Red and Her Wolf (Kingdom, #3)

His heart clenched.

There were wolves about, he smelled their woodsy musk. The stench of their mistress lay heavy in the woods, like oily residue it clung to his pelt, reeking of death and decay. Black beady eyes stared at him from within the shadows of the trees; he didn’t need to see them to feel them everywhere. He’d worked for Malvena for centuries; he knew the way her twisted mind worked. The crows were here, they’d found her.

With a huff, he pushed fatiguing muscles to their limits, stretching his limbs to the point of pain, anything to reach her faster.

The light grew brighter, opening like a golden bloom, filling his mind and head. Was she safe? What would he find?

Roaring, he shouldered his way through the half open door, panting like a hound of hell come to devour a soul. His eyes scanned frantically, his nose lifted, scenting the eerie stillness of her home. Memories plagued him, bombarded his thoughts, so that he whimpered remembering the night long ago. The hated memories of seeing his mate curled within her red hood, shielding her body from him.

Calling the unbecoming, Ewan shifted. “Violet,” he screamed, adrenaline flooded his tongue, his throat. Bile worked its way up, like a panicked horse spotting a snake on its path, dread surged within him.

“Violet, where the bloody hell are ye, lass? Answer me!”

He smelled her everywhere, blood so much blood, and yet there was nothing. Like his nose and his eyes worked independent of one another. He turned in a circle, there were wood carved chairs covered in colorful knitted blankets, threadbare rugs, a crackling flame in a hearth. All so peaceful, serene, but his nose knew truth. Violence had happened here.

He ran through the small cottage, following the confusing miasma of scents. Blood and sunshine. Where was she? There were three rooms, each white, each bare; with nothing to distinguish one from the other. All empty. Each time he opened a door, his heart pounded harder.

“Violet, lass, I ken yer around. Shew yerself,” he said, brogue becoming so thick it was nearly unintelligible. Madness swirled through his veins, blanketed his vision. So close, closer than he’d been in years. He’d not be denied now.

He threw open another door. A bathroom; and here the blood was thickest. Viscous, coating the inside of his mouth with iron so thick he gagged. Gods above, someone had died. That was the only thing that could account for so much blood.

Then he saw it, a ripple like a wave in a placid pool, in the very bottom corner of the small room. And the moment he spotted the ripple, he felt the undulation of fairy magic move against his chest like a gentle swell. But though he knew magic covered the truth, he could not see through the casting.

“Violet,” he roared, “I’ll not harm ye, lass.” Was his mate dying? Dead? He shuddered, unable to bear thought.

“Hush, now,” a strong female voice shushed him, then a face he could never forget scowled at him. “Ye’ll bring the wolves.”

“Shunned,” he warned, voice trembling with a rumble of violence seconds from erupting, “where is she?” His fingers clenched, unclenched, wanting desperately to smash his fist through something and watch the blood spill.

Miriam looked as if she wanted to say more, her lips thinned, and with a jerk of her head she pointed toward the living room. Immediately the mirage dropped, and the truth of what he’d smelled was now visible to the eye.

A trail of blood, black as night, saturated the carpets. Bloody handprints dotted the walls, as if someone had dragged themselves along.

Ewan jogged, it didn’t take him long before he saw her. He wanted to savor the moment, the first time in years he’d seen her, was within reaching distance of his mate, but he couldn’t. Her lips were blue, her skin lily white.

The blonde hair he’d remembered that curled so effortlessly around her face, now hung limp and crusted with blood. Her hand rested on her breast, not a muscle moved, her chest did not rise, and Ewan’s heart slid to his feet. Suddenly he felt too heavy for his body, but somehow he was able to make his way to her.

A macabre vision of loveliness formed in his eyes. Finally able to give into his weakness, he dropped to his knees, not knowing where to touch her. A strange sound kept flitting in his ear, an annoying moan he couldn’t place.