting, they tied their horses off and stepped from the cover of the trees, their noses twitching. They shared a look, then as one, turned to stare at him.

“Aimon?”

He met Edmond’s stare, sensing no hostility, only curiosity. Through the filtered moonlight that flickered beneath the forest canopy, Lance and Godfrey appeared. They, too, dismounted, leaving their horses in the trees to graze before entering the clearing.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “You have something you wish to tell us, Aimon?”

Godfrey snorted. “I think the smell of sex in this clearing says it all. You found Erin, and you have mated with her.”

“Use your nose, Godfrey,” said Edmond. “It is not Erin. We know her scent. This is someone else.”

“What other female werewolf could there possibly be?” demanded Godfrey, but he sniffed the air again.

Lance’s gray gaze bored into him. “Would you care to explain, Aimon?”

Aimon took in the men, gauging their mood, as they looked to him for explanations, the physical distance between them matched only by the remoteness of their emotions. His body tensed in readiness, as his gaze darted from one man to another.

“You are right, Edmond. It is not Erin.” With but a few words, they would know of Kathryn’s existence, and she would no longer be safe. “It is Kathryn Beauchene.”

They stared at him, their eyes wide and their mouths agape. Night insects chirped, an owl hooted, and an expectant stillness settled over the clearing.

Lance broke the silence. “Kathryn is one of us?”

Aimon gave them a slow nod, not daring to take his gaze any off them. “Yes. Kathrynisone of us.”

“Is she your mate?” asked Aubert.

Aimon hesitated. Kathryn was his mate, but he had never been more aware Kathryn had yet to acknowledge he was hers, had yet to tell him she loved him too. “I think she may be.”

“Yes!” Edmond punched the air with his fist. “It is about time our luck changed.”

Aubert moved to him and clapped him on the shoulders, a broad smile splitting his normally gruff visage. “Congratulations, Aimon.”

He released a pent-up breath. The twins’ delight was genuine. He looked over at Lance and Godfrey.

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