Page 38 of Wolf's Redemption

Aimon shook his head. “How is that possible?”

“It is possible because I left the alpha’s amulet with him.”

Aimon’s Adam’s apple jerked as he swallowed.

Lothair smirked. “Yes, Aimon. I know how the amulets work. I understand the purpose of the alpha’s amulet. What woman did you send to rescue Ulrik?”

Aimon again shook his head. “I did not…” He frowned. “Gaharet would not… Neither of us would risk our…” He swallowed again, his gaze darting about. “I do not know.”

He did not know, but he had a suspicion. Lothair was certain of it. Could she have a connection with Gaharet’s woman? None of his inquiries into this Erin Richardson had revealed a shred of information about her family or her past. Not even a whisper of a rumor. Not a single trace, as though she had appeared out of nowhere. He snatched up his goblet and threw back the remnants of his wine.

Lothair stood and wandered about the room, running his hand over tomes, picking up scrolls before setting them down again. “Where would Ulrik go? To Gaharet? Do I suspend my search for Ulrik and hunt, instead, for Gaharet?” He raisedan eyebrow at Aimon’s sharp intake of breath. “No?” His lips thinned, and he brushed past Aimon. “Thenfindme Ulrik.”

He exited the library, his guards falling in step, passing a flustered Farren with a hand on Kathryn’s arm, holding his daughter in check. Defiance glittered in the feisty she-wolf’s eyes. Silly girl, if she thought to challenge him.

“Capitaine.Search this keep. From the ramparts to the storerooms.” At the keep’s entrance, he paused. “Remember, Aimon. What I give, I can easily take away.” He stared pointedly at Kathryn, and Aimon drew her closer into the protection of his arms. “Never forget that.”

Chapter Eighteen

Bek let the wineskin slip from her shoulder and she slumped to the ground. From the moment she’d straightened her clothing beneath dawn’s early light, Ulrik had set a cracking pace. Any remaining buzz from her orgasm had faded faster than the blisters on her heels had appeared.

“I know, I know.” She waved him off with a weary hand as he opened his mouth to speak. “We’ve got to keep moving. They’re on horseback. Blah, blah, blah. I get it. Give me a moment to catch my breath and we can keep going.”

He eyed the sun overhead. “We will stop to eat, but then we must move on.” His restless gaze scanned the forest. “It is not only the keep guards we must concern ourselves about now.”

She squinted up at him. “You mean the villagers? That we stole from?”

He handed her a chunk of bread, taking a piece for himself. “The lord of the village may well come looking for us.”

“You think so?” She stretched her legs out in front of her. Her calf muscles hadn’t received a workout like this since PE in high school. “Seems like a lot of trouble over a villager’s stolen clothes and some bread and mead.”

“I am…known to him.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Is thereanyonein this century that isn’t hunting you?”

He grinned. “Perhaps one. Or maybe two.”

She chuckled. Who’d have thought? The man had a sense of humor.

“Well, someone didn’t like you very much, if those scars on your throat are any sign.” She’d been itching to ask about them all day.

A shadow slid over his expression, and he turned away.

“It’s why your voice is so raspy, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer, keeping his back to her, staring out at the forest.

“I thought you’d screamed yourself hoarse in that dungeon. Your skin was red raw from that shackle, so I didn’t see them at first. But the redness has gone already, and this morning…well…they’re pretty hard to miss.”

“My body reacted to the metal in the shackles. It irritates my skin and makes it blister. It is a family trait. Once I removed the shackles, my skin was quick to heal.”

Hmm. Like an allergy. Makes sense.She chewed on her piece of bread. Without butter or any condiment, it was dry, but as someone who’d once spent a week eating only packet noodles, she wasn’t going to complain. It wasn’t…

Wait a minute. An allergy? Was that what was happening every time he kissed her? He was reacting to the silver in her tongue ring? She swallowed the bread and pressed the silver bar against the roof of her mouth. It must be a pretty nasty allergy if his reaction to it was anything to go by.

“So, getting back to my original question. How did you get the scars?”

His shoulders stiffened.

---