Page 79 of Wolf's Keep

“Then we find the people who created it!”

With all her knowledge of the past, she would figure this out. “The script, the spell itself, all points to a witch. We track down any witches in the area, and we keep asking until we find the answers.”

He shook his head. “We could search for years and not find anything. I have already spent many months looking—hours poring over tomes, scrolls and manuscripts, everything I could get my hands on. I am no closer to knowing who created the amulet.”

“Then I’ll keep looking.”

Gaharet opened his mouth to say something then closed it, his expression shuttered.

“I am sorry, Gaharet, but… You’re asking me to give up everything I know, everything I love. Would you do that? If I could find a reversal spell, would you come with me? Leave behind your keep, your wealth and your men? Would you turn your back on those that depend on you? On this life you have created? To be with me?”

He swallowed hard, his anguish visible in the downturn of his lips and the sagging of his shoulders. He cupped her face, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I would like nothing more than to follow you wherever you go, Erin, but I could not go with you to your time. I will not forsake my men, no matter how much it would pain me to see you leave.”

And there it was. Erin backed away from him. For all he professed she was his one and only, she did not come first in his list of priorities. She knew what that felt like. Had experienced it many times over, playing second fiddle to her mother’s boyfriends. No more than a shoulder to cry on for the woman who should’ve placed her in the center of her world. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, be that person again.

“I can’t be your wife, Gaharet, or your mate. I have to go home.”

He reared back as though she’d struck him. “Erin—”

She turned away from him, tears threatening to fall, her chest squeezing tight.

“There is a witch living close to here,” he said, his voice toneless and flat. “In all likelihood, she knows nothing of us or the amulet, but if to leave here is what you truly wish, I will take you to her.”

She met his eyes, jerking her head in a nod, not trusting herself to speak.

“The others will be here soon.”

With a final anguished glance at her, he stalked past a stunned Ulrik. He pulled his hauberk over his head, grabbed his sword, and without another word, stepped into the clearing. Ulrik stared at her for a long moment, before following Gaharet.

Erin closed her eyes, a stray tear sliding down her face. Now more than ever, she needed to go home.

* * * *

Gaharet stepped out of the trees, a pain in his chest he had not felt since he had lost his brother. Did the intimacy they had shared count for nothing? Didhecount for nothing? He was not some poor peasant farmer, offering her a life of poverty and hardship. Yet she would leave him? After he had offered her love? The one thing she professed she would wed for. She would reject his betrothal, refuse to be his mate?

His hand fisted around the grip of his sword so tight his knuckles were white. He had finally found the woman that could give him the love he so desired, and he was not enough for her. She would leave him, and he could not follow. Gaharet would give his heart, his soul, his everything to this woman to keep her by his side, but he could not, would not, abandon his people, his pack. He had watched his father do that very thing after his mother’s death, retreating into his grief. Seen first-hand the havoc it wreaked and vowed never to do the same.

He wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. Take up his sword and hurt someone. Rip into his enemies with teeth and claws. He tamped down a growl, his beast fighting for control, wanting to tell her she was his and she would not, could not, leave him. He would bite her, turn her. She would need him then. Need his help to accustom to her new nature, to help her train her wolf. She would have no choice but to stay.

He shook his head. No. He would not force his nature on her, on anyone. Not unless there were no other options. He would take her to the witch. There was no guarantee she would have the answer. They could search the whole county, find every witch that lived, and still not find what Erin sought. It would, however, give him time, and he would use it to do everything in his power to convince her to stay.

“Stop!”

Gaharet froze.

Ulrik came to stand beside him. “Can you smell that?”

Gaharet lifted his nose to the breeze. Pine, damp forest and earth and yet… He sniffed again. Faint, beneath the wet wood scent, a hint of a familiar and deadly floral note. He nodded, raising his sword.

“Erin, go into the trees. Stay out of sight.”

Her face paled, and she retreated, hiding behind a large beech tree.

“Wolfsbane?” Ulrik drew his sword, eyes scanning from left to right.

Gaharet nodded. “Wolfsbane.” The curse of his kind. No wonder those they had lost were half-shifted when they died.

He scanned the clearing. At first, he saw nothing. Then his eyes picked out a ring of disturbed grass. He edged closer. His knuckles rippled, coarse hair sprouted and his hand began changing without him willing it. He jerked back, and the shift halted, reversing until his hand returned to human.

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