Page 74 of Wolf's Redemption

He huffed and cast a look at her over his shoulder that oozed derision, any hint of his smile gone. “So gullible. Your trust is sadly misplaced. You, my dear, are going nowhere.”

Bek hid her smile as the archbishop retreated up the stairs. She might not be going anywhere, but he certainly was. Chances were, he wouldn’t like his destination.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Ulrik paced the clearing, unable to sit still any longer. The sun had reached its zenith, though it penetrated little through the heavy tree canopy. Nearby, the horses grazed, resting from their hard ride from the d’Louncrais Keep. Gaharet and Aimon sat on a fallen tree, silently regarding him, a small fire and the remains of a roasted hare carcass at their feet.

The coolness of the surrounding forest and the company of his friends could not calm him. “We are but half a league from Langeais Keep. Why must we wait here? Why must we wait at all?”

A sense of urgency tugged at him. His Rebekah needed him.

“It is the middle of the day, Ulrik.” Gaharet tossed a leg bone in the fire. “It is too risky. We must wait for nightfall.”

Ulrik ground his teeth. “You think I am going to wait here, while Lothair has Rebekah in his horrid underground chamber, doing who knows what to her? That I would leave her alone to fend for herself for a full day?” He glared at Gaharet. “Would you wait? If it was Erin instead of Rebekah confined to that godforsaken hole?” He shook his head. “No. I will not wait.”

He strode toward his horse.

“Ulrik. Stop.”

The alpha command rolled over him, and he paused, his hands on his saddle.

“Think, Ulrik.” Gaharet rose and blocked his horse, gathering the reins. “Lothair does not want Rebekah. He wants you.Rebekah is but the lure. Do not fear. He will do naught to her, save for keeping her prisoner. We have time.”

“Argh.” Ulrik raked his hand through his hair and turned away from his horse. He hung his head and stared at his boots. “You are right.” Gaharet was always right. He was a far wiser alpha than Ulrik would ever have been. “It is just…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The thought of her, alone, in the dark and at the mercy of Lothair, the guards…”

Gaharet sighed. “I know, but rushing in is not the answer. We need—”

Pounding hooves of an approaching horse stilled all conversation and Ulrik reached for his sword. He sniffed the air. Over the smoke of the fire and the scent of roasted hare, he caught something familiar.

“One of your horses, Gaharet?”

“Yes. And Gascon. As ever, he is resourceful. It must be of some importance for him to track us down.”

Horse and rider appeared through the trees, and Gascon reined in and dismounted. “Mon Seigneur Gaharet, Mon Seigneur Ulrik, Monsieur Aimon.” He thrust a sealed parchment at Aimon. “This arrived for you this morning, Monsieur. I thought it best to bring it to you immediately.”

Ulrik’s gut clenched as he caught sight of the wax seal. “It is from Lothair.”

Aimon took the parchment. “Most likely, it is to inform me he has Rebekah. He knows I have contact with Gaharet.” Aimon broke the seal. “Merde.”

Ulrik’s heart dropped. “What is it? What does it say?”

Aimon handed the parchment to Gaharet. “He is commanding all of us—Lance, Godfrey, the twins and me—to present ourselves in the hall. Today.” Aimon sighed. “We are to kneel before him again. Repeat our vows. It is something he called for after your capture, Ulrik.”

Ulrik’s shoulders sagged. The missive did not bring news of Rebekah. “This does not affect our plans. You go, Aimon. Do Lothair’s bidding. Tonight, we will enter the keep and rescue Rebekah.”

Aimon would not meet his gaze. Gaharet handed the parchment to him, and Ulrik read the message, his attention catching on the last line.

“I have Ulrik’s woman. Guilty of aiding his escape, I will pass sentence on her today.”

“Merde.” Ulrik balled up the message and threw it into the fire. The parchment darkened, flames curling at its edges, but the vellum didn’t catch. “He is going to sentence her to death. He is going to kill her.”

“We will not let that happen, Ulrik,” said Gaharet. “Iwill not let that happen. We will—”

“Gaharet!” Aimon pointed to Gaharet’s chest, his eyes wide. “The bloodstone. It glows.”

Ulrik stared at Gaharet’s chest.Aimon spoke true. The binding stone glowed.

Could it be…“Rebekah?”

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