Page 84 of Through Battle and Blades (The Wolf Queen 2)

“I’ll leave a lamp burning here, so if you wake up in the night, you’ll know where you are,” Weyland said, setting it down on the table between the two beds.

I’d expected the children to want more of the story, but when we got out into the hall, I felt Weyland’s eyes upon me, and I realised he was intrigued as well. The two Wolf Maidens, Dane and I had stumbled out of the cave, back into the citadel to find the three of them had been looking for us. Selene and Orsha had been babbling about what they’d seen of the Maiden, but me? I was quiet, still and that had drawn my pack’s attention.

“So why were you telling the children a story about Queen Eleanor?” he asked me, reaching up and grabbing my arm when I went to brush past him, then drawing me closer when I remained quiet. “Darcy? What’s going on?”

I told him about Pepin, about her declaration and advice, about how I’d been able to find the cave without help, stumbling into the Mother’s cave. But then as I’d knelt at her feet, ready to receive all of her wisdom, all I’d got was the old queen’s story.

“That… It doesn’t help us to understand how to use your powers at all. Damn, Pepin! Eleanor didn’t even take a pack. She went across the border, sued for peace and part of the terms were she would become the Granian queen.”

“What?”

I searched Weyland’s face then for more answers, because what he had just said was something I’d never heard before.

“Don’t they teach you that in your Granian history books?” he said, his smile twisting. “Don’t they like to acknowledge that within the royal lineage of Grania lies filthy wargen blood?”

Girls all over Grania… Just like you… I heard Nordred’s words again, echoing in my head.

“I thought you knew. It’s how we were able to explain you. Somewhere in your family tree is someone who intermarried with one of the queen’s get. A small fragment of wargen blood, passed down over and over until…”

Me. Until me.

“So why is she showing me this?” This was more plea to a goddess than question for Weyland. “Why am I seeing the queen’s story? We know what happened.” I glanced up at him with a frown. “I could read one of your history books and get the truth of that in a few hours.”

“You’ll have to go back again, into the cave. Visions from the gods are always hazy.” He shook his head. “Everything I’ve ever read or heard suggests they like to amuse themselves giving us vague prophecies and incomprehensible visions.”

“But not right now.”

We both turned to see Gael standing there.

“She can go down to the caves tomorrow. We all can. But now, we sleep.”

“Now, we got to bed, you mean.” I let out a little yelp as Weyland swept me into his arms. “I’ve had a very particular scenario burning in my mind since the moment we found out you were our mate.”

“I keep thinking at some point you’re going to learn to share your toys,” Gael said with a sigh. “And yet I am constantly disappointed.”

“Oh, how you wound me, brother. Sharing was exactly what I had in mind.”

Did all mothers struggle to disconnect from caring for the children to focus on being here and present for their mates? I did, but not for long. As the two of them laid me down on the bed, our clothes disappearing seconds later, they brought my attention right back to the here and now. Then Axe emerged from the bathroom, a splendid figure clad only in a drying cloth and runnels of water.

“Mind if I watch?” he asked in a low rumble, his fangs flashing in the dim light. “I do like to see you two destroying her with pleasure.”

“Please,” I gasped, leaning forward and claiming his mouth as he drew closer.

42

Late at night, as I slept tangled in the arms of three of my mates, right when my guard was down, she came.

In my dreams I saw a great field of wheat, the golden heads shifting now as a storm built. The sky turned from sky blue to dark, to purple, the crowds roiling above me, and I was helpless to do anything but watch. I felt the wind on my face, tugging at my hair, riffling through the crops. It became fingers, pulling me hither and thither, but without purpose, until she spoke.

Come.

Just one word, but with the logic of dreams I found her presence immediately. A woman stood amongst the field dressed in conventional peasant garb: a drab cotton blouse and skirt. She stared at me with all the weight of her years. She was still young, as evidenced by the lack of grey in her hair, the straightness of her spine, but yet… There was something in her eyes that went beyond the fine lines that had formed at the corners, beyond the pursing of her lips. Thunder rumbled above me, full of a sinister portent I’d never felt before when out under a storming sky. When I was a child, we’d claimed it was Hrist, god of battle, hammering away at his anvil, making more weapons to keep Grania strong, but I didn’t believe that now. I scoured my eyes across the dark masses hanging above us, felt the chill of the coming rain on my skin.

Come.

Her voice was gentler now, and familiar. My eyes jerked down and at the sight of her I took several steps forward without even thinking. Sweet and wreathed in golden light, looking every inch a goddess, there she was.

“Mother?” I said, blinking, blinking, because this woman seemed hazy somehow, like my eyes couldn’t focus on her properly. “Mum?”

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