Page 44 of Wolf's Redemption

She gave him a smile, full of mystery and knowing. Had he come up wanting in her estimation? Unredeemable? He brushed the thought aside.It is no matter what a lone witch in the woods thinks of me.

“Sometimes,” she said, “not finding that which we seek is what we are truly seeking.”

Ulrik grunted. He could well imagine Gaharet not wishing to find the answers with Constance. But was she talking only of Gaharet? How much had his alpha told her?

“You know of the…”

Constance’s gaze dropped to his chest where, beneath the tunic, lay the binding stone. “The amulets? Yes. It is many years since any of my family has seen one. It was my family, generations ago, who created them and the binding stone.”

Ulrik dropped his chunk of bread into his bowl and stared at her. Her family had created… Did Gaharet know this?

“Hm. That shocks you. It surprised Seigneur Gaharet, too. We have long had a relationship with the d’Louncrais.”

Ulrik had no recollection of any of the d’Louncrais having a connection with this woman. Or her family. Or any witch.

Constance regarded him with sad eyes. “We lost the connection upon the death of Seigneur Jacques. I have reaffirmed it with his son.”

“Then you have the reverse spell? We can send Rebekah home?”

A strange twinge of…something…pinched at his heart. He rubbed his chest. Indigestion, perhaps?

She shook her head. “As I told Seigneur Gaharet, there is no reverse spell. We never thought there was a need for one. Nor can I create one. Not alone.”

The tightness in his chest eased.Strange.“Why not?”

“The amulets and the binding stone required a full coven of witches for their creation. Thirteen witches. For a reversal spell, there would need to be the same. I am the last surviving member of my family and of my coven. You would need to find twelve more witches and trust them with your existence.”

Ulrik rubbed his chin. Twelve more witches. Not an easy feat, when he knew of only her. Then they would need to entrust them with the knowledge of their kind. Gaharet would never sanction such a broad dissemination of their secret.

He glanced at Rebekah. Her dark eyes watched them, flicking between him and Constance. For all her self-deprecation about her lack of education and her inability to speak Franceis, she was smart. How much of their conversation could she understand? He refocused his attention on his food. No need to give her reason to suspect him of sharing something more than polite pleasantries with Constance.

They continued eating as the storm raged outside, Constance watching him with those strange eyes of hers.

Constance broke the silence. “You wear the binding amulet.”

Ulrik stiffened. “For now.” He pushed the remnants of his meal away, the rich, gamey taste of it turning to dust in his mouth. “I am not the alpha.”

“I know.”

There was no harshness or judgment in her words, but a mere statement of fact.

He dropped his head. “I am not worthy of it. Not after what I have done.”

“And yet, in your alpha’s eyes, you have redeemed yourself twofold.”

His head snapped up.I have?

“You saved his mate. And him. You were willing to sacrifice your life for them and for the pack. He will not forget.”

Ulrik swallowed, the enormity of her words crashing over him. He had not thrown himself at the mercy of Lothair and Renaud to regain Gaharet’s good opinion, but knowing he was no longer viewed with suspicion lifted a weight from his shoulders.

“The white wolf also knows of your worth.”

Aimon?

“Beware of the others. Some wish to kill you for what they think you have done. One wishes to kill you for what he knows you have not.”

The traitor. Who was it? Could it be the other wolf he had scented in the forest? No. He had been alone. It had been the perfect opportunity to ambush him, yet the wolf had not taken it. He was not the traitor.

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