I know, I’m sorry. He pulled her back into his arms. My generals wouldn’t stop talking. Let me make it up to you.
The countryside was at war, and she had turned herself into a gypsy to follow him, but he had made an extra effort to make their private quarters comfortable and inviting, and their nights were filled with peace, passion, and warmth.
His powerful body was nude, like hers, and the muscled length fitting along her back was both enticingly exotic and comfortingly familiar at once. Pleasure, like invisible smoke, unfurled warm tendrils along her nerve endings.
She had to force herself to sound cranky as she replied, Shh. I’m busy sleeping.
Are you sure? he whispered huskily in her ear as a long, strong hand curved around the swell of her bare breast. Are you entirely sure?
It felt so good when he caressed her, she wanted to arch like a cat underneath his fingers. Instead, she pretend-snapped, Yes, I’m entirely sure!
His lips teased the sensitive shell of her ear while clever fingers traced circles on her skin. I’ve never known anyone to talk so intelligently in their sleep before. You are a woman of many talents. Now I’m curious to see if you can kiss in your sleep as well.
When he pulled her onto her back, she pinched her traitorous lips together as they tried to widen into a grin. You’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. Do you always get your way?
I must confess, I do.
He sounded so smug she burst out laughing, even as she tried to see his shadowed features.
Her body knew his, and her heart had already been given, but for some reason, she didn’t know what he looked like, and it was vitally important she see his face.
He lowered his head, and his breath smelled like mint as his warm lips brushed hers. As she threaded her fingers through his hair, he settled his weight more firmly on top of hers and deepened the kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth.
She plunged awake, heart pounding, and stared dry-eyed at the frescoed ceiling. Centuries ago it had been painted gold and a deep, celestial blue, but at night the brilliant colors were muted.
She could still feel the weight of her dream lover’s body lingering over hers and taste the mint from his mouth on her lips.
When she had created the role of prime minister to the council, she had confessed most of her visions to Margot, but not all of them.
In her earlier visions, there were always two men, and she would fall in love with one of them.
She had met the one who was intent on conquest. She hadn’t met the other.
One man, she knew from the visions, would be monstrous, while the other man… Well, the goddess only knew how well he would turn out.
She whispered to the ceiling, “Please Goddess, don’t let me fall in love with a monster.”
Gordon burst unceremoniously into Wulf’s tent. “Sir, she isn’t there.”
For a moment Wulf was convinced he hadn’t heard the other man correctly.
He had been awake late into the night and had rested only for a short while before rising again. After Jada had been thoroughly questioned, Wulf had him executed, keeping the whole affair as quick and efficient as possible. Passing judgment and carrying out the sentence was never easy, and he didn’t believe in prolonging a condemned prisoner’s misery any longer than necessary.
Jada had confessed to having another accomplice, one of the men who worked in the mess tent. That man had to be detained, questioned, and executed too. The second traitor didn’t name any more names, but food supply was one of the most critical components of the complex, massive operation of a mobilized army, so Wulf was not content to let it end there. There could have been others that the first two conspirators knew nothing about.
He ordered the witch who had the strongest truthsense to assess statements from every member of the cooking crew while Jermaine’s team and the camp doctors searched through the food supplies. All of this had been conducted while the rest of the witches fought to lessen the weather magic’s deadly storm to something that was at least survivable.
Now Gordon had put his tent to rights and had served a hot breakfast for two. Dishes piled with meat and potatoes, and mugs of hot tea sat steaming on the reassembled table, waiting for a woman who didn’t show.
Wulf had gotten probably an hour’s sleep at most, and a dull headache throbbed at the base of his skull.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he snapped, “What did you just say?”
Drawing himself up, Gordon said clearly, “The priestess isn’t in my tent. She’s gone, sir.”
He had surged to his feet before the other man had finished the first sentence. Striding to Gordon’s tent, he flung back the flap and glared inside.
The pallet had clearly not been slept in. There was an impression where it looked like she might have curled up, but the blankets were still neatly tucked in at the edges. The two braziers had gone out some time ago, and the edges of the metal bowls were rimmed with frost. Gordon had left a tall pile of wood just inside near the flap, but it looked like it hadn’t been touched.
The evidence kicked Wulf in the teeth. She had not only disappeared, but she had done so some time ago. He lunged around the tent, checking the outside of the walls and along the ground. There were no visible exit points, no signs of struggle. The walls were intact and the fresh fall of snow undisturbed.
Whirling, he glared at Gordon who was on his heels. “There were four guards and a witch out here all night.”
“Yes, sir.” The manservant’s expression was pinched with worry.
Something had gotten past four guards and a witch. Either that something had been Lily herself or it had been whatever had taken her.
“Get the dogs.”
“Yes, sir!” Gordon dashed away.
Wulf paced while he waited. Four guards. Four guards and a witch.
What had happened? Had she been frightened? Hurt? There had been no blood, or at least none that he had seen. There could have been small droplets he hadn’t noticed, but he didn’t want to enter the tent again until the trackers and their dogs had been inside.
Besides, there were other ways of being hurt. He thought of her slender bone structure, that delicate skin, and her obvious lack of fighting skills, and swore under his breath.
Jermaine had been right about Jada. Lured by the promise of gold, he had turned traitor almost two months ago, and recently he had received a communique to assasinate Wulf before he could reach Guerlan’s border.
Lily’s presence had been incidental. When Jada had gone after her, he had simply hoped to take a hostage. And the interior of Gordon’s tent had not shown any signs of struggle.
Wulf had no reason to believe she had been targeted and attacked. It made more sense that she had left on her own. But he didn’t know for sure, which left him feeling both angry and…
Not panicked. The Wolf of Braugne didn’t panic at mysteries.