Page 57 of Wolf's Return
Constance stared after his retreating back, his broad shoulders and dark hair so like his brother’s. And when,if,D’Artagnon returned?What then? The grand hall mocked her and her shoulders sagged. She was no Genevieve. Nor an Erin. The Black Wolf had made his choice, and once again, it was not her.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder, and she turned to meet Erin’s sympathetic gaze. “Gaharet will find him, Constance. He wants his brother back as much as you want your mate.”
Constance choked on the lump in her throat. “I cannot be D’Artagnon’s mate.”
“Really?” Erin’s face expressed her doubt. “Are you sure about that?”
It was tempting to believe the certainty in Erin’s voice. “Wishing it so does not make it real.” She sighed. “I have done what Seigneur Gaharet called me here to do. I should return home.”
Though the thought of returning to her lonely hut in the forest only deepened her misery.
“I’ve seen the way he followed you around, the way he looked at you,” said Erin. “He was so protective of you. He might have been a wolf, but it was pretty hard to miss.”
Kathryn and Bek gathered around her, nodding.
“Gaharet believes it,” said Erin. “And he’s not been wrong yet.”
Constance shook her head. “You do not understand. Monsieur D’Artagnon is a black wolf. Descended from a long line of black wolves. From theoriginalblack wolf. Strong wolves with strong mates. I am not like any of the mates of the black wolves of the past. Nor am I like either of you. There is nothing special about me.”
“Special? Me?” Bek chortled. “I worked in an alehouse. A lousy one at that.”
“I”—Kathryn tapped her chest—“was the subject of gossip at court for my unladylike behavior.”
Erin held up her hands. “Don’t look at me as though I’m anything grand. I may have been an archeologist, but my own mother didn’t consider me high on her list of priorities. If anything, Constance, you are more special than all of us.”
Bek and Kathryn nodded their agreement.
What was Erin talking about?
Erin laid a hand on Constance’s grimoire. “Constance, you are the keeper of all this knowledge. You know the lore of the Langeais wolves better than anyone. And you are a healer. A good one. In the future, healers are some of thehighestpaidprofessionals. You have the gift of foresight, and I bet you are a powerful witch in your own right.”
“But—”
“There’s no but about it, Constance. We all see it in you. And so does D’Artagnon, even if he won’t admit it yet.”
“No. You are wrong. D’Artagnon has no room in his heart for me. If he did he…” She stared at the doorway. “He would have chosen me.”
Erin heaved out a sigh. “He has gone to face Lance on his own to protect Gaharet, hasn’t he?” She rolled her eyes. “Men. If only they would talk about what they’re thinking, we could disabuse them of their stupid notions and set things right.” Erin gently guided her to a seat by the fire. “You are not alone in this, Constance. We’ve all come up against a stubborn wolf that can’t see what’s right in front of his nose.” She pointed at Bek. “Ulrik believed Bek wouldn’t want him because of his past.” She shifted her finger to Kathryn. “Aimon thought other wolves would be a better mate for Kathryn because he was only three years turned. And me? Gaharet was willing to sacrifice his own happiness because he believed it served his pack best. All of them were wrong.”
When Erin explained it like that… Now that she thought about it, Alexandre had fled from Genevieve, not wishing her to suffer the turning. Maybe…
Bek sat down beside her. “Erin’s right, Constance. D’Artagnon’s no different to all our mates.”
“Give him a chance to get it right,” said Erin. “At least wait until the men return.”
“If he does not come to his senses, we can always enlist Anne’s help,” suggested Kathryn. “She helped me force Aimon’s hand.”
“She tried to force Gaharet’s, too. In fact, I suspect,” Erin chuckled, “Anne’s meddling was the real reason you and D’Artagnon went to the farmer’s cottage. She has been rathereloquent about the benefits of a certain pond with a waterfall of late.”
Constance flushed.
“By the look on your face, I’d say it worked, too, just as Anne planned it.”
Constance put a hand to her hot cheek.
“I have fond memories of that pond,” said Bek.
“What are you saying about me meddling?” Anne plonked a plate of food down on the table behind them. “I only ever give things a little nudge in the right direction.”
