Page 77 of Wolf's Redemption

Her attention lit on the third man.Twins?Just as big and wild, though not quite so fierce, he wore the same colored coat, with the same crest. Neither had a sword either.

Wait. Twins.Hadn’t Erin said two of Gaharet’s men were twins?

‘Gaharet, Ulrik, Aimon, who you’ve met. Twins Edmond and Aubert. Godfrey and, the oldest, Lance.’ That’s what Erin had said. Her gaze settled on the one familiar man in the blue coat with the white dove crest. Aimon. The twins. Then the other guy, the one with the touch of gray at his temples. Lance, the oldest? These had to be Gaharet’s men. Had they come for her?

“Bring her to me,” commanded the count, beckoning her forward.

Unlike the other men, the count was wearing a sword. As were the guards who surrounded him. And her. They dragged her forward, depositing her next to the count. He grasped her arm and spoke to the crowd, his deep voice ringing out. A proclamation? Some sort of decree?

Silence fell. A hundred eager eyes stared at her, and a ripple of excitement ran through their ranks. Aimon blanched. The scowly twin’s expression darkened. The count stared up at herwith a sardonic tilt to his lips. Bek trembled. What the hell had he said? Lord Almighty, was she to be the guest of honor at a public hanging?

Fuck. Why the hell didn’t I pay more attention in French?

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ulrik eyed the bodies of the four guards, their game of dice interrupted and scattered across the bloodied floor. He and Gaharet had killed two more guards at the postern gate. A regretful circumstance, but one Ulrik would commit to again to free Rebekah.

“I have found the keys.” Gascon tossed them to Ulrik.

Ignoring the burning of the silver key, he inserted it, unlocked the grate and swung it open. He paused at the top of the stairs. The dank, stale smell wafted up from the hole, and he shuddered. Memories skittered along his skin. The emptiness of his mind, his wolf bound and silent, the silver burning his skin… A familiar scent broke through his thoughts.Rebekah.

Ulrik plunged down the stairs. He exploded into the dark space and skidded to a halt. He spun around, searching for her, the darkness no barrier to his enhanced vision, eager to get to her and wrap her in his arms.

Empty.

His heart all but stopped beating. The chamber was empty. Her scent lingered, but Rebekah was gone. But the scent was fresh. They had missed her by moments, not hours.

He beat a hasty retreat up the stairs. “She is gone. Lothair must have her in the hall.” He roared at the ceiling and kicked a chair across the room. It slammed into the wall and fell to the floor, broken. “We came too late.”

“Maybe not.” Gaharet’s voice of reason cut through his despair. “Aimon will be there. He will allow nothing to happen to her.”

Ulrik threw out his arms. “What can he do? He is no match for Lothair. He will not risk his life for Rebekah. Not when his mate sits unprotected back at your keep. And I would not ask it of him.” He paced the room, heedless of the carnage on the floor. “I cannot leave Rebekah to her fate.” He thumped his chest with his fist. “She is there because of me.”

He raked his hands through his hair. She could not lose her life because of him. Not like his parents.

Ulrik closed his eyes and an eerie calm settled over him. His family had suffered fate’s punishment for his crimes, but he could not, would not allow another to take his place again. Not while he still had breath in his body. Not when he could prevent it. Perhaps it should have come to this years ago. Maybe this was always the end destined for him. He opened his eyes, taking in the dead guards, the open grate, his alpha. He knew what he must do. “I must go to her.”

“Ulrik—”

“We cannot defeat all Lothair’s guards, Gaharet. It is suicide to attempt it. I must give Lothair what he wants. Me.” He stood before his alpha, his mind decided. “Take care of Rebekah for me. Find her a way home, if that is what she truly wishes. Please.”

Gaharet snarled. “We will find another way, Ulrik. It should not come to this.”

“It will and it must.” He stared his alpha down. “You know I am right, Gaharet. You know this is the only way. It is time for me to take responsibility. No one else should risk their life or die because of me.”

Renaud moaned and thrashed about on the floor.

“Gascon will help you get Renaud into the underground chamber. Then you must leave. If Renaud does not die because of the turning, I will ensure he does. And I vow to you, I will not turn Lothair, nor anyone else at his bidding.” He clasped Gaharet’s shoulder. “Farewell, my friend. I have missed our friendship in these long years past. I am glad we reconciled before we came to this.”

He straightened his shoulders, firmed his resolve and headed for the door.

“Ulrik…”

He turned to Gaharet, his alpha, his friend. “Do not stop me. Imustdo this.”

Gaharet clasped his hand over his heart and bowed his head. With a nod, Ulrik left the room. He hurried down the corridors, racing up the flights of stairs until he stood at the double doors of the hall. The guards eyed him warily. He raised his sword, expecting the guards to draw theirs, to deny him entry, but they opened the doors for him and let him through.

Ulrik stood inside the hall as the doors closed behind him. Nobles, ladies-in-waiting, guards and chevaliers. They filled the hall, their backs to him, focused on the dais at the other end.

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