The Wolf Prince

CHAPTER 8



Ruben didn’t know what he expected. But whatever he’d believed Willow’s story to be—fairy tale, delusion or the product of an extremely overactive imagination—he’d never in a million years supposed it to be real.

Yet, as they’d approached what Willow called the veil, he’d definitely felt a shift in pressure, a very noticeable change in the quality and composition of the air. His wolf felt it too and became restless. This time, Ruben let the beast have full rein, or as close as he could come without actually changing. He felt safer trusting his wolf’s finely tuned senses and instincts. If Willow had looked into his eyes at that moment, he knew she’d have seen a hint of what he could become.

As they approached a small grove ringed by several tall aspen trees, she stopped yet again.

“We’re here,” she said, her amazing eyes troubled. “Please, I know you think I’m stalling, but you really should reconsider. This is your last chance to back out.”

He lifted his wrist, the handcuff they shared causing her to do the same. When he saw the red marks on her creamy skin, he winced with guilt. “Sorry, but I have a killer to track down. I can’t change my mind. Lead the way.”

And so she did. Reluctantly, but he thought he detected a bit of mockery in the wry half smile she flashed.

“Come then. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As they walked forward, the pressure became more intense. His ears filled and he swallowed to pop them.

Though he squinted and tried hard to see—something, anything—the sunlit-dappled forest appeared unchanged. If there was magic—and the tingling along his skin told him there was—it remained invisible to the naked eye.

Just as the pressure became almost too intense to bear, it vanished. Ruben blinked and looked around. The forest from before was gone.

Instead, they stood at the edge of an unfamiliar wooded area. In the distance, rolling green hills danced toward a cerulean sky.

Dizzy, he staggered.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“We’ve changed location,” he said, feeling as though the ground had suddenly shifted right out from underneath his feet.

“Uh, yes. We’ve crossed the veil. It’s in a different place on our side.” One perfect brow raised, she eyed him. “Are you all right?”

Concentrating hard kept the world from spinning. He took another small step forward, dizzily feeling his way, and realized they were no longer tethered by the handcuffs.

Of course when she noticed the direction of his gaze, she smiled. “I told you they wouldn’t transfer with us.”

“Right.” He swallowed, popping his ears again, and took another step, briefly closing his eyes and willing away the spinning. When he opened them again, everything seemed to have settled back into place.

“Where the hell are we?” he rasped. Inside, the part of him that was wolf still reeled, unable to regain his equilibrium.

Her smile widened. “Home. Welcome to SouthWard, land of the SouthWard Court of the Bright. My home.”

Again he searched the horizon, reassured to note the sky had lightened somewhat. Though still darker than what he was used to, at least it had remained blue. “In the land of the...what? Fairies?”

Moving ahead of him at what honest-to-hounds looked like almost a skip, she shrugged. “Call it what you like. Elves, Fairies, Sprites, none of that matters to us. We are Sidhe. We exist in our own reality that closely mirrors yours.”

Why he found this so surprising and difficult to digest, he didn’t know. If anyone should understand the supernatural existed, as a shape-shifting member of the Pack, aka a werewolf, he should.

And he reminded himself, he was a prince among the royal house of Teslinko. Moving quickly and relieved to learn he’d regained his balance, he caught up with her.

“Where are we going?”

She cast him a sidelong glance, her expression serious. “I haven’t quite figured that out. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you.”

“How about you present me to the court?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Right.”

“I don’t think my request is all that unusual. I’m a prince, you’re a princess. Protocol demands—”

“Forget protocol,” she interrupted. “As much as I hate to be rude, shall I remind you that you’re not a welcome guest? No one, and I can’t emphasize that enough, is going to be happy to see you. Even if your father has met my parents.”

He frowned, puzzled. “That doesn’t make sense.” Teslinko was beloved among the countries of the world. Though small, the natural resources—diamonds, timber and miles of perfect white sandy beaches—made them a much sought after destination of tourists and celebrities alike.

“Doesn’t it?” She stopped and faced him, hands on her hips. “No one here even knows that I travel to the human realm. And then, not only have I lost one of my mother’s precious magical earrings, but I show up with a human when I’m supposed to be entertaining—”

“I’m not a human,” he interrupted her this time. “Maybe that counts for something.”

She shook her head, heaving a sigh. “Stop playing games. I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Head cocked, she studied him. “Fine,” she said at last. “I’ll bite,” she said, unaware of the irony. “If you’re not human, then what are you?”

“I’m a Shape-shifter, just like my father.”

When she said nothing, he continued.

“I can change into a wolf.”

Now her eyes widened. “That explains why I saw...”

“What? You saw what?”

“A shimmering ghost of a wolf, surrounding you as though linked to your soul.”

Dumbfounded, now it was his turn to stare. “You saw my aura? But only Shape-shifters can see that.”

“Sorry.” Her shrug told him she cared nothing for his preconceived ideas. “Maybe magic trumps shape-shifting. So if you’re a werewolf, is your entire kingdom made up of werewolves?”

“Shape-shifters,” he corrected, before he really thought about it. “Sorry. We prefer that term. And no, not everyone is like me. Teslinko has always been ruled by the Pack. I’m a prince of one of the oldest European Packs.”

“Packs?”

“A grouping of wolves.”

“I know what the term means,” she snapped. “Though I guess I find it odd that you refer to yourself this way.”

He shrugged. “How else would we refer to ourselves?”

To her credit, her steady gaze never wavered from his face.

He met her gaze with a straight face. “And as I said, not everyone in Teslinko is Pack. Like every other Pack, we coexist with many ordinary humans all around our world. They have no idea such a thing as a Shape-shifter truly lives, apart from legends and old fairy tales.”

She watched him in silence, mulling over his revelation. After a moment, to his surprise, she held out her hand, her caramel-colored eyes twinkling. “Truce, okay?”

Despite having absolutely no idea what she meant, he went ahead and shook. The instant they touched, electricity arced between them. Sizzling. He could tell from her wide eyes and the hitch in her breathing that she felt it, too.

Of course he found it incredibly difficult to let go of her soft hand.

“Do you believe me?” he finally asked, more to distract himself than anything else.

“I’m not sure.” Lifting one shoulder in a delicate shrug, she looked away. “I guess you’ll have to show me sometime.”

Which meant, in her refusal to take things on faith, she was like him. “I will,” he promised. “Though unless you like animals, you might not like what you see.”

A shadow flitted across her mobile face. “I love animals.”

“Good. Now will you present me to your court?”

Still considering, finally she laughed and nodded. “Yes, I think I will. Something tells me you can take care of yourself.”

Relieved, he gave her a half bow, using his hand in flourish. He still had difficulty realizing the handcuffs had disappeared. “Then, please, lead the way.”

When she smiled up at him, his heart skipped a beat. Unwillingly, he was reminded of how attracted he’d been to her when he’d first seen her at the ball. Was he still? He refused to allow himself to think about it.

“Let’s go.” Walking alongside her, he relaxed slightly as he took in the beautiful scenery. Here, he felt an amazing synergy between the earth and its inhabitants, as though Willow’s people didn’t rape the land and destroy nature for their own means as some humans did. His inner wolf approved. For a moment, the beast struggled to break free. Ruben subdued him with a promise of later. Soon.

Finally, they came up over a hill and a glittering golden castle came into sight. Even in the muted sunlight, the thing shone bright enough to hurt his eyes. Ruben couldn’t decide whether it was beautiful or too much.

She’d stopped and stood silently watching him, no doubt to gauge his reaction. When he didn’t comment, she began to move forward. “Most people around here like it. Personally, I think it’s gaudy and garish.”

Since her words so closely mirrored his own thoughts, he had to chuckle. “I didn’t want to offend you by saying anything.”

Her answering grin warmed his heart. “Don’t worry, you won’t. I should tell you, around here everyone is fond of glittery, loud and sparkly. Most times, so much gold gives me a headache.”

He found himself grinning back. “Me, too. I much prefer nature.”

Again she appeared startled, though he didn’t understand why.

As they approached the golden structure, Ruben braced himself for when the guards stopped them. To his surprise, they weren’t intercepted or even greeted. They proceeded into the castle unnoticed and unannounced.

Inside, everything—from the sparkling marble floor to the gilt-encrusted furnishings—carried over the bright golden theme. He even saw gold dust floating in the air.

They walked through a huge entryway, their footsteps echoing on the glittering floor. “This time of day, my parents hold court in the throne room,” she murmured. “We’ll go there and I’ll try to present you.”

Still no guards. He couldn’t figure out if her people were extremely trusting or foolish. Finally, they reached a set of double doors, both of which appeared to be painted in pure gold.

“Are you ready?” she asked. Her neutral voice gave nothing away. But then, why should it? They were both royalty. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen a throne room before.

He nodded and she pushed open the doors. Side by side they entered the room.

Instantly, Ruben realized this was nothing like home. Light reflected off every surface, so brilliant, so dazzling, the first impression brought pain. Too bright, in fact, the sharpness of it made him wish for sunglasses. Instead, he shaded his eyes and squinted as he looked around.

Where his family did not stand on ceremony, evidently here the king and queen did. Everyone wore formal attire, glittering gowns and equally dazzling suits. The court sat gathered around a raised dais that appeared to be made entirely from perfectly cut diamonds.

On the dais, two shining beings were seated on two equally glamorous thrones. Everyone watched as Willow led Ruben into the room. Temporarily blinded, he narrowed his eyes and struggled to see.

Willow dropped into a deep curtsy. “Mother, Father, may I present Prince Ruben of Teslinko?”

Still no one spoke. The king and queen eyed him with a regal intensity he would have been hard pressed to imitate. Though they possessed a beauty beyond words, he could tell from the disapproving set of their aquiline features that they found him utterly lacking. Too bad. He had more problems than pleasing them.

“I believe you have met my father,” Ruben said. “King Leo of Teslinko sends his regards.”

This seemed to do the trick. Though neither of the rulers moved, a subtle relaxing of the tension told him using his father’s name had helped him somewhat.

Queen Millicent smiled. “Give him our regards, as well. He is a good man.”

Ruben bowed his head. “I will.”

“What do you want with us, human?” King Puck asked, his expression less austere.

“He’s not—” Willow tried to interject. Ruben squeezed her wrist to silence her.

“I’m looking for a killer,” Ruben announced, making his own tone equally chilly. He could go with courtly B.S. or try the direct approach. Considering the contempt with which this king eyed him, he figured he didn’t have time to waste with hints and innuendos. “Someone from your kingdom traveled to my home and murdered one of my servants.”

The instant he finished speaking, the room erupted in chatter. The king silenced them all with a single wave of his hand, an impressive feat. “You are mistaken,” he said. “Our people do not kill.”

The arrogance of the statement was not lost on Ruben.

“I’ve seen him. He followed your daughter from this land to mine. I happened to be in the woods when he did so.”

“So? What proof do you have?”

“My mother saw him. She has described him perfectly, right down to the violet eyes. Only one people have such a physical trait. Therefore, I know he’s from here.”

Again the crowd began to whisper and gossip. Once more, the king waved them to silence. “Why should I believe you?”

Ruben fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Why would I lie? I have nothing to gain and everything to lose, traveling to your realm in search of a killer.”

The king frowned. “You say you’ve seen him?”

Ruben nodded.

“And would you recognize this man if you were to see him again?”

“Yes. I am sure of it.” And he was. Even though the other man had looked exactly like most of the men present—tall, blond, with piercing violet or purple eyes—Ruben felt certain he could recognize his features.

“I see.” Turning to the queen, the king spoke with her in a voice too low to be heard.

While he waited, Ruben realized how much this task meant to him. Not only would this search for the killer distract him from the approach of the madness he so greatly feared, but if he was successful, he might also succeed in banishing that completely. Here, he’d have no choice but to stay human.

Next to him, Ruben felt Willow tense. He glanced down at her to see why and realized her attention was fixed on a doorway midway between them and the throne.

Two people stood there, both elegantly beautiful, with shimmering blond hair and well-built physiques. After a quick glance at the man, Ruben’s gaze was drawn to the female, the most amazing-looking woman he’d ever seen. With her lush figure draped in a bright red dress that wrapped around her like a caress, perfectly showcasing her curvy figure, she actually glowed with beauty. If that weren’t enough, the exotic tilt to her violet eyes and her plump, bow-shaped lips completed the package.

Dazedly, he thought if Hollywood ever saw her, she’d be an instant sensation. No movie star or model could even hope to hold a candle to her.

“My sister, Tatiana,” Willow drawled in a low voice. “And her fiancé, Prince Eric.”

Though he nodded, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from them long enough to respond.

As they advanced into the room, Ruben noticed an instant softening in both the king and queen. In contrast, Willow gripped his arm hard enough to draw his attention back to her.

“My darling,” the queen all but cooed. “Come, join us.” She held out one slender, regal hand, one side of her scarlet mouth turning up in a mocking smile. “Look at what your sister has done now.”

Tatiana’s tinkling laugh drifted through the room, making everyone smile in response. Everyone, that is, except Willow. She seemed resigned and apprehensive, an interesting combination. The undercurrents he sensed here would put his own royal court to shame.

Flanked by the tall blond man, Tatiana drifted closer in a cloud of exotic scent. His wolf twitched away from it, finding it distasteful. Part of Ruben agreed. The other part of him wanted to reach and touch her to make sure she was real.

“What have we here?” she purred, barely glancing at Willow as her bright purple gaze undressed him. Though she was undeniably gorgeous, Ruben knew her type. Man-eater, he thought. He’d do well to steer clear of this one.

Still eyeing him, Tatiana lifted one golden brow at her sister. “Willow, wherever did you find him? And tell me, dear sister,” she said as she leaned close, her smile seeming almost a snarl up close, “when did you start associating with humans?”

Ruben’s inner wolf growled. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep from recoiling from her.

Willow straightened. She drew herself up to her full height which was, unfortunately, at least six inches shorter than her sister. “He’s here for a reason.” She pitched her voice loud enough to carry. “And that has absolutely nothing to do with me.”

“You brought him through the veil,” Queen Millicent pointed out, her dulcet tone dripping with malice. “Therefore, I would think his presence has everything to do with you.”

“Not of my own free will,” Willow answered.

At that, the entire room gasped.

“But he is here of his own free will?” the king asked, his tone making it plain the answer mattered.

Though Ruben decided he didn’t much care, he knew Willow did. Taking a step forward, he distanced himself from both the pushy beauty and her quietly gorgeous sister. Willow released her hold on his arm.

“I am,” he answered.

Crossing half the remaining distance to the throne, he wasn’t surprised when six guards moved forward to intercept him. He stopped and spread his arms, addressing himself to the king and queen. “I mean no disrespect, your Highnesses.”

The royal couple glared at him, but the king waved his hand, indicating he should be allowed to continue.

“I am Prince Ruben of Teslinko.” Straightening his shoulders, Ruben brushed past the guards, aware his title should give him some special consideration, even though they’d chosen to ignore it when he’d been introduced. “I have come here to ask your leave to hunt down the killer and bring him back to my home for justice.”

The king and queen exchanged looks. Neither expression revealed a clue as to their thoughts. Both focused their intent gazes on Ruben.

Every time they moved, the light shattered, sending shards of brilliance reflecting off everything else in the room. Willow hadn’t been joking when she’d said her people favored bright and gaudy. Ruben’s head began to hurt and again he longed for a pair of dark sunglasses.

“We will consider your request,” King Puck said. “And we will talk more in private.”

“Yes,” Queen Millicent echoed. “We are very interested in learning about this crime, particularly how our daughter the Princess Willow came to be involved.”

Tatiana laughed again. “Perhaps my sister’s fiancé should stay closer to her. Eric, where is Prince Chad?”

Silent until now, the tall blond man at her side frowned. “I haven’t seen him. I must find him and warn him about this interloper.” With a sharp glare at Ruben, Eric strode off. Tatiana watched him go, the expression on her lovely face something akin to relief.

Beside him, Willow stirred restlessly.

As Ruben was about to speak, the king waved his hand. Just like that, they were dismissed. The guards surrounded them again and escorted them from the room. Willow went willingly, appearing both calm and happy. Ruben really couldn’t blame her. His head ached.

On the way out, Ruben caught one more glimpse of Tatiana, as her gaze followed them with barely disguised dismay. He couldn’t help but wonder why.

When they’d proceeded through a set of ornately carved double doors and into the hall, the guards finally left them, turning back the way they’d come.

“Phew,” Willow let out her breath in a sigh. “Thank the stars that’s over.”

She said the words like she’d never attended court before. About to ask, he stopped himself. What did it matter? He was here to find a killer and prove his sanity, even if only to himself, not to make friends with Willow.

His wolf slinked close to the edge of his awareness. The beast had retreated, repelled by Tatiana. Now that Ruben was alone with Willow, the wolf sidled near the surface, intrigued and attracted.

Ruben ignored it. He glanced at Willow. When he did, she quickly looked away.

Suddenly, he realized why. “You didn’t tell me you were engaged.”

Lifting one shoulder, she grimaced. “I’m not entirely sure I am. My parents are trying to arrange a marriage between me and Tatiana’s fiancé’s younger brother. Neither of us has committed to it.”

The idea of her and another man rankled. Surprised and disturbed, he pushed the thought away. What Willow did with her life didn’t matter to him. Finding the killer did.

“What now?” he asked, eager to begin his search. “I’m ready to go.”

“You don’t yet have permission,” she reminded him, making him wonder how she’d known his thoughts. “Until you do, let me find you somewhere to stay.” He couldn’t help but notice that she still wouldn’t look at him.

“Wait.” He stopped her with a light touch on the shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Honestly?” Bitterness tinged her tone. “Let’s start with you handcuffing me and forcing me to bring you here. Which of course, brought me to the attention of my parents, especially my mother.”

“Attention of...” This, he didn’t understand. “You’re a royal princess.” He thought of his sister, and how often Alisa had complained about what to her had felt like constant scrutiny. Willow probably felt the same. “Surely they are well aware of your activities,” he finished.

“I take pains to make certain they aren’t,” she said darkly. “Especially my mother.”

He almost smiled at this, then remembered the strange, almost vindictive way the queen had behaved a few moments ago. “Is she angry at you?”

“Perpetually.” She grimaced. “Actually, she finds everything I do, including breathing, both humiliating and embarrassing.”

In her tone he detected bewilderment and hurt. For the briefest of instants, he wanted to pull her close, hold her and tell her everything would be all right.

Of course he immediately pushed that thought away. She wouldn’t appreciate his pity. “I want to apologize for involving you in this,” he said, meaning it. “While my intention isn’t to hurt you in any way, I don’t see how I could have done this differently.”

When she began to speak, he held up a hand to indicate he hadn’t finished. “But you should understand, I really have no choice. Murder is not taken lightly among my people—among any people. I must find this killer and bring him to justice.”

Her entire body, which had gone tense, relaxed slightly. “Follow me,” she said, and turned away. He kept pace with her as they marched down one glittering hallway after another. The palace appeared so deserted, he began to wonder if they all were in the throne room holding court with the king and queen.

When they finally ran into a servant, Willow asked the golden coated footman to stop. Ruben stared in disbelief as the man ignored her, continuing on as though she hadn’t spoken.

Stunned, Ruben cleared his throat. “Wait,” he ordered.

Immediately the man froze in his tracks. Slowly, he turned and walked back to them. “Can I help you, sir?” he asked, addressing Ruben as if Willow didn’t exist.

“Your princess called you,” Ruben said, his cold tone letting the man know he’d better listen this time.

Willow stepped forward. “This is Prince Ruben. I need you to make sure a room is made ready for him.”

The footman darted his gaze from her to Ruben and back again. Expression like stone, Ruben dared him to protest. He wasn’t sure what exactly was going on here, but first impressions told him there wasn’t anything friendly about this palace, especially toward Willow.

“Yes, my lady,” the man finally said, the faintest sneer in his voice. Then, directing his gaze back at Ruben, he dipped his head. “Sir, if you’ll follow me...”

Ruben glanced at Willow, who plainly had no intention of going with him. She waved him on, smiling slightly. “I’ll meet you at the noon meal. Maybe by then, my parents will have made up their mind about you.”

And then, her back straight, she walked away, leaving him without a backward glance.