Page 32 of Wolfkissed
“I’m fine,” I say faintly and don’t resist when he crouches down beside me and helps me back to my feet. “The wolf?”
“The wolf won’t hurt you,” Bert says softly. “Right, brute?”
A snarl is the only reply, and I close my eyes as Bert guides me to the stairs and away from the spilled blood.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ROSAMUND
“He protected you, my lady,” Bert is saying. I listen with half an ear, most of my focus on negotiating the steep steps with legs and feet so numb I barely feel them.
My face also feels numb. Fear is muted, relegated to a dull thumping in my ears. Is the wolf behind us? Is he coming after me? Patting my chest blindly, I find my locket and, like a protective charm, I clutch it in my hand.
Breathe,I tell myself.Bert wouldn’t act so unconcerned if the wolves were here, after us, if…
Not wolves. Just one. Only one.
We step into the great hall, and finally, I find the courage to glance over my shoulder. There he is, strolling behind us, liberally bathed in blood. His hands are free and ungloved. His bloodied face is unmuzzled.
As we proceed, nobody seems to notice us until a lady shrieks. Then a child starts crying, and I know they have noticed Valen’s presence. A man shouts something, and servants rush toward us, only to stop in their tracks when they realize what they’re rushing toward.
Images replay behind my eyes. Of Valen shoving me against the wall. Attacking the two men with the knives. Snapping the ropes and taking off his muzzle. Ripping the man’s throat out.
Bile rises in my throat, and I gag.
“This way, my lady,” Bert says quietly, unobtrusively gripping my elbow and hauling me toward the table where my family is seated. “Don’t look at him. Look straight.”
Pretend nothing happened.
Is that even an option anymore? I still can’t fathom that we were attacked—that I was attacked. In my own home. By my own people.
Saved by the wolf.
I turn around slowly, and there he is, standing with his legs braced apart, his hands clenched into fists by his sides, his head lowered. Even his silvery hair is dipped in red. It drips from his hands, still tipped with long black claws, and his mouth is full of sharp teeth.
Valen…
But before I can collect my thoughts and analyze my experience, let the truth seep into my emotions, my stepfather yells for silence.
It’s only then I notice that the guests have been shoving their chairs back and fleeing to the other end of the hall, mothers clutching their children, the men striking heroic poses while shaking with fear.
My stepfather is standing behind the table, issuing orders to the terrorized servants. “Tie him up! Tie the beast up! Men, here! To me!”
“Stay back,” Valen barks. “Not a step closer.”
“We can take you on,” the man says, “we can?—”
“Not a step closer to her,” Valen’s voice rises. “She was attacked before. How do I know you’re not about to do the same?”
“What is this?” Stepfather gestures impatiently at his men. “Move it. Tie him up now!”
Now Valen turns to him. “You brought me here for this, or so you claim. You want me to be her bodyguard? So let me guard her, godsdammit!”
A stunned silence falls over the great hall.
Of course, that’s why he did it. That’s why he protected me. My head finally clears enough to understand the situation. He did it so that he won’t be hogtied and muzzled anymore. Free rein. Free to assault and maul—only he hasn’t tried it yet.
Why hasn’t he tried it? My mind can’t wrap around this, can’t tuck in all the ragged edges of what happened. Why hasn’t he yet killed me, along with everyone in his path, and escaped? That’s the question that torments me—the sense that if I blink, he’ll burn everything down, kill everyone I love, and disappear.
