Maiden's Wolf (In Deception's Shadow Book 3) (7 page)

Beatrice held her
breath as she waited for him to take up her offer of friendship. He tilted his
head at her, a questioning look in his eyes.

“Do you not fear
me even a little? I thought humans feared the Elemental races.”

“I am not on
speaking terms with most of humanity.” She grinned. Here was a question she
could answer truthfully for the first time in her life and not fear the fire
and the stake. “Most humans are taught to fear magic as the greatest of evils.
I am different, and know magic itself isn’t evil. I am mage-born, but have only
ever used my magic to heal those in need. I’ve found my magic can make a person
forget. It’s a handy ability.” Waving at him, she clarified. “Not that I would
try that with you, as you are mage-born as well, and I feel that my secret is
safe in your keeping.”

Silverblade
snorted with bitterness. “No, you do not have to fear me telling an acolyte
about your magic.”

“And you are
kind.”

His one ear
flicked in her direction and she could see her admission surprised him a touch.
His look said, ‘She doesn’t even know me. Why does the foolish human think I’m
kind?’

“Ah,” she said
when his one eyebrow arched up in question. “You think I’m not able to judge
the heart of a neighbor I sat across from while enjoying a meal we shared? I
assure you, my magic is capable of studying a person and judging them worthy of
my trust.”

She held the bowl
of stew out to him once again and he took it and then the spoon she handed him.
Once he started to eat, she scooped up a bowl for herself. They ate in
companionable silence, even though she had many more questions she wanted to
ask. There was a tension to the silence, and she could only imagine what was
going through his head. Probably still trying to determine if she could be
trusted. There was nothing she could say to reassure him, only time could aid
him in that. Though she hoped they might become friends in truth.

It would be nice
to have someone to talk to besides her brother and grandmother on the long
journey. That he was a lupwyn and likely knew the fastest way to make the
journey was an added benefit. But that wasn’t why she’d healed him.

When she’d
compared him to a neighbor, it was true.

She frowned in
thought. A very close-mouthed neighbor.

*****

Beatrice was just
finishing her own stew when Silverblade set his bowl down and picked up the cup
of tea she’d slid his way earlier. He sipped it and then looked over the rim at
her.

“Thank you for
healing me and for the shared meal.”

“You’re welcome.”

He fell silent
again and she figured one sentence was about all she’d get out of him for
another candlemark.

But he surprised
her. “I am familiar with the Stonemantle name, though I have not met the Crown
Prince’s bondmate in person.”

Beatrice debated
what to say to keep the lupwyn talking. “I cannot claim close friendship with
Ashayna Stonemantle like I can her two younger sisters. Ashayna has always been
aloof and fearful of magic.”

The lupwyn
grunted and shifted positions to sit cross-legged. This position freed his tail
and her eyes were drawn to where it poked out of the blanket. She noted the
lupwyn didn’t seem to care that he was completely naked. A sneaking suspicion
nagged at her thoughts that he only kept the blanket across his lap for her
sake. As a healer, she wasn’t a modest type, but she was still secretly pleased
he covered up. It allowed her to study the rest of his body without feeling
like she was ogling him.

Hers was a purely
medical interest of course.

Although she was
woman enough to notice his wide shoulders, heavily muscled upper body, and the
shadows and light contrasting his abdomen. Hmmm…the other, less human parts
might take a little adjusting to, but there was nothing about him that made her
want to jump up and run away. And what human features remained were still those
she’d known when he pretended to be a trapper.

She’d always had
a difficult time determining his age. His appearance made him seem like her
contemporary, but his demeanor suggested he was far older. Regardless, she’d
secretly always thought him striking. There was just something about the
combination of his striking blue eyes, defined cheek bones, and that way his
eyebrows arched just slightly in amusement that she found fascinating. She’d often
stared at him far too often when he’d come to share their fire in the guise of
a trapper. He’d even appeared in a few of her dreams.

He sighed again,
causing the fire’s light and the night shadows to dance across his muscles.

“I think your
earlier words about us staying together for a time are wise. I will travel with
you until our paths must part. At the very least, I can see you safely to
lupwyn territory for your aid in healing me.”

“You haven’t
mentioned what happened to you in detail. I know what I saw once we’d merged,
but before that I could only sense your great pain.” She softened her voice. “I
can still feel it, a pain my healing magic can do nothing for, but perhaps my
friendship can. If you need to speak of it, I am here. And if you are not ready
to share your pain just yet, that is okay as well.”

“It is not a good
story and since you’ve known of the acolytes longer than I have, I expect the
outcome of this tale will not be new to you.” He huffed, picked up the fire’s
stir stick, and gave the logs a couple pokes. “Two days ago, Sorntar, the Crown
Prince of the Phoenix, and Shadowdancer, the santhyrian ambassador, reported
that the acolytes possessed some foreign power that allowed them to drain a
Larnkin. Since I know more about River’s Divide than any other Elemental, I was
reassigned to accompany the delegation sent to study Lord Master Trensler and
his other acolytes.”

“Trensler. I
can’t say what he is. But I’ve known since I was a child that he is pure evil.”
Beatrice allowed her eyes to wander to the fire again, giving Silverblade a
moment to decide if he wished to talk about his ordeal or not.

Perhaps if she
told him more about herself, he would open up and share some of that terrible
pain she felt churning beneath his control. It still bled profusely, his grief
welling up and washing against her senses. Outwardly, he showed nothing.

He hadn’t said he
was the only one to escape, but he didn’t need to. Survivor’s guilt was stamped
firmly upon his spirit. Her heart flared in sympathy. He’d lost someone close
to him, someone he loved?

Ah. He very well
may have had a mate who had been accompanying the delegation.

Pain shared was
pain lessened.

“Acolytes
murdered my parents,” Beatrice began. “They would have murdered my brother and
me, too, if it hadn’t been for the quick thinking of my grandmother.”

Even as she
watched the fire, the lupwyn’s sudden distress was so great she knew without
seeing it that his expression had just hardened and the earlier grief morphed
into rage.

“Then we have
that in common.” Silverblade’s voice sent chills down her spine. “For the
acolytes killed my mother as well.”

Her breath
stilling in her lungs, she met his gaze. The pain there caused an old ache in
her heart to flare in sympathy. The acolytes and their master had much to atone
for. While it was unlikely she herself could do much to banish them from this
world, perhaps Silverblade and his people could.

In that moment,
she felt her life’s path change, a subtle shifting in her soul. “I am a humble
healer. My knowledge of magic is limited and based upon what my grandmother
learned from hers. If my gifts can aid you in some way, I share them gladly.”
She glanced back at the fire where it was greedily eating away at the most
recent piece of wood she’d added. If something wasn’t done to stop them, the
acolytes would be a raging fire sweeping across the world, leaving nothing but
ash and barren rock behind. “The acolytes must be stopped no matter the cost.”

“Yes.”
Silverblade made a low, rumbling growl. “The acolytes cannot be allowed to
continue as they have. I will take you up on your offer.”

Beatrice smiled
and held out her hand to the lupwyn. “To old friendships renewed and new
alliances.”

She was secretly
pleased when he leaned forward and grasped her hand in his.

A weight lifted
off her chest the moment their skin touched. It was as if she was glimpsing an
elusive dream for a few precious heartbeats. There was a promise of belonging
in that simple touch.

“We will need to
make plans and be ready to move quickly once you are healed enough to move.”
She stood and dusted off the non-existent dirt from her skirt. “We can’t just
make straight for my grandmother and Roan, either. We will lead the acolytes
right to them.”

The lupwyn
shrugged off the blanket she’d draped over him while he’d slept and instead
secured it around his waist. Beatrice bit back a grin. She’d already seen
everything there was to see, but she liked his willingness to adapt. She
promised to be just as accepting and accommodating of his culture’s ways.

He took a stick
from the fire and began to scratch out the beginnings of a rudimentary map next
to the cooking fire. She stood and joined him, standing at his right shoulder
as he scratched more details into the dirt.

“Do you recognize
what I’m drawing?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.

She craned her
neck up at him and then down at what he was drawing, trying very hard not to
notice the bushy tail sticking out where the skirt-blanket split at the back.
Obviously he didn’t like the feel of the blanket trapping his tail.

“Yes,” she said
and pointed to one line representing a river. “That’s where the river splits
and goes around River’s Divide, the port city.” She pointed again. “That’s the
coast, and these are the main fields in the outer villages where the workers
live. Here is where my grandmother’s hut is.” Beatrice felt a flicker of pain
at all they had to leave behind. It wasn’t like they’d had a lot to begin with.
“This is where we are, and here’s where the acolytes attacked you a day ago.”

Silverblade
nodded, looking pleased she had such a good grasp of the lands surrounding
them. “Do you know where your grandmother and brother are likely to be?”

Beatrice squinted
at the dirt map and then took the stick from Silverblade. She drew a few more
lines expanding his map. “This is where I left them, but they will most likely
be here now. They know to continue on and not double back to look for me. Old
Mother and I discussed what to do if I ever sensed acolytes near and couldn’t
immediately rejoin the wagon for any reason. Once we are further from the
acolytes, I’ll contact my grandmother to let her know I am well. I don’t want
to risk doing so with us still so close to the acolyte-controlled lands.”

“Wise,”
Silverblade said with a nod of agreement. “Once we are further away, you can
contact them and let them know that we will lead the acolytes away and then cut
across country once we’re sure we’ve lost any that might be following us. I see
you have a horse. Even if we ride double, we’ll be able to travel much more
quickly than the wagon.” He frowned at his hands and Beatrice would bet he was
thinking that he’d travel even faster as a full-blooded lupwyn. But he didn’t
voice his thoughts and neither did she.

Together, they
continued to make plans, Silverblade saying that he wanted her to know the
fastest way to lupwyn and santhyrian territories, should something befall him.
She was pleased with the easy camaraderie that bloomed between them. In may
have been, in part, because the lupwyn’s calm efficiency let her focus her
attention fully on the task of memorizing the crude map. Efficiency and
patience—two characteristics she found…appealing.

If all Elementals
were as easy to coexist with as Silverblade, Beatrice imagined she would get
along with the magic-wielders just fine.

One part of his
logical mind questioned his own motives in regards to the human. What right did
he have dragging this fragile youngling into his problems? Even after studying
humans for many moon cycles, he couldn’t claim to fully understand them.
Although he thought he’d learned enough to judge Beatrice’s motives. Even
though she was still far too young and trusting, she would be a loyal ally in
his quest to destroy the acolytes.

And she possessed
a formidable power that not even the acolytes could withstand.

As unhappy as the
realization was, he needed that power.

His mother would
have taken him to task for even thinking about doing something as morally
corrupt as to use the untrained youngling’s power for his own personal
vendetta. He knew this, and it twisted his heart just thinking about it.

And yet, another
part of his mind said the acolytes didn’t care how young one was, anyone with
magic was prey to them. This human—young though he’d guess her to be—still
deserved a chance to fight for her future and her life, and who was he to say
she was too young to make her own decisions. To judge by her attitude and confidence,
she’d been making her own choices for years. If she wanted to help, it was not
his place to tell her no.

These unsettling,
near-polar opposite needs swirled around inside the chaos that was his heart.
Huffing unhappily, he decided that for now, he would take whatever help she
offered and then see her safely out of this mess as soon as possible.

Decision made, he
turned to the next problem. This one was of a more immediate concern.
Silverblade’s Larnkin was still very weak even after Beatrice had attempted to
heal him.

He hadn’t
considered himself a prideful male, but he found himself reluctant to admit he
needed more of her power. If she’d been a lupwyn, her pack instincts would have
guided her to curl up next to him and their closeness would have strengthened
his injured Larnkin. But even if Beatrice had a similar power, she was human,
and they were…odd about such things.

Yet Beatrice
shared very few traits with her fellow humans. At least from what he’d gleaned
of her personality so far. His gaze slid sidelong toward her, calculating. Dare
he try?

Mentally and
emotionally, he knew he needed the contact with another being. Lupwyns were
never truly alone. Even when he’d been physically separated while he scouted
and spied, he still had the mental closeness of his pack bonds.

The simple fact
was that he’d heal faster with another body close to his. But if he tried to
instigate the physical contact natural between lupwyns, she’d probably assume
he wished to mate.

Again,
Silverblade glanced over at the human. The female was sitting and staring into
the fire. The silence was a companionable one, not filled with tension, so he
was content to just sit with her for a time.

She made more tea
and set the metal kettle between them, close enough to the small fire to keep
it warm and then she glanced up at him. “We should be moving on soon, every
moment we stay here increases the risk that the acolytes will find us.”

He happened to
agree with her words. Unfortunately, he was still as weak as a two-day-old pup.
He wasn’t certain if he could manage much more than a slow walk for a
candlemark before he would need to rest again.

Beatrice had
already proven herself surprisingly attentive for a human, so he wasn’t
surprised when she glanced sideways at him, her eyes narrowing. A moment later,
her magic flowed over him.

“There is
something else I can do to speed up your recovery, isn’t there?”

Yes
, he thought silently,
but I somehow doubt you are ready to be
brought into the pack.
Instead he said, “My Larnkin is still weak, even
with the healing and the power-sharing you did earlier. I do not wish to
overtax your Larnkin, but if it would not be an inconvenience, mine would
benefit from more shared power.”

There. He’d said
it. It was neither a lie nor a whole truth, but it was a truth.

Beatrice didn’t
respond with words. Instead she stood up, came around the fire, and then she
sat next to him, close enough that their knees brushed where they sat
cross-legged. With no hesitation at the sight of his large claws, Beatrice
reached out and took his hand in both of hers. In the next moment, her mellow
power raced over his skin and vanished into his body.

It wasn’t the
asking or needing help that made him uncomfortable, it was this—Beatrice’s
absolute willingness to share of herself. As he closed his eyes and breathed in
her scent along with her power, he knew she would be sharing more than just her
power with him in the future.

She was already
sharing something more personal than just power; she was selflessly giving him
a piece of herself and it fit perfectly—smoothly—into the hole where the pack
bonds used to be. It was all he could do to not tuck his head under her chin
and curl into her welcoming mind and body.

The logical part
of his mind knew his pack bonds weren’t really gone, that they would regenerate
once he reunited with his pack in the coming days.

But in the
meantime, she was filling that gnawing hole in his middle, that craving which
had nothing to do with food or mating, but was as important to him as
breathing. As more of the healer’s power flowed into him, he knew her physical
proximity would sustain him until he reunited with his pack.

But once he was,
would he give her up?

Somehow, he
didn’t think he would.