“You speak so differently of your mom than your father,” I say. “Is she a good wolf?”
“She is. Unfortunately, my mom wasn’t trained to fight—her father was against it—so my father was able to scare her into submission shortly after they were married. She was always too afraid to intervene during his ruthless training sessions with me. But I don’t blame her for what my father did to me. If she were stronger, she would have fought him. I know she would.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all that.” I wind my arm above my head, over his shoulder, and trace my fingers along the nape of his neck. “It’s crazy to think that such a horrible man is king of your pack.”
“Our pack,” he corrects. “And that’s the stupid thing about the crowning tradition and letting a piece of fucking jewelry choose the king and queen. In my opinion, it should be a vote amongst the pack.”
“Maybe you can change the rule when you become king.”
“I’ve thought about doing so. Not everyone will agree with me, though.”
“Yeah, so? You can’t please everyone. And if you tried to, you’d be miserable.”
“You’re very wise.” He moves his hands down my thighs. “I think you would make a great queen.”
“Definitely not right now.” I squirm as his fingers tickle my kneecap. “I need to learn a lot more about werewolves, this kingdom, and the realm.”
“There’s plenty of time for you to learn. My parents are still young.”
“Do they …? Do they have to pass away before you become king and another wolf becomes queen?” When he doesn’t answer right away, I add, “I’m sorry. That was probably a really rude question.”
“No, not at all.” He shifts me so I’m sitting closer. “I was just thinking about how the answer is yes and about how my father probably has many years ahead of him to reign. Only one of them has to pass away for the new king and queen to take over. It’s sort of a package deal kind of job.”
“It doesn’t seem too awful, unless you get stuck with someone like your dad. Luckily, from what I’ve seen, you are far from the cruel wolf your father sounds like, so the next queen should be very lucky.”
“I’m not sure I agree with you.”
“Why?”
“Because, if for some reason the next queen isn’t you, they’re going to be severely disappointed when I show absolutely no interest in getting involved with them on a romantic level.” He quickly kisses my earlobe then moves his hands to my waist, tracing a path back and forth.
My eyes roll open to meet his, finding his lips a mere sliver of an inch away from mine. “That feels good.”
“Good.” His fingers are splayed above my shirt, right along my elevated scars. “I can fade them if you want—the scars.”
“Really?”
He nods. “If you’re okay with me touching you there?”
Am I?
I don’t know.
How much can I take?
I don’t know.
Can I handle him touching me in a place so ugly and broken?
As he stares into my eyes with nothing but compassion, I find myself hesitantly nodding. “Okay.”
He fiddles with the hem of my shirt. “If you start to panic, just say so and I’ll stop.” He waits for me to nod before he inches his fingers underneath my shirt and grazes the scars covering my abdomen.
When my muscles tense, he starts to withdraw his hand.
“No, it’s okay,” I sputter through an uneven breath. “I’m just not used to anyone touching me there, but you’re fine. I promise.”
He waits a beat then tracks his fingers back and forth along the raised skin. Back and forth. Back and …
Forth …
Warmth spirals through my stomach and my toes curl, my back arching. As a groan hums from my lips, I press my lips to his. I’m not even sure why I kiss him, other than I want to.
He kisses me back, our tongues moving in sync as he continues touching my skin, sending fireworks through my body. Somewhere through the hazy passion, I momentarily lose touch with reality. By the time I return to the now, Jules is staring down at me with his palm resting on my abdomen, his gaze blazing with heat.
“Better?” he asks.
I nod, barely able to breathe.
He tries for a casual smile, yet looks utterly riled up. So, when he kisses me again, the gentleness surprises me.
“You should probably go get in the shower,” he whispers against my lips. “Ava will have a fit if we’re late.”
My heart is a mess in my chest as I nod, hurriedly kiss his cheek, then bolt from his arms to lock myself in the bathroom.
When I peel my shirt off, my jaw nearly cracks against the floor. The once prominent scars are now nothing but ghosts of thin white lines, almost gone yet not quite.
He healed me. I never thought it would be possible. I thought I’d always have to bear the scars. It makes me wonder if perhaps they could be gone completely one day.
Chapter 25
Rune journeys with us to Ava’s, but requests to stay outside.
“I’m not a fan of witches,” he explains. “They’re always after something.”
Jules grants him permission, and then him and I join Ava in her cottage.
After Jules introduces me to Ava, we dine for a while and lightly chat about magical creatures and lands.
I’ve never met a witch before, that I can recall, anyway. For some stupid reason, I pictured them looking similar to the witch costumes humans often wear on Halloween: long, black hair; green skin; a long nose; and of course, a wart. Because a witch isn’t a witch without a wart, right?
Wrong.
Ava is the exact opposite. Wavy, golden hair; sun-kissed skin; a cute, little nose; and no warts whatsoever. She’s gorgeous, to say the least, in a way that doesn’t match the wolf kingdom. Where every creature here is all gothic, tattoos, piercings, and moonlight; she’s jewels, shimmer, and sunshine. Well, in terms of looks. Her personality is a bit intense, as I’m finding out the longer we dine with her.
“I just don’t get why those stupid pixies keep eating all my roses,” she gripes as she pours her fifth glass of what she refers to as stardust wine, which tastes as lovely as that faerie magic wine, without the potent kick. “If they don’t knock it off, I’m going to put up traps.”
“I’d rather you not.” Jules takes a sip from his jewel-encrusted goblet. “I prefer to chase them out of the kingdom, not kill them.”
Ava pops a strawberry into her mouth. “That’s because you’re just like your mother.”
Jules winces at the mention of his mom then reaches for a few strawberries.
“That’s not an insult,” Ava continues, either oblivious to Jules’ discomfort or doesn’t give a shit. “You should take pride in the fact that you’re like your mother and nothing like your father.”
“I do.” He takes a long gulp of wine.
“And what about you?” Ava revolves in her chair toward me and crosses her legs.
She’s barely noted my presence the entire night, leaving me doubting that Jules’ little seduction plan is going to work.
I reach for my goblet. “What about me?”
She rests her elbows on the table, her glittery gold lips tilting upward. “Are you more like your father or your mother?”
“Um …” I glance at Jules, unsure how to respond since he hasn’t mentioned anything about my lost memories yet.
“Or is that why you came to see me?” The devious gleam in her eyes makes me queasy. “To remember the parents you forgot.”
“How do you know about that?” Jules asks, licking strawberry juice from his lips.
“Because I knew her parents and know part of her story.” Her gaze darkens. “So please, quit wasting my time with formalities and tell me what really brought you to my cottage tonight.”
Wait? She knew my parents? My parents knew a witch?
I down a long swallow of wine to avoid blurting out questions and ru
ining our chance of getting what we want tonight.
Jules relaxes back in the chair, rolling up the sleeves of his grey overshirt. “We want to know why Lake can’t remember. And if there’s a way to bring her memories back.”
Ava drums her fingernails against the table. “And what’s in it for me?”
Jules reaches into his pocket, retrieves a ruby pendant necklace, and lays it on the table. “I believe that’s a family heirloom, right?”
She trails her fingernail along the oval ruby pendant. “Where did you get this?”
“I think you already know the answer.”
“You stole it from your father.” She appears impressed as she collects the necklace. “I seriously misjudged you, Jules. You’re braver than I thought.”
“I’ll take that as a thank you.” He sucks on a lip ring. “And I don’t think I need to mention to you that, if the king finds out you have that, we’ll both be punished. So, I’d appreciate it if he didn’t find out.”
“I’ll keep it someplace safe.” She pushes from her chair, whisks across the small dining room, and hides the necklace inside an antique trunk in the corner of the room. Dusting her hands off, she turns toward me. “I’ll help you remember. In fact, I think it’s important that you do.”
Jules and I exchange a secretive look.
“And why’s that?” Jules asks.
Ava shrugs, yet gives Jules a long look.
Jules mentioned Ava is bound to the king and that she can’t always tell the truth. Perhaps that’s the case now.
“There are two ways this can go to bring her memories back,” she continues. “One is much easier and quicker than the other, but the other is less painful.”
Jules’ gaze collides with mine. “We’d rather do the less painful way.”
“I don’t really think this is a we decision.” She dismisses Jules with a flick of her wrist and focuses on me “Which way would you prefer?” Her sudden devouring gaze makes me reanalyze my initial doubt in Jules’ seduction plan.
“How painful are we talking about?” My question earns me a glare from Jules.
“That all depends on your pain tolerance.” She ambles back across the room and sits down on the corner of the table, nearly sitting on my hand. “Do you tolerate pain well? Does feeling it bring you to life just a little bit?”
I flick a startled glance at Jules, and he places his balled-up fist in front of his mouth to hide his smile.
“Um …” I look up at Ava. “Not really. I mean, I can deal with pain and everything, but I’d prefer not to.”
She sighs disappointedly. “All right, we’ll do it the slower way. But I have to warn you, it may take a few sessions with me that will have to be spread out over a few weeks.” She muses over the thought before lining her palms against the side of my head. “We can do the first session tonight.” She pets my head.
Jules throws me a pressing look then shoves his chair back from the table. “Ava, can I use your washroom?”
Her gaze never wavers from me. “Do whatever you need to, Jules. I’ll take care of Elora.”
It takes all my willpower not to gulp. “What exactly are you going to do?”
She strokes my temple. “Use a bit of what’s left of my magic to lower the memory shield on you.”
I blink at her. “The memory shield?”
Her stroking pauses. “You didn’t know about it?”
“No.”
“Huh.”
“Huh what?”
“It’s nothing … It’s just that I thought, considering your mother put the memory shield on you, that you’d know more about it.”
“My mom did this to me?” My fingernails stab into my palms.
She licks her lips. “Of course. She’s the only wolf in your pack who could perform such magic. Although, she rarely let anyone know about her little trick.”
“Why would she do this to me?” Tears veil my vision.
“Don’t cry, lovely wolf. I promise that, in time, we’ll get the answers you seek.” Then she lowers her head and kisses me on the lips.
I try not to cringe. Ava is gorgeous and everything, but I don’t like creatures just kissing me whenever they want to. Except for Jules. Even the first time he kissed me, though, I was irritated that he practically stole the kiss from me. It wasn’t his fault, though, I later realized. Our connection was consuming him.
“Now relax,” Ava purrs. “And let me work my magic on you.”
At first, I think her words are an innuendo and I prepare myself to bolt. Then the tips of her fingers begin to spark, magic fizzling over me, and I relax.
She starts chanting a spell under her breath, repeating it until the words are branded into my mind. I remain as motionless as possible until the sparks stop and she withdraws her hands from my face.
I blink a few times and rub my head. “I don’t feel anything.”
“It’ll take a few hours for it to work.” She flexes her hands. “And what memories that appear will probably just be short clips for now.”
I massage my temples. “Will it hurt when the memories come to me?”
“It shouldn’t.” She slants toward me. “Do you have a headache? I can fix that, too, if you need me to.” When I shake my head, she becomes transfixed with my mouth. “You have such soft lips. And your eyes are like the ocean glistening in the sunlight.”
And apparently, Ava is a player.
“Actually, we should probably get going,” Jules announces as he returns to the dining room. “Lake’s got to get up really early for training, and she’s not much of a morning person.”
“Oh, fine,” Ava sighs, leaning away from me. “I’ll see you next week, then.” She licks her lips.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. I’m seriously going to kick Jules in the balls for this.
We both remain quiet after we leave the cottage and hike up the path toward Jules’ house with Rune trailing our heels. Only when we’re a good distance from the cottage does Jules inform me he found the book. That it’s stuffed away in his back pocket.
“Good,” I say. Then I whack him in the gut.
He grunts, doubling over. “What the hell was that for?”
“For your stupid, little seduction plan.” I swat him again, not as hard this time, mostly due to my wolf’s protests.
“I’m going to let you two hash this out on your own,” Rune mutters, wandering toward the corner of the street and leans against a lamppost.
“I’m sorry you’re upset, but it was the only thing I could think of to distract her while I got the book.” Jules straightens, rubbing his abdomen.
“Well, next time, think of a better distraction than having me let a creature kiss me.” I move to hit his stomach again, but he jumps out of my way.
I lunge for him, but he sidesteps me, moving at a swift pace.
Dammit, he’s fast.
I whirl around, kicking up a cloud of dirt as I track his moves. My werewolf senses kick in, my vision sharpening. When my gaze locks on him, I charge, and he opens his arms, taking the impact, allowing me to crash against his chest. Then he folds his arms around me, trapping me against him. I writhe around, somehow ending up with my legs and arms clenched around him.
He makes no move to pry me off him, latching onto me. “I’m so fucking sorry I asked you to be a distraction. I didn’t realize Ava would kiss you. I should’ve known. You’re too irresistible.”
I roll my eyes as I stare at him. “You sound just as bad as her, spouting cheesy lines to try to win me over.”
“I’m not spouting cheesy lines. I’m telling the truth. You’re too irresistible.” Keeping one hand secured under my butt, he brushes a lock of hair out of my face. “And I promise you’ll never have to do anything like that again. I’m sorry I asked you to at all.”
“Will you come with me when I have to see her again?” My anger softens. “Every time I have to come?”
He nods. “I’ll even hold your hand the entire time.”
My gaze drops to his metal woven lips, and my wolf purrs. “And will you …? Will you kiss me now so I can forget her kiss?”
He sucks in a sharp breath. “Are you sure?”
Am I? I really don’t know where I start and where my wolf ends.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll do more than that.” He crashes his lips against mine, branding me with a kiss so scorching I doubt I’ll ever be able to kiss another creature ever again without remembering the imprint of his lips.
When he pulls away, giving me one last, lingering kiss, I slide out of his arms. Then we start up the path again with our fingers interlaced and Rune tagging along behind us.
“I’m sorry I hit you,” I apologize as we near the street that weaves through the heart of the town.
“You should be,” Jules sarcastically gripes. “I’m probably going to have bruises all over.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“What if I do?”
I roll my eyes. “Then I guess I’ll have to kiss them better.”
He holds up a hand with his fingers crossed. “Fingers crossed then that I’m bruised everywhere.”
A laugh escapes me, but it’s cut short by the thudding of at least a dozen hooves trampling against the ground.
Jules goes rigid as he sniffs the air. Then he grabs the book from his pocket. “Rune.”
“On it.” Runes strides up and grabs me by the arm.
“What’s going on?” The air tastes and reeks potently of dust and pallid moonlight, a smell that tugs at my memories.
Tears fill my eyes, but I can’t quite figure out why. Then my stomach ravels with knots.
Something bad is happening.
Jules shoves the thin book into my hand, and then Rune hauls me down the road, away from Jules.
“Where are we going?” I rush after Rune while looking over my shoulder as Jules fades into nothing more than an outline against the night.
“The king has returned,” Rune mumbles, veering down a side street. “And it’s better for Jules to meet him in the street than have him barging into his home.”
“That doesn’t explain why we’re running away.” I hug the book against my chest. “We should’ve stayed with him so he doesn’t have to deal with his father alone.”