The Wolf Prince (7 page)

“Once you have it back in your possession,” the king put in, “I’ll send an armed escort to accompany you into the woods. You will be free to go.”

Now Ruben shot his father a sharp glance. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. As I’ve said, I’ll explain later.”

“What of the man who was following her?” Ruben crossed his arms. “Her accomplice. He came through this portal also.”

This appeared to surprise her. “What man? I came here alone.”

“You had a tail,” the king said, his voice gentle. “He was tall, with bright gold hair and those strange purple eyes of your kind. He carried himself as if he were nobility.”

She frowned. “Are you certain you weren’t mistaken?”

King Leo shook his head.

“Who was he?” Ruben asked. “And why was he taking care not to let you see him?”

“Judging from your description, I’d say that was one of my people.” Her firm tone indicated she wasn’t willing to discuss this any further. “I’ll see what I can find out when I return home.”

Ruben opened his mouth to question her, but the king shook his head in warning. Apparently this was enough of an answer to satisfy him.

King Leo gave Willow a warm smile. “When you get back home, say hello to your parents for me, will you?”

She smiled back, the same warm expression with which she’d favored Ruben the night before. This inexplicably made his wolf dig in his claws. While they waited for the maid to return, Willow and King Leo engaged in small talk, completely ignoring Ruben, which was fine with him.

For his part, he found being in the room with her a peculiar sort of torture. Watching her, he had to fight the urge to touch her, to stroke her creamy skin and pull her close enough to capture her scent.

He glanced at his watch and gritted his teeth. What was taking the maid so long? She could have been to his room and back twice now.

Patience, he told himself. Just because time seemed to be moving at an excruciatingly slow place for him, didn’t mean it actually was. His father and Willow certainly didn’t seem to notice.

The instant the thought crossed his mind, King Leo looked up and frowned. “Shouldn’t she be here by now?”

“I’ll go and look for her,” Ruben said. As he opened the door to do exactly that, someone screamed.

* * *

Chad hadn’t meant to kill the maid, though he bowed to the capricious whims of fate. Following Willow and watching while she entered the castle by stealth, he initially had decided to hang around outside. But as he’d settled in to wait, two of the guards had stepped away to have a smoke, leaving a side door unprotected and ajar. It was a simple matter for Chad to slip inside. If they’d been his guards, he would have not only fired them, but imprisoned them for their careless foolishness.

Once in, he found the castle lay out was remarkably similar to his own family palace in EastWard. Since Willow had entered upstairs on the back side, he figured she’d probably come in to someone’s bedroom. Now he simply had to learn if she’d traveled here for a dalliance of some sort or had another, more nefarious purpose.

A thrill shot through him at the thought. Who could have guessed that the dark little princess could be so fascinating? He’d never considered the possibility that she was more like him than anyone suspected.

Heart beating loudly in his chest, he made it up the marble staircase undetected, shoulders back, head up. He’d learned long ago in situations like this that the secret lay in walking with purpose, as though he belonged there. This proved true now, as well. He passed two maids and a butler without breaking stride, and none of them thought to even question his presence. No doubt they believed him one of the noble guests. Nobility was its own disguise, often as good as a mask.

As he turned a corner, he heard voices heading toward him. Normally, this wouldn’t have been cause for concern, but he recognized one of them as belonging to Willow.

Bloody shades!

Glancing around quickly, he grasped the closest door and pushed it open, stepping inside.

Just in time. As he pulled the door closed, leaving a small crack so he could look out, they rounded the corner. First, an older man who walked with regal self-confidence as befitting a nobleman. Next came Willow, her pretty face looking disgruntled and even a bit panicked. Last, a younger man who bore enough resemblance to the first that he had to be his son.

The king and prince of this palace? How had the princess gotten mixed up with them?

This situation grew more and more intriguing.

He watched through the crack in the door as they marched off down the hallway, heading toward the stairs. Though Chad knew following them would be risky, he couldn’t resist. Heart pounding, he waited a moment after they’d disappeared from sight, then strode off after them. This time he saw no one, so he wasn’t stopped or questioned.

When the two men and Willow went inside what appeared to be a huge office at the end of the hall, Chad stopped in a small and empty waiting room, glad the attendant or secretary, if any, was not at his or her desk. This entire thing had been ridiculously easy. Almost too much so. Now, he simply listened to hear what Willow and her companions had to say. Because they left the door open, their words carried easily.

At first, Chad was entertained to learn the humans—at least that’s what they had to be, though they gave off an aura of otherness—thought Princess Willow might be behind a bombing that had apparently happened the night before. His amusement grew as he realized Willow had taken all these risks to locate her mother’s missing earring.

Which meant the bauble must be powerful indeed.

Now most definitely, he thought, inching closer to the wall nearest the hall, he had to get this earring before she got a chance to return it to her mother.

Listening as the man—or prince—named Ruben dispatched a servant to his bedroom to fetch the jewelry; Chad realized what he had to do. He hurried off, taking the marble stairs two at a time as he headed toward the bedroom area. He arrived just in time to see a maid going into one of the rooms, and leaving the door ajar behind her.

Perfect. Without a second thought, he hurried in after her.

She’d just retrieved the earring from a dish on top of the massive oak dresser when she noticed him. At first, she showed no fear—nothing but mild annoyance flashed across her plain face.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong room, sir.” Her low voice, properly deferential, had a pleasing accent from a place he didn’t recognize.

“No, I don’t.” He held out his hand. “Give me that.” The earring positively glowed with power, though this human couldn’t see it.

As he’d expected, she shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t. Prince Ruben has asked me to bring this to him. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

Did she really think he’d step aside and let her travel merrily on her way? This time, he wouldn’t ask, he’d simply take.

He grabbed her arm. “Let me have it.”

Rather than do as she was told, to his disbelief she fought him. “No.”

Furious and savagely aroused, adrenaline pumping, he backhanded her, using his magic to silence her pitiful attempt to scream. When she pushed herself up, he hit her again. She stumbled backward and fell, losing her grip on the earring. It went tumbling to the thick carpet near his feet.

As he bent to grab it, amazingly, she managed to right herself and went for it, forcing him to backhand her a third time. This time, he put a bit more force into the blow. She went down for the count, her head making a sickening thump as her temple caught the side of the massive dresser.

She didn’t move again.

A woman appeared in the doorway and, seeing the maid and her blood, began screaming. Her eyes met his as he retrieved the earring and dropped it into his pocket. The hum of its magical power felt reassuring, somehow.

Then he turned and went out through the balcony, using the same method Willow had used earlier to enter.

He didn’t know if the maid was dead, nor did he care. Even though the older woman had seen his face, since Willow herself didn’t even know he’d followed her, he wasn’t of this realm. Once he slipped through the veil back into the land of the Bright, he’d be home free.

Making it to the forest unnoticed, he headed for the portal, intent on getting back to his own world long before Willow. Then he could examine the bauble at his leisure and learn what magical properties it contained.

Chapter 7

T
he bloodcurdling scream reverberated through the castle, repeated again and again, reaching a horrifying crescendo that finally culminated in silence. Utter and terrifying silence.

King Leo was up and running before the first scream had finished. “That sounds like your mother,” he shouted over his shoulder at Ruben, his expression revealing his terror. “Come on.”

Needing no second urging, Ruben took off after him, his pulse pounding. To his shock, Willow followed, completely ignoring her one chance to escape.

“To your queen,” King Leo shouted. “Aid your queen.”

Numerous guards poured out of the side hallways, ready to join them, expressions grim, weapons drawn and ready. Rushing up the stairs two at a time, the small army barreled down the hallway toward the bedroom wing. Running, King Leo led the way. Ruben and Willow were close on his heels.

At the long, empty expanse of hall, they all stopped.

“There.” Ruben pointed toward his own room. It was the only one with the door ajar.

“Step back,” Drake, Captain of the Royal Guard ordered, stepping in front of the king and neatly shouldering him aside. A small force of his elite guards surrounded him, bodyguard style.

King Leo pushed past them, swearing loudly. “I don’t need protection. This is my wife. Your queen!”

Ruben went with him. Barely inside the doorway, Queen Ionna lay in a crumpled heap. A few feet past her, also not moving, was one of the chambermaids, with blood seeping out from under her head, staining the carpet.

With a loud cry, the king dropped to the floor beside his wife. “Ionna,” he cried, feeling at the base of her long throat for a pulse. At least there was no blood.

Chest tight, heart aching, Ruben crouched down as his father frantically tried to revive his mother.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” King Leo cried. “She has no wounds that I can see.”

Ruben leaned forward, wanting to help. As far as he could tell, his mother was still alive. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Dropping to her knees beside him, Willow elbowed him aside.

“Let me,” she said, her voice calm and certain. “I think I can help.”

“Are you a healer?” Raw hope filled the king’s voice.

After the briefest hesitation, Willow shook her head. “Only with animals, but I think I can help.” She placed her hands on the queen’s forehead and took a deep breath. “She has only fainted. Give her a moment to come around.”

King Leo gave his wife a tiny shake. “Ionna,” he said again.

To everyone’s immense relief, this time the queen stirred at the sound of her name. A second later, she opened her eyes.

“What happened?” she mumbled, struggling to sit up. Then she caught a glimpse of the maid. Grimacing, her eyes widened. “Oh. Shadefire.”

She looked at Ruben and swallowed hard. “I was walking by and noticed your door was open. As I approached and saw the maid, I also saw a man standing over her.”

“Can you describe him?” Ruben asked, pushing away the hard knot of anger that had his inner wolf baring his teeth and snarling.

“Yes.” Swallowing hard, she said, “Tall, blond, handsome. He had the strangest color eyes. They were purple. He looked right at me and then took something off your dresser before he ran away, out the window.” She winced, looking queasy but resolute as she turned her gaze to Willow, indicating the maid. “Please, even if you are not truly a healer, help her if you can.”

With a small nod, Willow rose and went to the other woman, kneeling down and feeling for a pulse. After a moment she bowed her head, her mouth moving silently.

When she finally looked up, her eyes were full of pain and regret. “I’m sorry. She’s gone.”

“How did she die?” the queen asked softly.

“Someone hit her.” Pointing at the woman’s face, she sighed. “Numerous times. It appears she hit her head there.” She indicated the corner of the dresser. “See the blood? That final blow is what killed her.”

King Leo cursed, a particularly virulent word that he normally wouldn’t have used in mixed company. “First a bomb, now a murder.”

“This had to have been the man we saw following Willow,” Ruben said. “No one else has eyes that color.”

He looked at Willow. “So I’ll ask you again. Are you with the extremists?”

She lifted her chin. “And I’ll tell you again. I am not. I didn’t know I was being followed, but all of my people have violet or purple eyes.”

“Except you,” Ruben said, not entirely certain he believed her.

“Except me,” Willow agreed. “And that’s a story for another day.”

“So it wasn’t the extremists,” King Leo said, giving Ruben a sharp look that meant he wasn’t to protest. “Which makes sense, as they’ve never done things on an individual scale before. They go for as much damage as they can get with a single blow. Which means this killing...”

“Doesn’t make sense,” Queen Ionna finished, her expression worried.

“I agree.” The king began to pace. “And the more havoc they wreak, the less close we are to understanding the reason why.”

Ruben realized what the open box on his dresser meant and Ruben frowned, barely keeping his fury leashed. Inside, his wolf fought to come to the surface, all teeth and claws and rage. Darkness warring with light—shredding the edges of his sanity.

As though she somehow sensed this, Willow held out her hand and let him help her to her feet. The instant his fingers wrapped around hers, he felt a calming sense, like she’d poured a healing balm over an open and festering wound.

“Whoever killed her took your mother’s earring,” he told her, unclenching his teeth in an effort to speak normally. “Apparently, they believed it to be valuable enough to kill for. I’m very sorry.”

“I am too,” she said, her caramel-colored eyes shiny with unshed tears. “While that piece of jewelry definitely is priceless, it’s certainly not worth a life.”

As she moved slightly closer, her scent reached him, lilac and vanilla and some other muskier spice. The heady combination made him want to pull her even closer, to burrow his face in her hair and inhale her. He found himself wondering if she would taste as good as she smelled.

This time, his wolf shook himself, as though shaking off water. This action brought Ruben out of the foolish—and dangerous—line of thought.

“Murder and theft? Who could have done such things?” Queen Ionna asked, her husky tone vibrating with a combination of shock and anger.

Rushing to his wife’s side, King Leo met Ruben’s gaze before facing his captain of the guard. “Drake, I want you to find out how the killer escaped.”

“If he did,” Ruben put in. “For all we know, he might still be in the castle.”

Though he didn’t say the rest of it, he could see from Willow’s expression that she was thinking it, too. The killer might have been the same man who’d been following her. And he might have planted the bomb at the dance the night before.

If so, had the royal family of Teslinko actually been the target? Or had the intruder been after Willow all along?

* * *

Though Willow had no idea who had tracked her across her home forest and through the veil, from the description Prince Ruben and his father gave, she knew the man who’d been following her had to be one of the Bright. The humans had another name for her people, the Sidhe. This name comprised both people of the Bright and of the Shadows, though in human lore they were the Seelie and the Unseelie, or the bright and the dark.

From the stories she’d grown up with, she wouldn’t put it past one of the Shadows to have followed her here and killed a human maid to gain a little bit of Bright magic. However both Ruben and his father had said the man was fair-haired with a pale complexion.

Which meant her tracker had to be Bright. Unless...she frowned, wondering why she hadn’t thought of this before, unless there was a man among the Shadows who was exactly like her—the opposite of his own people.

Though the idea seemed intriguing, she immediately discounted it. She had no doubt she would have heard about such a man. Despite their animosity, she figured gossip traveled quite easily among the two Sidhe courts. Just as everyone among the Shadows was most likely well aware of her existence, if such an aberration existed among their people, she and all the Brights would know. Unless savages were better at keeping secrets, which she doubted.

Therefore, the man had to be a Bright. But her people did not kill. Such evil violence was strictly for those among the Shadows, or so she’d been raised to believe. For most of her life, she’d sensed undercurrents below the perfect, Bright surface. Was such darkness one of them?

Her thoughts must have shown on her face. When she blinked and looked up, she caught Prince Ruben studying her, his amber eyes intense.

“May I have a word with you in private?” he asked, taking her elbow in a firm grip so she’d know declining was not an option.

Even now his touch made her want to lean into him and rub against him like an affection-starved cat. Strange and oh-so-foolish.

To distract herself, she glanced at the king, still with his arm around his visibly shaken wife. Neither even looked at her, though the tense set of the king’s broad shoulders revealed his anger. The queen would be all right, despite her earlier faint, and there was nothing Willow could do for the poor maid.

Taking a deep breath, she looked back at Ruben and nodded. She wished she had enough willpower to pull away from his touch. Either that, or lean into it.

Foolish, foolish, Willow, she chided herself.

They stepped into the hallway, still teeming with guards and other curious guests and servants. Ruben took no notice of them, steering her down the hall, into a quiet and relatively private corner.

As he stood gazing down at her, her heart rate sped up, so fast she wondered if he could see her pulse jumping at the base of her throat.

“I owe you an apology,” he said, his expression inscrutable. “When I saw you breaking in to my bedroom, I—”

“I didn’t know it was your bedroom,” she felt compelled to point out, hating the breathlessness that crept into her voice no matter how hard she tried to keep it out. “But I owe you an apology, as well. I should never have tried to get my earring back the way I did. I should have just asked you about it.”

At her words, his gaze darkened. “Why didn’t you?”

She told herself she imagined the dangerous note in his voice. “Good question.”

Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, she tried to sound casual. There was no way in shadows that she could tell him the truth.

She hadn’t wanted to see him again. She’d been completely and utterly flabbergasted at the way he made her feel. Still was, in fact.

Instead, she thought it would be better to stick to business. “However, I can promise you if I’d had enough time to locate my earring, I would have been gone without troubling anyone. Most certainly your maid wouldn’t have been killed.” Her voice wobbled on the last.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured, and then he did the one thing she both craved and wished to avoid. He pulled her close, tucking her into his hard and muscular side.

A jolt of desire shot through her. Shades, she wanted more. Much, much more. Her body—and no doubt her face—burned at the idea.

Luckily, he appeared too engrossed in his train of thought to notice. “I’m going to hunt down this man and make him pay for what he’s done.”

She was used to seeing the supernatural, and something around him caught her eye. What the...? Eyeing him, she told herself she must have imagined the wild beast shimmering around his body. A wolf. An aura of a wolf. How was such a thing even possible? She blinked and it was gone. Or had it ever been? No. She couldn’t have actually seen anything. She must have been thinking of the creatures she knew in the forest.

Forcing herself back on track, she took a deep breath. “I’ll help you all I can.” Even as she spoke the vow, she knew she would do whatever it took. Because if he was from her people, then she suspected the killer was no longer in this realm.

Had someone else found the veil?

She moved carefully, tried to put a decent amount of space between them. Even as she did, he pulled her back, keeping her close.

Why? Because he liked the feel of her as much as she liked the feel of him? Or because he wanted to keep her from being able to run away?

Though the first explanation was more appealing, she settled on the second, choosing logic over a flight of fancy.

His next words bore her out. “Since my father appears to be well acquainted with your parents,” he said, a thread of steel creeping back into his deep, sexy voice, “perhaps I need to meet them, as well.”

For half a second, her heart stopped. Even as it resumed beating, she shook her head. “That’s not possible,” she began.

“I want you to take me with you to your home,” he continued, as though she hadn’t even spoken.

The very idea was not only impossible, but ludicrous. “I can’t do that,” she said flatly. “Sorry. You had a bomb go off here recently. Isn’t that enough to keep you occupied?”

“We know who set off the bomb. A group of extremists. My father has been searching for them for some time. He doesn’t need me for that. Now a woman in my employ was brutally murdered and your mother’s earring was stolen by someone who can only be one of your people.” He tightened his grip on her arm, his hard body now appearing menacing, though still far too sexy. “You can, and you will.”

Enough was enough. This time, Willow pulled away, shaking off his touch as though she found it not only distasteful, but repellent. And this time, he let her go.

Which, oddly enough, rankled. Calling herself all kinds of fool, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze, taking care not to let any hint of her thoughts show on her face. She’d watch for the first opportunity and then she’d simply disappear. Prince Ruben might search for her, but he’d never find her once she set foot across the veil.

Despite her best efforts, something of her thoughts must have come through her expression. Watching her, his dark eyes narrowed. “Guards,” he called. “Come here, please.”

She stiffened, wondering what he meant to do to her now. He wouldn’t dare have her thrown into a dungeon, would he? Not with the king and queen in the area, she reassured herself. After all, even if Ruben didn’t, King Leo knew who she was.