Prince of Wolves: Autumn Court #3 (Rosethorn Valley Fae Romance) Page 7

It hurt, but he was right, she didn’t have any magic. She would always be easy prey in Faerie.

  “I’m going to put wards around your apartment,” he went on. “It’s not fool-proof, but it will help.”

  She let him continue to muse, even as she disappeared into her own thoughts.

  Varik hadn’t spoken to her at all about last night. It had seemed so magical, but neither of them were wearing vines on their hands this morning. There was no bond.

  She had spent the whole day trying not to overthink things and just have fun.

  But it was hard not to accept that things had just turned a corner.

  Varik was obviously very proud of his work and his reputation. Yet he had just gone to battle for her, even if it was only with pixies.

  And it sounded like he was very much prepared to go to war with much worse things - all to buy her time in this realm.

  Whatever his feelings were about last night, Varik was showing her with his actions how important she was to him.

  Now it was up to her to decide how she felt. Because it was clear they couldn’t fight the forces of Faerie forever. No matter how tough Varik was, there were only two of them against the practically limitless resources of the Winter Court.

  If they managed to find a way to stay in the mortal realm, they might have some sort of life together, if he was willing to give up everything.

  In Faerie they would be separated permanently.

  Magic or no, Ashe’s parents would go right back to using her as a pawn for their political agenda. They would never allow her to be with the bounty hunter.

  Choosing to go back now would mean turning her back on a new life, where she could be normal and have freedom.

  Choosing to stay might doom them both.

  “Everything okay, Ashe?” Varik asked.

  She nodded, afraid that if she spoke, he would hear the despair in her voice.

  “I will do whatever it takes to keep you here,” he assured her. “We made a bargain. And I never go back on my word.”

  A bargain…

  She wondered suddenly if that was all it meant to him.

  Was he just keeping his word and buying her a little time, and having a bit of fun with her while he was at it?

  He was pulling into the little parking lot before she had enough time to really think it over.

  They raced up to the apartment, and she watched as Varik and Ronan investigated the front door.

  Seeming satisfied, Varik opened the front door, motioning for her to stay where she was as he and the pup slipped inside.

  She looked down at the little yard as she waited.

  Everything looked so peaceful. It seemed exceptionally odd that anything untoward could be happening.

  A moment later Varik came back for her.

  “Coast is clear,” he said. “For now, at least.”

  She nodded.

  “Would you fix us more pie and coffee while I put up wards?” he asked. “Pixie bites can leave you light-headed if you don’t fortify afterward.”

  She felt a flash of gratitude.

  Sure, he had asked her to go get busy in the kitchen while he did important work securing her perimeter - such as it was.

  But he had also offered her the dignity of a task in the face of the magical work he was about to do - work she could not help with.

  “Of course,” she said.

  He brushed his lips across her forehead and then headed to the door, pulling threads of magic from his fingertips.

  She got coffee started with Ronan at her heels.

  “Were you hoping for a treat?” she asked him.

  He sat down and smiled at her, his non-floppy ear swiveled toward her.

  She grabbed last night’s dinner from the fridge, then pulled out a few nice chunks of chicken and put them on a plate for him.

  The pup wagged his tail and pounced on his meal.

  The sight of his pure bliss was enough to renew her optimism.

  We can figure this out, somehow. I’m not going back.

  There has to be a way.

  Varik hummed softly as he set the wards across her door.

  She glanced back at him to see the magic glimmer like spiderwebs in the morning dew, labyrinths of spells all crafted to protect her.

  But was he protecting her out of love, or just securing his quarry?

  13

  Ashe

  A few hours later, Ashe was baking and feeling lonely.

  Varik had insisted that he and Ronan needed to go outside and scout. He’d told her that if something big got close enough to activate the wards on the apartment it was already too late. Which didn’t do much to ease her mind.

  Uncertain of what else to do with herself once they were gone, Ashe had plugged the ingredients she had on hand into a cooking site on the phone, and realized she could make a cake.

  The kitchen was now a wreck, but the batter was in a pan in the hot oven and in theory, she would soon have something lovely that she had made by herself.

  If only she had someone to share it with.

  She sighed and began to clean up her mess.

  It had been so much more fun to clean up together last night.

  Of course, thinking about that led to her thinking about what had happened afterward, which was much better than cleaning.

  But there would be no repeat tonight. Varik was convinced he needed to sleep outside again to protect the perimeter.

  And he was right to do it.

  The pixies were only the beginning. Ashe had been at faerie court long enough to know pixies were used as advance scouts. More capable and threatening adversaries wouldn’t be far behind.

  It called into question whether her bargain with Varik had been worth anything at all. Even if she wanted to stay in the mortal realm after her two days were up, the choice might not actually be hers to make, unless she wanted to spend her whole life on the run.

  She finished the last of the cleanup, then wandered over to one of the bookshelves to see what Willow liked to read.

  There was a pretty good collection, including some stuff that had made its way into the Fae realm. Most of them were worn enough that Ashe was confident they had been read for pleasure, not just for school.

  There were also graphic novels and shelves of romances, including a whole section of historical romance and another of paranormal.

  She wondered what the real Willow must be doing right now in Faerie. Surely, she was interested in learning more about the world that had been denied to her. And she was finally among others like herself.

  Ashe had spent her life as a non-magical person in a magical world. But at least that wasn’t unheard of. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Willow to have magic in this world, and never have a chance to share it with anyone.

  She wandered to the wall with the photos and gazed into the laughing eyes of her other self.

  I will fill your place with as much dignity as I can, she promised silently.

  But she wasn’t sure how to do that. Willow looked so relaxed. Would Ashe ever feel that at home in this place?

  A knock at the door startled her.

  “Varik?” she called.

  But no one answered.

  She took a step toward the door, then remembered the danger and froze in her tracks. Calling out like that had been a stupid mistake. Whoever was out there knew she was inside. And they had already gotten by Varik somehow.

  “Willow, it’s Cressida,” a familiar voice called, and then there was another knock.

  Ashe sighed in relief and opened the door to reveal her manager from the Barry White Diner, who was leaning against the frame.

  “Come in,” Ashe said.

  Cressida strode inside with an easy grace, like the apartment belonged to her and Ashe was the guest.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Ashe offered.

  “Nah, I’m good,” Cressida said, leaning on the kitchen counter. “What’s cooking?”

  “I, u
h, thought I’d bake a cake,” Ashe said.

  “Hm,” Cressida said.

  Ashe wondered wildly what was going on. Were Willow and Cressida friends? Was this a normal thing? Was she stopping by expecting to pick something up? Was Ashe in trouble at work?

  Cressida’s lean form lolled carelessly against the counter and her relaxed, alert expression gave nothing away.

  “Look,” Cressida said. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know you’re not Willow. And I like Willow, she’s a good friend.”

  Ashe opened her mouth and closed it again.

  “You can try to fake it,” Cressida said. “But it will probably just piss me off. You may as well come clean with me and tell me where my friend is.”

  Ashe gazed at the other woman.

  Cressida gazed back at her, unblinking.

  “You’re not going to believe me,” Ashe said at last.

  “Try me,” Cressida said.

  “Willow was a changeling,” Ashe said.

  “What do you mean, like the fairies took her away?” Cressida asked, a crease in her forehead. “Like in some picture book?”

  “Yeah,” Ashe said, impressed. “Exactly like that. Except that it was me they took away from here. And they left her in my place. So she was the real fae all along.”

  “I knew there was something different about her,” Cressida mused. “She wasn’t a witch, but I could still smell the magic on her.”

  “You could what?” Ashe asked.

  “There’s a lot more going on in Tarker’s Hollow than you might think,” Cressida said, winking at her. “And clearly a lot more going on in Rosethorn Valley than I ever thought.”

  Ashe nodded, wondering again what Cressida’s deal was. Maybe she was some sort of mortal bounty hunter, trained to sniff out her prey.

  “So why are you here?” Cressida asked plainly.

  “I was… useless where I come from,” Ashe admitted. “I came here to escape and then I realized what I was.”

  “Where is Willow?” Cressida asked.

  “She’s in Faerie,” Ashe said. “At least I think she is.”

  “So you didn’t do anything to her?” Cressida asked.

  “Of course not,” Ashe said. “She was running there as I was coming here. We crossed paths in the parking lot of the diner.”

  “The night with the bear…” Cressida mused.

  She looked somewhat relieved, but she was still frowning.

  “So why are you here?” she repeated.

  “This is my life,” Ashe said, wondering how someone so observant could have missed the obvious.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Cressida asked.

  “This life - the family, the apartment, the job - all of it was mine,” Ashe said, building confidence. “It was stolen from me. And I’m taking it back.”

  The timer went off and Ashe grabbed oven mitts and wrestled the pans out of the oven, managing not to burn herself or drop the cake. She set the pans on top of the stove to cool, took off the mitts, and turned back to Cressida, who was observing her with dancing eyes.

  “What?” Ashe asked.

  “Nothing,” Cressida said. “It’s just funny to see someone who looks so much like Willow be so damned awkward around a stove.”

  Ashe laughed, and Cressida chuckled, too.

  “What’s your real name?” Cressida asked.

  “Ashe,” she replied.

  “Nice to meet you,” Cressida said.

  “Nice to meet you too,” Ashe replied.

  “Well, Ashe, you seem like a nice person,” Cressida said. “And I’m going to be honest with you. You say this life was stolen from you, but you’re wrong. This life didn’t just happen, it was built. And it was built by someone else. That person has friends and feelings and she deserves to have her life back if she still wants it. She worked hard on it.”

  “But—” Ashe began.

  “You’re mad that someone stole your life from you after you spent a few days in it,” Cressida went on. “Imagine how you’d feel if someone took it after twenty-seven years.”

  She had a point.

  “What am I supposed to do?” Ashe asked, feeling defeated.

  “That’s the fun part,” Cressida said. “You get to decide for yourself now.”

  That was a strange new idea.

  Cressida straightened.

  “I’ve gotta go,” she said. “But if you see Willow, please tell her we miss her.”

  “I will,” Ashe promised, as her new friend left.

  “And tell your boyfriend in the backyard that we don’t allow pets at the diner,” Cressida added over her shoulder.

  14

  Varik

  Varik watched the sun go down over Ashe’s building from under the sycamores. The woman from the diner had come and gone without any trouble. He’d thought about confronting her, but she seemed to like Ashe, and was clearly not a threat.

  Varik sighed and looked around one more time. He had done all he could, setting wards both in the apartment and around the building and surrounding lot. He had even set a couple of magical traps in the nearby woods, that would alert him if anything not of this realm came near.

  There was nothing left to do now but try to sleep a little and hope that maybe the fae realm would forget their princess.

  It was too much to hope for though, and he knew it.

  Ronan whimpered at his feet and he scooped the pup into his arms.

  “You’re okay, buddy,” Varik reassured him, nuzzling the fuzzy little head.

  Given the circumstances, Varik knew it was safest for him to shift and sleep in his wolf form. His heightened senses would act as another layer of security.

  Maybe the little one would also enjoy a chance to rest in his other form for a change.

  Varik carried him behind the trees and rhododendrons, where the back of the yard met the wooded hillside. He found a sheltered spot that was still in view of Ashe’s apartment.

  The yellow light shone, warm and bright, from her windows and he felt his heart drawn to it, to her.

  But he wanted to protect her more than he wanted to be near her, so he sighed and placed Ronan on the mossy ground.

  Then Varik closed his eyes and sank into his wolf shape.

  Instantly, the world around him visually diminished, and the scents and sounds expanded to take up his consciousness.

  “Da,” Ronan chuckled from the ground between his paws.

  Varik wasn’t the only one who had shifted. Ronan was no longer a wolf cub. He was a fae baby.

  Varik smelled the sweet, clean scent of his boy and felt the little hands tangling in his fur.

  Tomato-red happiness lit him up from inside, and he lowered his lupine head to lick Ronan’s chubby cheek.

  The baby boy squealed with delight.

  For about the thousandth time, Varik wished he could be in his fae form at the same time as the child, so he could hold him and talk to him.

  But this was his punishment.

  Guilt had driven him half-mad after he had exchanged Willow for Ashe those twenty-seven years ago.

  When the crown of Winter had asked him to make another switch, he had been unable to do so. The queen had been so angry that she chose to punish him. He’d been given charge of Ronan, the fae baby he’d refused to exchange for a mortal.

  But it came at a price. Little Ronan could only be in his fae form when Varik was a wolf, and vice-versa.

  He had suffered the curse for years, but the end was finally in his grasp. The Winter Court had promised to lift the spell in exchange for the return of their princess.

  In truth, the hope of freedom was the only thing stopping him from stealing the girl away and living on the run here in the mortal realm with her.

  He had no doubt he could make it work.

  But Ronan deserved better.

  The poor babe had been stuck as a pup most of the time for a quarter of a century. Varik could seldom allow him to be Fae, and when he wa
s, he had only a wolf to keep him company. If the curse wasn’t lifted, he would never grow up, never have control of his own form. He might even grow to be feral, to give into his wolf side completely, if the unnatural aspect of the curse began to set in.

  Ronan plucked a blade of grass and gazed at it in wonder as Varik protectively curled his big furry body around the little one.

  It was hard not to think about Ashe now.

  He had a job to do.

  And Ronan was his living reminder of the only fae contract he had ever failed to complete.

  If the Winter Court sensed that he had grown attached to Ashe, what would they do to punish him if he didn’t drag her back?

  He only knew it would be vicious, and that it would likely hurt Ashe as much as it hurt him.

  He couldn’t allow that.

  He loved her.

  And he knew she had feelings for him. But for how long?

  She doesn’t even know what I did…

  Bitter shame rose in his chest.

  He had not yet told her that he was the one who switched her at birth, changing her destiny and Willow’s.

  What will she think when she finds out?

  It would hurt her, that much he knew. He could not let her find out from someone else. And it was her right to know, he could not keep it from her any longer.

  He had to tell her himself, though it might kill him to see her reaction.

  If she doesn’t want me anymore, that’s her right…

  But they could never build anything lasting without her knowing exactly what kind of man she was dealing with.

  He would tell her in the morning. It was decided.

  Ronan relaxed his little body against Varik’s furry belly, as if he too felt more at peace as soon as this important decision had been made.

  I will help you somehow, Ronan.

  If only I could find a way to bring her back, lift the curse, and still stay with her.

  Somehow…

  15

  Varik

  Varik awoke just before dawn at the silent urging of his traps being sprung.

  He was up on all four feet in an instant, standing protectively over the still sleeping babe. He lifted his snout and scented the air - someone from Faerie was heading their way.