Page 5 of Wolf's Return
His hand shifted to Lance. “But Lance, after all these years of his support, of putting my trust in him as an adviser, haslied.At a timewhen honesty and the truth are so imperative. I have always believed both of them to be good men. Loyal pack members. I do not want to think either of them could be guilty of such a thing.”
His brother turned his back on the wall hanging. “Or is it, as someone suggested, a wolf from Ludenwic or further afield? From Rus? Wanting revenge for all that happened centuries ago?”
“I do not believe this is the work of the Ludenwic wolves. Victor would not risk their alliance with us,” said an unfamiliar voice, husky to the point of a harsh whisper.
Intrigued, D’Artagnon turned to the group at the table. Who did that voice belong to?
“The Rus pack? Maybe,” said the voice.
Ulrik?Scars crisscrossed the man’s throat. Scars made not by a sword, but by teeth. From his time in Bretaigne?
Uncertainty flickered across his brother’s face, his shoulders tense. “Maybe. Whoever it is, they possess knowledge of the amulets. The pack split into three so long ago, and the alpha stripped the amulets from all who left. Would either the Ludenwic or the Rus pack remember any of the lore surrounding them?”
D’Artagnon glared at the embroidered figure on the wall. Their traitor was far closer than Ludenwic or Rus. All D’Artagnon had to do was shift and speak his name. Or cross the hall and touch his nose to the wall hanging. Point out the man who had killed his parents and betrayed them all. His brother would then have the answer he craved, though the truth would be a pain all of its own.
Indecision swirled in his gut. Things had seemed so much clearer in the forest, his mind consumed by his wolf and his decisions made on instinct alone. Should he tell Gaharet and risk his brother’s unborn pup growing up without a father?
Gaharet threw up his arms. “I know you are in there, D’Artagnon. What needs must I do to reach you? To convince you to shift?” Gaharet crossed his arms, leaned against the table and scowled.
Movement in the doorway and the scent of freshly baked bread, raw meat and herbs drew D’Artagnon’s eye. A large woman in a flour-dusted apron, her bulk weighing heavy on her knees and a genuine affection brimming in her eyes, shuffled toward him. Her name floated into his mind.Anne.The cook.
She held out a raw deer haunch. “Here you go, D’Artagnon. Sorry it took me so long, lad. I had to send the stable boy out for a fresh kill. I was not expecting to be feeding a wolf. And you look like you could use a good feed. Never fear. Old Anne will look after you now you are back.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “It is good to have you home again, lad.” She placed her hand on her chest. “When I thought you were dead, it near broke this poor old woman’s heart.”
“D’Artagnon, please. Stay.” His brother sighed and gestured at the haunch. “At least until you have eaten.”
His shoulder twinged. A good meal by the warmth of a fire would do no harm. He carefully took the haunch in his teeth. The old woman beamed, then patted him on his head.
D’Artagnon jerked his head back, dropped the meat and snarled. Gifts of food or no, he was no pet. Nor a harmless pup. He bared his teeth and snarled at her again. The fire crackled and spit, loud in the sudden silence in the hall.
Gaharet’s eyebrows shot up. “You are taking your life in your hands there, brother mine.”
Anne stood before him, hands on her ample hips, with a glare so ferocious a seasoned chevalier might balk. D’Artagnon peeled his lips back further.
“Now you hear this, young man.” Anne wagged a plump finger at him. “I will tolerate none of your nonsense now any more than I did when you were a boy. I will grant you some leeway, given all you have been through, but this will be your only warning.”
Haunch forgotten, he crouched, ready to pounce, his hackles raised, his ears flattened against his skull and his growl apromise of violence and retribution. Any hint of the man he was, of the brother he had once been, he had pushed so deep there was little left but wolf.
Do not threatenme, old woman.
With more speed and strength than was right for a woman of her age and bulk, she struck, slapping him across his snout.
D’Artagnon lunged.
He caught a blur of movement from the side, then his brother’s strong hand gripped the scruff of his neck, threw him to the ground and held him there. He thrashed, snarling and snapping at the hand that pinned him to the floor.
“Stop, D’Artagnon!”
The order rolled over him and he fought it, fought against the strength of his brother’s hold. A thick, musky scent filled the air. His brother’s wolf was close, readying for a shift.
Gaharet’s grip tightened. “D’Artagnon,enough! Do not force me to confine you to the training room until you can get yourself under control. I will not have you attacking Anne, nor anyone else here, no matter your suffering.”
His brother was strong. Even in his human form. A true alpha. Still, with all his years spent as a wolf, D’Artagnon could best him. But… The memories of his youth broke through. Of them shifting into their wolves and racing through the forest together. Of plotting against Anne to steal treats from the larder. Training together. Competing for available females. This was Gaharet. Hisbrother.With a snarl, he conceded to Gaharet’s authority and relaxed his body beneath his brother’s hold. The grip on his neck eased, though his brother did not let him go.
Gaharet’s weary sigh washed over him. “This will not do, D’Artagnon. Youmustshift back so we might talk with you. We need to hear what happened, where you have been and why it has taken so long for you to come home.” The hand against his ruff gentled, stroking his fur. “Tell us who attacked you.” Hisbrother released him and stepped back, giving him room. “Shift back. Talk to us. Tell us what you know, and we will hunt this wolf down together.”
D’Artagnon rolled to his feet and locked gazes with Gaharet. He made no effort to bring forth the change.
Gaharet placed his hands on his hips and frowned. “One last time, I am asking you to shift, D’Artagnon. Do not make me order you.”
