17. Weston

Chapter 17

Weston

D ragons soared overhead as my wolf loped through the Royal Wood, using the pack bond to note everyone's locations. The sentry and patrol placements spread out in our shared consciousness like a map, each person like a glowing point. In our mind's eye, we added in the flight paths of the various dragons. They couldn't form a bond like wolves or some other shifters and had to rely on sight and sound. The sheer distance they could cover, not to mention their power, made up for it.

As we were identifying the few places where we could tighten up the patrol before moving on to the various villages, a disturbance lit up along the bond. Fancetta's route. Dante was stopped with her—he'd called my wolf through the bond, his request urgent.

No one else in the kingdom showed any signs of disturbance. This was good news. It meant whatever had drawn Dante's alarm was not widespread.

My wolf headed his way immediately, taking as straight a path as the various trees and flora would allow. A wince of pain flashed through my mate bond.

"What could Aurelia be doing? " I groused as my wolf wound closer to Dante. We'd been feeling it for a few hours now; nothing too bad, but there were occasional flares from various places on her body.

"Whatever it is, " my wolf replied, "her wolf is delighted with it. She's having fun."

The trees ended in a jagged line along a strip of cleared land with a road leading into the only city in the kingdom. It was a fraction of the size of the port city in the Red Lupine, the populace here having been greatly diminished during the decades-long curse. Even so, there was no city in the magical world that could boast the same level of cleanliness and finery. The dragons were pouring a substantial amount of their kingdom's profits into rebuilding, creating new homes, and extending their markets. It would take decades, but I knew eventually this kingdom would be the envy of the magical world.

Dante waited with Fancetta in the central market, a large, bustling affair with carts and stalls as well as permanent shops and extravagant merchant outlets. The brick-and-mortar sellers existed in organized lines and in orderly fashion, taking up about half of the current market. The rest, patiently waiting for more establishments to be built, set up temporary shops using any means necessary to catch the public's eye. The king's guard patrolled at all hours, ensuring there was no theft or vandalism, and even the smallest stalls kept to some sort of order within the bustling chaos. It was probably the safest central city market I'd ever been in, and because of it, commerce thrived.

Each wolf in the market wore a similar long slip. Clothes or fabrics were stashed in various locations in the kingdom so that official personnel could cover up in public.

"Beta," Dante said after I'd shifted. He stood next to an empty cart cleared of items holding a rolled-up piece of paper in his left hand. Fancetta handed me a slip.

"What is it?" I took the slip and pulled it over my head.

"This was a medicinal cart." Dante motioned at it, walking around to where the seller would've stood to do business. He looked down at what was probably shelving and storage within. "Vampiric medicines said to help improve sex drive or thin the blood, or various other things that may or may not have actually worked, especially for non-vampires."

"Were they legal?"

"Yes. Every one. The king's guard checked him periodically. He didn't offer many products or carry a lot of stock, but he often had a line, usually later in the evening."

The setup was simple. Little shelves at either edge of the counter were made for showcasing the product. A banner would've gone down the front, and little placards for product names were affixed in various places on the shelving, all of them currently blank. The cart itself was worn and weathered, the rain swelling the wood in various places and the sun fading it. Simple but serviceable.

"They found him dead two days ago in his living room," Dante went on, bending a little and reaching under the counter. I couldn't see what he was doing. "Overdose on Granny's product. They found two wrappers and a dozen or so of her other products, all intact. Given the cart itself was rented for the market, it was assigned to someone else. When that seller came to clean it out and set up shop, he found this."

Dante reached into the cart, and something popped within its bowels. He stepped away, the expression on his face telling me I should take his place, which I did.

All the storage had been cleaned out. In the middle, directly under the counter and built into the wood framing, a little door had cracked open.

I pulled it wider, finding a little cubby that would've been impossible to see unless I'd specifically looked for it. Within, neatly organized, were the familiar black and purple packages.

"The new cart owner found it when he was giving it a good scrub," Fancetta added. The tan-skinned woman with long brown hair and a square jaw was a dependable and loyal wolf, one I was glad to have in my pack. "Claimed he had heard of cubbies being built into carts like this and grew suspicious when cleaning it." She raised one eyebrow in a skeptical expression. "Said his rag caught on a crack or something. It wasn't clear."

"It wasn't meant to be clear," I growled, pulling out Granny's product and spreading it across the counter. "It's obvious this is a secret within the market seller community. He likely only told us because he was too afraid of anyone thinking this product was his." I pulled out the rest of the packages. "Contact the king's guard. Perform random inspections. Search for more cubbies like this. Not just in carts, but in stalls as well. I want a detailed report of everything they find."

"Yes, sir," she said.

I pushed Granny's product toward her a little. "Get that to the queen. She'll want to keep it with the others. Hunt down the original seller's contacts and try to find out how it got in."

"Yes, sir." She bowed and started collecting the product.

"Beta, a word?" Dante motioned me away from the cart.

I went with him, walking down a side street away from the market. He handed over the rolled-up paper as he did so.

"Found that in the side of the cubby. The new stall owner, once he saw Granny's product, didn't proceed any farther. He called the king's guard over immediately. They took him in for questioning and then called us. I was the one that looked inside. I found that."

I unrolled the paper. The texture was more like parchment but thicker, with a glossy shine. It was made for traveling, less likely to get damaged in transit and more expensive because of it. My stomach dropped out.

Aurelia's likeness was drawn on the page, her loveliness, her outstanding beauty, captured perfectly. The streaks of white, so like Calia's hair color now that I thought of it, were placed in the right locations. Granny had done a marvelous job explaining her charge, and whoever she'd gotten to draw it up had done so in meticulous detail. At the bottom was listed a substantial sum as a reward.

"I figure something like that was what got Aurelia caught in the Red Lupine town," Dante murmured, his eyes straight ahead.

It surely was. The stall owner in that town had mentioned someone was asking the wrong sorts of questions, and the town guard had easily recognized her from this drawing. There'd be no doubt. Even her beautiful eyes were captured perfectly. Granny left no details to the imagination. She wanted back her prize, the backbone of their operation, and badly. Just as the queen had said.

"You're the only one who has seen this?" I asked, my wolf pacing within me.

"Yes."

"Did you look through his house? Was there anything else?"

"I was told there wasn't, but I figured we should go over it in greater detail in case something was missed."

"Do it." I stared at the likeness for another moment before rolling it back up. Myriad emotions rolled through me: fear, anger, urgency, frustration. Granny had her hooks in almost every kingdom, every market. It had only been a matter of time before someone drew Aurelia's likeness and sent word.

I wasn't sure why this felt so jarring. We'd known this would happen. I needed to shore up our defenses to make sure that even if they knew where she was, they couldn't slip through the cracks and grab her.

"Check all the carts and stalls in every city, town, and village. Make sure the guard is thorough."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll talk to the royals about doing a search in the castle, just in case."

"Begging your pardon, Beta," Dante said, "but maybe Hadriel is the best bet. The royals will make people rush to hide things. Hadriel has that way of digging in the right places without raising suspicion."

This was true. There was no sense in creating intrigue within those who didn't already know what was going on. They'd just gossip, and news we were looking for intel would spread more quickly.

"Given the timeline of the merchant's death, this had to have been sent before our arrival," I said, thinking everything over. "It must've been disseminated when the one in the Red Lupine town was. It was part of the wide net Granny first cast after we discovered Aurelia and the village. Given how hard people who distribute Granny's products in this kingdom are punished, and given the way this was stowed away, there is no way Aurelia's face would be displayed anywhere public. That means only a select few will have seen it, and those are all people who keep their heads down to avoid the dragons' wrath. Unless we find something in the castle, she is safe. For now."

For now .

Was that truly even the case? And if so, how long would it last?

Dante nodded, slowing to a stop. "I heard how it went with the dragons. The dragon queen is ruthless when someone threatens her people. Hadriel thinks she can be reasoned with, though."

"It's too early to tell, but let's hope so."

Dante faced him directly, his gaze intense. "Just know, if they are unreasonable, I'm with you, sir. Getting her out would be the easiest course of action, but whatever needs to be done... I'm with you."

I held his gaze for a moment but didn't nod, looking away before Dante was forced to drop his gaze. Basically, letting him know that the sentiment was appreciated without putting a voice to it. This conversation was dangerously close to treason.

I hoped it wouldn't come to any of that.

"Get after those markets," I told him. "I'll talk to the royals and employ Hadriel. Let's button this kingdom up."

"Yes, sir." Dante turned back the way he'd come without another word.

I walked for a moment longer, turning over the many possibilities. The queen was ruthless when protecting her people, that was true. She was renowned for it, exceptional because of it. Stubborn about it.

Aurelia needed to become one of her people, turned from the enemy into an ally. Then maybe Hadriel and I, and maybe even the king himself, could talk her down from her wrath.

We had to try. My true mate—and the whole kingdom—were at stake.

I disrobed and handed the slip off to the first guard I saw before shifting and heading back to the castle.

Time to see if they had any Granny-sized rats lingering around.

Aurelia

I felt the warning as the emotions registered through the bond, frustrated anger mixed with fear. It was the second time in the space of an hour, once when he seemed pretty far away, and this time within the castle somewhere. A moment later, Weston was on the move.

"Vemar, go," I said quickly, motioning for him to put down the books he carried. We'd been in the library since the last contraption had exploded, killing any further research I could do until I could replace my materials. I'd had to really juice it up to get a reaction.

I now knew the boiling point of Granny's concoction, and I knew that the toxicity was a by-product of heat. What's more, I had a strong suspicion she was taking my preliminary drug-making methods and then amping them up with extra, heat-altered ingredients. I also had a strong suspicion how she'd gotten the idea. Her clues were easy to spot once you looked, and her finished product lacked any sort of finesse.

She'd hired hacks, and why? Because she must've known that I would not intentionally make this stuff. I would've told her how dangerous it was, how it would ruin the product, and refused. I'd done something similar when I accidentally made the concoction that I bet had given her the idea in the first place.

If I'd had any doubt all this was my fault, it had now been laid to rest. I was the mastermind; she'd just done a piss-poor job of replication. The proof made me want to break down and cry.

"Put them anywhere—just go." I waved at Vemar again to put down the books. "Weston is pissed, and I'm the problem. Ugh, I bet Hadriel told on me."

"My little buddy might seem like he doesn't give two shits about anything, but he actually has a very big heart. And yes, unlike you, he tattles if he's worried about someone. I've been told on several times. I take it as a very annoying act of love."

"That's awesome, but you still need to go." I took the books from his hands and put them on the table. "We don't need Weston thinking you had anything to do with this."

"With what?"

I gestured at myself. "With what looks like a body chewed up by monsters and then spat out again. He hates when I get hurt. He's going to freak out that I did this."

"That's sweet of him." He smiled serenely. "It must feel good to have an alpha wolf like him treasure you."

"I—" I furrowed my brow. I hadn't thought of it like that.

I wouldn't be able to now, either. Another feeling rattled my heart, like a drum-beating rallying cry. Something mighty and mean was headed my way, and only one thing made my wolf curl up in a little ball and try to hide.

Panic skittered through me from my wolf, hazing my ability to think. Only one need clawed into my awareness. Flee!

"Shit!" I yelled, shoving at Vemar. "The king must be with him. Run! Hide!"

"What the fuck?" Vemar braced against my push, his muscles going taut. He looked every which way. "Who are we fighting? What is happening? It feels like dread, like an enemy is descending upon us. Captive Lady, are you mind-fucking me again?"

I couldn't stay to wonder at that. I scattered, my body going one way and my brain another. All logic had gone, and my wolf's frantic power jumbled everything else up. I couldn't contain the overwhelming, desperate urge to flee. It rattled my nerves, sending my senses haywire. Fueled by terror, I had one goal and one goal only: get the fuck out of there.

I looked for an exit that wouldn't land me out in the hall, but they all inevitably did. My best bet was the windows. The ones on the second floor sometimes led to the roof. I could get on the roof, skirt across to the other side of the castle, find an open window?—

"Go, go, go!" my wolf yelled at me.

I darted around Vemar and headed for the stairs.

"No, Aurelia, wait! What are you doing?" He ran after me, his long legs able to take two stairs at a time.

I clambered up the ladder against the stacks on the second floor, finding the first window. The window didn't open and the roof was too steep anyway.

"Bugger." Back down the ladder, then I ran to the next.

"Lady, the king won't hurt you just because you hurt yourself. This mind-fucking makes no sense."

Weston's wolf fed me more power. If his wolf was trying to help me escape, that meant bad news.

"Hurry, hurry," my wolf begged, dumping even more power into me. I felt stuffed with it, hazy.

The next window did the trick. I struggled to flick the old, unused lock, but once I did, I cranked the handle and turned, opening it slowly.

"Come on, come on."

"Captive Lady, I can't let you go out that window," Vemar told me, reaching for my ankle.

Weston's power started to pump now. He came faster, running, probably. That presence with him, the thing that had to be the king or something just as dangerous, was moving fast, too. Keeping pace? Ahead of him?

"Run! Faster!" my wolf pushed, wishing she was the one in charge, able to move better, escape faster.

"I have to go," I cried, kicking down at Vemar frantically. "I'm sorry, I have to escape! Fuck!"

The window now open, I hurried to crawl out. Long arms wrapped around my middle. I snarled and turned to snap at him, realizing my teeth weren't quite right. My magic bloomed, pumping strong, urging me on. Weston's was flowing within me through the bond, increasing my potency.

"I'm having a hard time holding her," Vemar shouted. "Careful, her mind-fucking is really powerful right now. I assume that we are not actually under attack."

I kicked off one of his hands and was about to shake off the other to slide out the window when I felt Weston's presence.

"Aurelia, whoa! Hey, it's okay." I stilled, and Weston's hand replaced Vemar's. "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

My wolf simmered down inside of me, feeling his wolf and taking comfort. Her near-takeover of my body and the desire to bite with significantly sharper teeth subsided, allowing for a little logic to trickle back in. I heaved a deep sigh and flattened against the ladder.

"I'm here, Little Wolf. It's okay." Weston's body brushed my heels as he climbed up behind me. He hooked his arms under me to brace on either side of the ladder. "Where you headed?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Just heading out onto the roof so that I could find some other open window and escape some sort of unknown terror coming with you. Nothing big."

"I'm afraid to lean against you. Are these... burns? Is that a piece of glass?"

I rested my chin on a rung. "They haven't all worked their way out yet."

"How— Why—" I felt his sigh against my neck. "Let's get you down, okay? Let's not flee some unknown terror by climbing out the window."

"It's the king. I don't know who is more terrified of that guy, me or my wolf, but he is the unknown terror. I can't get around it. He makes me lose my senses."

"He's a very powerful alpha. I think that's what the problem is. He's the alpha of a place in which you don't feel safe. Your wolf—probably you, too—feel the threat of his power, and, knowing you can't fight it, you run. It's primal, baby. We're going to ease all that in a few hours when we shift, okay? We're going to work through that."

"I don't feel that way with the queen."

"The queen does not view all outsiders as an inherent threat. The king does because of his life during the curse. It'll wear off, I promise. Let's get down."

I let him help me down before he looked me over, his expression pained. "Gods, Aurelia, what have you done?" He pulled out a piece of glass before bending around me to check my backside. His angry eyes belied the frustrated pain coming through the bond, and he shook his head at me. "Stop this. I won't have you hurting yourself like this."

"It's okay. It's doesn't hurt, honest."

His gaze bored into me, intense and penetrating. He would know I spoke the truth because he could feel my lack of pain through the bond. Still, he was not pleased in any way.

He put his fingers under my chin and tipped it up so he could plant a soft kiss to my lips. His soft growl sent shivers through me. "You still smell like me. Good."

Holding me by the hand, he walked with me along the second-floor balcony landing and to the stairs.

"He's here," I warned, embarrassed by my lack of courage.

"Yes. When he heard what state you were in, he wanted to come see for himself. Finley didn't do you justice."

"The queen told on me?"

"Yes. Why, who did you expect ratted you out?"

I didn't say, and he didn't push. We reached the bottom of the stairs and found the king waiting. He wore a plain black shirt, faded blue jeans, and worn black shoes that had long since lost their shine. His hair was in messy spikes, and a dark shadow dusted his defined jaw. His predatory eyes tracked my movements, and I stopped where I was. Honestly, whatever the reason, it was just fucking madness to get too close to that guy. Madness. He could snap me in half, and he seemed too unpredictable to gauge if or when that might happen.

"Aurelia," the king said, his hands behind his back. "I'm Nyfain. My mate has expressed some concern that you are going to kill yourself before we can do it for you."

He gave me what appeared to be a genuine half-smile, his eyes glimmering with humor to sell it. He was using Hadriel's joke. Coming from him, it wasn't all that funny. Still, I could tell he was trying to put me at ease, a kind thing for a king to do.

I played along. "Nah. I've learned how much dragons like violence. I wouldn't want to rob you of the pleasure."

His smile increased and he nodded. "Much appreciated. You have glass sticking out of you, like a porcupine."

"Yeah. It'll fall out eventually. Don't worry, I'll pick it up once it does. I don't leave it lying around or anything."

"It's the truth," Vemar said from the table where my books were stacked. I hadn't noticed him heading that way, but I'd still been on the ladder, trying desperately to climb out a window. "Very considerate, this crazy wolf. Very considerate."

"And the burns—did you need some salve for those?" Nyfain was scanning my limbs.

"Oh no, it's fine. I heal really fast now. Except for this whole need-to-climb-out-of-windows nonsense, the magic is really great."

"Yes." He twisted so he could see Vemar. "Where are your scrapes and bruises?"

"Nothing to see here. She made sure I had armor while she played hero. I'm right as rain."

Now the king focused on Weston. "You didn't send someone after her about this?"

"I did. Me. Finley was the first I'd heard of it."

"Don't you share a bond now? Didn't you feel this?"

Weston glided his fingers over the back of my neck, standing close but not touching anywhere else. He was probably afraid he'd encounter glass. "Barely twinges, like a paper cut. Her tolerance for pain is..." He shook his head. "She endured the same sort of abuse Finley and I did, but at a younger age. She taught herself to go numb against it."

Nyfain's power seeped out of him, giving me those flight butterflies. His gaze was severe. "Aurelia, there is a difference between suppressed healing and magical healing. You might heal quickly now, but that does not mean you are immune to life-threatening or permanent ailments. You still need to take care of yourself. Please be more careful in your pursuits."

"I'll do better," I said automatically.

His power relaxed a bit, my answer sufficient.

"I know the answer, though," I murmured, not wanting to look up and meet his eyes again lest I get the urge to take off. "I did this. I created that coating—the first layers of it, anyway. A while back—years ago—I accidentally made a product with chemicals that made it more habit-forming than the others. Raz was a nightmare. He kept hounding me about it, and he threw up in the work shed more than once. Rather than just fixing it, I asked Granny about it. She then asked around and came back with reports that it was making people feel sick. But we had more orders for it. I fixed it shortly thereafter, and sales fell back to normal. Not right away, but the uptick we'd seen died away. I bet you anything that is what gave her the idea. She's smart. She would've put two and two together."

"But she didn't ask you to change it back?" Weston asked.

"No. I won't put out a product that makes a person feel sick. I might have a shit job that is on the wrong side of the law, but I take pride in my work. Addiction and pain are not what they are for. She clearly took my methods and employed someone else to work them."

"She knows your methods?" Nyfain asked.

"She has a write-up of every new product I make. I turn it in with each crate of that first batch."

"We didn't find anything like that in her city residence," Weston said, looking at Nyfain. "And we didn't hear anything about the second production village until Aurelia was captured. We have no idea where it is."

"The write-up for Project X is at the bottom of the crate, under the product. That's a first batch headed to market. The write-up goes under so it won't flutter away when it's wheeled out to the pickup point. We learned the hard way. As far as that production village... give me time." Determination fueled the fire within me. "My journals seem like only feelings and bad days, but they are helping me remember periods that I clearly didn't want to. I didn't write down a lot of Alexander's news, afraid of the retaliation I'd get if he ever found out, but I remember bits and pieces. I'm trying to remember more. I'm hoping there will be something useful."

The library was quiet for a long beat as everyone looked at me.

"What?" I asked, lifting my eyebrows. "Oh, right. Depressing life. Sorry. Usually Hadriel is on hand to make fun of it and cheer everyone up. Where is he, anyway?"

"He had to see to the queen," Vemar said. "He handles a lot of her day-to-day affairs."

"I must confess," Nyfain said after a beat, "I didn't think you'd try very hard to find a cure knowing a nasty punishment awaited your success. It seems I was wrong. You not only started working at the crack of dawn, you blew yourself up and are reacquainting yourself with a depressing past to accomplish it. It's... well, shocking."

"It's really not. I spent the first part of my adulthood working as hard and diligently as I could to keep from being thrown out with nothing. I'm now spending all that energy to keep from going back to that place and that life. My motives might have changed, but my work ethic has not. I've been trained to grind, been punished if I slack. That sort of mentality doesn't go away overnight. Punishment is just"—I shrugged—"part of life."

"A very depressing life, yes," Vemar said, still looking through the books. He stage-whispered to me, "I'll keep trying to fill in for Hadriel and think of some jokes about it."

"Gee, thanks," I murmured, but couldn't help a smirk. It did actually make things seem less tragic.

The king studied me for another long moment.

"I understand all too well," he finally said. In that moment, all my fears about him relaxed. In that moment, I could tell he knew my struggles and appreciated the hustler, the fighter, the person who didn't know how to say die. It felt like, somehow, we had that in common.

And then Calia ran at me with a knife.