Page 47 of Wolf's Keep

His nostrils flared. The training room. Hehadgiven her free rein of the keep. Of course she had left no corner unexplored. And she’d been on the top floor, taken a blade from his armory even. With her gift for keen observation, she would not have missed the broken straps or the gouges on the door. In time, she would need to know the purpose of that room, need to make use of it herself to aid in the training of her wolf. Once he’d turned her. Not yet, though. He could answer none of her questions, but he needed his answered.

“You found bones in the underground cell, did you not?”

She expelled a loud sigh. “I guess you don’t really want to hear what I have to say, then?”

His horse plodded on, reaching the edge of the meadow and plunging them back into the coolness of the trees. He did not want to force her into answering, but unless he was prepared to lie to her about the training room—and he wasn’t—he had no other choice.

“Think about where we are, Erin, where we are going. For the moment, you are in my care, under my protection. If something were to happen to me, as you have suggested it will, where does that leave you?”

“I know.” She swiveled to face him, almost unseating herself from the horse, grabbing his arm to steady herself. “Why do you think I keep asking about the amulet? Something is going to happen to you, and soon, and I need to get home before it does. Before I get caught up in it.”

“It is too late for that, Erin. By this afternoon we will be at Langeais Keep. Help me. Tell me what you know. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, to prevent my chaplain ever needing to write those two words in his journal.”

“Give me the amulet, tell me how to reverse the spell and you won’t need to worry about keeping me safe. I’ll be gone.”

“I do not have an amulet with me.” At least not one with an inscription. Not that it would do her any good, even if he did. The amulet had but a single purpose—to hide their existence. Never meant as a means to transverse time, no reverse spell existed. Not one he knew of. He could not send her home. Not even if he wanted to. If she knew the position she was in, would she help him? He suspected she would take such news badly, so he kept the knowledge to himself. For now.

She glared at him. “You did this deliberately, didn’t you? You’ve brought me along so I would have to tell you everything I know. If I don’t, I’m risking my life along with yours.” She turned her back on him, staring off into the forest, her body rigid against him. “Yes, to answer your question, we did find a skeleton in the underground cell. It belonged to a tall male, whose age I had yet to determine, but I found the amulet with his bones.”

Gaharet frowned at her vehement response. Was it fear that had her reacting so? Or because he had outmaneuvered her? She glared down at his hand still resting on her thigh and shoved it away.Merde.His little filly was a complicated creature. Regardless, he pressed on.

“What else can you tell me about the bones?”

“Not much,” she said, her tone little more than a growl. “We have no way of telling how long the man was in the cell for, but we do know they’d chained him to the wall.”

“And?”

“And at some point, the chains snapped. Whether this happened prior to his death or after, we can’t be sure.”

“Anything else?”

She gave him a look that promised retribution at her earliest possible convenience.

“Given the damage on the bones, I suspect the cause of death was decapitation.”

He hesitated. He had to know for certain. “Was there anything unusual about the skeleton or the shackles?”

Her eyes met his before skittering away. “What makes you ask that?”

Foreboding tightened his chest. “What did you find, Erin?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing, really.” But her frown told a different story.

“It caught your attention. What did you find?” For a moment, he thought she would not answer. He did not wish to push her any harder, but he must know.

“They made the shackles of silver, not iron.”

There could be no doubt. One of his kind had died in that cell. Worse, Lothair had known he had a werewolf imprisoned. There was no point in using silver shackles on a human. But a werewolf… It was the only thing that could bind them. Which of his men had Lothair captured? Lance, Aimon, one of the twins? Had they given Lothair what he wanted or had they died because they refused?

“I hope you have a plan that will keep us from being thrown into that cell. Or better still, we turn this beast around and head back to the safety of your keep. Dying in the tenth century doesn’t hold a lot of appeal for me.”

He turned her to face him, cupping her chin. “Look at me, Erin.”

She raised her gaze to meet his.

“Do you really think I would allow any harm to come to you,ma petite pouliche? I told you that night in the forest that I would protect you, and I will.”

A look of uncertainty flashed across her face.

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