Page 45 of Wolf's Redemption

And what of Rebekah? Warm, dry and her hunger satiated, her eyelids drooped and her body sagged against the table. How would she react to the news she must remain here? Indefinitely. Erin had not reacted well at all. Best to leave the telling for when Rebekah would have the comfort of another who would understand her predicament.

Their meal finished, Constance cleared the table and stoked up the fire. “Rest now, Seigneur Ulrik. You have an arduous few days ahead of you. You will need to fortify your heart and mindto make the sacrifices required before you reach your journey’s end.”

She bid them goodnight and disappeared behind a heavy sack cloth to a bedding nook, leaving them alone. Ulrik stared after her. The woman spoke in riddles. Why did he get the feeling she spoke of more than their proposed walk ahead of them?

“What did she say?” Rebekah asked. “Anything that can help us?”

Ulrik shrugged. “Only to take care in the forest. She has seen many a keep guard of late.” Rebekah narrowed her eyes at him. Had she caught him in his lie? “Come. Let us retire for the night.”

He eyed the cot. It was narrow, but they both would fit if they pressed their bodies together. Not an unpleasant situation. It could only aid in furtherance of his goal to have her.

She objected when he picked her up, but when he placed her on the cot and wrapped her in a blanket, her protests died on her lips. Her eyelids fluttered, and she muttered a weary sigh, pulling the blanket tight around her shoulders. Instead of joining her, he gathered up his damp surcoat, laid it on the floor and lowered himself onto it. It would not be the most uncomfortable night he had spent in his life.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled, yawning.

He met her sleepy, puzzled stare. “Go to sleep, Rebekah. We have a long walk ahead of us.”

“But…you’ll be cold on the floor.”

He smiled away her concern. “I will be fine.”

She pouted. “But I’ll be cold.”

She pushed herself to the far side of the cot and raised the blanket. Was she inviting him in?

“Hurry up,” she grumbled. “Before I change my mind.”

Ulrik was on his feet in an instant, sliding beneath the blanket.

She snuggled into his side. “That’s better.”

Ulrik breathed in her scent and reveled in her soft body tucked in tight against him. Yes. Yes, it was. He stared up at the thatched ceiling, listening to the wind in the trees and the crackle of the fire, his beast within strangely content. When was the last time he had lain in bed with a woman? Just lay there, cuddling and sleeping. Not sex. He tried to recall. There must have been a time. His life had changed when his family had died, when Lothair had punished them for his crimes, but surely before then. Yet no such memory came to mind.

Rebekah’s head nuzzled against his shoulder, the green streaks in her dark hair bringing a smile to his lips. His family would have liked her. His sisters especially. They would have delighted in the way she challenged him. How he could not intimidate her. How she fought his every command. They would have seen her as an ally. Another woman to rally to their aid, and to form a united front against him.

They had already had his mother on their side, leaving him and his father outnumbered. Debates in their home had been enthusiastic. His sisters were never ones to shy away from voicing their opinion or disputing his. They would have welcomed Rebekah, another strong female voice, with open arms.

His mood slipped as the familiar ache resurfaced. They would never have the chance to meet her, thanks to him. Yet, right now, the guilt and the shame, though present, did not clench in his entrails, or sour his gut as it was wont to do. The urge to grab for a wineskin and drown out his own bitter recriminations was a mere whisper in his mind. Perhaps he was tired. Perhaps his actions in helping to save Erin, and now Rebekah, were going some way to ease his conscience.

He closed his eyes, listening to Rebekah’s soft breathing, the steady beat of her heart and the light fall of rain as the storm eased. They were safe for the night. He should sleep. They hadseveral days’ walk ahead of them, and though it would not tax him as much as it would Rebekah, his body was showing signs of fatigue. Too long in Lothair’s wretched underground chamber, weakened by wolfsbane, silver and meager rations, and nights of sleeping light, conscious of pursuit from both Lothair and Lance, had left him with little reserves. But his mind refused to rest.

Soon, he would reunite with his alpha. Despite Constance’s assurances, after all that had come between them, he could not be assured of a welcome from Gaharet. Would Gaharet trust him to be so close to his new mate? After so much time, Ulrik could not imagine a reconciliation possible. Not after what he had done. Where would that leave Rebekah?

Rebekah shifted about on the cot beside him. She, too, was restless and unable to sleep. He loosened his grip on her a little and she settled against him. He was not about to let his little fire breather go. Not yet. Not when he had yet to know the pleasure of being between her silken thighs. His conscience may have eased a little, his need to drown out his sorrows receding, but if the state of his cock was any indication, one thing remained the same.

Her hand snaked across his stomach, perilously close to his hardened shaft. He could not prevent the rumble in his chest. His balls ached, the anticipation of being buried in her wet heat pounding through him. Soon. He would know this woman in the most intimate way possible and hear her scream his name on her release. He would sample her fire, and nothing Gaharet could say or do would stop him.

Bek shifted about on the cot. She was warm and snuggled up to Ulrik, and still sleep eluded her. The man brought the heat, and not the ‘I’m cold, you’ll keep me warm’ type of heat. But as she enjoyed the feel of his hard body next to hers, there was more than sex on her mind.

It was disconcerting being on the outside of a conversation, not understanding what was being said. With the glances they’d thrown her way, chances were Constance and Ulrik had been talking about her. Or something that concerned her.

Then, as she’d teetered on the verge of trusting him, seriously considering having sex with him, he’d lied to her. Told her some guff about Constance warning them about keep guards in the forest. She clacked her tongue ring against her teeth. Did he think she was stupid? That she’d missed the tenseness in his body and the worry in his eyes. Or his shock, hastily masked, at something Constance had said.

She might not be fluent in French, but she’d understood afewwords. He’d mumbled something about an alpha. That couldn’t be right. Or it meant something else in French. Then the wordsloup blanc.White…wolf? The words, cobbled together, made no sense to her outside of the shifter romance she’d been reading last week. Had she misheard? Mistranslated? Perhaps she had shifter on the brain. Whatever the case, if she was going to be stuck here for an indefinite period, then she was going to have to brush up on her French.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ulrik trudged through the forest, Rebekah a few strides behind him. The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of trees, a hint of the soon-to-come night on the air. Constance had bound Rebekah’s feet with strips of fabric and given her salve for her blisters and, with each day, her pace increased. Four days they had walked, and they were almost there. Four days and not a scent, nor sound of pursuit. That he would head for the d’Louncrais estate, that Gaharet had chosen to hide there, would never have occurred to them.

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