The Eye of the Wolf

by Sadie Vanderveen

  He leaned against her and let one small sob echo in the air. Mikayla’s hand caressed his cheek, but she said nothing. She could have never known that her patience and presence did more to ease his heart than any trite comment ever could. “Through the wind, I could hear Victoria screaming. It took me a minute to understand her. She was screaming for Jonathan; she kept screaming his name. I made my way up to the top where I had left them, the engine puttering slowly. Victoria was wild, leaning over the edge, screaming ‘Johnny, Johnny!’ He wasn’t there. His seat was empty. We circled around in the storm for hours, even after it disappeared, looking for him, calling for him. I dove into the water at some point and did dives down looking for him.”

  Will lifted his head and watched a sea gull float on the thermals above. He could hear the waves crashing against the hull, reminding him of the loss of a brother and a friend. The loss of a brilliant future. “We never found his body. Washed away in the currents.” He looked into Mikayla’s eyes, eyes that were filled with grief. “My brother is dead, and it is my fault, Mikayla. I inherited the title that day. I inherited a country, a country I want nothing to do with other than to just call it home.”

  Mikayla pressed her lips against his cheek and gripped his hands in her own. “Will, it isn’t your fault. It was an accident; there was nothing you could have done. You have to move on now and accept the world as it is.”

  Will closed his eyes. “Easier said than done, especially when your own parents refuse to speak to you still, twelve years later. The last picture to appear of me was when I was fourteen, just before I went to Eton. I’m not even in the most recent family portrait.” He shuddered, a breath escaping. “I don’t want to be king, Mikayla, but I have no choice. This is the world I was born into. This is the world I will die in.”

  There was silence, only the clanging of the bouy filling the air. Will raised his head. A question had formed in his mind as he had sat steeped in his own world. Now, he dragged himself back into the present, back to the hot April afternoon and the warm, subtly sexy woman sitting beside him, compassion in her eyes. “Mikayla, why are you asking about this?”

  Mikayla shrugged an elegant shoulder as she broke off a hunk of bread from the crusty loaf. “Your sister reminded me.” She said it simply, not comprehending the effect it would have on him.

  “What do you mean, Victoria reminded you?” Will turned her head until they were eye to eye over her shoulder. His eyes were dark, hidden secrets in them, startling Mikayla into stuttering.

  “I…I spent the other day with her, the day before the coronation. We talked about you when we spotted you out on the water.” Will’s frown and furrowed brow had Mikayla frowning. “Is that wrong? Should I not have talked to Victoria?” Distrust caused her stomach to turn over and a sickening dread to fill her.

  Will attempted to smile, to dash the frown from his face. Now was not the time to delve into dark secrets of his family, but it bothered him that Mikayla would have spoken with his sister about him. “No, it’s not a problem. I just find it odd is all. I didn’t realize that the two of you were friendly.”

  Mikayla lustily laughed making Will grin with enjoyment. “I wouldn’t say we are friendly. We just had an accidental encounter that led to us spending most of an afternoon together.”

  “Oh?” Will pulled her closer until she was all he could think of. He brushed cool lips against the nape of her neck, enjoying the goose flesh that rose across her shoulders and arms. He set his glass aside and trailed fingers through her hair and over her shoulder. Her touch singed him. His mind shut out the warning signals that buzzed in his brain. His words were slurred as he trailed feathery kisses along her neck and jaw line. “Would this be the same afternoon that led to her accusing you of murder?”

  Mikayla closed her eyes, reveling in the glorious tingles along her neck and jaw. Nimble fingers slid the teal strap of her top off of her shoulder. She forgot the irritation that had crept into her mind and body as he skimmed his mouth over her mouth. “Yes, I followed that passageway in the cellar, which you should have told me about by the way, into the palace. I was discovered by Victoria in the King’s chamber.”

  Will mumbled something that was incoherent as the heat spread throughout his body. His brain was numb except for sudden desire for her. He cupped her breasts in his hands and caressed the skin through the silky fabric, fascinated when a small moan escaped her lips. Her head fell back, eyes closed in pure pleasure. His mouth sought hers and delved into the moment, forgetting time and place. His brain fought the numbness, circling around words that danced in his head, incoherent thoughts that fought a losing war with his loins. His hands twisted into her hair, pulling it free of its clips, losing himself into the fresh, clean scent of ocean and the heady taste of wine.

  Mikayla wondered as her hands cruised over his face, mixing in his hair, how it was possible that she should feel this intense craving for him in the middle of the afternoon, outside. She wondered how he could set her afire simply by touching her. It was inconceivable to her, beyond intellectual capacity as his hands and tongue roved over her. She lost herself to him, forgetting their conversation, forgetting the questions that had mixed in her mind, forgetting everything to the sensations that jumped across her nerves and skin.

  He cupped her chin in his hand and traced fingers along the curve of her neck, enjoying the trembles that ran down her limbs as he drowned in her. He drew back and looked into eyes dark with yearning and bruised lips that trembled with want. He smiled and leaned in to savor, slow and sweet. His mind jumped at her taste and snapped into focus, a question sudden clear, painfully clear.

  Will snapped his head back, his eyes wide. Mikayla slowly opened her eyes, wondering where he had gone, what was wrong. Longing slowly dissolved as he stared at her, suspicion written clearly on his aristocratic features as he scrutinized her face, but he seemed as if he were elsewhere.

  “Will, what is it?” Mikayla’s voice shook slightly as emotions battled one another: desire versus mistrust.

  Will leveled his eyes on hers and held her stare. His hand still cupped her chin, but there was more steel in the touch than tenderness. “You found Victoria in my grandfather’s bed chamber?” Fear and confusion and anger danced along his nerves, snapping.

  Mikayla’s mind whirled, unable to make the connections between the need that streaked through her and the sudden change to an interrogation. “Um, yeah, I found her there, next to the bed.” She paused and chewed at her lip, her eyes held by his. “She was extremely surprised to see me, but she was very friendly about it.”

  “What was she doing there, Mikayla? Did she tell you why she was there?” Will’s grip on her chin tightened causing her to wince slightly. He didn’t release his grasp. He needed to know.

  Mikayla stared into his eyes, once friendly and cheerful, now deadly with their intensity. Alarm rang in her head, yet she trusted him, she had given everything to him. “I don’t know why she was there. She never said. I just assumed that she was missing him and wanted to be where his things were.” She stumbled over her words as he released her chin and ran a hand through his hair, frustration written in every move. “I never got the chance to ask. She talks a mile a minute.”

  Will stared at the crests of the waves, frothy white against deep blue. He rubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin, stubble from not shaving in two days because of a need to protect the woman in his arms from a world she couldn’t understand. A world he didn’t understand. A world he wanted nothing to do with but had no choice. “What did the two of you talk about while you were out and about together?”

  Mikayla shrugged a shoulder, a chill coming over her. Irritation with him filled her. He had forgotten about the passion between them, making love to her again, and was focused solely on something that had happened days before. She yanked the strap back into place and rubbed her arms vigorously. She huffed out a breath. “I already told you, we talked about you.”

  Will glanced at Mikayla an
d saw the annoyance decorating her pretty features. He pressed a kiss to her temple, trying to soothe the irritation away. “I know, but what else did you talk about.” He tried for humor. “You couldn’t have possibly talked with my sister about me all of that time. After all, she doesn’t want to hear about how amazing I am in bed.”

  Mikayla smirked slightly. The image was ludicrous, she had to agree. “No, we also talked about how the research was going before everything was stolen.” Her hand was gentle as it traced the contours of his face, enjoying the aristocratic nose and fine cheekbones.

  “What specifically did she ask about, Mikayla?” Will had to know. He had to know if his sister was seeking the jewel. He had to know what interest there might be in the stone that ruled the future of the island nation.

  Mikayla chewed on her lip. She remembered the dread that had rung through her system when Victoria had asked her about her research and the Eye of the Wolf. She remembered wishing that it had been Will who had asked about her discoveries and how willing she would have been to tell him at that moment about the translation and the diary. Now, suddenly, she found herself questioning him, his motives, his interest. She found herself doubting his interest in her as being something other than simple use. She wondered again, why had he volunteered to help her? Why had he taken such interest in this one part of Amor’s history?

  She dislodged herself from his hands that had begun to sweep across her skin again, leaving heated trails. She turned her body until she faced him, straddling and paralyzing him with a gaze. With one hand, she pinched his chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing him to meet her eyes. His delighted grin at her forward move disappeared when he looked into her eyes and saw the suspicions that mingled with her emotions in her mind.

  “Before I tell you what I told Victoria, you tell me why you volunteered to help with the research.” She jerked his head back to meet her eyes when he tried to look away. “The truth, William.”

  He stared into those eyes that had once trusted him and warmed him to his very toes; now they still warmed him with desire but they also made him wary. She had him. He knew she did. She knew he hadn’t been entirely honest with her from the very beginning. He wondered what he had to lose in telling her the entire truth now. Nothing.

  Except her.

  He knew, if she knew everything, she would walk away. She would never look back. He didn’t know if he could afford that loss, more expensive than all the jewels in the world. He swallowed. He might as well just jump in, both feet, and wait for the cold shock to hit. He took a deep breath and forced the words out of his lungs. “I want to find the Eye of the Wolf, and I knew that if I helped you research the history, I would find the appropriate clues needed to find it.” He rushed on to finish what he needed to say before she moved away as he knew she was bound to do. “I never had any intention of falling for you, for even kissing you. I couldn’t stop it. You got under my skin.” There was a long, pregnant pause. Each eyeing the other, two adversaries.

  “The Eye of the Wolf has been missing for over 800 years, Mikayla. No one seemed to really miss it, until my brother discovered those same runes on the cliff-top that you discovered.”

  He stared at the endless sea. “Jonathan developed an almost obsessive interest in the Eye of the Wolf. He even took to calling himself the Wolf after King Henry.” He smiled to himself, images of an older brother flashed through his mind. “I remember he used to drag us around the island, digging places up, fancying himself some sort of an archeologist. Once, we dug up the cellar floor in an area that used to be the dungeon.”

  Mikayla was silent, listening intently to his memories, partly wondering the point behind these ramblings, and partly enjoying the gentleness of his voice, breezes tossing his hair in a mad dance.

  “Jonathan never deciphered the runes. He died before he could. He wanted to find the stone. A boy’s dream.” He frowned as the wind died away making those thoughts of pulling up anchor die too. Mikayla waited patiently.

  “I thought the interest in the stone died with Jonathan, but now there are others who seek it, Mikayla. Believe me when I say, my interest is solely based on a wish to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.” His eyes bored into her own. “I need that stone, Mikayla, and you are the only one I trust to lead me to it. I’m not smart enough to do it alone.” His eyes plead with her for understanding.

  When she didn’t jump overboard, Will dared to look at her face. The Cheshire cat couldn’t have looked more smug than she did right at that moment. Surprise danced across his features before a smile spread slowly, warmly across his face. “What are you smiling at?” He demanded.

  Mikayla leaned into him, pulling him closer, wrapping her limbs around him tighter. “I love you, Will.” Her lips rubbed across his, heating him from head to toe. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone.” She pulled him into a slow, sensuous kiss that killed them both, leaving them weak. When she pulled back, his eyes were closed and a smile graced his mouth. “She asked about the Eye of the Wolf, Will. She wanted to know if I had found it or knew where it was. I told her I didn’t. I honestly don’t think it exists now, if it ever existed. I think it was just a nice story to explain some of the strange things that happened here.”

  His eyes opened slowly, his mind numb again to the conversation. Focus was difficult. Her words danced in his head, joining with others in some sort of reel or jig. He understood her, but at that moment, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything except the words that meant the most, the words he had never heard in his life, not from his own parents, not from any other woman. The only words that mattered were those of love that had come from her full lips. He traced a hand along the curve of her cheek, reveling in the feel of her, the intensity of the love that seemed to surround them. “We’ll talk about that later.” He whispered and pulled her closer. “Right now, I have something more important to discuss.”

  Her laugh of delight danced in the air as he slipped straps off of her shoulders and gently ran hands over coconut oil scented skin.

  Kankaredes blew out a small stream of smoke into the still evening air. His eyes were focused on the faint lights burning in the darkness of the water. If someone had been watching him, they would have seen the Royal Minister looking abnormally calm. None of the frustration and malice that he felt showed on his impassive face or changed his perfect posture.

  The woman was a problem, but perhaps, with this new twist of fate, the problem would rectify itself. Dejeune’s death was a tragedy and her survival was inconvenient, but they would both work to the benefit of the Wolf. The objectives of the Wolf would be accomplished and in time for the 900th anniversary.

  He blew another stream of smoke into the air before pitching the cigarette over the wall. He turned and froze in place as the green eyes pinned him from the darkness. The hunter had returned only to find new prey waiting. Kankaredes swallowed and bowed his head. “Sire?”

  The Wolf stepped to the wall and looked out, his eyes focused on the skiff skimming over the waves in shadows. Every nerve was as taut as that of a bow, but his voice was cool, belying nothing. “I find the twist on my plan interesting, Antonio.” He smiled at Kankaredes, sharp white teeth gleaming in the dark. “I am not adverse to this change; however, she knows too much. Explain to me why Dejeune did not kill her? Why is it she lives and he is dead?

  Kankaredes lifted his head and looked out over the dark island, the tourist resorts beacons of light in the gloom. “I can’t explain, Sire. Perhaps your assassin made a mistake or Rene happened across the assassin as he was infiltrating the museum. I can’t explain since I was not there.” He looked at the blond hair blowing lightly in the wind at the top of the wall. The gilded rings of the Amor royal family winked in the torch lights on the wall on the fingers of the Wolf. “I think this will work best to our advantage, Your Royal Highness. After all, now suspicion will be pointed directly at her.”

  The Wolf inclined his head slightly in assent and lean
ed an elbow on the wall. His eyes stayed on the house in the shadows as his mind worked over the information that had come to him. “Keep an eye on her, Antonio.” His eyes flicked up, the hunter to the prey just before the kill. “Don’t let her walk away. She’s not to leave this island alive.”

  Kankaredes nodded and stepped away into the dark. His master had spoken. The plan was to go forward. They would have the kingdom in their hands before the celebration, and the American would pay dearly for the crimes of the Wolf and his followers.

  The Wolf listened to the steps of Kankaredes recede into the darkness until he was alone in the darkness. A feral smile played on his lips. Soon, everything would be as it was destined to be. He raised a hand and waved at the tourists walking along the beach, a specter in the darkness, bringing to mind the legend of King Henry’s ghost seeking vengeance on the walls of the Secluded City. The Wolf’s wicked laugh rang through the air as he walked along the ramparts in the evening wind, enjoying the power.

  Chapter 22

  A darkness has descended over the land. It is not a darkness of the sun, like the hours last summer when the sun disappeared from the sky. This is a darkness among the people. I can see it when I walk down the streets. It is in the way the people watch me. They continue to bow for me and the other members of the royal family, but in their eyes I see distrust. They watch me as they watched my father. Distrust and anger. Resentment and fear.