The wolf the twisted kin.., p.9
The Wolf (The Twisted Kingdoms Book 6), page 9
It was utterly disgraceful. It wasn’t like he was a pup who’d just come into maturity. He’d even come across other potential mates in the last few years, but none of them had affected him this way.
The woman shifted slightly and whispered, “Can I turn around?”
He nodded and loosened his hold, dragging his hands along her sides before he took a small step back. Even that was painful. He could do this. It was only attraction. It was only—
Slowly she turned around, and all thought fled.
She. Was. Stunning.
Heat rushed through his body and he tried to take a step, but her hand on his chest stopped him from advancing. Brine placed his large hand over her pale, freckled one and focused on grounding himself. It was like silk.
He scanned her heart-shaped face and full lips.
“Are you alright?” she asked softly, blinking her big, deep blue eyes at him as she pushed a lock of wispy golden-blond hair from her face. There was something familiar about her.
“No.”
She nodded and frowned slightly, causing him to notice a small scar on her left cheek. On another female it may have marred her looks, but on her—his woman—it only made her fiercer.
Another rush of attraction burned through him, urging him to crowd her against the tree once again so he could feel all her delightful curves pressed against his own body.
Get yourself together.
“Who … are you?” Brine managed to ask, not moving an inch.
Her brows furrowed and she pursed her lips. Once again he was struck with the notion that he knew her from somewhere. Although if that were the case, he was sure he’d never forget such a sensual creature.
He blanched as he realized he’d leaned into her touch and had reached out to touch her face. Brine exhaled heavily and forced himself to drop his hand, embarrassment heating his cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered a third time. “I’m having a hard time breaking away.”
“Such is the plight of being Talagan, or so I’m told,” she said.
Her sweet voice washed over him and some of the tension in his shoulders ebbed away. She didn’t seem angry or terrified.
He flinched and his lips parted when she inched closer to him and cupped his bristled cheek with her left hand. He sighed into the touch before he could stop it. So much for being a hardened warrior when a little slip of a woman could take him to his knees.
She smiled and he leaned toward her, wavering on his feet.
He frowned as the world blurred a little. Brine rocked back and lost his balance. A second later, he crashed to the ground, the taste of something bitter upon his tongue. He tried to speak but only garbled words came out.
What had she done to him?
The blond knelt by his side, rearranging his limbs into a more comfortable position before pushing a lock of hair from his eyes. He blinked as she gave him perhaps the saddest smile Brine had ever seen.
Who had put that look on her face?
“My name is Red,” she said as the world went black.
FIFTEEN
BRINE
“I knew I’d find you here.”
Brine turned from his position on the ramparts of Merjeri Manor and spied Pyre, Tempest, and Damien—who was clothed for once—walking toward him. The moon was almost full above his head; Brine had been staring at it for Dotae only knew how long, thinking about the slip of a woman who had knocked him unconscious. Her scent, as muted as it was, haunted his every waking moment, and his sleeping moments too.
Who was she? She said her name was Red. Brine still couldn’t believe she’d granted him one precious sliver of information before he closed his eyes and fell asleep for hours. When he’d come to, it had been dark, and Brine had shifted into his true form in order to follow Red’s scent through the trees that lined the estate and into the forest they grew into. He’d loped through the undergrowth late into the night, and long after the woman’s scent had disappeared from his nostrils. But he was desperate; how could he have found his mate and then so keenly lost her, mere moments later?
“Are you thinking of her?” Tempest asked knowingly, her tone teasing. When Brine had come to her to make a few inquiries about the woman, it had of course piqued the Hound’s interest. But though she and Pyre and Damien all together had reached out for any information about a blond woman named Red who lived in the region, they had come up blank. It was as if the woman was a ghost, a figment of Brine’s perverse, desperate imagination, a tantalizing apparition of something he longed for but could never have.
“There are more important things to think about than ghosts,” Brine replied, pushing the thought of Red aside to focus on what truly was most important: infiltrating Betraz.
Damien and Pyre stood on either side of Brine, leaning against the ramparts to stare at the moon with him. “You’re allowed to think about a woman and a job at the same time, you know,” Pyre said, glancing at Tempest as she pulled an arrow from her quiver and checked its point to ensure it was still sharp. “Focusing on both often has far more appealing results.” The grin he threw at Tempest was absolutely filthy. When an arrow whooshed through the air from her direction, the fox deftly caught it with a chuckle. “See what I mean? Completely worth it.”
“Watch your tongue or you’ll be sleeping alone tonight,” Tempest fired back, though she was struggling to hide the laughter in her voice.
Pyre nudged Brine’s shoulder. “I rest my case. You need someone challenging to be your mate. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
Damien nodded his agreement. “The fox is right, Brine. And besides, the hunt is part of what makes finding a mate so interesting. So what if she’s a ghost? It will make it all the more satisfying when you finally find her.”
“I’d rather we focused on the job, all things considered,” Brine said, running his hands through his hair to push it out of his face. He felt incredibly uncomfortable having everyone’s undivided attention trained on him. “I’ve never been one for chasing women anyway.”
Pyre rolled his eyes. “Don’t we all know it. Every time you and Chesh come back from a mission, I hold out hope that he’d have just one salacious story centered around you, not him. But that hope is always in vain. It’s time you loosened up, friend.”
“The job,” Brine pressed, on the edge of losing his patience entirely.
“You know fine well why I’m stalling,” Pyre said, drawing his mood back to serious as fast as the snap of a bowstring. He landed his topaz eyes on Brine’s. “I don’t want you to go back in there. We have other men who can infiltrate Betraz.”
Tempest and Damien murmured their agreement, but Brine barked out a laugh at the thought. “You have other men, yes, but you’d be sending them to their deaths. You’ve sent too many already. If I weren’t your friend, Pyre, you would have no problem using me for this. So use me. And besides,” Brine muttered, staring up at the moon, “I don’t have a choice. It’s my kin who are causing problems. I can’t run from them forever, even as I’ve been trying damn hard to do exactly that until now.”
Damien rested his hand on Brine’s shoulder, heavily enough for Brine’s knees to buckle beneath him for the briefest of moments before the dragon shifter raised his hand again. “You have my respect,” Damien said, “though I have to admit to being curious about how you plan to go about this. You can’t just walk into Betraz and face your grandmother. She’ll know something is up.”
“I know. That’s why I plan to attack her ship in Callmai.”
“Interesting way to get in her good books,” Tempest said, a frown coloring her brow. She crossed her arms over her chest as she tried to work out the logic behind Brine’s plan. “Do you plan to—”
“Sweep in to save the day as if I wasn’t the one who attacked the ship?” Brine finished for her, anticipating Tempest’s keen strategic instincts. “Of course. Chesh has far superior connections among the sailors and pirates who go through that port. He has already agreed to help so I can mend fences with my grandmother.”
Pyre chuckled appraisingly. “Of course the cat knew about this already and never told me. I have to say, it’s as good a plan as any. But Old Mother’s ship is due to leave port in two days. You don’t have much time.”
Brine offered him a feral grin. “I know. That’s why I’m leaving now.” He waved a hand down at the leather bag at his feet, packed and ready to go.
“Would you have told us about this had we not come up to meet you beforehand?”
Brine shrugged. “You’re here now, aren’t you? So all’s well that ends well.”
“Just so long as it does end well,” Tempest cut in, her genuine concern warming Brine’s soul with affection. He inclined his head when she nodded at him. “Be careful, Brine. Don’t get yourself killed.”
Brine said nothing. He knew he couldn’t promise that, even though he wished he could—for his sake and for his friends.
But he had to do this. He had to settle things in Betraz, even if it cost him his life.
SIXTEEN
SCARLET
Scarlet was nearing the edge of the Betraz Manor. She’d spent the last few days returning from Merjeri, all the while mulling over the lies she would have to fabricate to cover up why she didn’t assassinate Lady Merjeri. A shiver ran through her as she walked in the shadow of the immense pine trees. She glanced at the hem of her red cloak that hung out of her bag and clenched her jaw. It wasn’t worth the risk for the warmth it would provide. It made it far too easy for anyone inside the estate to identify her, which was the last thing she needed.
Scarlet shoved the cloak deeper into her bag and pulled the flap over the top to hide it. She had to get back up to her room before anyone spotted her in order to get hold of everything she needed to perform one very important job before she had to face up to her stepmother.
Just in case the lie she told was seen for exactly what it was: a lie.
One always had to be prepared.
On silent feet, Scarlet passed a couple of wolves standing sentry outside the manor’s servants’ entrance. Looking at them reminded her of the other thing that had been consuming her thoughts ever since she fled Merjeri.
The wolf who saw her.
The enemy who chased her down.
Who claimed she was his mate.
The wolf who looked like Bright.
Her stomach clenched.
Brine.
Her childhood crush and only friend at the time.
Bitterness seeped into her soul at the memory.
Logically, Scarlet knew he’d been several years older than she. Enough for him to think of her as a little sister and nothing more. Enough for him to run from the pack and leave her behind with the monsters, without ever looking back.
He never wrote.
He never came home.
That was when she’d stopped believing in heroes.
Swallowing down the past sorrow, she crept along the path in thought, making sure to keep out of the wolves’ sight.
Why had Brine been prowling the corridors of Lady Marianne’s estate in Merjeri? From the little information she’d gathered over the years from Arwen, he was part of the Dark Court. A group of thieves, murderers, and drug suppliers. It made no sense that he’d been in Merjeri. Was he on an assignment? Part of her had wanted to ask, but keeping her mouth shut had been the wisest course. Brine hadn’t recognized her.
That was a blessing in of itself.
Knocking him out and running had been the best choice.
Reaching the kitchen, Scarlet crept into the bushes and tossed a rock as hard as she could, distracting the guards standing outside the servants’ entrance.
She snuck inside and closed the door firmly behind her.
“Gus,” she gasped, breathless.
Gusal and his twin, Jaq, turned from the pantry, covered in flour, surprise plain as day on their faces at seeing Scarlet.
“We didn’t expect you back so soon,” Jaq said. His eyes narrowed. “Where is your cloak? You know Lady Betraz doesn’t like it when you walk about without it.”
“I need to do something first before I see her,” Scarlet replied, pushing away from the door. She held a finger to her lips and lead them into the pantry so they could talk privately.
Gus leaned forward expectantly. “What is it?”
“Moses—the half Talagan boy,” she whispered. “Where is he being held?”
Understanding dawned on the twin’s faces simultaneously.
“You didn’t assassinate the duchess of Merjeri? You never fail,” Gus said in a hushed tone.
Scarlet exhaled heavily and shook her head. “I couldn’t. If you had been there… if you’d seen… she’s running an orphanage. How could I destroy someone who is that good?”
“The boy will pay for this.” Jaq’s mouth turned down in sadness. “And you’re putting your life at risk for someone you don’t even know. This is dangerous—even for you.”
“I know, but I have a plan.” Scarlet swallowed hard. “But I will need help.”
Gus and Jaq exchanged looks then nodded. “You will have it.”
She sighed in relief. They’d never refused her before but it pained Scarlet to ask them to risk their lives for her. “Thank you.”
“We’re family,” Gus said softly. “It’s what we do.”
“Enough sentiment,” Jaq cut in brusquely. “You need to get the boy out. Now. Give us five minutes and we’ll find out where he is.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You can’t stay here. We’ll meet you at your rooms.”
“Done.” Scarlet tossed her arms around them, not caring about the flour and pressed kisses to their whiskered cheeks. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Hug us when this is all over,” Jaq said stiffly. “Then we will know you’re safe.” He untangled himself from her and grabbed a parcel of wrapped food from a back corner of the pantry and pressed it into her hands. “For your journey.”
She nodded and tucked it into her bag. Next, Scarlet crept from the pantry through the manor using several dark hidden passageways. Every time she entered one, past memories threatened to overwhelm her. But she managed to anchor herself by running her fingers along the stone walls.
Once she reached her room, Scarlet tossed the food onto her small bed and took a moment to strip out of her clothing, making sure to sprinkle the soiled garments with a powder of her own creation that removed scents from the cloth. Now, no one would ever know she’d had contact with Brine.
Quickly, she redressed in a simple brown dress and cloak, then tucked her hair down the back. Next, she pulled out her red cloak from her bag and laid it across her bed. Her skin prickled as time tracked on and she packed. A few small knives, vials of poison, a sleeping powder, foodstuffs, and a perfume that diluted her scent. Scarlet rolled the cloak up with her supplies and she stuffed it back into her bag.
That had to be good enough.
If her stepmother did not believe her lies about why she’d failed to murder Lady Marianne, Scarlet would have mere seconds to escape with her life.
Providing she returned safely after saving Moses.
Three short knocks and two long raps on the door had her flinching.
It cracked open and the twins snuck into her room, closing the door silently behind them.
“Did anyone see you?” she asked.
“No. We were careful,” Gus replied. His lips pursed and he crossed his arms.
That wasn’t a good sign. “What is it?”
“Moses in being held in the lower dungeons.” Jaq’s voice was grave.
Hell.
Scarlet suppressed a shudder, bile burning in the back of her throat. That was where they kept the worst of the worst, not innocent sick children.
“It’s too risky for you to go,” Jaq added.
“I have no other choice.” She gave the twins a weak smile. “It’s my fault he’s there in the first place. I meddled in his life and Arwen is punishing him for it. I can’t stand by.” She slung her bag over her shoulder. “Be careful while I’m gone and keep your heads down. Old Mother will be looking to take heads when she discovers Moses gone.”
“Keep safe,” the twins murmured.
She spared them one last glance before entering the secret hallway hidden beside her fireplace. Darkness closed in around her as the door swung shut and she took a moment to calm herself before she began running for the dungeons. Over the years she’d memorized all the hidden corridors. The ones Arwen knew about, she avoided.
With no time to waste, she moved down two flight of stairs that connected with the lower dungeon. She paused at the door and strained her ears.
No sign of movement on the other side.
With care, Scarlet pressed the keyhole and the door swung inward. She stepped into the weapons room and fought to keep from gagging. Calling it a weapons room was generous.
It was the torture room.
Weapons covered in dried blood hung from the walls and chains dangled from the ceiling. She latched the door behind her, the fake stone blending seamlessly into the wall. Scarlet crossed over to the wooden door on silent feet and listened once again. No one was usually down here at this time of day but one could never be too cautious.
Luckily, there was no lock on this door.
Sure she could pick a lock but it would waste precious time.
Scarlet opened the door just a crack and scanned the left side of the dungeon.
No wolves.
She opened it farther and peeked right.
No guards.
Time to move.
She fled down the center aisle way of the dingy dark place.
Most of the cells were vacant. Her stepmother didn’t like to keep prisoners for very long. She enjoyed killing them too much.
Scarlet’s heart picked up as she spotted Moses in one cell and his parents in the next one over. None of them looked alright. How the devil was she supposed to get them out? Abel’s left leg looked mangled and Riia was one giant bruise.
