Authors: Colleen Gleason
Robert drew in a deep breath. “The curse was wrought by a Mage, and Mages are ruled by the Shadow Wizard. The Shadow Wizard can lift the curse. I will call upon him.”
Silence descended over the pack. Then Melanie spoke, her voice quavering. “What if he refuses to help you?”
Robert glanced at her, feeling ancient and sad. “Whatever it takes,” he vowed, “I will keep us together and safe, and our pack strong, and the land fertile once more.”
It was a promise he intended to keep.
And never break.
***
Clink, clink
.
Chains rattled as she moved on the cold marble floor to try to get into a more comfortable position. Her bones ached and her body hurt from sitting so long. Aurora Seville tried to make little noise as she stretched out her legs, the manacles encircling her bare ankles, cold and hard. Her throat felt dry and scratchy and she needed water. The wizard sitting to her right upon a hard wood chair did not notice.
He was too absorbed in reading a book.
She had been in the Shadow Wizard’s castle in the Pacific Northwest for three days after he enslaved her. Three days after Cadeyrn had turned her parents into piles of ash and dragged Emily away, kicking and screaming to live with new foster parents far away from Aurora.
“Aurora, please! Don’t let him take me, please!”
Her little sister’s screams echoed through her mind. Aurora’s palms grew clammy and she clenched her fists, wishing she had the strength to break the chains and flee.
But then where would she go? Cadeyrn’s castle was high in the mountains. She had no idea where Emily now lived.
Cadeyrn slammed the book shut and she tried not to shudder in fear as he pinned his hard, cold gaze on her. Her throat was so dry, so very dry. Dizzy from thirst, she struggled to stay conscious. She must keep surviving, for Emily’s sake.
She lifted a hand and pointed to the sideboard where a silver platter piled with succulent strawberries, grapes and pears sat next to a stone pitcher.
“Water,” she gasped. “Please.”
The wizard gave her a scornful look and strode off, ignoring her.
Aurora sagged against the wall. She had gone more than a full day without water, after the wizard had moved her from the dungeon to this chamber. She didn’t know how much more she could endure.
A loud pounding echoed through the hallway. She turned her head, barely able to summon the strength, and watched as the massive double oak doors opened. A stranger walked inside, a daring one who hadn’t bothered to wait for the wizard to admit him.
A very striking stranger. His looks, and the manner in which he carried himself, aloof and supremely confident, made her pay attention. This stranger walked into the Shadow Wizard’s private quarters as if he belonged, and didn’t care what anyone thought.
He wore a long, black robe with a cowl, traditional ceremonial wear among Others known as Lupines. The werewolves. They were judged by Tristan, the Silver Wizard. Why then was a Lupine here in Cadeyrn’s home?
He had black hair, dark as a raven’s wing. With his lean, athletic body and carved cheekbones, he was quite handsome. And young, for he looked only a few years older than her.
For the first time since her captivity, curiosity pricked her.
“Cadeyrn! Cadeyrn, where the hell are you?” the stranger shouted.
No answer.
The stranger noticed her and squatted down, a frown denting the space between his dark eyebrows. His nearness and the powerful tendrils of scent he wove around her, sandalwood and cedar, made her tremble. He smelled exotic, the cedar reminding her of the forest she loved. And though his carriage was proud and strong and his manner brisk, his eyes were kind.
“What are you doing here, little one?”
Aurora did not reply. If she told the truth, the wizard might find a reason to punish her and being chained to the wall was punishment enough.
“Where is he?” the stranger asked.
She shrugged.
The man went to the side table holding the pitcher. He poured himself a glass of water. Mouth parched, she licked her lips, longing for a single sip. A whimper arose in her dry throat.
“Please,” she whispered. “Water.”
The stranger glanced at her and his expression hardened. For a moment she feared him more than the wizard.
Then the man did the most extraordinary thing. Carrying the glass, he walked over to her and squatted down.
“Drink.”
Chains rattled as she adjusted her position and then lifted her hands to clutch the glass. Aurora drank deeply, knowing any minute the Shadow Wizard could return. He might snatch the glass away. Or not. She never knew what to anticipate.
The man kept studying her. His expression remained tight.
“Who are you?”
She finished drinking and handed back the glass. Finally, she found her voice. “Someone who thanks you for your compassion, sir.”
He ran a hand across his nape.
“That bastard. I will never understand his motives,” the man muttered. He looked at her, and anger tightened his expression. “You’re just a baby. How old are you? Twelve?”
She managed a smile, for today she felt a hundred years old. “Fourteen.” She lifted her manacled right hand, rattling the chains. “I’m Aurora.”
He shook her hand. “Robert.”
“Nice to meet you,” she murmured. “How old are you?”
The Lupine’s mouth quirked, as if he wanted to smile. “Nineteen.”
“You’re just a baby, too.”
Robert laughed. She liked the way he looked at her, as if she mattered.
He sat beside her and picked up a length of chain. “How cruel. I thought the bastard was cruel when he refused to help me three days ago. He will not lift the curse. He told me to go to Tristan, the Silver Wizard, and to get the hell out of his castle.”
“And you came back?” She marveled at his courage.
“I have no choice. I have to save my pack. ” Robert dropped the chain and gave a bitter laugh. “I’ve been back every day since. Finally yesterday, he gave some cryptic message. Something about a woman marked by the dragon. She can lift the curse and save my people.”
He looked at the ceiling and his mouth tightened. “I need answers, damn it, not riddles!”
Robert looked at her. A depth of sorrow entered his gaze, so gripping that Aurora’s breath caught. She knew this pain, the kind that wrapped razor wire around your heart and squeezed until you gasped and gasped, as you sobbed and just wanted to die.
Until you wanted it all to end and yet you could not stop crying, until there were no more tears left, and all you had inside was an empty, dried husk where a heart once beat with strength and love.
He looked at her and touched her cheek, rubbing his calloused thumb over her skin. The contact felt comforting, for it had been far too long since an adult had touched her with even a glimmer of compassion. Her parents had never embraced her or shown much affection.
“Why are you in chains?” he asked.
His own confidence fed her strength. “Cadeyrn captured me a few days ago and enslaved me.”
His gaze sharpened. “Why?”
Aurora’s shoulders slumped. “Something my parents did.”
A deep growl rumbled in his throat and Aurora drew back. “And he chose to enslave you for their sin? No one deserves to be a slave. I should free you.”
Aurora felt a tug of hope. Even before she’d been enslaved, no one had championed her. No one had noticed her, nor cared. The stranger was kind, and Lupines were strong. If anyone could spirit her away from the Shadow Wizard’s reach, it was him.
He reached for the chains binding her to the wall and gave a sharp tug. Nothing.
“The chains are magick,” she whispered, feeling despair tighten her throat.
His hand dropped to his side. He looked helplessly at her. “I’m sorry. I can’t risk it.”
Sharp disappointment, and then resignation, filled her. “It’s all right. I don’t want him angry at you for doing a kindness for a stranger.”
Cadeyrn would be furious. His wrath was not the thunder nor noise of the wizards who ruled over Others. The Shadow Wizard’s fury was silent, gray smoke squeezing around your neck, until you begged for air.
“I would do it.” He dragged in a deep breath and she sensed his inner torment. “But my people come first. I must save them. My pack, they’re dying. They’re all dying. I have to help them. The babies… they just fell asleep and never woke up. I have to hold them all together. It’s my fault.”
Such a heavy weight, and he was so young. For the first time since she’d been captured by the Shadow Wizard, Aurora felt sympathy for someone other than herself.
The Lupine lifted his face to the ceiling and howled. She winced at the haunting loneliness in his cry.
A familiar, deep voice thundered through the marble hallway.
“Robert! Stop that infernal racket. Come here to the terrace. Now!”
“Knew that would get his attention,” Robert muttered.
Her would-be savior stood, looking down at her for a minute. Then he touched his hand to her head and murmured, “Be strong and believe you can get through this.”
Aurora sensed he almost said the words to encourage himself, not her. Yet they fed her strength, as the water he’d provided had quenched her thirst.
One day at a time. She would make it. As Aurora watched the stranger walk away, she memorized every inch of his lean, muscled body.
Robert. She would never forget the name, nor the brief display of kindness he’d shown her. Maybe one day they would meet again.
With a bitter sigh, she leaned back against the wall, then lifted her left hand to wipe away a tear.
The tear slid down her finger, past her palm, lingering for a moment on the odd-shaped birthmark on her wrist.
It always reminded her of a dragon…
Ruthless. Dispassionate. An alpha wolf with a reputation for cunning. And now, Aurora’s master.
He sat behind a polished desk as large as a dining table. Eyes as dark as the sleek mahogany desktop regarded her with cool assessment.
He had not indicated he recognized her from the Shadow Wizard’s palace fifteen years ago. The man acted like a stranger, as if they had never met. He might as well be a stranger, for now he owned her.
She wondered if this master would be cruel and beat her with an iron rod, like the witch had. Or greedy, like the troll who wanted her to polish his silver each night. Or kind like her last master, an ogre who’d sometimes shared scraps of crispy pumpkin bread, fresh from the oven, with golden butter drizzled over the sides. Then again, this one called Robert was a wolf, and wolves preferred hunting and meat.
And sex. The concept made her shiver. She knew why she was here, what this wolf wanted with her.
Lupine. Aurora silently corrected herself. They were called Lupines. Others, who hid within the world of humans, or Skins, as Others called them.
She did not move, but kept her hands clasped, her body rigid at attention, her gaze fixated on the harsh angles and planes of his face, the silver threaded liberally through his thick raven hair, the hint of bristles at his jawline. Despite the graying hair, his face was unlined and he looked no older than thirty.
Aurora did not look down, even if he was her new master and held all the power in his pack. She had her dignity, and the remaining shreds of her pride.
He picked up a paper, scanned it, set it down. “Aurora Seville. You are mine now, so this document says.”
It was a paper, and papers could be burned. What could not be burned lay against her neck. The diamond-patterned collar encircled her throat more tightly than a hangman’s noose. It held her powers at bay, turned her from an Other who could spit fire from her fingertips into an ordinary woman.
Not so ordinary. She had her wits, and her seeker abilities. But how useful was the ability to hunt dragons when one was enslaved?
Robert leaned forward. “You are extremely quiet. Have you no questions?”
His deep voice was like dark chocolate with a hint of ice. The low timbre carried a note of pure arrogance. Dozens of questions flashed through her mind. Only one of them truly mattered, however, and he would not answer it.
Her life was spread out before him on that sleek desktop: twenty-nine years of breathing, eating, sleeping. Fifteen of those years spent as a slave, when the Shadow Wizard had discovered that her parents had killed a colony of Mages under his special protection. Cadeyrn had vaporized her parents. Since Aurora was only fourteen at the time, he merely enslaved her.
Some days she wished he’d turned her into ash as well.
It was a lavish office, with richly paneled walls and a gleaming hardwood floor. On a pillow the size of a truck tire rested a black labrador. The dog’s ears pricked at the sound of his master’s voice each time Robert spoke.
The dog looked comfortable, his bed far more lush than the barn floor where Aurora had slept for the past two nights. Robert had handed her over to Guy, his beta, who had assigned her to a pack female named Melanie. Guy had told Melanie to find a room for Aurora in the women’s sleeping quarters. The disdainful Melanie told her the pack had a wedding to attend and Aurora needed to stay out of sight. She had given her a blanket for a bed, some bread to eat and then locked her inside a remote, abandoned barn with piles of dusty hay. The hay had made her sneeze and itch, but the place had a working bathroom and running water.
Aurora never took water for granted anymore.
She wondered if Robert would continue to pass her around like a dinner plate laden with food. Her stomach rumbled slightly, reminding her that she’d eaten nothing but bread since her arrival. After being freed from the barn by Melanie, she’d been ordered to clean herself up and then report to the alpha’s home office promptly at noon.
There were two offices, it seemed. This one for pack business and the other public office in the large concrete building out front, beyond the iron gates. She doubted the Lupine ever invited Skins here to the small one. This office, in the vast lodge that housed several pack members, hinted of magick and mystery.
“No questions.” Robert folded his hands upon the desktop. “Not even a hint of curiosity? Cadeyrn told you what I am. Are you afraid of me? According to him, I’m one of those dangerous, vicious alpha wolves.”