by Diana Ballew
His eyes paled as he turned and walked away.
My heart shattered into pieces, for he was like a brother to me.
Gregore emerged from the dense woods in full sprint. Carrying my Jaeger rifle, he headed straight for me.
“There’s a pale, red-headed woman in our territory — walking down by the lake.”
I did not need my powerful senses to know to whom the red hair belonged. I grabbed my rifle from Gregore. “Stay back with the pack,” I said, before heading to find the trespassing She on my own.
I reached the wooded bank of the lake and spotted the Alpha sitting on a fallen log in her human form. Her hair hung in a blanket of red waves cascading down her back, and she was dressed in a flowing gown of jade green.
Rising slowly, she stared me squarely in the eyes. “I must speak with you,” she said, her brown eyes soft and poignant.
She was more beautiful than I would have expected. “You have crossed into my territory.” I stiffened my spine. “I must ask you to leave.”
She sighed as she approached, a demure smile spread across her generous lips. “Surely, you cannot turn away your mate.”
I snorted. “I am not your mate, woman.”
Her ginger eyebrows curved high. “After I allowed you to take me as you did a month ago, and so vigorously I might add, you most certainly chose me as your mate.”
My muscles tensed. “I did no such thing. I am a Were king and may choose whomever I wish, whenever I wish for my own needs. You met my physical needs — nothing more.”
She rushed forward and slapped me hard across the face. “Do you know who I am?” Her sharp voice carried across the lake. “I am not to be trifled with!”
I gripped the rifle so hard my knuckles turned white. “Pray tell, woman, who might you be?”
She placed a single finger upon my shoulder and walked leisurely around me. “I knew you were royal the moment I inhaled your scent, King.” She stood before me and leaned forward. “Do you not know royalty when you see it? When you smell it?”
I took a step back. “It’s no concern of mine whether you are royal or not.”
“’Tis the line of Koenig that runs through your veins, is it not?”
My heart stopped dead in my chest, resuming seconds later. “It’s not your concern,” I replied coolly, though my voice barely rose about a harsh whisper.
“Ah, but you are wrong.” She inched closer, her eyes narrowing, boring into mine. “You see, it matters a great deal.”
My blood chilled.
A small smile rested upon her lips as she closed her eyes and turned her face heavenward. “You are so very naïve, young King. I am older … wiser. ’Twas Koenig I approached years ago with an offer to blend royal bloodlines. But as you are well aware, he has since passed to the other side after he chose his successor — you.”
“Blending royal lines? You speak nonsense, woman. Be gone with you before the setting of the sun.” I turned to walk away.
“I am Queen Regine Delacour of the Court of Count Fredelon de Toulouse, and I have claimed you as my mate, King.”
The pulsing muscles in my jaw pounded with pain. I spun around to face her. “I don’t give a damn who you are. I grant you until the setting of the sun, Madame. If you are not gone from my territory, I will set my hunters upon you.”
She seized my arm in a flash, digging her nails deep into my skin. “You cannot leave me. You cannot simply abandon me. I am a queen, and I’m older than you. I have claimed you, King. It is a great honor for him I choose, do you not understand? I claim you.”
I shook my head. “Unhand me now, woman. You mean nothing to me. Go before I kill you myself.”
Her fingers dug deeper. “But —”
I eyed her firm grasp, my gaze slowing rising to meet hers. “I have claimed another. Be gone with you.”
Her russet eyes narrowed to mere slits, her nostrils flaring. She removed her grip. “I do not detect the scent of a She other than myself upon you. You speak lies.”
“As I have already informed you, Madame Delacour, I am taken.”
“I am not Madame Delacour. I am Queen Regine Delacour — your queen. Do you hear me, King?”
I waved my hand above my head in a dismissive manner and turned to walk away.
“Listen to me,” she called. “I am the only She capable of bearing offspring. Turn away if you wish, but I will find you again, for it is I who carry your Were child within my womb, and you shall never be allowed to walk away from that!”
My legs turned to weighted sand, nearly crumbling beneath me. I stiffened my knees, and tried not to fall as I turned to face her, shouting, “You lie. No female Were can conceive!”
“So young you are.” She approached and ran her finger across my pulsing jawline. “Had you been older — wiser — you would have already learned that I am not your ordinary She. I have certain abilities the average She does not. I assure you, I am very capable of conceiving, and I have done just that.”
“Therefore, because I am young you chose to trick me, fool me, deceive me?” I shouted. “Are you so vile that no king would have you before me?” I turned toward the lake, my hands balled into clenched fists.
She scurried in front of me, her expression a blend of determination and panic. “King — do not be foolish. We can rule all the clans — you and I. By mixing our stronger, ancient bloodlines we create a higher species. Don’t you see? This is for our survival.”
“I tell you, I will have none of it. I do not claim you. I belong to another.”
“Then it is you who speaks nonsense.” Small flashes of gold glinted like sparks of fire in her eyes. “It is I you belong to now,” she said, jerking her chin haughtily. “I have chosen you.”
“I will never be yours!” My roaring voice echoed across the water.
“We shall see about that.” She turned to leave. “Ah, before I forget.” She spun on her shoe tip to face me. “It seems my She, Charlotte, has fallen for one of your Weres. Unless you begin to see things my way by the time of the birth of our royal child, I will see her dead.”
I moved in and gripped her arm. “Are you so cruel — so wicked?” I spat at the ground near her feet.
She jerked from my grip and sauntered away. I stood frozen. In the distance, I heard her shout, “It is I, Queen Regine Delacour, who has claimed you. Never forget that!”
The following month, while Gregore, his older brother Franz, Edgar, and myself were returning from the village with supplies, I heard desperate cries. Sounds of frantic footsteps rushing through the dense woods followed, slicing through the serene glow of the setting amber sun filtering through the treetops.
Edgar sniffed and sprinted toward the noises.
“What’s happening, King? Shall we follow him?” asked Franz.
I, too, had picked up the scent. “No, ’tis a private matter, I believe.”
We heard heavy feet tromping on the path behind us. A moment later, Edgar appeared carrying an unconscious, bleeding woman within his arms.
“Help me! It’s Charlotte!” Edgar shouted. “Gregore, quickly, lay the blanket down. Franz, help me with her.”
Both men scrambled into action. I crouched next to Charlotte, my blood instantly going cold.
Charlotte’s neck had been slashed on the right side, and a deep gash carved into her cheek. These were not the injuries caused my jagged jaws or fierce claws, as I was accustomed to seeing, but clean and deep, made by a sharp tool.
I examined her injuries. “Charlotte, what has happened?”
Her soft brown eyes opened to narrow slits. Silvery trails of tears ran down her bloodstained cheeks. “I did nothing. She came at me.”
Edgar growled and shot up. Raking a hand through his hair, he scuffed the dirt with his boot, sending a clod flying. “Who has done this to you?”
“My queen. Queen Delacour. She has gone mad, mad with revenge.”
“Revenge?” asked a wide-eyed Edgar.
Charlotte’s eyes
rolled back in her head. Edgar knelt by her side and took her hand in his. “Stay with me, Charlotte.”
“A royal Were shall be born on this night,” she murmured. “’Tis my fault she must bear this alone. She scrunched her eyes shut. “She ordered the pack to hold me down, and she cut my face. I screamed for her mercy, for I knew not of what she spoke. Just as she slashed my throat, I turned my head and fought her with all I had. I ran as fast as I could.”
I felt the heat of Edgar’s angry eyes boring into me. “Bring her quickly,” I said, avoiding his penetrating gaze.
Once inside, Edgar pulled me aside.
“King, I do not wish to be disrespectful, but do you know of what Charlotte speaks? Is there a noble Were to be born? Did you know of this?”
’Twas then I told Edgar how I had been fooled by the Alpha She, how I was unaware of the queen’s royal blood or the magic power she possessed to conceive. I explained of her trap and devious trickery, and how I thought the very idea so preposterous, surely she spoke only lies.
His eyes softened. “Oh, King.”
“I never believed she would carry out her threat.” I begged for his forgiveness for my ignorance on the matter. As a king, I knew it was beneath me to plead, but I did so anyway, for Edgar was not only my loyal subject, he was a true friend.
That night, in the distance, I heard the She clan’s mighty howls of victory piercing the night sky as they welcomed a new Were — a prince, into their clan.
Under the bright glow of the moon above, I shrieked and bellowed as my body contorted, twisting from man to beast. I welcomed the flashing, searing pain, for surely there should be a price to pay for my ignorance. Every part of my distorted body crawled with warning, screaming for survival, the sensation so strong it seeped into the deep crevasses of my soul.
Just as I knew in my heart and soul that the sun would rise and fall each and every day, I also knew it was only a matter of time before Queen Delacour and the new prince, my son, would seek vengeance and power, and they would never rest until they saw me dead.
Chapter Six
Everett, Washington
Erin stepped on the stool and ran her fingers along the high shelf.
What did I come here for again?
A week had passed since the costume party. Seven days since she’d last seen Derek, and each and every day since then her mind had gone blank at the most inopportune times. She shook her head in an attempt to flush the steamy images from her mind, but all she could see were their tangled bodies consumed with passion.
A flush of heat burned her cheeks. Never, never, had she been so forward with a man, so accommodating. Yes, it had been years since she was a virgin, thanks to a certain English Literature professor at the university, but bedding someone purely for the sake of a frenzied roll in the hay was not in her usual repertoire.
She winced, wondering what had passed through Derek’s mind when he learned she had left in a taxi carriage early the next morning before he awoke. And when she demanded the flowers he’d had delivered to her office the next day be sent back with the deliveryman.
To purge the relentless contemplations, she had yielded to Frederick’s persistent requests for her company, just to keep her mind occupied with something else. She quickly realized that by allowing the prosperous Frederick Dimsdale to court her, more journalistic work managed to come her way. All week long, her father had given her the task of writing increasingly significant articles for the newspaper.
Frederick had taken her to fine restaurants, the theatre, walks in the parks, all while he talked incessantly about himself and his new burgeoning business. It was a bitter tonic to swallow with his constant chattering and coddling, but he did have a way of making her feel decent about herself again after her brazen romp with Derek.
“Ah, there you are.”
She closed the door and stepped off the stool. “Hello, Father. I was just getting some supplies.”
“Well, I’m glad I found you. I have two items for you to work on.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Anything exciting?”
“I certainly think so. First, I heard from the sheriff. Seems Mr. Avery from the cemetery was found dead this morning.”
Erin gasped. “Dead! How?”
“How dead? Very dead.” He smiled.
Erin swatted his arm. “Father, that’s terrible. You know what I mean. What happened to him?”
“Not exactly sure. The police suspect it was a wildlife attack.” He winced. “It’s pretty gruesome, and get this: More wolf prints turned up at the cemetery.”
“So, they’re back again.” She frowned. “Any graves disturbed this time?”
“I don’t have the details.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her squarely in the eyes. “I thought I’d leave that up to you.”
She cleared her throat and tried not to smirk. Her father knew she had just scheduled a date later in the week to attend the theatre with Frederick. In his eyes, she had grown more responsible by allowing the eligible young businessman the pleasure of her company.
Erin slowly shook her head. “I can’t believe this is happening in the city. Poor Mr. Avery. It must have been horrible.”
“I know. My thoughts exactly. Perhaps the poor fellow went fast. That’s all we can hope for now.”
“I’ll get right on that story after I finish the article on the Women’s Suffrage Vote. I’m almost done, and then I’ll stop at Delia’s shop for some flowers for Mother’s grave.”
Her father’s gaze softened. “You’re very good about doing that.”
“Well, I still miss her.”
“I know you do, dear. So do I.” He pulled her to his chest and rubbed her shoulder. “Now, chin up. I want you to interview the man who found Avery’s body — see what you can come up with. His name and address are in my office.”
“Is he an Everett man?”
“He’s local and lives nearby. Never heard of him, though. I want you to go to the cemetery first.” His bushy brows knitted together. “But I don’t want you to go there alone this time. Take someone, perhaps Frederick, and see what you can come up with.”
“All right.” She turned to walk away then spun on her toes to face him. “Wait. You said there were two things.”
“Oh, yes, how could I forget?” He clicked his tongue and rapped himself upside the head. “None other than Mr. Derek Rudliff has agreed to an article for the paper. You know how I’ve wanted to get an exclusive on him.”
Her mouth flopped open, and she stared wide-eyed at her father.
His eyes brightened. “I know, my thoughts exactly. Isn’t this fantastic? But, he’s agreed with one caveat.”
“And that is?” she managed to squeaked out.
“It must be you who conducts the interview. Apparently, you made quite the impression on him. Of course, I told him you’d be delighted to do the interview, and that you could meet him whenever his demanding schedule allows.”
Her stomach twisted. “Um, yes, of course. I’m … delighted.”
* * * *
ERIN buttoned her coat and lifted her face to the warming sun. Daylight grew short and the nights were especially long and dark these days, so it was easy to discover the incredible beauty of the Pacific Northwest when the sun came out to play.
First stop, the florist. She greeted her friend at the counter. “Good afternoon, Delia.”
“Erin. It’s good to see you, honey. Are you here for some flowers for your mama again?” Delia flashed an impish grin and whispered, “Or are you coming here to reclaim those flowers you sent back from Mr. Rudliff?”
“What?” Erin held back a smile. “You’re so bad for bringing that up.”
Delia’s perfectly tweezed blonde eyebrows arched high. “Well, what on earth were you thinking? Ever since that man moved into this city, he’s been all the talk with the women. You have seen him, yes?”
Oh, I’ve seen him all right. “Yes, I’ve caught a glimpse of him here and there.”
/> “Well, my dear, I think he’s positively dreamy with those brilliant blue eyes and wild dark-blond hair. I could just sop that man up with a buttermilk biscuit. But you. You must have made quite the impression. He spent a fortune on that bouquet I put together. When I informed him that you sent them back well … well, he was stunned to say the least. Finally, he told me to take them home myself.”
“And did you?” Erin asked far hastier than she had intended. Her stomach knotted with the thought of her flowers ending up with another woman who stood in front of her gushing about them.
“Well, of course I took them home, you silly girl. And they sat on the dining table the entire week. Since you apparently didn’t want anything to do with him, I sent Mr. Rudliff a thank-you card in return. I was hoping I’d hear from him again, but no.” She sighed extravagantly. “The story of my life.”
Erin smiled. Delia never had any trouble mincing words. “I missed you at the Suffrage Club meeting the other day. Are you coming tonight?”
“Yes, I’ll be there. But my poor father’s not doing so well. Pneumonia. Course this damp November chill hasn’t helped any. But I’ll be there.”
“Good. We need all the help we can get. Members of the Bible clubs have had daggers out for us lately. I just don’t understand why these women can’t get it through their thick heads we’re doing this for them, too. For all women. Makes my blood boil sometimes.”
Delia’s gaze softened. “Yes, honey, but change often needs to come in small chunks for some people. My parents don’t understand my passion in this matter, either. I suppose they’re just old-timey.”
The bells on the shop jingled. Erin turned.
“Ah, there you are, Erin. Your father said I would likely find you here,” said a beaming Frederick.
Mumbling under her breath, Delia fled with an audible swoosh of her thick skirts through a curtain leading to the shop’s storage room.
Erin stepped forward. “I was going to fetch you in a bit. Did Father tell you I was heading to the cemetery?”
“He did, and I’m here to give you a lift. You know how I feel about your traipsing around that dismal place, but as long as I’m with you, I promise not to complain.” He twisted his waxy mustache and smiled. “Besides, I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes.”
