Red and Her Wolf (Kingdom, #3)

“Aye, we’re close.” He nodded, and then giving her a grim smile, stood. “My bones ache this night, I must turn to wolf. It helps me heal properly, shake me if ye need me.”


She watched as his magnificent body became engulfed in a bright flare of white light and suffered a momentary pang of regret. He was much nicer to look at in human form, and the wolf still disconcerted her.

The large black beast padded out of the light, gave her one last lingering look, settled down close enough to her that she could feel the waves of his body heat, and let out a long puff of air. Violet studied him in the soft moonlight. He must have felt worse than he’d let on, within seconds he was sleeping, but somehow she sensed should another predator approach he’d snap awake. His muzzle was long and lean, the fur dense and so black it blended in with the shadows all around.

He’d saved her, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

A rushing tide of blood and bits had nearly taken them; the crone’s forest had tried to consume them just as its mistress had consumed so many others. The moment they’d passed the witch’s boundary, he’d collapsed. So still, she’d feared he’d died. Violet had sat with him, not knowing how long he’d remain that way. He’d come to an hour later, dazed but not quite so miserable.

He’d shifted and her heart had flipped. Something was happening to her. Something scary; but not altogether displeasing. He was gorgeous to look at; it was hard to pretend he wasn’t anymore. Her hate hadn’t been able to blind her to his charms, and now… well, now things were different.

Ewan had led her to a thicket of bushes, growling and fumbling in the dirt for thirty or so minutes, before finding what he’d sought. Another dream stone. He’d pressed his palm against the stone and the blue portal had opened wide for them.

Here they were now, sitting in another grove. This one was slightly different. The trees were full of fruit and she’d nearly sobbed with joy. Didn’t matter that it was an apple, nothing had ever tasted sweeter.

They’d gorged until they could barely breathe, but beyond the chat of seconds ago, neither had talked. Which should have suited her fine; except now she wanted to talk to him. Wanted to know everything he knew about her past.

His past.

Glancing at her clothes, she frowned. She was still covered in slaughter, her dress beyond ruined. Where were they headed now? To another monster, something even more insidious than the crone?

Violet shuddered, remembering the slithering feeling of that dark soul sliding down her throat. The wash of pain that’d blinded her to everything, and then the sweet, sweet lips consuming the evil within.

She brushed her fingertips against her lips and closed her eyes, his soft steady breaths a lullaby in her ear. Leaning against the tree she wiggled her toes, reveling in the warmth of his fur brushing against them.

An owl hooted and she shivered. Growing up, she’d led a sheltered life. Never able to stray farther than grandma’s territory; the apple trees the farthest she’d ever dared to go. But she’d known in her heart that there was more to Kingdom then the small valley she’d called home.

After much pleading and begging, grandmother had finally bought her maps, many of them. She’d stayed up into the wee hours of the night, reading and memorizing each wiggle and line by candlelight.

She’d been happy and content, but there were times she’d wished she could have seen them for herself. As a child she’d drooled at the thought of a forest made of cookies, but the reality was so much different than her childhood fantasies. The thrill of seeing a world she’d never thought to return to was still there, but tempered now with the knowledge that there was bad in this world.

Violet rolled her eyes, snorting. “You’re bad too,” she whispered.

What she’d done to the crone. The power that’d filled her body, spread through her like a dark cancer, sweeping aside reason or kindness. In its place had been something all-consuming and vile and she’d gloried in it.

The rush of all that power made her heady and wanton, desperate for more and ashamed of it all.

Until the pain.

But then Ewan had kissed her, and that kiss swept the evil aside, like a gentle swell lapping the beach. And she could breathe. Think.

Her head had swum with visions of a full moon, running and sweating, and howling. It’d been freedom, wild and untamed. And she’d wanted more.

Violet sighed, heart twisting painfully in her chest as she glanced at his still form. She should be sleeping, just like him. But her brain wouldn’t stop working. A side of her, smaller and smaller every day, still thought it was wrong not to hate him.

When he’d pushed her out onto the path, forced her to confront the crone, it’d flared to life. But then she’d seen him desperate to get at her, and had known he was trying to help.

But why?

Did he really think he was her mate?