Page 116 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

It was Bard yet it wasn’t Bard. Because the Bard in the scene was young and whole, his face free of scars. He stared at Joel with two clear blue eyes, his handsome face full of anger and frustration.

“A selfish boy,” Sabine said, and the images in the water shivered. “Concerned only with power. Unwilling to accept the decision of the people.”

In the water, the Joel figure threw out his arms in a telltale pleading motion.

“Unwilling to listen to his father’s adviser,” Sabine said.

The Bard in the water shoved Joel away. Water swirled over both figures, and the scene reformed. This time, Bard stood before a small, tidy house in a dark wood, his fist raised as if he might knock.

Sabine spoke again. “Seeking to ascend a throne denied him, the boy seized it the only way he could.”

Lightning flashed across the water.

Haley jumped and shielded her eyes.

A second later, thunder boomed, making the conservatory’s glass walls tremble.

On the tail of the thunder, Sabine’s power-infused voice shook the room. “BY FORCE.”

In the water, the door to the house opened and Sabine emerged, her slender body hugged by a long, black gown and her hair in a riot of tiny braids. She touched the young version of Bard, who suddenly blazed as if he’d been lit from within. In the water, he turned from Sabine and strode from the house, his steps sure and determined, his big body haloed by light.

The water swirled. Yet another scene formed.

This time, a glowing Bard circled a faceless male. Both were shirtless, their bodies covered in sweat, shoulders hunched as they clearly prepared to fight. It was still night, but the moon dumped light over the dense forest, its beam making the males’ shoulders glisten.

Haley stared at the water, her heart thundering in her chest. Nausea burned her throat. If she could have spoken, she would have begged Sabine to stop her twisted fairy tale right there. Because she already knew how it ended.

“The people chose another,” Sabine said.

The faceless male launched himself at Bard and struck him across the face. Bard fell to the ground, his cheek split open from his eye to the corner of his mouth.

“The boy refused to accept it.”

His glow undimmed, Bard stood. He bent low, his shoulder aimed at the other male’s knees.

“He insisted on a challenge.”

The faceless male feinted, then delivered a blow that snapped Bard’s head around and sent him sprawling face first into the grass.

Haley tried to look away, but she couldn’t turn her head. Tears burned her throat and ran down her cheeks.

In the water, the faceless male dropped to all fours and Turned, his transformation rippling over him like a current.

A Finder. Haley’s heart beat faster. Their Gift was speed. They didn’t just Turn faster than other wolves—they fought faster, too, their punches connecting before their opponent even realized they moved.

In wolf form now, the male leapt just as Bard flipped to his back. Bard shoved both arms out, hitting the wolf in the chest.

But he was no match for a Finder. In a blur, the wolf seized Bard’s left leg.

Bard’s mouth opened on a soundless scream.

The wolf shook his head like a dog with a rat. Blood spurted.

Bard swung a wild arm, striking the wolf in the side of the head.

Jaws still locked on the leg, the wolf swiped a paw down Bard’s side, claws gouging bloody furrows from his hips to his knee.

“It should have ended there,” Sabine said.

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