Page 36 of King of Forest and Fur

“I am at your command, Your Majesty.” Chaniel flashed a wide smile, fluttering her eyelashes at Rehn.

Her flirting had Leila fighting a frown, but if Rehn noticed, he ignored it completely, turning on his heels and starting toward the Royal Guard’s tower. Yaldred and Idris followed immediately. Leila waited for Chaniel to start.

“Maybe you’re lucky the rumors are not true,” Chaniel said with a shake of her shoulders. “He seems very gruff.”

“He only wants to finish the investigation,” Leila replied with another half-truth. Rehn wanted to protect her as well.

They hurried to catch up with Rehn and his small entourage. Two royal guards opened the double doors of the tower as the party reached the steps. As opulent as the main keep was, the guard tower favored a more practical appearance.

There was no art on the walls inside, simply a few sconces with hanging lamps. Simple wooden tables with none of the ornamentation or glossy varnish of the king and queen’s chamber filled the main room with stairs going up along the curved wall of the tower with another moving down to the prison and dungeon below.

The magical artifacts Rehn and Idris had collected were spread over one of the tables. Every sorcerer preferred a different medium and style of tool. There were a couple small statues, covered in arcane script, river-polished stones, even a gem, multiple animal bones, one worked into the head of a short staff, and a few things Leila didn’t recognize.

Rehn and Idris led them to the stairs going down. The main room of the guard tower seemed fancy compared to what lay below the ground level. The walls and floor were bare stone, with flickering torches replacing the lamps and belching dark smoke that hovered above their heads near the ceiling. Thick iron gates stood between the guard area and each cell. All stood open and empty at that moment.

“Drystan was in the third cell,” Rehn said, pointing to that cell. “After the escape, we evacuated the other prisoners lower in the dungeon.”

Chaniel stepped close to the open cell door. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, only for her nose to wrinkle. Leila agreed. The prison smelled of mold and rot, with the stink of men who had gone far too long between washes and lived in their own filth. She wondered how the shifters with their enhanced sense of smell could handle being in here at all.

With another deep breath, Chaniel stepped through the cell door. Her shoulders hitched and she froze, then turned around in a circle. She stepped outside, eyes opening before she nodded.

“I have the signature. It is strong. We should go back to the artifacts,” Chaniel said.

On the ground floor with the artifacts, Chaniel walked around the table, eyes narrowed, with her hand hovering above each item. She slowed at one of the little statues, a roughly human-shaped hunk of clay with white chalk eyes, but moved on to the next. She passed several items, shaking her head, then slowed over the deer skull-topped staff, but again moved on soon after.

Her hand froze above a circle of wicker with an abstract web of twisting and turning branches cutting through the center. Moments ticked by as everyone watched her. Finally, her eyes opened wide and she picked up the wicker object.

“Here,” she said, holding it out to Rehn, bowing. “This is the same signature I felt down below. Whoever made this was involved with the escape; their signature is all over the cell downstairs.”

“Altair!” Rehn growled, sending Chaniel flinching.

He snatched the wicker charm and rushed for the door out of the tower with Idris on his heels. Leila let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. They knew who helped Drystan and who was behind the plot to change history. It was over.

“I know he is the king, but could he not thank me?” Chaniel said, staring at the doors Rehn and Idris left through, then her eyes turned to Leila. “Now that it is all over, are we to be travel partners back to the academy? Maybe the two of us could commandeer a coach.”

Yaldred looked at Leila. At the center of attention from both an old friend and new, Leila felt put on the spot all of a sudden. The weight that left her shoulders knowing who was behind the plot came right back.

“My reasons for coming here seem to be concluded,” Leila said, earning a smile from Chaniel but knitted brows from Yaldred.

“In that case, I’ll go looking for a coach.” Chaniel left the royal guard house.

“Are you really planning on leaving?” Yaldred asked once they were alone. “Don’t you want to stay?”

“I accepted Rehn’s pledge of protection until we uncovered who was involved with the madman who wanted me to change history,” Leila replied. “I always planned on going back to my life after.”

All that was true, but even saying it, a part of Leila wanted to stay. If Yaldred had a response, she kept it to a deep frown.

EIGHTEEN

REHN

Bursting out of the royal guard house, Rehn was ready to strangle the life out of that cursed sorcerer with his bare hands. If he had done the same to Drystan in the first place, none of this would have happened. The threat to the kingdom and to his mate would have been smothered in the crib before it could have harmed anyone else.

“Where is Altair?” the king bellowed. His fingers itched for violence. The man had to die. His inner beast agreed, rippling just under his skin.

“Hold yourself, My King,” Idris called out, rushing to catch up with Rehn.

His formality shook Rehn from his rage, but only just. The beast inside yearned for the blood of the sorcerer who put his mate in danger. Idris moved in front of him, hands up hoping to calm him.

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