A tiny voice in Loupe’s head told her she should show some kindness, some sympathy. Unfortunately, Danette had not just threatened Loupe—she’d threatened Etienne. Loupe may have been willing to forgive one, but for the other… Loupe clenched her hands into fists. Danette could suffer.
The last of the sun’s rays fled the night sky. A howl spilled from Danette’s lips, the sound long and full of pain, and a shudder ran the length of her body. Loupe stepped back, grasping Etienne’s arm as she nodded for the guard to draw the curtain closed. Together she and her husband began disrobing in preparation to shift.
“We’ll herd her into the forest and keep her there until she returns to human form,” Loupe said calmly.
“And after that?”
Loupe sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
Etienne grunted, but let the subject drop. In front of them, Danette completed her change with a few last bone-crunching pops and a screeching whine. Loupe looked up at the moon and called to the wolf inside her.
The beast that had terrified her for so long rose up like an old friend, filling Loupe’s body until her bones and muscles naturally gave way to the new form. Gone was the pain the change used to bring, banished forever under the loving tutelage of her new family. Loupe no longer fought it, no longer feared it. Her wolf was a part of her and at times like this, she realized how very lucky she was.
She and Etienne finished their shifts and bolted down the wide stone staircase. The smooth rock under her paws sent a tingle up her legs and Loupe danced a bit before leaping into the lush green grass. The grey and white of Etienne’s wolf flashed a few yards away from her, a stark contrast to the yellowish-grey of Danette’s beast. Loupe snapped at her stepsister when she started to veer too far to the right, toward the village. Danette snarled and ran faster toward the trees.
A few yards beyond the treeline, a new scent slammed into Loupe’s senses. She reared up, her eyes rolling wide with panic as chaos erupted in the forest. She and Etienne both halted, lowering their bodies as close as they could to the ground and pulling their lips back to expose their teeth. Shouts and howls shattered the night air and strange shapes leapt down from tree braches and appeared from behind large trunks. Six giant shapes loomed before them.
Shock frosted Loupe’s veins. Men, large men, wearing wolfskins with the heads still attached. Their eyes practically glowed, spittle flying from their lips as they screamed and bellowed their war cries. She’d never seen them before, but she knew who they were.
Madame Tessier’s people. Berserkers. Danette had led them into a trap.
Her heart leapt into her throat as one of the figures stepped forward. This one seemed different than the others—a woman. The figure raised a spear high over her head and the moonlight glinted off her face. Her stepmother had never looked so horrifying. Clad in only the wolfskin, her eyes gone wild and her face contorted with rage, she brandished her weapon as if it was a part of her body. She screamed at Loupe and the sound whipped at Loupe’s fur, crawling into her brain and wreaking havoc. Horror blossomed inside her as she watched one of the men grab the head of a large yellowish-grey wolf and twist it violently to the side.
Danette.
A loud crack echoed like thunder in Loupe’s ears and then Danette fell to the leaves unmoving, her neck broken. That sound would haunt Loupe forever. Her stepmother didn’t even flinch as her daughter’s life ended, killed by a member of her own family. Such evil was unheard of, unreal…unacceptable. Loupe blinked, realizing she’d taken a few steps back. Etienne barked and snapped at her, a crystal clear order for her to run back to the safety of the castle.
NO!
Loupe lifted her head and howled, a smooth piercing sound that rose above the pandemonium and echoed in the branches. Then she dropped back down to the ground, keeping her eyes on the fearsome warriors as they continued to surround her and Etienne, snarling and growling all the while.
Her stepmother had told her stories. She knew that the berserkers would want to kill them with their bare hands if they could manage it, resorting to their spears only if she and Etienne tried to run. Etienne snarled, but didn’t leap. Loupe could almost sense his frustration, his desire to leap at their attackers even as he wanted to stay by her side. A growl trickled from Loupe’s throat and she tensed. Just one more moment.
Three snarls erupted behind her and a second later some of the berserkers cried out, this time in pain as three shadows leapt over Loupe and crashed into their chests. Loupe didn’t wait any longer. She dove for her stepmother and closed her jaws around her wrist as tightly as she could. Madame Tessier shrieked, but kept moving, seeming oblivious to the pain. Loupe shook her head, doing as much damage as she could. Her stepmother raked her fingers down Loupe’s face and Loupe released her just enough to pull back and keep the woman from gouging her eyes.
Madame Tessier grasped the spear with her other hand and stabbed at Loupe. Loupe dove out of the way, then leapt back in to sink her teeth into the woman’s thigh. Digging for her femoral artery, Loupe didn’t stop even when a rush of hot blood filled her mouth. She clenched her jaw tighter, sinking her fangs down until they scraped along bone. Pain seared her back and sides, but she ignored it, thrusting her entire body forward to throw her stepmother off balance.
The woman crashed to the forest floor, still snarling and snapping her human jaws in a blind rage. Loupe leapt on top of her, snarling in her face as she dug into her stomach with her curved black claws. The scent of blood and filth filled the air along with her stepmother’s rabid snarling. Loupe kept going, ferociously digging for the ground underneath the woman who’d worked so hard to kill her and everything she loved.
It seemed like forever until a soft whine pierced the fog of rage clouding her mind. Loupe stopped digging and backed up. Her chest burned with the need for air and her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she breathed heavily. Her stepmother lay in ruins around her, the center of her body nothing but a red mass of torn flesh and ravaged organs.
Gentle nudges all over her body brought her attention around and Loupe snuffled at the wolf pups. A few months had seen their tiny little bodies grow large until now they were nearly as big as Loupe. Their eyes still lit up every time they saw her and Loupe nuzzled them as they licked the blood from her face and back. She returned the favor and soon Etienne joined in. They stood there amidst the carnage and cleaned one another, banishing the evidence of the night’s violence.
Finally, Loupe barked and trotted off into the trees, leaving the battlefield behind. When the scent of blood was no longer as strong, Etienne shifted beside her. As soon as his human vocal cords formed, he erupted.
“I told you to go back to the palace!” he shouted, shoving a hand through his hair and pacing. “You could have been killed. What the bloody hell were those people anyway? They were wearing wolf skins, going into battle stark naked. And wasn’t that Madame Tessier? What the bloody hell—”
“Who are my good boys?” Loupe cooed after she completed her change. She turned her back on Etienne and fell to her knees by the pups. They leapt about, nearly knocking her back onto the ground, and she laughed. “Yes you are. You are all my brave, fearsome boys!”
“Loupe, are you listening to me? I am your husband, it is my job to protect you. I cannot do that, if you insist on ignoring me and engaging some madwoman—”
“You know what, my darlings?” Loupe continued loudly, still looking at the pups. “I almost didn’t call for you. I love you so much, it would destroy me if anything happened to you. But,” she said clearly, “then I realized that trying to protect you from all danger would only keep you weak. I would much rather you grow to be big, strong, confident wolves. And I never want you to be afraid. Of anyone.”
There was a long pause as she continued to ruffle the pups’ fur and make baby noises at them. Finally, Etienne knelt beside her and sighed.
“I’m an adult, you know,” he muttered. “You could have just said that to me.”
Loupe raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say anything. He drew her into his arms and she folded willingly, cuddling against his naked chest.
After a few long minutes, the levity of the moment faded. The weight of what had just happened slowly settled on Loupe’s shoulders and a shiver ran down her spine. Images of Danette, her wolfish body limp after having her neck savagely broken by her own family, danced across her mind in a macabre parade. All this time she’d believed her stepmother hadn’t loved her because she wasn’t her own blood. Now she wondered if the woman had been capable of love at all.
“Are you all right?” Etienne asked quietly.
Loupe nuzzled his skin, taking comfort from being close to him. The pups crowded around them, nearly smothering them in a press of fur. She smiled and scratched behind the ears of the closest one.
“Yes,” she answered finally. She looked around at her family, wolf and lycanthrope alike. “I am okay.”
“Good. We’d better head back home. Someone’s bound to have heard that racket and we probably don’t have much time before father sends the guard out after us.”
They started to walk back through the woods and the wolves bounced around their legs as they went, frolicking like they were still puppies. A tinge of sadness tugged at Loupe’s heart. “Etienne?”
“Yes?” He growled and swatted as one of the wolves almost knocked him over.
“I want more puppies.”
Etienne froze, his jaw dropping as he stared at her. One of the wolves caught him off guard and a well-timed leg bump sent them both crashing to the grass.
Loupe shrugged and kept walking as Etienne sputtered on the ground. “We’ll talk later, then?”
Epilogue
Eurydice sighed into the night air as she stretched, raising her arms to the moon. It wasn’t the brilliant fullness it had been a few nights ago, but it was still full enough that the forest was lit in a beautiful silvery glow. A gorgeous night and one of the five princes mated and happy. Things were going smoothly.
“I was brilliant,” a little voice chirped.
The rustle of branches filled the air and Eurydice stifled a groan. As grateful as she was for the little fey’s help, there was something to be said for creatures who didn’t feel the pressing need to fill any length of silence with a steady stream of chatter. She plastered a smile on her face just in time to greet her visitor.
“I dressed her for the ball, gave her my own horse, and the prince owes me a favor! A favor from a prince, how do you like that? Speaking of princes, frankly, I think you could have done a better job picking yours. I mean, Prince Etienne is going to eat that vampire. And I’m pretty sure the angel wants to smite the demon. And what is that god—”
“Oh, for the love of the Great Goddess, are you ever silent?” Eurydice moaned, rubbing her temples.
Loeg flew up to hover in front of her, a scowl on his tiny face. “Is that any way to talk to the pixie who saved the day? Who’s the one who got Loupe to that ball, hmmm? And who put her foot back on, that was a stroke of genius on my part! And—”
“And who gave you the wand and told you what to do?” Eurydice asked, raising an eyebrow. “You are a kind-hearted and marvelous creature, Loeg, but a touch of humility wouldn’t go am—” Something caught her eye and she glanced down at the pixie’s clothing. She frowned. “Are you wearing wolf fur?”
The pixie straightened his spine, and beamed at her. “Yes I am. Don’t I look fierce? I scared the daylights out of a bird this morning.”
Eurydice paused, waiting for him to give some sign that he was joking. The pixie just met her gaze with his own steady blue one. Waiting.
“He’s not joking,” came a gravelly voice from somewhere above her.
Eurydice looked up into her branches. A hint of dark grey broke the lines of rich brown and tufts of vibrant green. She smiled at the stony countenance peering at her from the leaves. “You came.”
The little gargoyle nodded.
“And you’ll help me?”
Another nod.
“Bless you.”
“He won’t be as much help as I was,” Loeg broke in. “I’d like to see him put a foot back on a woman. Not easy, not easy at all. Especially with her thrashing about in the middle of the change.” The pixie somersaulted in the air, his arms and legs gyrating as he mimicked what he thought Loupe’s change had looked like. Having seen a loup garou change before, Eurydice wasn’t impressed with his imitation. Still, the little one had done her a great service.
“You were a wonderful help, Loeg, and I thank you from my roots to my leaves,” she said graciously.
The pixie straightened up and preened, smoothing a hand over his wolf skin. “You were right to come to me.”
“I’m going to leave now, if that’s all right,” the gargoyle spoke up.
Surprise trickled over Eurydice as the gargoyle leapt down from its branch. She hadn’t realized exactly how heavy the little creature was until her branch sprang back into place.
Eurydice glanced off in the direction of Prince Kirill’s castle. “I’m afraid he won’t be easy.”
The gargoyle circled around briefly and a sigh drifted down on the breeze. “Vampires never are.”
THE END
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Other Books by Jennifer Blackstream
Under His Skin
Aphrodite’s Hunt
Blood Prince Series
Before Midnight
One Bite
Golden Stair
The Revenge in Vein Series:
Burned
Mastered
Bitten
Converted
Revenge in Vein: The Complete Series
Preview of ONE BITE, book two in the Blood Prince series
Chapter 1
“A collection of blood. How…disgusting.”
Irina wrinkled her nose at the bitter, coppery scent and replaced the cork on the vial she’d taken from one of the many racks in the secret wall cabinet. She put it back among the neatly labeled glass tubes, each one bearing a name and a species.
“I don’t want to know how she got all of this,” Irina muttered. Crossing her arms, she glared at the cabinet, searching each container for any sign of her name. There. She plucked the vial of her blood off the rack and stalked to the window.
As she threw open the sash, a gust of frigid winter wind swept into the room. She gritted her teeth as papers flew off the giant oak table behind her and glasses rattled precariously. Popping the cork, she tilted the vial and watched with satisfaction as her blood poured out into the snow on the window sill.
“No more Irina blood for you.” She slammed the window shut and whirled around. The sight of the papers scattered all over the floor made her roll her eyes, but for now she turned her attention to finding a liquid to replace her blood in the tiny ampoule.
Her stepmother’s study loomed around her. Bookcases stretched hundreds of feet up the magically enhanced walls, each one filled to bursting with texts that hummed with power. The sorceress’s giant alchemist’s table was strewn with enough beakers and colored glass bottles that it should have made even the heavy wooden legs of oak collapse under the weight. Candles of every shape, size, and color burned merrily despite the blast of cold air she’d so recently unleashed on them. Irina resisted the urge to kick an intricate copper stand holding a large, maroon pillar candle to the floor. It would serve the sorceress right if she just burned the whole palace down.
“I used a lot of blood to make that candle and I’ll be very cross with you if you kick it over.”
Irina spun around. Her stepmother, Serafina
Shevchenko, stood in the doorway to her study, bright black eyes shining in amusement as she contemplated Irina. The green gown she wore was ringed at the sleeves and hem with pure white fur and her collar rose ridiculously high so that it framed her entire head. She filled up much more of the doorway than she should have and for the hundredth time, Irina wondered if the sorceress was using magic to appear more intimidating than she was.
If she is, it’s a waste of magic.
“You’re snooping around my study again, child. I thought we’d discussed that?”
Before Midnight (Book 1) (Blood Prince Series) Page 16
