Solenne looked at him with concern. “Do you require something? For a headache?”
He nodded, his brain jiggling uncomfortably with the motion.
Miles gasped, dropping the fork. A vivid red burn branded his palm.
Chapter 24
Aleksandar
Boxon
Vervain Hall
* * *
Alek turned to Luis, grabbing the young man by the arm. “Did Miles drink the wine?”
“What? Of course. We’ve all had some wine,” Luis said.
Everyone spoke at once. Alek closed his eyes, trying to think. Chambers knew about Alek’s condition, and he knew about Miles having been bitten. “Get him somewhere safe. He’s not in control of himself,” Alek said.
“Don’t touch him!” Miles rushed toward Alek, snarling.
He sidestepped the man, moving more sluggish than he liked. Miles crashed into a table. Gasps echoed through the room.
“What are you doing?” Charlotte stood at the table, her wedding finery sparkling in the candlelight.
“I say!” Jase lurched up on his one good leg.
Alek snarled at the man. Distracted, he failed to notice Miles as he moved for Charlotte. Apparently, his irritation with Alek was forgotten.
In a quick motion, Miles had the bride by the throat and pulled her forward, across the table. Dishes crashed. Glasses spilled and rolled to the floor before breaking. She screamed, weak and thin as the blacksmith crushed the air from her throat. Her face turned red. People shouted, rushing for the door. Furniture overturned.
All the while, her husband watched with folded arms and a bored air.
Alek stumbled forward, his legs not responding correctly. He just couldn’t move fast enough. It felt like lead weights held down his feet.
Damn Chambers. He’d tear the man’s throat out with his bare teeth for this, and he didn’t care who watched. His claws came out, and he felt his fangs descend.
Yes, ripping out throats seemed like a wonderful idea.
Godwin’s cane appeared behind Miles, pressing against the man’s throat. The man leveraged his weight, forcing Miles to release his grip on Charlotte or be choked.
Miles threw his head back, bashing it into Godwin’s face. Blood poured from a likely broken nose.
Sweet blood. Godwin’s injury pleased the beast inside him. The older man deserved to bleed for all the misery he inflicted.
Alek finally reached the grappling man. Miles twisted, slashing out with claws. He missed Alek, but Alek had not been his target.
He raked Godwin’s stomach. Scarlet red blood bloomed across his evening clothes. He looked at Alek in surprise, as if trying to blame this on him, and then collapsed to the floor.
Miles was back to Charlotte. He swiped, she ducked, but he grazed her scalp.
Alek tackled the out-of-control man. “Calm. Do not make me hurt you,” he said, growling behind his words.
For a moment, the man stilled, as if responding to Alek’s command.
“Good. I will help you. You wanted me to help,” Alek said.
Something in Miles’ eyes snapped. He foamed at the mouth, all teeth and snarling. With surprising strength—it shouldn’t have been a surprise, since the blacksmith was all wiry muscle—he flipped Alek onto his back. Claws dug into his gut. Alek twisted, trying to dislodge the man, but that made the claws dig in deeper.
“Not him! Her!” Chambers finally moved, grabbing his wife and shaking her by the arm like a rag doll. “What is wrong with you? Why don’t I care if you die? Where is our bond?”
Solenne
Solenne knocked Chambers’ hand away. It wasn’t hard. The man wasn’t expecting a woman to fight back. She placed herself in front of Charlotte, holding out her arms to create a barricade.
A self-satisfied smile crept across Chambers’ face.
“This is your handiwork,” she said.
His gaze slid over to her. In the confusion and the chaos, there was no mistaking the violet gleam in his eyes.
“You,” she said.
“Me,” he agreed. “I’m rather disappointed it took you this long to figure it out. You’re cleverer than the average person but still failed to see what was in front of you. Twice.” He nodded toward Alek, struggling to subdue Miles. “I suppose your uneven education is to blame. I wonder if Godwin knew.”
“Leave my father out of this.” She held his unsettling gaze, resisting the urge to look at her father on the floor. Bleeding. Unconscious.
Miles gutted him like a fish, like it was nothing. She pushed that horror away. She couldn’t help her father if she fell to a beast. Survival was the most important thing at the moment.
Solenne nudged a butter knife with her foot, moving it away from the overturned table. She held out her arms, forming a barricade. Charlotte stood behind her.
Chambers gave a lazy shrug. “I suppose he might not have been so eager to give you to me, had he known.”
“Solenne?” Charlotte’s voice sounded so far away, despite being close enough that she stepped on Solenne’s feet.
“What did you give Alek?” As soon as the question left her lips, she knew. Wormwood. A harmless anti-inflammatory, unless the person was a werewolf.
“Oh, not just Alek. Everyone. Wormwood. Wonderful little herb, isn’t it? It lowers the inhibition and lets the beast out.” That grin again, this time with too many teeth. His control was slipping.
“But why?” And then she knew. “Charlotte’s your anchor. Or you tried to make her your anchor.”
He growled. “She’s defective. Useless girl. I intended you for that role, but your heart was already set on another.”
“The anchor has to be willing,” she said. If she kept him talking long enough, Alek and Luis could subdue Miles, then focus on Chambers.
“Receptive. She was certainly desperate enough. Practically fell to her knees thanking me.” A vicious grin slithered its way across his face, and Solenne did not want to hear what other activities her friend performed on her knees. “But the connection just wasn’t happening.”
“So endangering her? That was the plan?”
“And it didn’t work!” He growled, and the hairs stood up on the back of her head. “I bit Miles on a whim, but he proved useful. Now, enough chatter, give me my wife.”
Charlotte pressed herself to Solenne, burying her face into Solenne’s hair. Step by step, she eased them away from the table and away from Chambers. Her foot continued to nudge the knife along.
“Come, my sweet, I can smell your blood. You smell delicious. I could just eat you up.” Chambers licked his chops, his face more beast than human now. He grabbed them both, tossing Solenne to the floor and lifting Charlotte. She kicked and squealed. His massive tongue licked her face.
“Stop!” Jase lurched forward, grimacing as if he stepped badly on his leg, and slammed a knife into his uncle’s back. Chambers turned to snarl a warning, acting as if he barely noticed the blade. The color drained from Jase’s face. He teetered on unstable legs, clutching the table for support.
Solenne took the moment’s distraction and rolled to the side, aware of broken shards of glass cutting through the thin material of her dress, and reached for the butter knife. It was nothing compared to the beast that masqueraded as Chambers, but it was silver and the handle felt sturdy. She thought the past months of terror this cursed man brought to them and what he took: Godwin’s eyes, mauled livestock, Jase’s leg fracture, the beast that cornered her at the stone circle, and Miles. If he survived his first shift, if he found an anchor, his life would be forever changed.
Her anger grew with each slight. This pathetic excuse for a man wronged her. Took from her.
Finally, Charlotte, the best person she knew, who had so much love in her heart. He was going to kill her. Solenne knew it in her bones, and she couldn’t let that happen. Charlotte was hers first.
The knife handle warmed to her touch. It nearly vibrated with her anger, demanding to be the instrument of
retribution. Fine weapons decorated the walls, but none were in reach. This is what she had. A gust from an open window stirred through the room, whipping up her hair.
She’d make do. She’d make the humble butter knife make do.
Chambers opened his maw, lowering toward Charlotte.
Rushing forward, she jumped and grabbed what she could reach. Her finger dug into his eyes. She grabbed his earlobe and pulled with all her weight. He tried to shake her off, but she clung to him. Claws raked her skin, sharp. Charlotte fell to the floor.
Solenne sank the knife into his eye, causing a roar that rattled the windows. The silver stung her hand, but she did not let go. Twisting and pushing it in as far as possible, she clung onto him until he finally threw away.
Chambers stumbled blindly, heading for the door.
Luis rushed him from behind and ran a sword clean through. She must have hit her head when she was thrown because the blade glowed violet. “I knew it,” her brother breathed.
Half-man, half-beast, and all monster, Chambers looked at the bloody point emerging from his abdomen. Such a blow would have ended any other werewolf. Hopefully, this weakened him enough to end this. He lumbered toward Luis, who darted back to the wall and grabbed the nearest weapon, a lovely silver-headed war hammer.
Chambers had decorated the room with the weapons of his own destruction.
“Mr. Parkell! Catch.” Luis tossed the war hammer to Jase, who looked rather at a loss as to what to do with the weapon. A look of determination settled on his face.
Luis grabbed a set of handheld axes for himself, the silver blades gleaming in candlelight and mayhem. He nodded to Jase and the two men rushed the weakened beast.
Solenne looked away. Fortunately, the pounding of her heart in her ears drowned that out the sickening crunch of metal against bone.
Chambers fell. Luis hacked at the neck, severing the head. Blood splatter coated everything, his face, his finery, the floor and those unfortunate enough to stand nearby. Luis’ jaw clenched with resolve to finish his gruesome task.
The beast did not get up again.
Chapter 25
Aleksandar
Boxon
Vervain Hall
* * *
The silver circle was a testament to Luis’ ingenuity. Silver forks, spoons, and knives had been hastily arranged around Miles. It was not a perfect circle, but it was unbroken and strong enough to hold a fledgling beast.
“Don’t come any closer,” Miles warned. Caught in a partial shift, cloth hung off him in tatters. Fur covered his arms and chest. Claws flashed. His face retained a human shape, if he had more teeth than usual.
He paced the circle, the claws on his feet tapping the ground.
“You promised, you promised!” Miles threw himself at the circle and bounced off an invisible barricade. He hissed, rubbing his shoulder. “Do it! What are you waiting for?” He slumped to the ground. “Please. You promised.”
Alek clutched the blade. Silver hummed in his hand, insulated with the leather handle. He had stood here before, with a newly shifted beast pleading at his feet. Usually they begged for life or vowed revenge. None had ever begged for release.
The knife clattered to the floor.
“I can’t. That was something I shouldn’t have promised,” Alek said, not sure if he spoke with mercy or cruelty.
Miles’ face crumpled.
Cruelty then.
“Don’t you give up,” Luis said. He stood just outside the circle, the toes of his shoes pressed against the unseen barrier. “Don’t you dare.” He glared over his shoulder at Alek. “And don’t you indulge his melodrama.”
“This is no life—” Miles started.
“Idiot.” Luis stepped over the barrier, into the circle, and pulled Miles forward into a kiss. It looked awkward and unpracticed, and Alek briefly wondered if he looked like he was trying to eat Solenne’s face when he kissed her. “This is a life. Your life now. Ours.”
“No, Luis.”
“I killed one werewolf tonight. Don’t ask me to end another.”
“I’ll hurt you. I hurt your father,” Miles said, more snarl than words.
“Chambers poisoned you with wormwood. Both of you,” Solenne announced. Kneeling next to her father, she tore at the fabric of her dress and pressed the wad against Godwin’s gut. “He wanted you to lose control. He wanted chaos.”
“This was his doing. Not yours,” Luis said.
“No. I heard him in my head. I wanted to please him,” Miles said, anguish plainly written on his face. “I’ll do it again. How can you stand the sight of me?”
A firm expression flickered across Luis’ eyes, not so different from when they sparred and the young man set himself against an impossible challenge. Solenne shared the same look.
“I’m your anchor. I know I am.” Luis tapped his chest. “I’m not letting you go, so you might as well let me help you. Stay with me.”
Miles slumped to the ground. Luis kneeled beside him, wrapping his arms around the blacksmith. “How can you tie yourself to someone like me? Pick someone better. Someone who’s not cursed,” Miles said.
“It doesn’t work like that. I should know,” Alek said. Both men lifted their heads in his direction. “I tried for years to forget Solenne, but I couldn’t. She anchored me. She always had.” Perhaps the connection would have frayed with time—another decade or so—but he doubted it.
Miles’ lips pulled back in a snarl. “Don’t speak to him! Don’t look at mine!”
“Territorial. Possessive. The bond is already there, whether you like it or not,” Alek said. He tossed the fallen dagger to Luis’ feet. “Just in case he gets out of line.”
“We’re not going anywhere.” He tucked the dagger into his boot. “How is Papa?”
“Breathing.”
Dr. Webb and Sheldon worked on Godwin’s unconscious form. The wound looked nasty and likely to fester. Unconscious was the best thing he could be.
Solenne arrived, blood splatter on her face and her hem soaked in her father’s blood. Or Chambers’. Or Charlotte’s. Probably a combination of all three. How preposterous to think she looked radiant, covered in gore and completely unflappable.
His mate.
The beast was so damn pleased with himself. Alek agreed.
He fished out a handkerchief from a pocket, pleased to discover it mostly clean. “How did he poison us?”
“Chambers dosed the wine,” she said, accepting the cloth and proceeding to clean her face. “Wormwood is harmless to everyone except you and Miles. Lowers your inhibitions, I gather, and makes the wolf more dominant.”
“Yes, that sounds right.”
“It’ll wear off. And you?”
“I want nothing more than to be alone with you, wife, but—” He looked about the room, at the overturned furniture, the destruction and the injured people. “What I want is irrelevant. Put me to work.”
Solenne
She should not have been surprised by Charlotte’s efficiency. After all, she had been helpless in the face of Charlotte’s organizing this disaster of a double wedding. As the lady of the house, Charlotte took control and coordinated the care of the injured and the cleanup.
She had a horrible feeling that people would refer to the day’s events as the Double Werewolf Wedding. Technically, it was a triple event, but it hardly seemed the time to split hairs.
“How do we help him?” Charlotte asked, regarding Miles.
“Wolfsbane. It will calm him down.” The herb acted as a sedative for a werewolf. So many people erroneously thought it was a repellent.
Charlotte looked as if she was going to question Solenne, but then shook her head. “I don’t suppose you brought your box of tricks to the wedding. No. I believe Lionel has some medicinal powders in his bedroom. Let me check. Perhaps he can do something useful.”
Chambers did, indeed, have a small medicine chest in his room, stocked with various herbs and pills. She found a packet of dried wolfsbane
, labeled in her own handwriting.
Well, that solved the mystery of her diminishing supply cupboard.
“Give this to Miles. The entire thing,” she said, handing the packet to Alek.
She watched her new husband and oldest friend dump the packet into a glass of water before pouring it down Miles’ throat. Alek seemed distant. She didn’t know how to explain other than he felt with her during the ceremony, as if they were one spirit. The connection between them was vibrant and alive. Now, it seemed muted, like he was pulling away. It worried her.
Did he think she held recent events against him? How could she? He saved Miles from making a terrible mistake. Alek was a champion in her eyes and the eyes of everyone in attendance.
Perhaps the number of witnesses was the issue. What was the saying? One person can keep a secret. Two can keep a secret if one is dead.
All those people saw his partial shift. He had to worry about repercussions.
Solenne cleaned the minor injury on Charlotte’s head. It bled freely, giving her a ghastly appearance as a bloody bride in her wedding gown, but it was small and easily covered with a bandage.
When that was done, she switched her attention to Godwin. Dr. Webb carefully stitched together his lacerated abdomen. She assisted by fetching supplies, fresh cloth, and clean water. When Godwin moaned, she held his hand.
Chambers’ body remained on the floor, covered with a wine-stained tablecloth. No one seemed to pay him any mind. Ignored and forgotten, it seemed a fitting fate. Soon his body would have to be burned, but that could wait a day. The living were more important, and no one seemed particularly aggrieved, other than Mrs. Parkell. She appeared with a basin of water and a cloth.
“It’s my duty as his sister to clean his body. Even if he was a monster,” she insisted. She dipped the cloth in the clean water and hesitated before she brought it to his impassive face.
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