The Wolf Lord (Ars Numina Book 3)

by Ann Aguirre

  “You’re trembling. Are you cold?”

  “How could I be, with such a hot little bundle beside me?” He thought he sounded fine, should be enough to get her to go back to sleep.

  It wasn’t.

  “Bad dream?” she guessed, with an acuity that was as impressive as it was intrusive.

  His first instinct was to snap, as wolves did when unfamiliar hands went after their sore spots, but then he remembered how she’d told him about her mother, poisoned by her father’s mistress. That couldn’t have been an easy thing to share, but she’d trusted him with it, long before she curled into his arms. Such candor was a rare sort of courage, an example he should follow.

  “You want to hear about my long, dark night of the soul?” he asked quietly. “It’s not in our contract.”

  “That’s a baseline agreement, as in, this is the minimum we will do for one another. There’s no reason we can’t give more, if desired.”

  “What a long, roundabout way to say, ‘Yes, Raff, I want to hear your story’.”

  She curled into him, sliding one thigh over his and rested her head on his chest. “I want to listen, Raff.”

  “Better. I like things straightforward.” He closed his eyes, aware that he was about to tell a story that most of the pack knew, but he’d never really spoken about before. “If things were different, you might have married my older brother, you know.”

  A jolt of surprise went through her; he felt it. “You have a brother?”

  “Not anymore. Which is too bad because he was brilliant, years of training and so many incredible ideas. Pine Ridge lost a lot when he died.”

  “You feel responsible.” It wasn’t a question.

  Thalia opened her palm on Raff’s chest, clearly an attempt to comfort him. Some of the horrors of the dream faded, leaving him more grounded. He covered her fingers with his and tried to keep it together. It was one thing to confide in her, another to break down.

  “No denying that. He was trying to save me from a beating and paid the ultimate price for that interference.”

  “Your father didn’t have him…” She trailed off like she couldn’t even ask the question.

  “Executed? No. Officially his death was an accident, but if I hadn’t tried to run, it wouldn’t have happened.” Now that he was talking, it was easier than he’d expected, as if this was a dam that badly needed breaking.

  Under the cover of darkness, Raff told her everything—how his mother had died in childbirth and his father hated him irrationally, so that nothing he ever did was good enough. About Evert, who was always his shield, until that terrible night when he wrestled with their father like gods of old, and how in the end, the whole pack paid the price.

  “My father was never…right, afterward. He kept it together long enough to install Korin as my second, but that was the last sane decision he ever made.”

  “Grief drove him to madness,” she said softly. “Where is he now?”

  “Safely confined in Pine Ridge. Are you shocked?”

  “I’d be lying if I said no, but mostly, I feel sad. Because like me, you never knew your mother, and like me, you never had your father’s love.”

  Astonishment flared in him, bright as a match kindled in absolute darkness. “Are you saying we’re two of a kind?”

  “Maybe I am. Of the two of us, I think you’ve had the better outcome.”

  “Why do you say that, my good wife?”

  “Because you had a brother who loved you so much that he was trying to protect you to his last breath…and even though he’s currently lost, there’s still a chance your father could come back to you.”

  His chest hurt with the unexpected sweetness of her words and their undeniable truth chipped away at the awful residue the nightmare had left behind. “Mm, well, I do concede that I’m a lucky devil, not just for those reasons.”

  “Why, then?”

  With gentle reverence, he kissed her temple. “Because I married you.”

  17.

  In the morning, Thalia woke hungry.

  Nothing had been solved, so she shouldn’t feel so serene, but she couldn’t muster sufficient ambition to haul herself out of bed. The room held a fearful chill, as the fire had died at some point during the night, so she was wrapped around Raff like he was the flame that could keep her alive.

  Getting out of bed would be torture.

  Still, even knowing that didn’t stifle her whimper at the cold shock against her bare skin. She scrambled into her torn and filthy clothes, for once missing the luxuries she’d enjoyed during her confinement at Riverwind. There in her gilded cage, she’d had heated floors and an endless supply of hot water.

  “You’re so eager to leave,” Raff mumbled.

  Layering up only helped so much. Thalia’s hands were so cold that the joints hurt. It had been such a long winter; this should be that last hurrah of ice and snow, yielding to spring and warmer weather. She tried to imagine the dead ground coming back to life as she went to the window, but found it impossible to superimpose verdant growth atop the white field and the icicles dripping from the trees.

  It was just warm enough that they were melting, slowly. That would make it dangerous to pass through the woods. People always told gruesome stories of those who died with ice spikes in their eyes.

  “I should call Ferith,” she said.

  They had to be worried at Daruvar, search parties combing the woods. Last night there had been no signal, but before she could touch the screen, Raff snatched her phone. He didn’t seem to feel the cold as much because he was completely naked, paying no mind to the frigid air or his bare skin. In the full daylight, she could appreciate his raw strength, musculature quite unlike the more delicate Eldritch build.

  Don’t get distracted.

  “What are you doing?” she snapped.

  “Let’s take a minute to think about this,” he said. “We’ve been given a chance here. If they think you’re dead, it may flush out the traitor.”

  Thalia paused. That was…coldblooded and strategically brilliant. She hadn’t set out to fake her own death, but with everything that had happened, she’d be a fool not to exploit this opportunity. But that didn’t mean playing the leader of the Noxblades.

  “You suspect Ferith can’t be trusted?” she asked at last.

  “I’m not saying that. Look, I don’t know any of your people well enough to say. But if you make contact, the channel may not be secure, and even if she doesn’t spill, her reaction might give the game away. It just seems like it’s safer to keep this between us for now.”

  “I see your point, but…how do you envision the two of us handling a conspiracy on this scale?”

  Raff made a face that she couldn’t interpret. “I don’t have it all worked out yet, but the first order of business is tracking the rogue Eldritch who were working with the ones that tried to off us in the tunnel. They had the stink of camphor on them, not a lot, just a little, but if the others do too, I can hunt them down.”

  Thalia nodded. Never could she have imagined how helpful it would be to partner up with a wolf. In the woods, Raff would be relentless; it would take a miracle for their quarry to elude them.

  “All right, I’m in. I’ll hold off calling Ferith for now.” She pulled on her coat and geared up as best she could, though her outerwear was sadly insufficient for the weather. “What should we do if the numbers are too great?”

  Raff only grinned. “Unless they’ve got a CTAK, don’t worry about it, princess. You’ve got me with you, after all.”

  That should’ve sounded like pure bravado, but she had seen him fight. “Leave one alive for questioning, if possible.”

  “No promises, but I’ll try. Guess there’s no point in getting dressed, then. Will you take my stuff?”

  “Of course.”

  As she gathered his belongings and stuffed them in her pack, he shifted from man to wolf, a process that never stopped fascinating her. She wondered how it felt, if it hurt.


  This plan was…well, reckless. Thalia acknowledged as much as she followed the black wolf out of the cabin. Normally, she didn’t do battle without considering all potential outcomes first, running various simulations and weighing all factors. Now, because a roguish wolf said, “Trust me”, she was setting out on what might be a suicide mission.

  I’m okay with that.

  He set a pace she could match, though he occasionally raced off to check something and then he circled back, surefooted on the icy ground. Their path led away from Daruvar, west of the tunnel—she thought—but it was hard to be sure. She had far more experience tracking a target using technology, watching signals on a screen and giving orders to troops via wireless. At Ash Valley, that was the first time she’d fought like a soldier, shooting from the walls. Since then, her combat experience had really ramped up.

  Unsurprisingly Raff noticed the change before she did. Mostly Thalia kept a close eye on him and reflected on how cold and miserable she was. In all her elaborate rise-to-power fantasies back at Riverwind, she’d never realized leadership could be so uncomfortable. When the black wolf stilled, she did too.

  Listening.

  Then she understood. There were no noises at all, not a peep from the other creatures of the forest. Before, a few winter birds hopped about, chirping overhead, and squirrels chattered as they gathered nuts. Now, it was all silence.

  That means there are enemies close, in numbers large enough to alarm the wildlife.

  Raff glanced up at her; she was getting better at reading his canine expressions. The head cock seemed to be interrogative. In answer, she raised a finger to her lips and held it there as a sign that she understood that she needed to keep quiet.

  The black wolf nodded, then picked a silent path across the ice. Dark branches snatched at her clothing, but Thalia did her best to leave no trace. While she hadn’t completed Noxblade training, she had enough stealth that she shouldn’t give them away before they were ready to attack.

  She heard the voices and smelled the smoke around the same time. Looks like they made camp. Drawing in a long breath, she calmed herself as she drew her blades. It would’ve been nice if she could’ve recharged her bracers, but they were at half power, good for five more shots each. Dropping into a crouch, she stayed close to Raff, moving as he moved.

  Easier said than done since he was on four legs and she had two.

  Until this moment, she’d never wished she could shift, but the more time she spent with the Animari, the more she found to admire. Thalia could see herself as a sleek silver fox, perhaps, or an ice wolf—

  They broke from cover silently, cutting her train of thought. Swiftly she counted eight adversaries, all Eldritch. They were bivouacked well, a fine fire burning, and their white thermal tents blended in with the environment. From the smell, they were roasting vegetables in the fire, like this was a fucking school trip.

  “Haven’t heard back from Ruark yet,” one of them said.

  “Nothing from Penn and Maris, either. You think something went wrong?”

  “We have our orders. You don’t get paid extra to fret, do you? Just sit tight. The Talfayen bitch will be dead one way or another, soon enough.”

  Raff snapped.

  In an instant, he lunged at the nearest scout, knocking him to the ground. Rage was his fuel, and he had plenty to burn. He had been tolerant and patient for too long. Finally, he had a chance to show these assholes a little Pine Ridge style. As the rest scrambled for cover, he bit down on the Eldritch’s skull, glorying in the crunch of bone. Blood trickled into his mouth; he sprang away as bullets peppered the ground, dodging behind a tree.

  The others armored up and grabbed their weapons, scattering at a bolt of Thalia’s lightning. She missed her first shot, left the trunk charred and smoking. I don’t need to worry about her. Time for a killer fucking game of hide and seek.

  Raff rushed, skidding on the icy ground, toward the Eldritch to the left. Rebounding off the tree, he pounced on the scout and used the momentum to drag him across the ground, digging his claws into the enemy’s gut. The fallen scout slashed with a knife and Raff bit down, until he tasted more Eldritch blood and the blade slipped from the bastard’s hands. Bullets whizzed past, most slammed into the trees behind, but one grazed his flank. Crimson stained the white ground, his and the Eldritch whose arm he’d almost bitten off.

  “Raff, behind you!” Thalia called.

  Bolts of lightning shot from Thalia’s bracers, a beautiful blue arc that slammed into the one taking aim. The Eldritch shuddered from the volts and smoke swirled around his corpse as it fell. She laid down cover fire, giving him the space to charge, where three of them had clustered in the same tangle of icy brush. He tore the throat out of one before the female could get her knife up, and he spat out the taste of her wine-sweet blood.

  Two of them were backing away, poised to run; that couldn’t happen. If a single one made it out to report that Thalia was alive, their entire plan, flimsy as it was, would fall to shit. When the first broke and tried to run, Raff hamstrung him with a vicious bite. Thalia took the other with a shot to the back, lightning cycling over the corpse in bright sparks.

  The surviving scouts sprayed bullets, filling the clearing with the stink of cordite. A couple stray ones hit the mark, one in his rear flank, the other in his side.

  Raff snarled and let pain-adrenaline drive him to greater fury. He snatched up the nearest Eldritch, closed his jaws on his thigh, and used him as a shield while the other two filled him with bullets. As they ran out of ammo and scrambled to reload, he flung the Eldritch shield away and dove for the one on the right and ripped his chest open, not stopping until entrails unspooled like a slick and bloody rope and steam rose from where the hot mess hit the frosty ground.

  Two left—one male, one female.

  The male Eldritch took aim at him, and Raff held, ignoring the pain. Because he saw Thalia, silently signaling with her eyes. Don’t move. She struck from the shadows, slamming both of her knives into the traitor’s temples. This woman is glorious. In a graceful motion, she pulled her blades free and swiped them clean on the ground. Raff offered a nod before turning toward the last one standing. She’d apparently decided there was no point in trying to flee.

  “None of us will ever talk,” the woman said with a sneer. “Lord Gilbraith has eyes everywhere and—”

  Thalia ended the budding monologue with a final shot from her sputtering bracer. The power light flickered and died; that must mean she was out of juice. On the ground, one of the Eldritch was still squirming, rolling and screaming as blood gushed from his mangled arm. Raff loped over and growled, an unmistakable warning.

  Thalia joined him, staring at the survivor with a grim expression. “Good, you left one capable of talking. Now then, let’s ask our new friend some questions.”

  “Ruark Gilbraith is the one true king. Burn in hell, pretender!”

  Raff got the feeling the asshole would have spat, but he didn’t have the breath. His color suggested that he was going into shock. Between blood loss and cold, it would be surprising if he survived long enough for a lengthy interrogation. He’d already confirmed one fact without meaning to—he most likely came from House Gilbraith, as it seemed unlikely that a spy from another demesne would be so fanatically loyal to a mere ally.

  “Who is the agent hidden in my hold? Tell me what you know, or things will get worse.” Her voice was so calm and gentle that Raff almost didn’t discern the threat at first.

  “Like…hell,” the scout gurgled.

  His jaw clenched then, but blood bubbled at the corners of his mouth, swiftly followed by white foam. He convulsed in a torturous arc, limbs twisting in one of the most spectacularly painful deaths Raff had ever witnessed. Bastard suicided to keep us from learning anything else. The froth smelled faintly familiar, one of the poisons that had killed Lileth at their wedding feast.

  Thalia swore. “It seems he was afraid of my methods. I might’ve gotten a name, given tim
e.” Then she seemed to notice his condition, crouching with worried eyes. “How bad is it? I can see that you’re hurt, but I can’t tell if it’s serious.”

  I’ve been shot in the leg I broke in the tunnel, got another bullet in my side and a bleeding shoulder from the grazing shot.

  If he shifted to tell her that, it would be harder to get back to the cabin. That was their best hope. They couldn’t stay here in case the other houses sent reinforcements, and he was in no shape to make the trek back to Daruvar. Time and food would probably be enough to patch him up enough to get there under his own steam. His recovery period would also reinforce the traitor’s conviction that Thalia was gone for good…and that conviction would be enough rope to hang himself.

  “What should I do?” she was asking.

  Thalia wrung her hands, tears standing in her eyes—well, that felt pretty good. There was no sign of her customary poise, and it didn’t seem like she had her planning cap on either. His blood on her hands as she checked his wounds had evidently disconnected some key wires in her brain.

  Looks like I’m in charge right now.

  He padded over to inspect the supplies their enemies had left—nuts, dried fruit and protein bars. The only fresh food was wrapped in foil and had been placed in the fire to roast, now despoiled with spattered blood. Raff pawed the packs, telling her with his eyes to gather up anything useful. She caught on swiftly and loaded up on food and first aid items, then he limped out of the clearing, back toward the cabin.

  Oddly, she didn’t question their direction. This wasn’t the way to Daruvar, though maybe she didn’t realize. She just followed, carrying everything he couldn’t. It was getting harder to breathe, which meant the bullet inside him was doing bad things to his innards. Thalia probably wouldn’t like it when he shifted and asked her to perform surgery.

  Just keep moving. We’re almost there.

  The blood trail he was dropping was a fucking mess, but the wounds coagulated or froze at some point. It was so fucking cold, colder than it should be. The trees looked dark and strange too, stretching and shrinking around him when he blinked. Guess I’ve lost more blood than I realized. He held on because Thalia was behind him, and he didn’t think she could find shelter on her own. Raff understood too that she wouldn’t leave him to find help. Whether they lived or died out here, they’d do it together.