Page 12 of Wolf's Keep

Gaharet regarded his youngest vassal. “I cannot leave, Aimon. To do so would be an admission of guilt. Lothair would hunt me down for his own purposes. I stay, he is certain of my fealty. He believes he owns me, and while that works to his advantage, things will remain as they are.”

“WhatareLothair’s plans for us now that he is aware of our existence?” asked Lance.

Gaharet gave a disgusted snort. “He wants to recruit us, use our skills, our innate abilities. He’s rather impressed with the idea of a creature that can kill so efficiently yet still be controlled by a human mind.”

Lance frowned. “That is very specific information. Being told werewolves exist, surely the myth of a nightmarish half-man, half-beast filled with blood lust would be what first comes to mind. Not us.”

Gaharet could only agree.

“If he wants to keep us in his army, he had best stop Renaud killing us off.” Aubert thumped his fist on the table.

“He does not need all of us. Just one,” said Gaharet, eyeing the men about the table. “He wants to build his own army. An army of werewolves.”

Voices broke out louder, punctuated by growls. None seemed any more pleased with the idea than he.

“You are the closest to him, Gaharet. If he suspects you, perhaps he will ask you to turn other chevaliers,” said Lance. “Perhaps he will ask it for himself.”

A low rumble reverberated in Ulrik’s chest. “The last thing we need is for Lothair to be one of us.”

Lothair as a werewolf? Gaharet shuddered. “Agreed. He can ask all he likes. I will not turn others for Lothair’s benefit and I most certainly will not turn Lothair. But here is what is interesting,” he said, leaning forward, his elbows on the table, his fingers steepled. “Renaud has convinced him only the alpha can give him what he wants.”

Lance frowned. “But that is not true.”

“Precisely. Why, when everything else he knows is accurate, does he have this so wrong?”

“Does he know who the alpha is?” asked Aimon.

“Mayhap he does, and this has as much to do with Lothair as with us.” Godfrey stroked his beard, his expression thoughtful. “Perhaps Renaud wants you out of the way, Gaharet, or at least at odds with Lothair. Who is the real target here?”

“So,” drawled Ulrik, leaning his elbow on the table. “Can we kill Renaud now?”

“Yes, let us do that.” Lance shook his head at Ulrik. “If Renaud turns up dead, or disappears altogether, who do you think Lothair is going to turn on? We would also draw the attention of Rome. Do you really think that is a good idea right now? Do we not have enough enemies?”

Ulrik sighed, dropping his arm. “You spoil all my fun.”

They were quiet for a moment, picking at their food, sipping wine.

“And what of the woman?” ventured Godfrey, his eyebrows raised in Gaharet’s direction.

The men nodded.

“We sensed her presence,” said Lance, and they all looked to him, their eyes reflecting their curiosity, their interest, dark shapes shifting behind their irises.

“Citrus and orange blossoms,” said Ulrik, sniffing the air. “And arousal.” He slid a sly look in Gaharet’s direction.

Lance grinned. “You moved quicker than I expected after our talk the other night.”

Gaharet lowered his gaze. He had been a fool to think they would not know. That they would not catch her scent.

“Are you planning to mate her?” asked Godfrey, all eyes fixed on him, watching, waiting, eager for an answer.

Avoiding their stares, Gaharet took a moment to respond. What should he tell them about her? He did not wish to tell them anything. He wanted to keep her all to himself. His reluctance to discuss her was disconcerting. He frowned, fingering the amulet in his palm.

“I found her outside the keep last night… Or more accurately, she found me. She used this.”

He tossed the amulet on the table. It spun for a few moments, glittering with reflected light from the fire.Clink. It came to rest against the oak surface.

Silence fell, all eyes directed at the small gold disc in the center of the table. Then the room exploded into a cacophony of sound.

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