Never in her life had she seen a more beautiful dress. A blue so pale it was silver, the material sparkled like a spider’s web in the morning sunlight. The full skirt swayed with her movements and Loupe smiled. She ran her hands over the snug bodice, trailing them up to brush her fingers over the off-the-shoulder sleeves. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror as she followed Loeg through the house and her breath caught in her throat.

  Her hair was twisted into an intricate pattern on top of her head, with small ringlets falling around her ears. The strands that had always been a dull straw-like yellow suddenly appeared like golden waves of sunlight. Her face had been powdered, her eyes outlined with black kohl, and her lips shaded to the pink of a fresh rose. Never had she seen herself look so…magical. Her stepfamily would never recognize her.

  She practically floated out of the kitchen door into the garden. A few yards away, a pumpkin rose out of the pumpkin patch and floated in the air to land on the other side of the fence. Vines and leaves curled into large circles, fading to white as they spun. The pumpkin itself lightened until it was the palest orange she’d ever seen. It grew and grew until it was as large as the royal carriage. Small windows appeared in either side so Loupe could peer right through it to the other side.

  “Oh, Loeg,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  She turned to see Loeg eyeing the wand like he’d never used it before. She opened her mouth to ask him why he was staring at it like that, but he jerked his head up and the question died on her tongue.

  “Oh! One more thing.”

  He whistled and a second later a tiny horse flew up from the leaves of the raspberry bush in the corner of the garden. Loupe gasped. It looked like a floating star in the shape of a horse and its whinny brought a smile to her face.

  “He’ll pull your new carriage. You don’t need to harness him, the pumpkin will hold on by itself.”

  Loupe raised her eyebrows at the tiny horse, then glanced over at the large carriage. “He must be much stronger than he appears.”

  She tentatively reached out a hand to pet the small creature and squealed as it abruptly grew in size. It continued to grow until it stood in front of her—a full man-sized horse.

  “Amazing.” She gently stroked the silky fur of the horse’s nose. It whinnied and nudged harder into her hand, apparently eager to be petted. A thrill went through Loupe. It had been a long time since a horse had not shied away from her.

  “What a good boy you are,” Loupe cooed. “Yes, you are. You are such a good boy.”

  “It is shameful the way he’s throwing himself at you,” Loeg groused. “That miserable glue pot would as soon swallow me as give me the time of day!”

  Loupe’s eyebrows shot up as the horse whipped its head around and bared its teeth at Loeg. Its eyes rolled until they were white orbs without pupils, glowing with a faint red light. Loeg growled back and it swung its head back to Loupe, its eyes once again a watery blue. Loupe patted its nose. A fairy horse.

  “You can keep the beast,” Loeg spat. “I’ll be stomped if I’m going to keep the ungrateful creature around me.”

  “Oh.” Loupe eyed the horse again. It nudged her with its huge head, almost knocking her off her feet. “I couldn’t take your horse from you.”

  “What do I need a horse for?” Loeg asked. “I’ve got wings, remember?”

  “But…then why do you have a horse?”

  His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. “What, I’m not allowed to have a horse?”

  One could make a study out of how to avoid arguing with a fey, Loupe decided. She glanced down at the ointment and then back to the horse. But dealing with them is still incredibly worth it.

  8

  Etienne grasped the arms of his throne in a white-knuckled grip. He felt as if the wolf was in his throat, its claws digging in as it tried to crawl out of his body. He couldn’t swallow, could barely breathe. He fought not to glance down at his body again, resisting the urge to be certain that he was in fact still human. With his wolf growing fainter and fainter as the days went by, the only time he could shift at all was during the full moon. Unfortunately, it was the night of the ball and Etienne had to resist the lunar call for as long as he could.

  His beast was less than understanding.

  It was as if his wolf could sense that this was its last moon, its last chance to feel the grass under its paws and the wind in its fur before it was gone forever. It was taking all of his strength, but Etienne was holding it in. Barely.

  Waves of tension rolled over him, coming from the throne next to his. He didn’t need to look to know his father was watching him with concern etched across his features. He caught movement out of his peripheral vision and Etienne angled his body to see his father gesture for the greeting line to stop. The procession of people who had been moving past the thrones, each one greeting the king and queen in turn, paused. His father leaned toward him.

  “Etienne, go outside,” he said under his breath. “You do not have to do this. Your mother and I will continue the greetings. If someone here is a loup garou, we will find them. And no matter what happens, you will always be my son.”

  Anger sizzled through Etienne like a bolt of lightening and he struggled against it. His father meant well. He was trying to comfort Etienne, but all Etienne wanted to do was rage against the curse the damned witch had dared to call a blessing. His senses were at full strength, his wolf ready to burst through his skin. It would be too easy to give in to the emotions raging inside him, to let his beast free and tear through the room searching for the loup garou he needed. Perhaps if all else failed, he would go back to the witch and give his wolf one last hunt…

  “Etienne.”

  His mother’s voice tore him from the violent path his thoughts had taken. He forced himself to meet his mother’s eyes. Their conversation came back to him. She’d warned him this would happen, warned him not to bottle up his temper. He had to hold himself together. Straightening his spine, Etienne fixed his parents with his most reassuring smile. “Please, don’t worry so much. I am fine. I must have faith in what the witch said. Tonight I will find the person who will end this curse and return me to the prince I have always been.”

  His father did not appear convinced, but he leaned back in his seat, automatically patting his wife’s hand. Etienne forced himself to meet his mother’s eyes and smile. The worry in her eyes nearly undid him.

  Curse the witch, Etienne thought bitterly. I’ve met hundreds of people and not one of them has held even the faintest scent of wolf. I—

  His thoughts came to a stuttering halt. Without realizing it, he rose halfway out of his seat, his attention focused on the entryway at the top of the grand staircase.

  Loupe. He didn’t know how he knew it was her. She looked so different it could have been another woman. The plain cotton dresses he’d always seen her in had been replaced by a ballgown that could not have been fashioned by human hands. The fabric glittered and glowed as she moved, a beautiful shine of pale blue. Her long golden hair had been swept up on top of her head, with only a few strands falling in supple curls around her face. And her face… Gone were the smudges he’d grown so used to seeing, put there by muddy wolf pups and self-conscious swipes with her dirty hands. His beautiful Loupe had been polished to an even more glorious shine. A diamond amongst coal.

  Yes, she looked different, but Etienne knew without a shadow of a doubt that the woman hesitating at the top of the stairway was the same maiden he’d met in the woods. The one who had come to him in tears over a missing wolf pup, the one he’d kissed with more emotion than he’d ever shown a woman.

  The kiss. Etienne thought of the fear in her eyes, the way she’d run away from him. He’d scared her then, he must be careful not to do so now. Besides that, he had no time for romance. He had to find a loup garou, had to assure that his werewolf blood would not be snuffed out by a blessing. He needed to be mingling with his people, not making a beeline for one lonely maiden.

  Somehow he’d already crossed half of the room. With every step, his blood grew hotter, his determination grew stronger, and his wolf grew more and more aware of the female calling to him. The people dancing around him slowly trailed off, all of them staring at their prince as he practically dove for Loupe. His brain was a jumbled mess, incapable of thinking, only feeling. He hadn’t seen her in so long and he wanted her. Etienne couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t make himself slow down, much less stop. His hands closed around her hips, fingers tightening…

  “A waltz!” called out the king.

  The royal musicians leapt to do his bidding. An explosion of music muffled the mindless chatter and Etienne desperately swung Loupe into the dance. The energy that had propelled him across the room toward her was redirected into the passion of the waltz. He held Loupe in his arms, staring into her eyes as he spun her, swung her, and all but dragged her around the dance floor. She held onto him as they danced, her body moving with his no matter how fast he spun them. Every once in a while she would glance down at his mouth. She licked her lips.

  His muscles twitched as he fought the urge to swing her off her feet and run outside with her. The sight of her small pink tongue wetting her plump bottom lip brought the memory of their kiss roaring into his brain. He remembered her taste, the sounds of her moans, the feel of her body… He wanted her.

  Now.

  Etienne led them, still dancing, to the archway leading to the balcony. His wolf drew up inside him, hungry for the carnality it could sense coming. He had to suck in a deep breath and remind himself to remain in control. He didn’t want to scare her, not again, not while he held her so close. Seconds later, a thick red curtain fell to block the archway. That, Etienne had no doubt, had been at his father’s behest.

  Obviously his father thought Etienne had chosen to go with plan B, producing a werewolf heir before the witch’s blessing robbed him of that chance. Etienne wanted to brush that thought off as vulgar and uncouth. The wolf inside him thought it was a grand idea.

  Once they were away from prying eyes, he drew them to a gentle stop. Loupe rested in his arms, her chest rising and falling with every rapid breath. Every inhalation threatened to draw his attention to the perfect mounds of her breasts, but he couldn’t look away from her eyes. She still hadn’t spoken a word. He waited for her to pull away, but she stayed in his arms. Waiting?

  “Loupe,” he whispered.

  Her body tensed in his arms. Etienne wanted to be gentle, wanted to go slow so as not to scare her, but he was ravenous. He crushed her to his chest, his mouth descending on hers like a starving man. She gasped and he swallowed the sound, raising a hand to the back of her head to hold her to him. Satisfaction swelled inside him as she raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck, clinging for dear life. His wolf howled inside him, demanding he claim her, mark her as his. His beast wanted a mate—wanted Loupe. His teeth ached to bite her, a visible mark that would show the world she belonged to him. A growl vibrated his chest and Loupe’s breath hitched. Her arousal perfumed the air and it was all Etienne could do not to shred the ballgown and rip it from her body.

  With the last shred of willpower he had, Etienne tore his mouth from Loupe’s. He had to talk to her, had to know she wanted him, all of him. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—take her until she knew exactly what she was getting.

  He sucked in huge lungfuls of air, fighting his beast so he could think. “Loupe.” His voice was hoarse, almost incomprehensible. “Loupe, I want you to stay.” He swallowed and tried to concentrate on making sense. Logic had abandoned him, his wolf too close to the surface to think past the overpowering primal urges seizing his body. “Come to my chambers with me.”

  Loupe gasped, and the sound drew his attention to her mouth. Etienne tried to hold on to his control, but his wolf was growing more and more impatient. It did not want to talk.

  “Etienne… Etienne, I can’t.”

  Her words barely registered. Etienne buried his face in her neck, kissing down the smooth column of her throat. She smelled so good, so right. He had to have her. “You can’t what?” he asked, his brain barely following the conversation.

  “I can’t…stay.”

  Etienne fought to hold in the growl that wanted to trickle from his lips. He had to be gentle with her.

  “Loupe, I know it seems like things are moving too fast.” His voice was tight, strained with the effort to speak. “I don’t expect you to want me the same way I—”

  “No, Etienne, I do want you,” Loupe whispered. “Etienne… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

  Etienne opened his mouth, prepared to argue with her. A scent drifted past his nose and the words died.

  “Etienne? What’s wrong?”

  He grabbed her arms, adrenaline burning like acid through his veins. The desire he’d been fighting against fell back in the face of a new realization. He pressed his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. Wolf.

  “Etienne! What are you doing?”

  “You smell of soap. You bathed before you came here.”

  He pulled back in time to see Loupe’s cheeks flush a becoming shade of pink. “What kind of a thing is that to say? Really, Etienne—”

  “You also smell like wolf.”

  The horror that lit up her eyes told him everything he needed to know. Etienne gaped at her, too shocked to think clearly. “You smell like wolf. You always smell like wolf. I thought it was the pups. But you… Loupe, you’re a werewolf, aren’t you? A loup garou?”

  Her palms slammed into his chest, catching him off guard. He grunted as he swayed back and she shrieked and jerked her arms free. Before he could gather his wits enough to react, she was clutching at her head.

  “Loupe,” he gasped, panicking at the pain twisting her beautiful face. “Loupe, are you all right?”

  Etienne had never actually witnessed a cursed werewolf changing. The only werewolves he’d ever known had been born werewolves, and they were taught from a young age what to expect from the change and how to handle it. First shifts were always done surrounded by family, in a safe place. None of that had prepared him for what he was witnessing now.

  Loupe’s dress shimmered and wavered. Suddenly it disappeared, revealing her old plain cotton dress. Her hair fell out of the complicated twists and tumbled around her shoulders. Etienne’s eyebrows shot up as he realized she’d been glamoured. He didn’t have long to think about it.

  The beast fought its way out of her. The long brown muzzle pushed out of her face in a stomach churning crunch of bones. Two sharp cracks echoed in the air as her legs bent backwards and she fell to the ground. Etienne fought not to cry out in empathy as he realized the level of Loupe’s terror and pain during her transformation. As a born werewolf, and a powerful alpha besides, Etienne could exert some control over the changes of other werewolves. He reached out to Loupe, desperate to see if he could ease her shift.

  Stuck halfway through her change, Loupe’s eyes still rolled back. A high-pitched shriek escaped her convulsing vocal chords. The sound seized Etienne’s nerves and he fell away from her. He shot a glance at the red velvet curtain that shielded them from the ballroom. Even with the music still playing loudly, people were likely to have heard Loupe’s cry.

  If anyone saw Loupe like this, there would be no saving her. There would be a coup if Etienne tried to save her, if his people thought he was protecting a loup garou over them. His wolf howled inside him, long and loud. A wave of heat roared through his blood and Etienne knew in that moment that he would do whatever it took to protect Loupe. No matter what.

  Blocking Loupe with his own body as best he could, Etienne fought to steady himself. He needed to try and reverse her change. He didn’t even know if it was possible, but he had to try. He let his beast rise to settle beneath his skin.

  He was too late. The wolf finished its rebirth, exploding from Loupe’s body in a wash of chestnut brown fur. It swung its head in Etienne’s direction and for a split second he thought he saw recognition in its golden eyes. Then there was a muffled curse behind him and the wolf’s gaze zeroed in on the curtain. A second later, it bounded down the stairs that led from the balcony to the palace grounds and vanished into the darkness.

  “Etienne, what is going on out here?”

  Etienne whipped around to find his father staring, wide-eyed, at the spot that had only moments ago held a terrified Loupe.

  “Etienne, was that…?”

  “Loupe.” He started to unfasten his clothes, preparing for his own shift. “I’ve got to go after her. I’m such a fool! I scared her, frightened her into the change. She has no control, she’s out there…”

  “Your Highness, what’s going on?”

  An old woman appeared from behind the curtain, dressed in a simple black frock. Her already well-worn face creased even more with her concern as she took in the scene. The king stepped in front of Etienne, blocking his half unbuttoned coat from view. Etienne quickly shuffled to stand on top of the garments Loupe had left on the ground, hoping the woman didn’t notice them. Then he got a closer look at their visitor.

  “Oh, it’s you.” He gestured at the old woman. “Father, this is Mother Hazel. She’s the witch responsible for my…blessing.”

  “How did you get past my guards?” the king demanded.

  “I’m a witch. People move when I tell them to.” The corners of her mouth fell as she focused on Etienne. “I heard a horrifying sound.” Her gaze dropped to the garments beneath Etienne’s feet. “What happened?”

  Suddenly the music behind the curtain ceased, replaced with an increasingly loud, yet muffled, roar of a thousand voices speaking at once. Etienne turned with his father and the witch, all three of them rushing back beyond the curtain.

  “What’s going on?” the witch demanded of the first person she could get her hands on.

 

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