Shan had heard tales of spirits made flesh, of totems raised by magic, of avenging spirits, but had never dreamed he would see such a thing.
The ghostly wolf lunged at Maldrine’s throat. His weapons couldn’t touch her. His blood stained her silver muzzle. Anala, reborn in light and magic, Anala, more beautiful than ever, lifted her head and howled, drowning out his death cry.
The tunnel roof groaned and a rain of dust fell onto the two panicked guards, who pleaded with Gilliad to retreat before breaking away and running for their lives. The wolf turned on Gilliad, snarling, holding him back from Shan and Jeren.
Fury passed through Shan again, but before he could move, talons sank into his shoulder. The owl’s wings battered his head and face, forcing him back towards the waterfall. He turned, crouching low and sheltering the True Blood girl with his body as, with an ear-shattering crash, the tunnel came down behind them. A wave of dust and debris swept over them and he sprang forwards, carried by the blast, hurling himself into the curtain of water and clinging to Jeren as he would cling to his life.
Chapter Eleven
Jeren awoke to darkness and warmth, the embers of a dying fire the only hint of light. Overhead, the shifting leaves of the forest whispered of sleep. They were not so far from River Holt, not so far as to be safe, but her body ached with exhaustion and the dull fire of her wounds. Her side felt stiff and enflamed. Reaching down, she found expert dressings, and then, a hand, long-fingered and gentle. Shan lay alongside her, moulded against her back, his body the warmth she so desperately needed. She tried to shift away from him, to get up without waking him. The pain was her undoing. She hadn’t expected it but as she moved it was worse than she’d imagined. A gasp escaped her lips. Without a sound to indicate that she had disturbed him, the hand encircled her wrist, gentle despite the implied strength in the grip. He moved, wolf-like in the shadows, wrapping his arms around her again and pulling her back against the length of him. She didn’t struggle this time, wouldn’t have, even if she could have found the strength.
His other hand came up slowly to cover her mouth and she felt the calluses on his long, slender fingers. She sank back against him with a sigh.
“Stay still, little one,” his deep, melodious voice rumbled against her. “We may have escaped, but we aren’t out of danger yet. Besides which, you need to rest and heal.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he didn’t move his hand. Jeren smiled against his skin, a deliciously dangerous thought springing to mind.
“And if you bite me,” he went on as if he could hear her thoughts, “you know we’ll end up fighting.”
He let her go then and she turned carefully towards him until she could bury her face into his chest. She felt his cheek rest against the top of her head and revelled in the sensation of his touch. She lifted her face to his and their lips brushed together, parting, joining. Shan gave a soft growl deep within his throat as he kissed her, a sound of desire and surrender. Heat flared inside her, a wave of joy and love that made her want to laugh out loud. His hand knotted in her hair, cradling her skull at its base and drawing her closer. She broke away first and smiled.
“You and I fight, Shan? It’ll never happen.”
“That remains to be seen.” He watched her solemnly.
Something in his tone made her pause. It was not entirely in jest. For the first time she saw the doubt in his silvery eyes. And something else. Something like concern, or fear. “Where are we going?”
“North. My people will take you in, Scion of Jern. There’s a sacred trust, even if your brother chose not to honour it. Now that he’s dead, it falls upon you to learn to control the powers that destroyed him.”
Dead?
Jeren bit her lip, reluctant to tell him. He wanted revenge so badly, and she had cheated him of it. She knew that, even if Shan believed otherwise. But she had to tell him. She couldn’t lie to him again. She never would.
“He isn’t dead, Shan. I’m the same as ever, so Gilliad is very much alive.”
To her amazement, relief flooded his face. He pulled her back into his embrace as if he would never let her go.
“Thank the Goddess,” he whispered in a rush of air. “I feared you would be changed. I thought—”
“But…but your honour, your revenge—”
He silenced her with another kiss. His lips brushed against hers, tender, as soft as a flake of snow. His hand cradled her face and he gazed deeply into her eyes for the longest moment.
“I think honour here is gained not by taking revenge, but by keeping you safe. And perhaps it is fitting, as you said. He wants you, so I keep you from him, just as he took Falinar from me. If you’ll have me, that is. The difference is, Jeren, I could never hurt you. I’d die first.”
“I know.” She nestled against him, closing her eyes. Shan brushed his hand along her hair, as if savouring the sensation, and stretched out alongside her. Jeren shifted around to make herself more comfortable again. Her head rested on his chest and she listened to his heart, its rhythm so strong, so determined. When she looked up, she found him smiling down at her. His eyes held both joy and desire. She couldn’t doubt that it was love. She returned the smile and her heart buoyed up inside her.
“You should smile more often,” said her warrior.
He was one to talk.
“Make me,” she teased, despite her exhaustion.
Shan dipped his head and his mouth captured hers again. This time the kiss demanded more from her, and she responded again, lifting herself on her elbows, her body aglow beneath his touch. But she moved too quickly and a stab of pain made her wince. Her strength failed her and she wilted, hardly able to hold herself up except by clinging to his shoulders. He murmured her name and kissed her forehead before settling her on the ground again. His braids whispered against her like silk, framing his handsome face.
“I swear to you, I will make you smile at every available opportunity, my lady. But maybe, for now, you should rest.”
She took his hands and pulled them around her, safe at last, comforted by his presence at her side. But inevitably, her thoughts spun back to the tunnels and the luminous form of the wolf. She had to know.
“Was it real? Did Anala really come back?”
He brushed her still-damp hair back from her face, setting her skin tingling beneath his touch. “I think so. And not just Anala.”
“The owl?”
“Falinar’s totem was the white owl. It seems my heart knew more than my mind when I called your owl ‘little sister’.” He stroked Jeren’s cheek then, as if he could hardly bear to stop touching her. “It seems my heart is much wiser than the rest of me. Now rest, heal. Don’t waste your energy talking to me.”
Jeren had to smile. She couldn’t help it. Well, he had promised to make her smile, and Shan always kept his promises.
But he was right. He had treated her wounds, probably saved her life. She had no memory of their escape after the falls, no recollection of him carrying her to safety or performing triage. But he must have. He saved her.
Waste her energy on him?
“Shanith Al-Fallion, nothing I do with you will ever be a waste.”
The End
Follow the continuing adventures of Jeren and Shan
in Book 2 The Wolf’s Mate
and Book 3 The Wolf’s Destiny.