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Prince of Wolves: Autumn Court #3 (Rosethorn Valley Fae Romance) Page 2
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Varik had readied a spell and weapon, and prepared himself to take out the burly bear by any means necessary.
But then it had disappeared as suddenly as it appeared.
And Varik was left with nothing but confusion, and the sinking feeling that there was more going on here than he understood.
But none of that mattered. He might have missed one shot at her, but the competition was gone, and his quarry was still in sight. The job was still on.
Ashe was well-ensconced in the diner now, a man knelt to touch her knee.
Varik was impressed when she didn’t flinch.
Ashe of the Winter Court had not been raised to be touched by commoners.
But she held herself in perfect control, the ugly fluorescent lights gleaming fetchingly in her dark hair, despite the few stray leaves collected there.
He felt an odd pang of something akin to jealousy, though he had no idea why he wouldn’t want anyone to touch his quarry. He had never even laid eyes on her before tonight.
Something tugged at his boot.
“Ronan,” he said firmly.
The wolf pup let go of his bootstrap, and looked up at him in puppyish reproach.
Varik smiled in spite of himself.
Ronan gave a little yap and grinned up at him, one ear up and the other still flopped down, giving the wolf pup an eternally inquisitive look.
He had been very frightened of the bear. But now he was bored again already. He had a short attention span.
“We have to be patient, little buddy,” Varik told him.
Ronan’s jaw snapped shut and he observed Varik like he was listening hard. And also like Varik might be about to produce a treat.
Varik looked past the pup, to the parking lot, where Ashe was getting in the car with the man from the diner.
“Let’s go,” he said, striding off.
He could hear the pup leaping after him, nails clicking on the asphalt.
The car was a pathetic wreck of a thing. But that would make their work easier. Varik only hoped it wasn’t going any great distance.
He slipped the compass from his pocket and held it up.
An icy weather vane with a tiny ice mermaid on top lifted from it and spun as if there were a harsh wind blowing.
The mermaid pointed in the direction the car was moving.
Varik walked after it, taking his time.
It would have been over much faster if he just let himself shift into his wolf form and gave chase. But that would cause its own issues.
Plus, it did no good to draw attention to himself. He had learned the hard way that big guys who had wolf cub pets and were a little too good-looking to be human could get hung up in unpleasant conversations when they let themselves be noticed. It was best to move like mortals, with plodding slowness.
The last thing this town needed was a giant wolf on the prowl.
The pace was probably best for the pup as well. His legs were short and Varik would end up carrying him in his satchel if the walk went on for too long.
But for now, Ronan was happily scampering along beside him. As always, the cub’s happiness called to his own and Varik relaxed a little.
Ashe couldn’t be going far, if someone else was driving her. They would find her soon, and be back in Faerie in time for breakfast.
He tried not to think about his prize for this quarry.
“Never count your chickens before they hatch,” he advised Ronan.
Ronan glanced up at him with his pink tongue hanging out of his mouth roguishly, as if to say that no one could stop him from counting chickens.
The mermaid on the compass swiveled to point him down a tiny suburban street.
“Thanks, babe,” he told her.
She winked at him dewily.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he warned her.
But she kept smiling and pointing.
Even the masthead on his enchanted compass wasn’t afraid of him tonight.
“Have I gone soft?” he asked the pup.
But Ronan was chasing a piece of trash that had blown off the street and paid him no mind.
“Put that down, Ronan,” he said firmly.
The pup scampered back, tail between his legs.
“It’s okay, bud,” he told it.
After a while, the mermaid swiveled again, and he found himself standing in front of a grocer’s shop with a CLOSED sign in the window.
Two windows with pretty flower boxes faced the street from the second floor.
As he studied the windows, wondering if someone lived over the shop, a light flicked on, flooding them with yellow warmth.
“Gotcha,” he whispered, clicking the compass shut.
It was odd, Varik had always been a gifted tracker, able to pick up on the smallest trace of his prey. But somehow, he could sense this girl’s presence, even without the compass. As if a strange sort of gravity drew him nearer to her.
The pup whimpered.
“Okay, Ronan,” he said sympathetically. “You can have your dinner now. We need to wait a little while anyway.”
He slipped into the backyard of the little shop.
A stand of lumpy sycamores and leggy rhododendrons lined the back of the grassy area. It was a perfect hiding spot.
He patted his satchel where he kept a supply of jerky, and Ronan danced beside him, ready for his meal.
3
Ashe
Ashe observed the inside of the apartment in darkness for long minutes before daring to turn on the lights.
But it seemed that the changeling, whom everyone called Willow, lived alone, and it was safe for Ashe to make herself at home here.
She flicked the electric switch by the door and was rewarded with a wash of warm light. When her eyes adjusted, she saw the place was crowded but clean.
The walls were lined with unmatched bookshelves, stacked and stuffed with volumes. Some were leather bound and lovely, others were dog-eared paperbacks.
Several area rugs marked out the “rooms” of the open space. A traditional navy and red rug was in the living area and a soft white tufted thing was under the queen-sized bed by the two windows.
A tiny kitchenette stood in the near corner, and behind it a door led, she assumed, to the bathroom.
Bowls of fruit and potted plants covered every surface of the kitchen. More plants hung from the ceiling near the windows.
The whole layout was as cozy as it was efficient.
Her eyes caught on the closet and dresser on the far wall of the bedroom area. She moved toward them in relief. Her gown was torn and uncomfortable, and she certainly couldn’t fit in with it in this realm.
She opened the closet to find a collection of white blouses and red skirts similar to what Willow and the servants in the diner had been wearing. Those must be for work.
She pulled open a dresser drawer and found a pair of silken trousers and a thin sleeveless chemise with the words Sleeping Beauty across its chest.
These must be what passed for sleeping garb in this world.
She grabbed them and headed to the bathroom.
It had a toilet, sink and a tall glass box with faucets.
She was used to a luxurious soaking bath, but figured that she could clean herself off well enough in that box.
She stripped down, trying not to look in the mirror.
It would be an odd sensation to see her own face for a while.
I have no reason ever to see her again, she told herself. Willow will enjoy life in faerie. She will be a princess, and never want for anything again. And I will simply slip into her life here.
She played with the faucets until it was raining down warmly in the glass box.
Willow had a wealth of scented bathing products.
Ashe tried them all and finally emerged feeling decadent in her silky sleeping costume.
She glanced at the kitchen, knowing she should probably eat something.
But she was exhausted, and the bed called to her.
>
The near bedroom wall was festooned with snapshots and Ashe looked at them on her way past without thinking.
She was in most of them.
Or at least she appeared to be in them. She knew it wasn’t really her, but the resemblance was uncanny.
The Fae created changelings for all sorts of reasons. And when they swapped a fae babe for a mortal one, the fae child physically transformed into an exact duplicate of the mortal babe, so that the human parents would not suspect a thing.
If Willow were here right now, her own parents would not be able to tell which of them was which by sight.
Another pang reminded Ashe that they were really her own parents.
She searched the wall for answers about the life that had been stolen from her.
There were pictures of Willow with a group of other young women doing various fun things outdoors. There were photos of her in a black gown with a strange black hat with a golden tassel hanging down. There was a photo of her in her work uniform outside the diner.
And in the center was a photo of Willow outdoors with a happy smile on her face. A boy who looked an awful lot like her was next to her on a park bench. And behind them were two smiling adults.
“Mother and Father,” Ashe whispered reverently.
Her own parents had never smiled that hard. And they certainly weren’t up for outdoor romps with Ashe and her brothers.
Even in their portraits, they were always frowning. And her mother and father were in separate portraits, hung on opposite sides of the palace’s gargantuan dining room.
Something about the warmth and simplicity of this casually happy image Willow had chosen as the centerpiece of her pictures made Ashe smile too, and feel a hungry little ache for the life that had been taken from her.
Funny, she hadn’t expected to find anything about Willow’s life to be better than the one she had known in Faerie.
She flicked the lights off, headed to Willow’s soft bed and climbed in. Eventually, she would have to start thinking of these things as her own. But that would come with time, and she had all she needed.
Though she had expected to toss and turn she felt herself drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
She awoke sometime later, in almost total darkness, her heart pounding.
Someone was in the room with her - she could sense it.
There was the sound of tiny claws on the hardwood.
She felt around for the switch of the lamp at her bedside.
It clicked on at last to reveal a puppy sitting on the floor beside her bed.
She sighed in relief.
“I didn’t know Willow had a puppy,” she told the little creature. How had she missed that? It must have been sleeping when she came in.
It cocked its head like it was really listening, causing one ear to flop up while the other stayed down. It looked like one of the guard dogs kept in her court back home.
“Come here,” she said, scooping it up.
It snuggled into her arms, warm and soft. Maybe it had just been hiding from her when she came in. It’s sensitive little nose probably knew right away that she wasn’t the real Willow.
Though she hadn’t noticed a water bowl, or pet food, or anything else that pointed to a puppy.
A pink tongue swiped her nose and she laughed in spite of herself.
Something drew her eye to the shadowy corner of the room.
A man sat in a chair, observing her.
He was long and lanky, with dark hair and the chiseled jawline of the Fae. His dark eyes glittered.
Ashe instinctively clutched the pup closer.
“Who are you?” she demanded, in what she hoped was a confident authoritative tone. “What are you doing in my house?”
“This isn’t your house,” he replied slowly and deliberately.
She felt a tingle of awareness at his deep voice, though she should have been frightened.
“Yes, it is,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.
“It’s not your house and it’s not your life,” he said, standing. “Let’s go, Princess.”
He held out his hand, and for a moment she wondered if she wouldn’t just follow him to the ends of the earth. What had come over her? Was he using some sort of spell? She didn’t think so.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.
A sympathetic expression appeared on his handsome face and he sat on the bed.
Willow was indignant.
The pup wiggled out of her arms and went to him, curling up half in his palm, as if he were an old god.
“I know it hasn’t been easy for you,” the man said gently. “But you don’t belong here.”
“I don’t belong anywhere,” Ashe heard herself say. “But this is my home now. Go chase the real princess and leave me alone. That bear fae took her back across the veil tonight. She won’t be coming back here.”
“You’re coming with me, Ashe,” he said. “You can come quietly, or I can drag you kicking and screaming. But like it or not, you’re coming.”
She raised her hand to slap him.
Quick as a thought, he caught her wrist in his huge hand.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said softly, looking away.
But all Ashe could do was stare at him, lips parted.
Against every instinct, bolts of desire coursed through her veins at his touch.
“Please,” she murmured, unable to remember what she was pleading for.
4
Varik
Varik let go of Ashe’s wrist but his pulse kept pounding in his ears at her touch.
He felt sorry for the changeling girl, he really did.
But this was something else altogether. Hot lust licked at his very soul, and he had to close his eyes just to focus.
What was happening to him?
“I’ll make a bargain with you,” he heard himself say.
“I’m listening,” she replied.
Don’t do this, Varik, his smarter side advised. You could drag her back to Faerie right now and claim your prize.
But his heart was insistent.
Because while it was true that he’d never before set eyes on the woman who stood before him, he’d met her once, when she was just a baby. And he’d changed her life forever
Twenty-seven years ago, the Queen of Winter had ordered him to exchange her newborn daughter for a mortal babe. He’d taken the true Winter Princess to this very town, and come back with a human baby who would grow to be the woman who stood before him right now.
On the Queen’s orders, he had stolen this normal life from Ashe, and he had felt the guilt of it ever since.
Now both women were irreparably changed by their life circumstances.
Because of his actions, Ashe had been raised as a pampered Winter princess. She would not last in the mortal realm for a day. He was in no danger of losing the bargain he was about to propose.
Besides, he knew that the Winter Court had unleashed a magical blizzard that would cover Autumn in snow for a week. Even if Ashe was right, and the bear-fae from the parking lot had taken the changeling Willow through the veil, planning to pass her off as Ashe, it would be at least a week before he could make it through Autumn to get to the Winter Court with her. The way would be impassable.
But Varik had a talisman that would take him straight to the Winter gates the moment he invoked it.
Time was on his side.
He had nothing to lose by offering her a deal.
“I will give you forty-eight hours in this realm, so that you can see for yourself that it isn’t your home anymore,” he explained to Ashe. “If you make it that long, and you still want to stay, I won’t stand in your way.”
Her eyes were so solemn as she considered. Though she was mortal, she had been raised by the Fae and was properly wary of bargains.
He felt the first pang of worry that perhaps he had made a mistake.
“Yes,” she said, offering him hi
s hand before he could rescind the offer. “I accept.”
He clasped her small hand in his, feeling that same wave of helpless lust and need.
She leaned toward him slightly, like a flower to the light.
He could already taste her, sweet as cream, soft as air.
Think of the prize…
He pulled back at the last second and raised his palm upward.
Her eyes widened as she saw the blue light dancing in his hand.
“You made a bargain,” she whispered accusingly.
“And this is how I shall keep it,” he told her.
He envisioned what he wanted, held it in his mind a moment, then allowed the power to flow from him.
The light in his hand tightened into an orb.
He closed his palm around it. When he opened it again, he held a magical amulet.
“For you,” he said, offering it to Ashe.
“What is it?” she asked without taking it.
Clever girl.
“An orb of enchanted Winter Court ice,” he told her. “When it has melted, your time will be up, and you will be free. The cord that holds it contains a grain of my essence. It will protect you from me until then.”
She held out her hand, trusting.
The Fae could not lie. She knew as much.
He wondered vaguely if she was bound to tell the truth as well. She had been raised in Faerie, but she was still mortal.
She cupped the orb in her hands and studied it.
“You cannot melt it with your heat,” he told her. “That’s part of the enchantment. Only time can shrink it.”
“You are a man of honor,” she told him, gazing up at him again with those hypnotic, dark eyes.
“We will stay close and keep eyes on you,” he warned her.
“Sure, but you’re not sleeping in here,” she told him.
He nodded and rose, holding the pup to his chest, where it panted and grinned at her.
“He’s very sweet,” she said, smiling back fondly.
“This is Ronan,” he told her. “And I’m Varik.”
“Ashe,” she said, touching her chest. “But everyone here calls me Willow.”
I know…
“We will go now,” he said roughly, turning on his heel.