Page 9 of Wolf's Prize

Kathryn stared at her father.He would defy the comte? Circumvent his command in order to affect the outcome?Her father had never been one to challenge authority. He smiled at her and brushed his hand across her cheek.

“Now, come, child. Tell me which of Gaharet’s vassals has caught your fancy.”

* * * *

The business of running his county concluded and the hall now empty, Lothair sat, chin resting in his hand, ruminating on his decision regarding the Beauchenes. Regret twinged in his gut at giving away all the d’Louncrais’ had amassed. Especially knowing his vassal still lived. But he saw no other way. Gaharet’s wealth was reason enough for any of his vassals to betray him, but would making it readily available to them reveal Renaud’s informant?

One thing he knew for certain—it was not Aimon. Young and unpracticed in court politics, his unguarded expression had given him away. Aimon knew Gaharet lived, and yet he had not informed his fellow werewolves.Interesting.How he would use this information Lothair did not yet know but use it he would if it served his purpose.

And what of Gaharet’s betrothed? Gaharet had eschewed any manner of eligible matches in favor of a woman with no background at all. Who was she that Lance now sought to find her? And that girl of Farren’s… Feisty, and pretty, too. Marrying her to gain the d’Louncrais wealth would be no hardship for any man. He stood and adjusted his sword. He had set things in motion. Now all he need do was wait. Which of Gaharet’s vassals would try to claim the prize?

Chapter Four

“We will have a month at most, no more,” said Lance, as the five of them sat astride their horses at the crossroads beyond Langeais village. Horses trained to take their kind. “Lothair will want us re-pledging our allegiance as soon as he can. He will usher in fresh, unprepared squires if need be. It will be nice and public to remind us of our place.”

Edmond’s low rumble penetrated Aimon’s thoughts, and he looked up at the disgruntled faces of his pack.

“I do not like it any more than any of you do, but we will do it. We will kneel before him like green young men, humble in his presence, if that is what it takes to appease him,” said Lance.

With their mood tense, and anger a living presence amongst them, they had positioned themselves close enough to hear each other talk, yet a distance existed between them not present before. The bond he had once thought unbreakable, of shared knowledge and understanding, had fractured.

Aimon’s attention drifted from the grumbles of complaint back to Kathryn Beauchene, and the moment she had brushed past him. He could notstopthinking about it, about her—her freckled nose, her pretty hazel eyes, her smile, her musky werewolf scent that teased his nostrils. How had her presence gone undetected by werewolves more experienced than he? Werewolves born, not made. Was he wrong? Could the wolfsbane still be affecting his nose?

He knew of Kathryn. His mother had once considered her a suitable match for him a few years back. Before he had become a werewolf. Before he had sworn allegiance to Gaharet. When his mother had sought advancement for the family through his marriage. Kathryn had caught his mother’s eye not because of any wealth, titles or standing of the Beauchenes’. Her suitability stemmed from her connection to the d’Louncrais. Save for that, his mother disapproved of Kathryn, thought her outspoken and a little wild. A woman with no talent for the approved activities for ladies of her station.

Gossip did not speak kindly of Kathryn, and his mother reveled in gossip, breathed it in like oxygen and dispensed it with equal veracity. He had defended Kathryn and chided his mother on believing rumors most likely unfounded. It had only encouraged a lengthy lecture on how, should he secure Kathryn’s hand in marriage, he would need to bring a firm hand to the girl and make her conform. No more unchaperoned forays into the forest, or swimming in the mill pond in her chemise. If not for his mother’s distaste, he may not have remembered Kathryn at all.

“It is possible Lothair will drag Ulrik out in chains and parade him around,” said Edmond. “Force him to kneel beside us. This statement of his is not only for our benefit.”

The mention of Ulrik snapped Aimon’s focus back to the conversation. He would be of no use to Gaharet if he did not pay attention.

“If he is still alive,” muttered Aubert, shaking his head.

“Better he dies than give Lothair what he wants,” said Godfrey.

“Better he dies, anyway. He betrayed us. He must have told Renaud of our weakness to wolfsbane. It is a fair bet he also told him about our amulets.” Edmond’s voice was little more than a growl. “And he killed Gaharet.”

Edmond’s horse pranced, reacting to the tension and anger resonating from its rider. The other horses stirred. Aimon held his reins firm and edged his own horse a foot or two further away. Emotions, sharp-edged, simmered in the air.

“We are all angry about what has taken place, but it is better we free him from Lothair’s keep. We are too few.” Lance’s serious gray eyes took them in. “We need every single one of us if we are going to survive.”

Edmond shook his head. “He betrayed us. We do not need him and I, for one, do not want him with us.”

“I do not like it either, but he is still our alpha.” Lance’s jaw set firm and his eyes dared them to disagree. “No matter our feelings, he has won that right. Unless one of you wishes to visit Ulrik’s cell and challenge him, he will remain so. It is our way, as it has been for centuries. It is not for us to question. Agreed?”

Aimon conceded with a brief nod. Lance’s seniority in the pack was not something easily ignored. Godfrey also nodded.

“Agreed?” Lance fixed his stare on the twins, their resentment clear on their faces. After a pause fraught with tension, they, too, nodded in assent.

“You can challenge him once we have him out of Lothair’s clutches, but for now he is our alpha.” Lance paused, taking in a deep breath. “We also must stop Lothair’s plan for an enhanced army. I do not believe any of us want to see an army of our kind under Lothair’s command.”

No, we do not.

“So, we rescue Ulrik,” said Aimon. “It would be a blow to Lothair’s plan if Ulrik were to escape. I imagine Renaud would not be too happy either.”

Godfrey gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I have no objection to foiling Lothair’s plan. If we can go one step further and lay the blame for his escape on Renaud, it would be to our advantage. That Lothair excluded Renaud from our meeting suggests the alliance between them is already crumbling. Perhaps we can sever it completely.”

“Then once Ulrik is free, we kill him ourselves,” growled Edmond. “Our way.”

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