Page 88 of Shadows of Winter

“If you are an anrokk, that might explain what Beatrada witnessed.”

“Who?”

“My niece. She went to ranger headquarters yesterday and saw you and Vlerion standing together. Closely.”

“Oh, that was his cousin?” Relief swept through Kaylina before she could remind herself that she wasn’t interested in Vlerion and might not see him again if his mother had anything to do with it.

“Yes. She brought him news of another lord who was killed, a tax collector who was visiting the Nockberry Estate.” Isla waved, perhaps to indicate that was somewhere close.

“With a blunt object?”

“I’m not certain of the details. If you are an anrokk…” Isla repeated, then trailed off.

“I don’t think I’m anything special.”

Isla looked pointedly down at the cat weaving between Kaylina’s legs and purring. When Kaylina looked down, it put its front paws on her thigh and gazed up at her.

“I…” Kaylina lowered her arms, not sure if she should pick it up when Isla was reading who knew what into the attention.

The cat startled her by springing into her arms, trusting she would catch it.

“They are almost entirely men when they are in their born forms,” Isla murmured, watching as Kaylina had little choice but to hold and pet the insistent cat. “But there’s a hint of the beast. It’s always there. Powerful. Dangerous. Just under the surface.”

Kaylina swallowed. She’d sensed exactly that numerous times when she’d been near Vlerion. “Especially when they get irked?”

“Yes. That is the nature of the curse. It is when their emotions are roused that the beast comes out. Strong emotions are what bestir it. Hate. Anger. Passion. Fear.” Her voice grew soft again. “Lust.”

“When you say bestir, do you mean…” Again, Kaylina thought of the catacombs, of the creature she’d seen.

“They turn from men into beasts.”

Isla took a lantern burning low near the bed and pushed on a bookcase, revealing a secret door, a windowless office behind it. Maps of the kingdom and enemy territories were mounted on the walls, but she went straight to a desk, a sketchbook open on the surface. She held up the lantern, gesturing Kaylina over.

Kaylina stared at a black-and-white illustration of the beast she’d glimpsed in the catacombs. Whoever the artist had been wasn’t as practiced as the people who’d done the paintings downstairs, but he or she had captured the predatory power and savagery of the beast. Sleek fur short enough that one could see every muscle underneath the pelt. Claws. Fangs. Genitalia close enough to human to be startling. But the eyes were wild. Crazy, one might even say. There was no hint of sanity in them. Of control.

“That’s Vlerion?” Kaylina whispered. “What he becomes?”

“This was my husband. I haven’t seen Vlerion when he’s turned, and I don’t want to since people inevitably die when it happens. Men, good men, lose themselves when they become the beast. They’re like rabid animals, savage instincts driving their actions. Only when they’ve sated their great surges of emotion do they change back into men. It can be minutes later. It can be hours later. The magic that the curse brings is unpredictable.”

Even though a part of Kaylina had grasped this in the catacombs, it was still shocking to hear the details.

“When they’re beasts, they kill indiscriminately. They sometimes know friend from foe but sometimes do not. And all men target them. Understandably, I suppose, but—” Isla’s voice cracked, and she took a slow breath before continuing. “That is how I lost Vlarek. His own comrades didn’t know about the curse, and when he turned and attacked people, they thought he was a monster down from the mountains. It took a great many trained rangers, but they slew him. Only when he died and turned back into a man, his body stark naked under the moonlight, did they learn the truth.

“That is why Captain Targon knows of the family curse. A few other rangers were there and also know. Before that, hardly anyone did. The descendants of King Balzarak Havartaft have kept it secret for generations, most of the men in the family seeking quiet lives, so as not to have the beast roused, so as not to kill, to murder. When it happens, sometimes they remember what they did. Sometimes not. From what my husband said, changing was like a dream—or a nightmare. Afterward, he was never certain what happened and what didn’t.

“As you might imagine, I was horrified to learn all this, only after my parents had promised me to Avaron. Our families were old friends, and my grandmother knew of the curse. Apparently, she promised me to Avaron because I was a bit on the dowdy side, someone she thought wouldn’t stir much lust but who could provide children.” Her lips pressed together. “You can imagine what an honor that was when I learned of it.”

Kaylina couldn’t help but stare as the story unfolded, absently petting the cat in her arms. If this was a huge family secret, why was Isla telling her? What if Isla planned to have her killed after revealing everything? Thus far, she’d seemed like she might help Kaylina, but who knew what was in the noblewoman’s mind? It wasn’t as if she had any reason to feel anything for Kaylina. Her cat might like her, but…

“You’re wondering why I’m telling you this,” Isla said, watching her.

Kaylina couldn’t imagine what expression was on her face.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Isla smiled thinly. “You seem like someone who would stir a man’s lust. If not his ire. Or both at once.”

What was Kaylina supposed to say to that? She couldn’t speak to Vlerion’s lust, but she’d irked him more than once. More than once a day.

---