Wolfs Honor

by Abigail Barnette

  On legs that felt oddly detached from her body, Ursula stumbled after them. She could not let him take the child into the night, into the cold. He would not survive without her, she was as certain of that as she was certain she would not survive without him. She thought of Henry’s face, how he would react when she told him that their son had been taken. He was a good man, as good as ever she had met. He did not deserve to be beaten by a coward like Lucas, and Lucas did not deserve the child he now tried to steal.

  There was no weapon at hand, nothing but the splintered wood from the door. She lifted one chunk, studded with iron nails as thick as her thumb. Ignoring the blood dripping from her chin, she crept up behind him. The babe’s squalling was loud enough that Lucas would not hear her, and she silently thanked her son for having his father’s good sense. She only hoped that the rushes on the stone and the swaddling wrapping him would be enough to cushion his fall when she knocked the man carrying him out cold.

  Aurelia looked up from where she lay on the ground, her eyes wide. Ursula looked from her to Lucas, who had almost gained the door, and hoped she would understand the message she tried to convey with her eyes. Get the baby, take him from harm.

  Then, with all of her might, she brought her arms up over her head and smashed the chunk of oak and iron down on the back of Lucas’ head. He stumbled; for a terrifying moment she thought he might fall forward and crush the baby, but Aurelia shot to her feet and grabbed him, wresting him from Lucas’ arms. Faced with the option of releasing his hold to grab at his wounded skull, Lucas gave up the baby, and rounded on Ursula with a roar of fury. He swung one big fist, and she dodged the clumsy motion, but the next time, he caught her, his knuckles ramming into her cheek with such force that her teeth clashed together. Her face throbbing, she continued her backward retreat, watching as Aurelia scrambled out the door with little Henry.

  They were gone. Her babe was safe. Aurelia would hide and help would arrive, and though Ursula knew it would be too late for herself, she rejoiced that her child was out of danger. He reached out and easily caught her, his hand gripping her shoulder and a handful of her hair. He dragged her to the ground beneath him, and for a panicked moment she feared that she knew what would come. He was not intent on ravaging her this time, and it was a small comfort as his hands closed over her throat and his thumbs pressed into the hollow between her collarbones.

  She fought him for as long as she could, sinking her fingernails into his face and pulling hard, leaving long, bloody furrows down his cheeks and nose. She jabbed at his eyes and pushed at his shoulders, but he was so much stronger. Stronger still was the hate he bore her, giving him the strength to squeeze the life from her, undeterred by her efforts.

  Then a snarl broke the air, and Lucas flew from her. She lay on the rushes, still gasping under the phantom pressure of Lucas’ hands, unable to move. There was a scream, and a horrible, frenzied tearing, and then Henry was at her side, pulling her into his blood-slicked arms and repeating her name over and over in broken sobs.

  She tried to tell him that she was fine, that their son was safe, but her voice would not come, and she settled instead for lifting her hand to touch his face. Only then did she realize the reason for his despair. She must have looked half dead, with her face bloody and bruised, and her throat the same. She pulled in huge breaths, greedy for the air she had been denied. Finally, coughing, she managed, “I am fine. The babe—”

  “I have him,” Aurelia called out, and then she screamed. Ursula struggled to sit up, and saw the mess their wolves had made of Lucas. Raf still prowled around the twitching body, torn practically in half. The man’s entrails spilled across the rushes in a bloody, glistening mass, and a wet gurgle choked from his throat.

  Carefully propping Ursula up, Henry got to his feet and, with weary, exhausted steps, went to the door, where Raf’s iron leg lay among the shattered wood. He lifted it, tested the weight in his hand, and approached Lucas, who, despite his grave injuries, raised one hand in an attempt to prevent his own demise. Without a word, Henry brought the leg down so hard that it rang off the stone as it split Lucas’ head in two.

  Beside the body, Raf changed his form, sitting naked and gore-covered on the rushes. He looked from Henry to Ursula, and then to his wife. As Henry strode across the hall and took his son from Aurelia’s arms, Raf said quietly, “We have news that we must discuss.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The gray dawn that broke over Fallow Manor echoed the apprehension of the small gathering outside its new, reinforced door. The snows had long since melted, and yellow, sickly grass stood in a strange contrast of silver and gold with sky. A cart, loaded down with chests and tethered to an impatient ox, awaited its driver, who leaned heavily against the stone wall.

  “Are you troubled by leaving?” Henry asked Raf, half-listening as the women made their goodbyes and Aurelia lamented that she would not hold young Henry again for some time.

  “Not as troubled as my wife. Though I think she misses the babe more than the house.” He summoned up a grim smile. “I never thought I would return to Blackens Gate, Henry.”

  “I wish I were going with you.” It did not seem right that his best friend should go and face the wolves with only a Frenchman as his second. But he did not want to take his son into that bleak place, at least, not until Raf had restored order and reformed the place. After Lord Canis’ death, most of his wolves had scattered. Those who remained loyal had stayed behind, barely controlled by Brujon’s efforts. They would obey a Canis, especially the one who had once wounded the betrayer, Roderick.

  “I will send for you,” Raf promised. “When it is safe for you and your wife. For now, Sir Henry, you hold all the lands at my northernmost border. I trust you to manage them well.”

  “Thank you. Genuinely, and from the bottom of my heart,” Henry said, clasping his friend’s wrist in a hearty shake. “I have every faith that you will bring these dogs to heel.”

  “I should hope so, and before the summer ends.” The corner of Raf’s mouth twitched, as though he suppressed some emotion he was unsure of. “Aurelia is with child again.”

  The initial surge of pride and congratulations died before Henry could voice them. It was clear, from the lines on his friend’s face, that he feared another poor outcome. “I will pray that you soon share my joy.”

  Raf nodded, but he did not speak. He turned his eyes to the cloud shrouded sky. “I fear a change is on the wind.”

  Henry arched a brow. “Greater than the ones we have already weathered?”

  “I see your point.”

  Aurelia came through the door, her dark green cloak bundled around her. “You will bring them to visit us, Henry?”

  “Once it is safe,” he promised, turning to his wife and son standing in the door. Tears shone in Ursula’s eyes as she bid her friend farewell. Raf lifted his wife onto the cart and climbed up beside her. He snapped the reins and the petulant ox bellowed, but started forward.

  Henry and Ursula stood for a long time at the threshold, watching their friends drive away. Though he could scarce believe the truth of it, Henry said, “I suppose we are the lord and lady of Fallow Manor now.”

  “It seems so.” Ursula jostled the babe gently in her arms to soothe his fussing. “I would have been content with a cottage.”

  “As would I.” He looked to his wife, pleased that the dark bruises Lucas had left on her cheek and throat had faded to a tinge of grayish-green. She spoke better, too, though the empiric that had come to examine her warned she might always speak with a certain hoarseness. He reached for his son, eager as always to have him in his arms. He pacified the infant’s red-faced squalls with one fingertip in his tiny mouth. “It seems there may be dark times ahead.”

  “There may be, but we have survived dark times before,” she reminded him. She slipped one arm around his waist and leaned against him. “And come out the better for it.”

  “I am glad you think so,” he chuckled.

  She
did not laugh with him, her expression growing serious as she looked up at him. “I do not jest. I love you, Henry. For all you have done for me, and for our child. I will never be able to repay you.”

  He kissed his son’s forehead, reveling in the sweet, milky scent of him. “You already have. And it has, truly, been my honor.”

  Then he kissed her, long and slow, and guided her into their new home.

  About the Author

  The alter-ego of USA Today Bestselling Author Jennifer Armintrout, Abigail Barnette was born during a conversation with author Bronwyn Green, who encouraged Jennifer to develop an elaborate fantasy persona-- complete with nom de plume—under which to pen erotic romance. Abigail enjoys long naps in fairy-filled glades, running through corridors in tragically romantic haunted castles, and drinking goblet after goblet of spiced wine.

  Abigail loves to talk to her readers and can be found at abigailbarnette.com.

  Also Available from

  Resplendence Publishing

  Bride of the Wolf by Abigail Barnette

  Commanded to marry the son of Lord Canis, a powerful ally of her father and King Edward, Aurelia knows she is about to venture into a den of wolves. For the men who live at Blackens Gate are no ordinary men, able to change at will into enormous, bloodthirsty beasts…and as a mere human, Aurelia is a reviled outsider.

  When the wolves escorting his brother’s bride to Blackens Gate turn on her, Sir Raf Canis finds himself in the unlikely position of rescuer. After losing his leg—and his place in the pack—Raf refuses to bring himself further shame by failing to deliver the lovely Aureilia. But the innocent maiden proves to be a temptation even he cannot resist.

  Within the dark, dangerous forest, a love begins that neither can deny. To protect Aurelia, Raf must betray everything he has come to believe about his life among wolves, and risk death to save the only woman ever to touch his wounded soul.

  Lady of the Isle by Temple Hogan

  From the Sea Series, Book One

  From the sea, two tormented souls are washed ashore—one a beautiful, mysterious lady, the other a man who'd once been the King's warrior and is now a lowly fisherman. As Rioghnach and Cormac learn to heal and trust in love again, they spend sun-seared days and starlit nights exploring the need that draws them together.

  The Pirate Bride by Temple Hogan

  Book Three in the Pirate's Booty Series

  Red Charlie is the scourge of the sea, the devil himself, so imagine Jackson Shaw’s stunned disbelief when he recovers from a drunken night of revelry and discovers he’s married to the infamous pirate captain. Furthermore, he did not acquit himself with much sexual finesse on his wedding night. Now he wants to redeem his mangled pride, but a few nights in Red Charlie’s arms will make him forget about pride…

  Charity, known to the world as Red Charlie ever since she was abducted by the same bloodthirsty pirate who killed her parents, relaxed her guard for one night and was ushered into a hasty marriage with a man who mesmerized her. But when the bridegroom mistakes her for a whore on their wedding night and expects her to perform sexual acts she knows nothing about, she runs away. But there’s no running away when Jackson captures her pirate ship and refuses to return it unless she spends two weeks as his wife, with all that entails.

  Charity sets out to teach Jackson a much needed lesson, but the tropical nights of lovemaking teach her a few things about men that she never expected to learn.

  Beast by Abigail Barnette

  Naughtily Ever After, Book Three

  Accused of treason by his own father, Prince Philipe of Chevudon finds his flight to safety cut short by an arrow to the shoulder. There is only one person to whom he can turn for help, the only woman he ever loved, the only person he ever truly betrayed…

  Following the destruction of her home and family in a fire that left her horribly disfigured, Johanna has lived a life of hardship and pain. When her lost love comes to her, wounded and on the run from his father’s guard, she cannot turn him away. But she cannot forgive him either.

  Can a prince who was once a beast earn back the love he cast aside?

  Unmasked by Genella deGrey

  Venice, Italy, 1795 - Gwendolyn Rawleigh longs for adventure, but has fallen into a clandestine, carnal game of instruction with an intimidating stranger who insists she must embrace this new found tuition before she can proceed.

  Marcello Verdante finds the alluring Miss Rawleigh irresistible. However, he must remain anonymous for her safety as well as his own.

  Ellie Appelton wants so badly to emulate Gwennie's sophistication, but is afraid of where her own wicked thoughts may take her. She finds her liberation in a close, intimate friend . . . her impromptu Chaperone.

  Never in his wildest dreams did Preston Rawleigh think to find himself attracted to his sister's innocent best friend… Then again, the magical wonderland of Venice can reveal secret truths even a masked reveler cannot hide.

  Come spend a few days exploring the sensual mysteries of Carnivale -

  Some will be pursued, most will be caught, and all will be Unmasked.

  Tutoring Miss Molly by Lyn Armstrong

  Desperate to help her sick aunt through another brutal winter on their meager farm, Molly Cambridge will do anything to survive. Even if it means becoming a courtesan at the scandalous Harmon Manor. To catch the eye of a wealthy benefactor, she must learn the art of carnal pleasure from a resentful Marquess. Yet her traitorous heart cannot resist the handsome tutor that harbors secrets that may destroy them both. With attempts on her life and time running short, love is a luxury a courtesan can ill afford.

  Bored with the spoiled, decadent lifestyle of the infamous sex society, Lord Devlin Harman has little time for courtesans and their cunning wiles. Blackmailed into tutoring an inexperienced courtesan, he is determined to show the farm girl the error of her ways. However, a unique beauty exists beneath the mud-stained rags, causing his jaded heart to melt and his flesh to burn for her touch. If she does not become the chosen courtesan at the mistress auction, he must marry a devious aristocrat by spring. Can he let Molly be a courtesan to gain freedom from his marriage contract? Or will he sacrifice everything for a farm girl?

  Heat Lightning by Patricia Pellicane

  Arizona Heat Series, Book Three

  Abby was going home for her mother’s wedding. Caught in a train crash, she was horrified to suddenly find a strange man laying over her. That he was attractive bore no consideration. This simply could not happen. “Don’t fall asleep,” she pleaded, “oh please, don’t.” What had she ever done to cause this impossible moment? She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t! She’d never sleep while pressed to the train’s filthy floor, held in place by the full length of a strange man.

  The night went wild with the sounds of shattering glass, crushing metal and wood splintering into a million jagged pieces. Linc realized he taken a blow to his head. Something had hit him hard. He was bleeding, he thought, but the pain was already easing some. There wasn’t an inch of space and nothing he could do about it. Something held him in place. Hours later he awoke to find himself sprawled over the softest women. It took a moment before he remembered. She was that neat, little piece he’d been talking to seconds before the crash. Damn, if she didn’t smell and taste delicious. Could he be blamed for sampling a morsel of luscious woman? After all if she truly didn’t want it, wouldn’t she have stopped him?

  www.resplendencepublishing.com