“See that you don’t,” Sir Rodney said, hurling a bowl against the open hearth.
Anxious staff members covered their heads as it shattered and then, in a rare display of angry magick, Sir Rodney made the broken pieces turn into small toads to hop away.
Rupert waited a moment, still carefully watching the unusual behavior of his normally even-tempered and benevolent master. Something was definitely wrong. The mere mention of the she-Shadow’s mated status had sent the king of the Seelie Court into a vile explosion.
Small kitchen Pixies still covered their heads, lying prostrate before the king on the stone floor. Why Sir Rodney, who even without his Fae glamour was a dead ringer for the handsome human actor Clive Owen, would have to go to such extremes for any female was beyond his comprehension. From what he gathered at court in the Pixie gossip, Sir Rodney could and had already availed himself of the most attractive Fae and human females… So why was this one she-wolf causing such a stir? There was no plausible explanation. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear his king had been bewitched-but who would be so bold as to commit an act of treason punishable by death or war?
All eyes remained on the king as he flung pots and pans and gave in to a full-blown tantrum. Over fifty Fae staff waited for his next bellowing command with bated breath. Other staff throughout the castle had been scurrying around in a full fright for more than twenty-four hours, attempting to placate their master to no avail.
But Rupert remained steadfast and as still as stone, head lowered but standing upright. Everyone glanced at him, their eyes begging him to say something as Sir Rodney’s most trusted servant. Their terrified gazes sent a unified message; Rupert was the only one in their number who could diplomatically remind their lord what was at stake.
Rupert held back a disgruntled snort. Now was not the time to appear defiant; not when the king was in such a foul temper. One could end up as a gray-haired tortoise, or worse. However, one unequivocal fact remained: egregiously lusting after another man’s wife-especially one who’d befriended you-was just not regal and could start an armed conflict that could last for centuries. It was simply bad form.
Worse, in Rupert’s view, it was beneath the station and honor of his dear friend and master… Lo these many years, it was true that Sir Rodney had quite a reputation amongst the ladies, but a scoundrel he was not! One simply could not make a cuckold of an honest wolf friend by using Fae glamour and still call oneself the Seelie Court king-unheard of! Sir Rodney’s sudden infatuation with the beautiful she-Shadow was simply an unhealthy diversion that had to end.
This truth made Rupert bold; until he got through to his king, he would be relentless, unafraid of the potentially hazardous consequences. Rupert glanced around, taking his cues from the other staff members and from Sir Rodney’s slowly de-escalating tantrum. His winded king was spent; thus only now was it prudent to speak. The closer the time came to the soiree, the worse Sir Rodney’s obsession seemed to become, so he had to act now-three short days before guests were due to arrive-lest his king make a complete fool of himself at the ball.
“Again, forgive me for my ignorance.” Rupert bowed deeply, his attention split between Sir Rodney and the cowering staff. “I will be sure to extend the
Rupert stared at his master’s back, sure that by using the titles of their guests in proper context Sir Rodney would slowly regain his composure enough to realize how imprudent it would be to start a war over a woman he could never hope to win. The Fae Parliament had sided with the Wolf Clans in their ousting of the Vampire Cartel, and the Fae, which had heretofore been fractured into feudal law, could ill afford to make war with two strong wolf packs, let alone their global Federations.
Sir Rodney straightened his spine, lifting his aristocratic chin, and then drew a deep breath as though wresting back his dignity. “I want every one of our guests who is also an important diplomatic ally to have the red carpet rolled out for them. No less than our best is all that I am striving for.” His gaze scanned the assembled staff and then landed on Rupert as he turned to face him.
Both men stared at each other for a moment and then Sir Rodney looked away as though both ashamed and confused by his own actions. Rupert let out a quiet sigh of relief and responded with a satisfied nod. Sir Rodney had clearly gotten his message-the wolves were more than guests, they were indeed critical diplomatic allies.
“Milord… a word,” Sir Rodney’s top advisor said, entering the room and putting away his wand in his robe sleeve.
Rupert remained mute, as did the rest of the staff. Seeming disoriented, Sir Rodney nodded and walked out of anyone’s earshot but his advisor’s.
“Garth…” Sir Rodney stammered, holding both sides of his skull in his palms. “What has besieged me?”
“It is the dark magick, milord,” Garth said with a frown. He extracted his wand from his sleeve, the tip of it still smoldering. “It has now begun to permeate the castle.”
Moving Shogun was agonizing to watch. As his men hoisted his body up onto the gurney in a coordinated, single move, the wail Shogun released scored her mind. The sound of his body realigning once he’d been jostled was like fingernails raking a blackboard. The hair stood up on her neck and a hard shiver passed through her that made her clench her teeth. When Shogun began begging for a bullet, Sasha closed her eyes. Merciful Jesus, she couldn’t watch this again, but she had to.
Seung Kwon and Dak-Ho handed Shogun down from the stage to Hunter and Bear Shadow. Shuddering, Shogun clawed at the padding and sheet as another hard transformation stretch pulled at his spine, cracking it as the remainder of his wolf tail receded. That’s when the man simply broke down and wept. Sasha turned away and took in a few steadying breaths. She had no way to know he’d shift, no way to know any of this would have happened to him. Guilt put tears in her eyes, tears she could ill afford at the moment.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Hunter said, staring at her back-she could feel it.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She didn’t even look at him as she bounded off the stage and ran ahead of the gurney to open the door.
Baron Geoff Montague opened his eyes in his lair. It was almost twilight. An evil smile graced his handsome mouth as three cool-skinned beauties slept soundly, draped over his body. Rumor and gossip always kept the airwaves interesting. So, the Fae had a problem with their glamour while the wolves were hopelessly chasing their tails looking for a murderer of Phoenixes.
Doc gave Sasha a look but didn’t say a word as they loaded Shogun into the back of the ambulance. She knew the questions he had-would she be okay back there alone if Shogun flipped out mid-transformation. Crow Shadow tossed her the shotgun before she closed the door. She caught it with one hand. Her eyes met Hunter’s. Doc opened the cab door and lifted out a shotgun to show Hunter that he was also armed, should there be an issue. Hunter nodded. Then she slammed the door and banged on the interior wall to let Doc know they were good to go.
She prepped the needle like a pro. How many times had she had to do this for Hunter, she wondered. Her eyes met Shogun’s and a quiet understanding passed between them. She placed her hand over his heart and briefly closed her eyes, sending Shadow Wolf healing into his body to help him relax. When he came to, she would dull the ache of torn muscles and ligaments, if he survived… but he’d been transforming for so long. Hunter had never endured something like this.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered and then plunged the needle into Shogun’s arm.
Bumps on the road bounced the vehicle and he cried out in pain.
“Kill me, Sasha,” he whispered through his teeth. “They gave you the gun-use it!”
She shook her head no and backed away to the far wall, now letting the tears she’d held back stream down her cheeks. She watched the first wave of restoration hit him as he arched and raked deep gashes in the metal interior wall. When his legs began to snap back into place she almost dry heaved. His wails became sobs that turned into an insistent plea to be shot until hard convulsions stole language from him.
He was flatlining; she knew the signs. His lips were blue; he was foaming at the mouth. His eyes had rolled
