Page 6 of The Shifter's Queen

With a sigh, he turned his attention to Polar, who was watching him expectantly, ready to receive his instructions. His eyes held a fierce, unyielding determination, as if he had already conquered whatever obstacle lay before him. As always, Polar was his beacon of calm during turbulent times. He might have wished for a different path in life, but knowing these men were his loyal companions brought a bittersweet solace to his burdened heart.

“I want the castle re-enforced and preparations made should we need to fortify.”

Polar gave him a curt nod. “We should make preparations so that if we are held under siege, that we have a way to evacuate everyone. I’d like to send Alba with Oliver, if you don’t mind. He can guide us to Oliver once a place is found.”

Or’Ang nodded in agreement. “Oliver, pick your men carefully. You’ll need builders, soldiers, hunters.”

“I won’t let you or our people down,” Oliver vowed.

“Make it happen,” he ordered, turning back to the window.

He longed to be swept away by the carefree energy of the day, but a suffocating desperation kept him tethered to the desolate landscape of his thoughts. The whispers of malice in the other shifters' minds echoed through his thoughts, a chilling reminder of the danger lurking beneath their calm facades. Their laughter had been laced with a cruel, hollow ring, anticipating the pain they would so willingly inflict upon others. Driven by a primal hunger, they would gleefully sacrifice everything to quench their blood thirst, even if it meant tearing their world apart.

Though the castle's imposing walls and fortified gates promised safety, a gnawing fear lingered, along with the knowledge that even the strongest defenses could crumble.

Chapter 3

“Thank you!” Elizabeth called.

“Come again soon, my lady,” Giselle responded.

Elizabeth stepped out onto the cobblestone street and lifted her face to the breeze. Her hand patted the leather satchel she wore. Three books lay safely tucked inside. She had exchanged the book she had picked up several months ago for one of them. Giselle had been most pleased to add a new book to her vast collection.

Slipping her hand into the front pocket of her dress, she fingered the small leather pouch that contained the few coins she had left. It had taken her nearly a year to accrue what she had and less than a day to spend nearly all of it.

“But, it was worth it,” she murmured consolingly.

The day was still young and she had plenty of time before dark to continue her explorations. She glanced back and forth. In reality, all she wanted to do was find a quiet spot where she could listen to the music and read. Turning to the left, she continued moving up the winding road.

She was completely lost forty minutes later. Turning in a circle, she tried to remember the route she had taken. Her mistake had been stepping into a baker’s shop to purchase a bountiful meal of fresh bread, cheese, and more fruit. The meal had cost her the last of her coins, but she didn’t care.

There had been two doors into the shop. In her delight at her find, she had mistakenly exited the back door that led to the narrow, winding street she now found herself on. The chirping of birds and the cheerful bubbling of water sparked her curiosity. Following the sounds, she crossed to a wrought-iron gate covered in thick vine.

The gate opened under her hand, and she entered, mindful to close it behind her. Delight filled her when she found herself in a grand garden. Beautiful stepping stones, embedded in a rich layer of topsoil and surrounded by lush grass beckoned her to follow it deeper into the walled oasis.

Never in her life had she seen anything so beautiful. Delicate roses that she had only seen in the illustrations of books, grew up tall trellises. Her lips parted on a breath of awe as she touched one of the silken red petals.

“Careful, they have thorns,” a deep voice warned.

Elizabeth released a startled gasp and twirled to face the man who stood holding a rake. Her heart thundered in her chest as they stared at each other in silence. She wasn’t sure if her wayward pulse was because of the fright he had given her or if it was because of her immediate awareness of how tall and handsome he was.

“I’ve never seen a rose before. They are beautiful. The entire garden is breathtaking. Did you do all of this?” she asked, waving her hand.

“My-Queen Ruby started the garden centuries ago. It… has been entrusted to me-my family to tend it. The rose you touched was planted centuries ago,” he said.

She turned back to the rose and lifted her hand to touch it again, drawn by a need to feel the delicate petal once more. A hand reached around her and pulled the stem closer to her. Her eyes flickered to the brilliant brown eyes of the man before she studied the rose’s intricate layers.

“Breathe deeply,” he instructed.

Bending forward until her nose was almost touching the flower, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply as he instructed. The fragrance of the rose filled her senses. The gentle scent mesmerizing her that anything so beautiful to look at could also be as wonderful to smell. Without thinking, she lifted her hand.

“Careful!”

His word of caution came a split second too late. She hissed when a sharp prick of pain caused her to open her eyes and jerk back. She didn’t realize how close they were standing until she bumped into him. The rake in his hand clattered to the ground and he wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her.

She turned in his arms when he reached down and cupped her hand. A rosy blush rose to her cheeks when he lifted her injured finger to his lips. Her lips parted when he swiped his tongue over the dot of blood on the pad of her finger.

“You’re right. They do have thorns,” she said.

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