“Will we not be able to move faster without them?” Charles Clell asked.
Lawson nodded. “Probably, but there aren’t enough of us to fight whatever is out there. We need their help as much as they need ours.”
“Who will ride together?” Matthew Randel asked.
Patrick’s anxiety increased as Lawson divided the families into teams. He had been chosen to ride with his father and Ray Clell; a situation Patrick had hoped not to find himself in.
“We know the creature only strikes at night, thus there is no time to lose. Alaric’s men will expect us at the church by ten o’clock tonight. Go home now, gather your gear, and then meet us there.”
“Aye, Lawson,” the men replied, and the meeting broke up.
Patrick remained seated beside his father’s desk, struggling for air. Sweat beaded his brow.
“Son, are you sure you are fine?” his father asked again once they were alone. “You really are pale.”
“Yes, yes, I just need some air.” Patrick stood. “I will ready our horses.”
Without waiting for a reply, Patrick walked out of his father’s office and down the hall. His footsteps rang dully in his ears, and he did not hear his mother call after him to take his jacket.
Patrick’s stallion snorted nervously when he stepped into the stable. The animal backed away when Patrick tried to approach him and laid his ears flat on his head. When Patrick reached out a hand to take the horse’s head to put on the bridle, the stallion bit him.
“Whoa,” Patrick yelled, startled, and took a step back.
The stallion glared at him, ears back and nostrils flared. Patrick regarded him for a while, then took a deep breath and relaxed his stance.
“I am sorry, my boy,” he said in a gentle tone. The stallion’s ears pricked forward. “There were a lot of wolves about tonight. I had to shield myself from all the alpha influences.”
Patrick patted the stallion on the neck. He had been so preoccupied with his worries, he hadn’t even thought about how it would affect the horses. He would need to be more careful, or his father would find out. This would get complicated.
After an hour of brushing both horses, and getting their equipment ready, Patrick’s calm had returned to him. He could not draw judgement without further investigation; thus, he would ride tonight and see Angelica tomorrow.
When Patrick went back into the house to fetch their bags, and let his father know he was ready, not a trace of Patrick’s earlier symptoms remained.
“You found no beast last night?” Angelica asked sweetly as he greeted her by the dock at noon.
“No beast, my love,” Patrick assured her.
“What shall we do today?”
He looked at her deep blue eyes, and could not help his immediate physical reaction to their longing depths. He leaned in and kissed her. It would have to wait - for now.
“It is a beautiful day. Why don’t we have our picnic by the river?”
“In the shade under the oak?”
“Indeed, my love.”
Patrick picked up the basket she had brought, and then took her hand, leading her down to the river. He wished he could take her up to the boat shed, but he needed answers.
They spread the blanket within the ample shade of the oak tree close to the water and unpacked the luncheon Angelica had brought from the manor. Patrick still wondered how she always managed to sneak these items out every time.
An hour passed with them eating and joking and flirting before Patrick thought her relaxed enough to answer his questions. The fact that he thought she might become upset frightened him.
“Angelica, may I ask you something?”
“Of course, Patrick, what is it?”
Those eyes; so innocent.
“How are you able to get out of the manor every day without anyone noticing?”
She laughed; a sound clear and pure. “I have spent the past two years locked away in my bedroom. The only time I ever come out is when my mother drags me to a function. Whether I am there or not, it makes no difference. No one ever interacts with me.”
“Why? How can you live like that?”
Angelica’s face grew thoughtful. “I have never taken a liking to the daughters of the other lords of Ashford. I have always preferred my books and have spent years studying. My mother and father are hardly good company, so I took to keeping my own.”
“Yet your social skills are impeccable.”
She laughed again. “I didn’t say I never went out. I have been to the big cities; have dined with lords and ladies; have been to the opera. I am cultured, Master Patrick.”
This time he laughed with her, starting to feel silly about his questions, yet he pressed on. “Then tell me, my Lady, how do you acquire such bounty from the kitchens?” He gestured to the spread on the blanket around them.
Angelica blushed. “The kitchen boy is in love with me.” She giggled. “He would sneak anything out of the pantry, just to please me.”
“Oh,” is all Patrick managed to say.
“Now,” Angelica leaned forward to whisper seductively in his ear, “if you are finished with your questioning, will you not take me upstairs?”
He took her around the waist, and pushed her down on the blanket, making her squeal in delight. Trailing kisses along her neck, Patrick built up the courage to ask his last question.
“One more,” he said, leaning on one elbow and looking her in the eyes. “How did you summon me here?”
Patrick watched Angelica’s face go from relaxed and happy to confused and tense.
“What are you talking about, Patrick?”
“Angelica, you know there is no other place I’d rather be than with you, but last night you ordered me to see you every day while I am not hunting for the killer.”
She frowned. “I would not order you, Patrick. I merely ask you to visit me.”
Angelica struggled into a sitting position, and he had to let her go. She stared at him; hurt written all over her face.
“My love, I do not mean that you told me what to do in the traditional sense, but …”
“How, then?”
“Do you remember when I explained to you how my father is my alpha, and when he commands something of me, I must obey?”
Angelica nodded.
“That’s what you did to me last night.”
“But I am no wolf.”
“That’s why this is so strange, and the reason I had to ask. I am sorry if I offended you. Do you not know how you did this?”
“No, Patrick, I do not even know I did it, or what it is exactly you are asking of me.”
“I believe you, my love.” He took her hands. “It does put me in a precarious position, however. A wolf cannot have two alphas. If your command contradicts my father’s command, I could be torn apart. I can only obey one alpha at a time.”
“But I don’t even know I am doing it,” Angelica said, aghast.
“I think first we need to find out why you are doing it. I sense no wolf blood in you, even though I have been drawn to you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. There must be something within you that is allowing you to project the alpha.”
Angelica took her hands from his and clasped them to her chest. She was so pale he thought she might faint.
“Do not worry, my love. We will figure this out together. I needed you to know, and the danger it puts me in, especially with what is happening at the moment.”
Tears flooded her eyes then, darkening them. The pull Patrick felt for her proved too much to resist, and he took her back in his arms. Picking her up with her arms draped around his neck, he carried her to the boat shed, and up the stairs. In the dim light of the loft, he laid her down gently on the blankets.
“I don’t know what kind of creature you are,” he whispered in her ear as he undid the strings of her corset, “but I want to know every inch of you.”
The feel of her warm skin beneath his hands once he finally reached it sent shivers throu
gh his body. Patrick could barely remember the names of all the women he had been with during the war, but none had been as perfect as Angelica.
She exuded a pull over him he could not deny. When she was near, his body reacted instantly. With her, he wanted to be more wolf than man, making their lovemaking so much more exciting. Patrick growled now as he spread her legs, tasting her before dipping two fingers into her fold.
The tears had dried on Angelica’s face, and her eyes were closed, hiding the eyes that had gone almost entirely black. Patrick knew now that high emotion changed their colour, and he pressed on deeper, making her moan out loud.
The hot air within the loft soon had them sweating, and Angelica’s body glowed with passion as he watched her writhe with pleasure. He could contain himself no longer.
“Show me who you are, my love,” he whispered, bending over her, and driving himself deep inside her.
Angelica bucked beneath him as he thrust, grabbing hold of his arms. When he looked down, her eyes were open, dark with passion. The veins along her necks strained as she moved along to his rhythm, and her grasp became painfully tight. She spoke some words, but he did not grasp them.
Patrick hesitated; she strained so much, she looked like she might break. The moment he slowed, she looked directly at him. Letting go of his arms, she took his hips, encouraging them into movement. His arms tingled as the blood returned to them, but her hands on his hips driving him on were enough to convince him to continue.
Below him, Angelica cried out in ecstasy, and he could feel himself building when he noticed her veins turn black again. When it happened before it had lasted only a moment before it was gone, but it had frightened him nonetheless.
“Angelica,” he called her name, but she did not respond. “Angelica.”
Pushing himself up, he stopped, looking down at her. Immediately her eyes opened again, glaring at him, dark and dangerous. Taking his hips, she thrust them towards herself.
“No.” He grabbed her hands and pinned them to her side. “Angelica, come back to me.”
She squirmed beneath him, uttering words he didn’t know the meaning of, her dark eyes full of accusation.
“Please, my love, come back to me,” he tried again.
She blinked. Patrick’s heart skipped a beat. She ceased struggling.
“Shh,” Patrick whispered, rolling over, and taking her in his arms.
He knew not for how long he laid there stroking her hair before her body finally relaxed and her breathing deepened. He knew not what had happened to her, only that he needed to protect her.
While she slept, he cleaned her and put her underclothes on her. He covered her with a blanket as it became more chill, and then sat beside her until she woke up.
“Patrick?” she looked up at him, her eyes blue.
“I’m here.”
“Why am I so sore?”
“You do not remember?”
She shook her head.
“What is the last thing you do remember?”
Angelica smiled. “You were growling, and eating me, like the naughty wolf that you are.”
“Indeed, I was,” he chuckled. “And after that?”
“I … I don’t know.”
Patrick wiped his thumb over the worried frown on her forehead.
“I want you to know that I love you, Angelica. I think that we were fated to be together. There must be a reason why I am so drawn to you. You seem to be changing - into what, I do not know yet - but I will be here for you every step of the way.”
Angelica’s eyes widened; not in fear, but wonder. “You mean to say I could be a creature like you, but … other?”
“The world, in general, does not want to believe that there are supernatural beings among us, and we try to keep it that way. Humans do not like to think they are inferior, and they would hunt us to extinction. But, yes, there are other supernatural creatures out there besides werewolves.”
“Is that what you are hunting now? Another creature?”
Patrick nodded. “We don’t know what yet. Whatever it is, we believe it has magic. Powerful magic.”
The frown reappeared on Angelica’s forehead. Patrick waited for the thought to form in her head.
“How can I be changing? I do not have supernatural parents. How is this possible?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Unless you can remember that you were bitten, or stung, by anything over the past few months maybe? Or, have you spoken with a gipsy lately?”
“No,” she shook her head, “none of those things.”
Patrick took her in his arms and rocked her gently. Her terror trembled through her, and he held her tightly.
He had always known what he was; had learned from his father what the changes meant, and how to adapt to them. Angelica had no one to turn to with her questions. All Patrick could do was be there for her and lend her his strength.
The laws of the supernatural world dictated that Patrick had to report this, but in light of their current hunt, he thought it best to keep it quiet for now. They had enough to deal with. When all this was over, Patrick would have no choice but to tell his father. Then they could discover the answers together. In the meanwhile, Patrick would keep Angelica’s secret, and help her as best he could. He only hoped she would be able to control the alpha voice, or that it had been a singular incident. If ever her command conflicted with a command given by his father, Patrick would go mad. Historically, it was an extremely rare occurrence to have two alphas, and the basis for many a warning tale.
Hiding his dread deep within him, Patrick helped Angelica into the rest of her clothes and saw her home. He left her at the border of the property, wondering if she would be fine.
Riding home, all his thoughts were on Angelica, and he knew he needed to focus on what lay ahead, or else his preoccupation might prove dangerous. Remembering his training from the war, he closed himself off emotionally; becoming cold, distant, and ruthless.
It was his only defence against the situation; he would do anything to protect Angelica.
Chapter 12
It was a moonless night, darker than any other on which they had ridden out before. As on every night, the six teams hunted the forests around the town, carrying their torches.
“I have meant to speak with you,” Edward said, riding alongside Patrick at the head of the column of men.
“About what, Father?”
Edward shook his head; deep furrows appeared on his forehead. “I am not sure, my son. This hunt seems to have affected you strangely. You don’t speak anymore. You are too focused, too intense, and too hard on the men. Is it the war that has made you like this?”
“We have a mission, Father. If it isn’t focus we need to accomplish it, then what is?”
“We have been riding the woods for seven days now and have found nothing. Our wolf senses pick up no trace of anything. Everyone is beginning to hope that whatever it was has moved on.”
“There was a period between the first three deaths and the mass killing of the five as well. Who is to say it is not simply biding its time?”
“I understand you have experience in the art of war,” his father conceded, “but we are not dealing with soldiers here. This is of a magical nature, Patrick.”
“Then we should be even more vigilant.”
Edward sighed. “Yes, Patrick. All I am saying is that I worry. I can see that something weighs heavily on you, and it makes me wonder if the war has not left some scars. Please know that you can talk to me.”
Clenching his jaw, Patrick nodded. He was sorely tempted to confide in his father, but for now, he would have to carry the secret alone.
“Thank you, Father, I know I can.”
They rode on in silence. Patrick hated keeping secrets from his father, but while they continued to hunt the beast, he would not burden the wolf council with Angelica’s problem.
Day after day he went to her. On most days, they ate and laughed or swam in the river. Only twice more di
d she have an episode - both times her veins had turned black, and her strength had doubled.
Today, Angelica had been in a reflective mood. She said she hadn’t slept well, as her father had guests during the night, which disturbed her slumber. Patrick wondered why Lord Alaric would receive guests so late, but Angelica had no information on that part.
A cold shiver passed through Patrick then, causing him to look up; he knew this feeling. The men behind him glanced about in fear, and he could see Ray look at him questioningly from the back.
“What is that?” his father asked.
“That is what I told you about,” Patrick replied. “The thing in the woods. Beware, for it may be watching us.”
“It is real,” Edward breathed and then shivered as a ghostly wind shifted through them.
Roy galloped passed the men to join them. “What is this. Is it the beast?”
“I don’t think so,” Patrick replied. “I have encountered this twice before in the woods and, although it frightens me, it has never harmed me.”
“Frightens you? Pardon me, Sir, but I am terrified.” The lad’s eyes were wide open, looking about frantically.
As the men became more nervous, the horses grew restless. The chill wind blew amid the trees, uttering an eerie sound. Patrick was sorely tempted to order them to gallop to safety.
“Remain calm, and ride on,” he ordered.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood erect, and the urge to change into the wolf was strong. He could see it on Ray’s face, too, and even his father seemed as if he considered the option. Patrick did notice, though, that the horses did not mind the eerie presence, but only pranced beneath their riders because of the riders’ nervousness.
For almost half an hour, the presence accompanied them, fraying the nerves of the men to breaking point. When it finally left, three of Alaric’s men fell off their horses in a dead faint.
Patrick called for a halt, and they built a fire while they tried to revive the men.
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