The Unforgettable Wolf

by Jane Godman

  * * *

  The next few days slipped into a pattern. Violet spent most of her time resting. Her appetite was slowly returning and, with it, her strength. On the third day after their arrival in Otherworld, she was able to walk from the bed to a chair by the window and sit for a while, gazing out at the stunning view of the bay.

  She held Nate’s hand, a tiny frown creasing the smoothness of her brow. “I feel something for this place, but it doesn’t bring back any memories.”

  “Give it time. You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

  There was a knock on the door and Nate went to answer it. He returned with a petite, dark-haired woman. “Violet, this is Stella.”

  “Nate has been keeping me updated on your progress, but I thought it was time I came to see how you were doing for myself.” Stella’s vivid green eyes seemed to see beyond Violet’s face and into her thoughts. Maybe that was part of being a necromancer. Although Stella didn’t conform to the stereotype of the secretive, cloaked figure of legend. She was fresh-faced, smiling and very down-to-earth.

  “I’m glad you came,” Violet said. “I’ve been wanting to thank you for what you did for me.”

  “Being a necromancer can be a burden, but it sometimes has its high points. Being able to help in a case a like yours is one of them.” Stella turned to smile at Nate. “Cal is looking forward to showing you his maps and charts of Otherworld.” She pulled a face at Violet. “He misses the times when he was Merlin, the greatest sorcerer the world had ever known. Now he’s Cal, leader of the Otherworld Alliance. People come to him for diplomacy and advice instead of magic, enchantment and dark arts. It does him good to be with a friend from the mortal realm, someone who’ll let him be Merlin for a change.”

  There was genuine affection in her voice as she spoke about her husband, and Violet felt a tug of envy. A spark of “if only.” Stella was the key that tied her and Nate together. She had brought them both back from the dead. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. But we can’t be together. He is forbidden to remain in my world, and I can’t survive in his. I’ll never talk about him in the future with that easy, long-term familiarity with which Stella speaks of Cal.

  Those green eyes probed her face again. “Why don’t you go and see Cal in his study while Violet and I have a chat?” Stella asked Nate. “I promise not to tire her out.” Her smile became mischievous. “I’ll save that for when I introduce you to my children.”

  Nate raised questioning brows, and Violet nodded. “I’d like that.”

  When Nate had gone, Stella pulled up a chair so they were sitting close together. “How is he? I’ve thought about him often over the years, and wondered if what we did was the right thing.”

  Violet gave her answer some thought. Telling Stella the truth—that for most of the last six years Nate wished she had left him to die—was not going to be helpful. She tried to come up with something diplomatic. “I think for a long time he struggled to come to terms with what happened to him.”

  Stella nodded. “Cal has seen him in the intervening years. He was worried about how the need for vengeance seemed to have taken such a strong hold in Nate’s mind.”

  “Vengeance?”

  “On the werewolf who sent him to hunt me down. Even at the time, I know how hard it was for Nate to deal with that lisping voice in his head urging him to kill me. It’s no wonder Nate swore to one day take revenge.” Stella scanned Violet’s face thoughtfully. “Now what have I said to make you look so worried?”

  The truth was Stella had said a number of things that troubled Violet, but one stood out above the others. “You said there was a lisping voice in his head?”

  Stella’s animated face froze. It was the expression of someone who knew she had said too much. They are keeping something from me.

  “I talk such nonsense at times.” Stella gave a forced laugh. “When you are well, you will have to come to dinner and meet the children. We have a daughter, Thalia, who is named after my mother, and twin boys. Their names are Arthur and Jethro. That’s quite a complex story because they are named after the same person. King Arthur was, of course, Merlin’s protégé and best friend. Recently, we discovered that Jethro de Loix, who is a fellow necromancer and a friend of ours, is the reincarnation of King Arthur. He is also the lost King of the Faeries.”

  Stella was rattling the words off in a quick-fire way that betrayed her nervousness and didn’t allow for any interruption. Violet listened with half an ear. A lisping voice. It had triggered a memory. She knew a man with a lisping voice. It was the same man she had remembered in Paris. The angry man. He had a lisp.

  The story of Nate seeking revenge troubled her, but the man with the lisp pricked at the edge of her consciousness, close to the surface. She felt she could almost reach out her hand and touch him.

  As Stella continued with her stories of life in the palace and the exploits of her children, Violet tuned in with half an ear as she tried to capture that elusive memory. Who was this man? A man she was sure had played an important part in her life. A man Nate hated so much he wanted to kill him. A man whose identity those around her were determined to keep hidden.

  Chapter 15

  “Until recently, no one had really tried to draw any detailed maps of Otherworld.” Cal stood at the desk in his study and pointed to the charts that were spread on its surface. “Then, my friend Lorcan Malone and his wife, Tanzi, traveled to Valhalla and brought back more detailed information about the islands beyond the territory that was charted. These are still not perfect, but they are a hell of a lot better than what we had before.”

  “Valhalla?” Nate raised his brows in surprise. “Isn’t that where the gods live?”

  “Valhalla is Odin’s hall of fallen heroes.” Cal indicated the farthest point on the map. “These are the Isles of the Aesir. They are the approach to Asgard. That is the home of the gods.”

  “You’ll have to excuse my ignorance.” Nate shook his head with an expression of bemusement. “It’s not every day I find myself in a place occupied by gods, werewolves, faeries and heaven only knows how many other races.”

  “That’s the reason for this geography lesson,” Cal explained. “Otherworld is essentially a series of islands. As I said, until recently no one had attempted to chart them. This is still only a rough guide.” He pointed to one of the biggest land masses on the map. “We are here. These are the Faerie Isles. The fae population is one of the largest and most powerful in Otherworld. Now that Moncoya is dead and Jethro is king, the whole political situation throughout Otherworld has become more stable. The other leaders are no longer looking over their shoulders, fearing an invasion.” Cal moved his finger to the next group of islands. “This is the Vampire Archipelago.”

  Nate raised incredulous eyes to his friend’s face. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Deadly, and that’s not a pun. Ruled over by Prince Tibor, one of the most powerful of the Otherworld rulers, the vampire dynasty is probably the most stable of all. Tibor does not allow for any criticism of his rule.”

  There was something chilling in Cal’s words. Nate resisted a sudden impulse to look over his shoulder. “He sounds formidable.”

  “If you meet him while you are here, you will encounter nothing but courtesy and charm. It masks the fact that Tibor is a ruthless killer.” Cal shrugged. “He’s a vampire prince. Killing and being ruthless are what he does best.” He was about to move on, but he paused. “On second thought, since you are mortal, it’s probably best if we make sure you don’t encounter him while you are here.”

  The words sent a shiver down Nate’s spine. They were a timely reminder of the dangers he was facing here. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Tibor may be the least of your worries.” Cal’s silver eyes shone bright on Nate’s face. The sorcerer moved his finger to another, larger cluster of islands. “The sworn enemies of the v
ampires have always been the werewolves. These are their lands. There are hundreds of islands making up the territory known as the Wolf Nation. The two main islands are Reznati and Urlati. Reznati was the base of Anwyl. Urlati has always been Nevan’s home. In recent years, the feud between the vampire and werewolf dynasties has lain dormant. That’s because the werewolves have been fighting their own, internal battles.”

  “I know something of that struggle, remember? When he was inside my head, controlling my movements, Nevan wasn’t the leader of the werewolves. He wanted Stella’s heart because he believed it would give him the power he craved.”

  Cal nodded. “There was an ancient prophecy that whoever could claim the heart of the necromancer star would unite Otherworld. Some people, like Nevan, took it literally and believed it meant if they could rip her heart out of her body they would rule Otherworld. What it actually meant was that the person who won her love was destined to bring together the warring dynasties.” Cal held his arms wide. “You’re looking at him.”

  “So Nevan sent me to rip out her heart and he didn’t even have his facts straight?” Nate asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

  “At that time, Nevan would have done anything to topple his rival Anwyl. The dispute between them had been going on for many years at that time. I’m not sure even the two of them can recall what the trigger was. The werewolves were in chaos. When Nevan finally did defeat and kill Anwyl, many thought it marked the beginning of a new era of stability. Nevan has many of the same traits as Tibor. He is ruthless, but he is a strong leader.” Cal ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Instead, we have exactly the same situation going on between him and Roko. When Nevan defeated Anwyl and took over as Wolf Leader, Roko formed a new resistance. It was low-key and posed no real problem for Nevan, being more about charitable aid than armed opposition. God knows what possessed Nevan to have his beta wolves drag Roko away from a party in the mortal realm and throw him into prison in Otherworld for what appeared to be no reason. He has made a minor enemy into a hero.”

  “I may be able to shed some light on that,” Nate said. “I don’t know all the details, but the night I met Violet, she was in a forest close to a werewolf party. She lost her memory during an attack by the feral werewolf I was hunting. Although she had no idea who she was, or where she came from, I thought it was safe to assume she had something to do with the party. I took her to the house with the intention of finding out if anyone there knew her. When we arrived, a man called Roko—who seemed very agitated—recognized her and approached us. That was how we knew her name was Violet. Before he could say or do anything else, a group of werewolves—the same ones who disrupted the Beast concert in Marseilles—burst in and attacked Roko and his friends. They dragged them away with them, saying they were taking them to their master.”

  “So Nevan’s reason for locking Roko up was personal, not political. It was all about Violet. Roko was only imprisoned recently and for a short time, so that would fit with what you are saying. Nevan’s beta wolves went to the mortal realm, where they must have been searching for Violet. They returned with Roko and his friends, throwing them into prison in the Wolf Nation without charge.” Cal whistled. “Roko escaped and, now he is free, he has drummed up a huge amount of support for his cause. Werewolves are intensely loyal, and his followers are outraged at the unfair treatment he received.”

  Nate frowned, his concerns more personal. “Why was Violet in the mortal realm with Roko? Were they in a relationship?”

  “Not that I’m aware. Before she disappeared, Violet was becoming quite outspoken against her father’s methods. The reason I met Violet was that she was campaigning for the Alliance to help the refugees who had been displaced when her father defeated Anwyl.” Nate remembered Violet’s brief flash of remembrance about a man who was angry with her. “I expect that brought her into contact with Roko, since he held many of the same views as her about Nevan’s autocratic style and was also involved in the relief effort.”

  Nate did his best to fight off the wave of jealousy and fear that was threatening to sweep over him. His job here was to return Violet to her own life, not to protect his own interests. He had to accept that he had no part in her future. There was a reason why she had been with Roko that night. If that reason did turn out to be a romantic one...well, that was Violet’s business and no one else’s. Not even mine.

  Cal continued speaking, drawing Nate’s attention away from the dark thoughts that were threatening his composure. “The reason I wanted to explain all of this to you is that it may pose a more immediate problem for you during your stay here in the palace. Part of my job as leader of the Alliance is to mediate in any disputes that may disrupt the peace between Otherworld and the mortal realm. This clash between Nevan and Roko is spilling over and causing problems between their followers in both worlds.”

  Nate frowned. “How does that affect me?”

  “I have been trying—and, until recently, failing—to get Nevan and Roko to sit down together to see if we can reach an agreement on a way forward. They have finally agreed to a meeting. Both of them are arriving here in a few days for peace talks.”

  * * *

  Although Stella explained that time was not measured in the same way in Otherworld as it was in the human world, Violet judged that a mortal week had passed since her arrival. A week in which she had grown steadily stronger.

  This was the first day on which she had felt able to leave her room, and now she sat in a chair on the terrace that ran the length of the rear of the palace. A blanket covered her knees, even though the day was warm. Bright sunlight dappled the perfection of the lawn, and a light breeze stirred the heads of nearby multicolored roses, sending wafts of delicate perfume in Violet’s direction.

  Around her, the conversation ebbed and flowed. Cal had taken time out from affairs of state to join the family group, and he and Stella were accompanied by the Faerie King and Queen. Jethro was not what Violet had expected from faerie royalty. The man who had once been the legendary King Arthur certainly looked like he belonged to another era with his swept-back, wavy hair and hawk-like profile. He had a swash-buckling, dangerous air about him. In looks, his wife, Vashti, made up for her husband’s lack of fae-ness. She was dainty and fair, although Violet got the impression that beneath her ethereal exterior she could be tough and uncompromising.

  The group had been expanded by the arrival of Vashti’s twin sister, Tanzi, and her husband, Lorcan. Stella explained that they had traveled from their home on the Isle of Spae for one of their regular visits. Children belonging to each couple tumbled on the grass. Violet and Nate had been welcomed into the noisy family group as if they were old friends. Violet was surprised at how comfortable she felt with these people. Since her memory had still not returned, she had nothing to compare it with, but she wondered if she had ever felt this at ease in any other company. Laughing at silly jokes, playing with the children, chatting about everyday things...it was all so easy and relaxed.

  The children’s backgrounds were complicated. Each was a mix of faerie, mortal and necromancer, with Cal and Stella’s feisty daughter and rough-’n’-tumble twins having the most complex pedigree of them all. It didn’t matter. They were all individuals, and the love that was lavished on them stirred a deep, previously untouched longing within Violet. Our children would be half human, half wolf. They, too, would be loved for who they were.

  This is what I want. She reached for Nate’s hand, and saw her own thoughts reflected in his eyes. It was so unfair that the future couldn’t promise these simple pleasures for them. She didn’t want riches or fame. Just laughter and hand-holding and companionship. Just Nate...and one day a family of their own.

  She still hadn’t broached the subject of what he was keeping from her. Perhaps it was cowardice that kept her from doing so. She preferred to think it was self-preservation. She had almost died, and she owed Nate her life. She trusted him wi
th every fiber of her being. This last week had been about garnering her strength. And, maybe, just maybe, unraveling the threads of her lost memory to find a way back to who she really was. Because, if she could do that, wasn’t it just possible she might find there was a glimmer of hope for her and Nate? She would do anything—go to the ends of this world and the next—if it meant they could be together.

  Her ears tuned in to the remarkable stories of the couples around her. Of Cal and Stella, who had fought the mighty Moncoya in an epic battle to be together. Lorcan and Tanzi, who had faced the wrath not just of Moncoya, but also of Satan himself. And Jethro and Vashti, who had traveled to the legendary Isle of Avalon and faced the evil sorceress Morgan le Fay before discovering Jethro’s true identity.

  If they could do all of those things, can’t we find our own way? She just needed to push aside the curtain that hid her past from view. To get to the life she wanted, she had to unearth the life she once had. And sitting here with a blanket over her knees was not the way to do it.

  Although she hadn’t shifted since her arrival in Otherworld, she had been conscious of the wolf inside her growing stronger. Senses she could only attribute to her inner shape-shifter were growing more pronounced. Every physical sense was enhanced. Colors appeared more vivid. Sounds were stronger and clearer. She could detect scents that normally passed her by. Her sense of taste was richer. Her skin was highly sensitive to the slightest stimulus. All of these things gave her a sharper awareness of what was going on around her. And a restlessness that wasn’t going away.

  When Stella announced that she was going inside to see to lunch, Violet leaned closer to Nate. “Can we take a walk?”

  “Are you strong enough?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Thrusting aside the restrictive blanket, she got to her feet. She was pleased to find there was no wobble in her legs, and although she didn’t feel ready to run for miles the way she used to, she felt invigorated. She was still woefully thin, but she could almost feel the strength flowing back into her limbs.