Page 13 of Wolf's Redemption

Ulrik pulled the woman against him, snaking his arm around her waist and giving the boys a smirk and a wink. “And somewhere a little private.”

It would not be the first time his reputation with the ladies would come in handy.

Ulrik pressed his fingers against her side in warning. She may not understand Franceis, but his meaning was clear, and it was reason enough for her to want to run.

He leaned down, and kissed her cheek, like a lover. “Play along,” he whispered in her ear. “I do not want to have to kill these boys.”

She shivered, but she leaned into him and placed her hand on his naked chest. At her touch, Ulrik almost forgot his purpose. A snigger from the boys snapped him out of his lust-filled daze.

“Take care in the forest, Seigneur Ulrik,” said one lad. “There have been wolves prowling about of late.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

It was a timely reminder. The keep guards were not the only threat. Wolves could mean actual wolves. They would be of little hindrance to him. But if members of his pack were roaming the forests, he would do well to be cautious. With a traitor in their midst, he could not risk trusting any of them.

With a cheeky grin at the boys and a firm grip on the woman, he cleared the entrance, not stopping until he had them well concealed within the trees. He looked back at the keep. No one had raised the alarm. No one had followed them, but now he could see what had the guards on the ramparts so transfixed.

The full moon hung above Langeais Keep, and it glowed a deep, dark red.

Chapter Six

Bek’s breathing slowed, but her heart still raced, and heat still pooled in areas she would much rather ignore. The moment he’d pulled her into his embrace… She shivered. If not for the thick leather of his coat, he’d have felt her hardened nipples against his bare chest. And oh, what a chest it was. And on full display, too, between the remnants of his torn shirt.

Following on the heels of his heartfelt apology, her traitorous body had melted at his touch and her brain had gone on the fritz. Her hands had itched to touch him, and she’d quivered with an almost uncontrollable desire to wrap her legs around those lean hips of his and rub herself all over him.

So what if he’d apologized? He’d killed that guard. There was no mistaking she was in the presence of an apex predator. And if the way he touched her was anything to go by, she was his next prey. Then he’d growled… And she’d been all but his for the taking.

What the hell is it with me and dangerous men?

She pulled out of his grip and eyed the darkened forest, unease trickling up her spine. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe.”

She planted her hands on her hips, wincing at the tenderness of her knuckles. “Safe for who?”

His hands firm on her shoulders, he spun her around. “Tell me what you see?”

She blinked at the vision before her. Blinked again.

No way.

A stone tower. Ancient. Medieval. It loomed out of the darkness, a stronghold against invading armies sitting atop the hill. The blood-red moon hung low behind it, staining its walls and giving it a macabre hue. She shivered. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see a horde of bats flying free from the top. What had he called it? Lonjay Keep?

Tower, my ass. It’s a freakin’ castle.

Like Rochester, only all that remained of Rochester was a hollowed-out shell, a remnant of the past and a tick box on a history tour of England. From what she’d seen—from her upside-down hazy vision of rough stone walls and antique-looking furniture—thisLonjay Keepwas anything but a ruin.

She opened her hand, palm out, and stared at the coins she’d grabbed from the table. Silver and irregular. She’d seen similar ones as a kid on a school trip to the Museum of London. Slung over her shoulder was a worn leather wineskin. Not standard issue in the modern world either. Maybe medieval Thor wasn’t so delusional after all. Bek suddenly needed a long drink of the wineskin’s contents.

She pulled her arms out of his grip and turned to face him. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but you need to start talking.” She fisted her hands around the coins, widening her stance. “I’m not going a single step further until you explain”—she waved her hand behind her toward the keep—“that.”

He huffed, shaking his head. “We do not have time for this now.”

Bek held her ground. Maybe poking the beast wasn’t a wise idea, but now, clear of the keep, she could afford to be a little braver. A little bolder. She was not moving. Not until he gave her an explanation of how she’d wound up down Alice’s rabbit hole and in the middle some kind of medieval drama. Not until she could rationalize heading off into the woods with a complete stranger. One who, until recently, had been chained to a wall.

“Merde.” He tossed his arms up in the air, heaving out an exasperated sigh. “Fine.What can you remember from before you ended up here?”

Bek frowned.WhatdoI remember?

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