Chapter 13

Ithad been years since Louisa had wept like this. Sobbing into the darkness with ugly, choking gasps, her body slumped, her face hot and sticky in her trembling hands.

Gods, she'd been so stupid. So, so stupid, to think she could attempt such things, have such things. She should have known better, after LordScall, after Kaspar, after gods-damned Rikard. After her last hope had been an orc, and she'd managed to ruin that, too.

Andworst of all, she had liked Ulfarr. She'd wanted him so damned much. He'd felt so good, tasted so good, smelled so good, and he'd clearly intended to be considerate, to follow her lead. And in return, she'd been jumpy and erratic and unpredictable, and she'd told him — to his face! — that she'd be just as happy with his stone… replica.

Gods, no wonder he'd left. In truth, it was a miracle he'd stayed as long as he had. And curse Louisa, what would happen now? What would happen to all Killik's plans and promises? Surely he would withdraw his offer to pay the debts, right? Would he stop the food, too? The help with the property, the terms around caring for her land? WouldLouisa finally need to sell the horses, pension off her staff, give up her home?

Therewere no answers, only dread and misery and regret, and those harsh, wracking sobs into her pillow. And by the time the sobs finally faded, late into the night, Louisa was exhausted and aching all over, with a vicious headache, and scratchy, swollen eyes.

Herstate wasn't at all improved by the bright morning sunlight, streaking through the drapes far too early, and pounding even more pain behind her aching eyes. Gods, how was she going to face this. What the hell was she going to do.

Shegroaned as she rolled over, shoved herself up on shaky arms — and then started, her heart leaping into her throat. Because there, against the wall, was —

Ashadow. Moving. Alive. And making a repetitive shirring sound, over and over, like that of someone sharpening a blade…

Wait. It was — Killik?

Louisa'scharging panic collapsed into a flat, frustrated disappointment, and she rubbed painfully at her swollen eyes. Of course it was Killik. Come to tell her she'd ruined this beyond imagining, and it was all over, forever.

"Well, get it over with, then," her scratchy voice said, as she blinked blearily at his shadowy form in the faint light. "How bad is it?"

Therewas an instant's silence — and then Killik's scoff rang out between them, as he leapt to his feet, and stalked toward her. His lean body coiled, his gleaming dagger clutched in his fist, his eyes flashing with rage.

"You told me you wished for this," he snarled at her. "You wished for my wolf, and you knew of his pain — and you meant to bring him joy, and peace. So why did you then spurn him! Why did you bring him yet more darkness, and more pain and grief!"

Hejabbed his dagger toward her, the blade glinting sharp and deadly, and Louisa cringed backwards on the bed, dragged her trembling hands over her face. "I didn't mean to," she gulped. "I tried, Killik. I really did!"

Killik'sanswering laugh was cold and brittle, and he spun sideways, pacing back and forth across the room. "You did not," he spat. "I have not seen Wolf so lost in many, many moons. Ach, I had to throw out my own bedmate for the eve, and instead spent all this night soothing him, and ploughing him out of his wits. Until he could finally forget his great grief and pain, and sleep! And" — he whirled around and jabbed his dagger toward her again — "you cannot say I have broken my word upon not touching him, for you have failed in your side of this, also!"

Itfelt like he'd slapped Louisa across the face, again and again, because he — Killik really had taken another lover, last night. And then he — he'd ploughedUlfarr, to comfort him. AndUlfarr had been lost, miserable, in pain, because of her — and oh, she could even see it, the darkness in Ulfarr's expressive eyes, the bitterness on his mouth. We can always use that if we need it, can't we —

Louisacouldn't look at Killik anymore, and she blinked miserably down at her knees, her hands clutching tightly together. "I didn't mean to hurt him," she whispered. "I should never have brought up using your stone, I —"

"You brought up what?!" Killik roared, his eyes wild in his hard face. "You told him you should rather have his rassja? Instead of he himself?!"

Louisa'sprickling, pleading eyes blinked at him, her head shaking. "Not — not like that!" she gulped. "I was just trying to comfort him, to make a joke, to help him relax. AndI know it was stupid, I was so stupid, and he didn't —"

Herbreaths were dragging in and out now, her eyes burning with shame and misery, and there was an alarming lump quivering high and close in her throat. "He didn't even — want me," she said, wretched, toward her knees. "And — and no wonder. I was such a frightful mess, I can't do it, I can't get over it, I can't get fucking LordScall out of my head! And now I've ruined everything. I've lost — everything."

Thelast word was a choked, agonizing sob, wrenching from her throat — but now more sobs were pouring from her again, tearing out of her gasping, trembling mouth. And her clammy hands shaking over her face were doing nothing, because Killik could still see it, and hear it, and now he would mock her, and abandon her to drown in her weakness, her shame.

Butthen — something shoved against her hand. Something soft, something —

Oh. A handkerchief. One of Louisa's own handkerchiefs, threadbare but clean. And it was Killik's clawed hand holding it, wanting her to take it — and Louisa's bewildered glance upwards found his eyes distant, his mouth grim. But he wasn't shouting, wasn't condemning her, so she took the handkerchief with tentative fingers, and wiped at her leaking eyes, her nose. Her body was still curled in on itself on the bed, and she only belatedly realized she was still wearing her skimpy, threadbare shift, no doubt giving Killik a clear firsthand view of why Ulfarr had walked away.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said, in something more like her usual voice, once her face felt somewhat dry again. "I really — I really did want it. He was lovely, and patient, and very attractive, and I could tell he was trying to — to make it work. It's just —"

Shegave a shaky, furious wave down toward her clothes, her face, her fear, her foolishness, herself. And oh, gods, the water behind her eyes was welling up again — at least, until Killik thrust something else into her hand. A fresh handkerchief, one that didn't look at all familiar this time.

"Ach, enough, woman," he snapped, though there was no real heat in his voice. "I now follow how this went. Neither of you knew how to face this, so you both faltered, and fell to your fears. Ach?"

Itwas an unnervingly succinct representation of the night's events — at least, from Louisa's point of view — but then she shook her head, mopping at her eyes with the fresh handkerchief. "He didn't," she gulped. "He had every right to leave, and I don't blame him in the slightest. Especially when —"

Sheagain waved angrily down at herself, at her flushed leaking face — when Killik snatched at her hand in midair, his claws sharp against her skin. "I said, enough of this, woman!" he snarled. "There is naught amiss with you, or how you look, or how you scent, or speak, or behave. You ken I should have sought out some weak, stupid, unsightly wretch for my wolf to touch, and cover with his scent?!"

Louisablinked her wet eyes at Killik's face, and attempted to protest — but he clamped his claws tighter against her hand, the pain a distant reassuring whine beneath her skin. "No more," he said flatly. "Ach, you speak and scent just as he did last eve! I am weary of this, and I have no wish to tend to you all day also — and ach, my prick should not grow hard for you after all this, either! You are a strong, capable, comely woman, so you shall stop this whining and pitying, and listen!"

Foran instant, Louisa could only stare blankly toward him — wait, was he implying that he might have considered tending to her, if he hadn't already done so to Ulfarr all night? — and she didn't miss the wince on his mouth, his purposeful glance toward the wall beyond her.

"There is naught amiss with you," he repeated, flatter and slower this time, as if he were speaking to a child. "Wolf longed for this. He longed for you. And he only left because he thought you had no wish for him!"

Louisagrimaced, swallowed, wiped at her wet eyes. Because gods, she'd wanted Ulfarr so damned much. In that moment, she'd wanted him even more than the coin, or the land. She wanted so desperately to escape LordScall, forget LordScall, forever. And if anything could shove LordScall's loathsome ghost out of her life, surely it would be Ulfarr. With his gentle hands, his sweet scent, his sad wounded eyes…

Buteven the thought made Louisa's eyes well up again, her head shaking. "Of course I wanted him," she croaked. "AndI'd be happy to tell him so, but — he surely won't even speak to me again, after all this."

ButKillik only scoffed, and rolled his eyes. "Ach, why do you ken I am here?" he drawled. "To laze about and pass the time with you? To kick up a merry lark with you? Or mayhap to make you squeal upon my wolf's rassja again?"

Louisa'srelief instantly plummeted, into something damnably like hurt, like shame. Of course Killik wouldn't do such things with her, and she already knew that, didn't she? And gods, she would not weep again, not over him, and it took all her willpower to hold her head high, to ignore the painful heat again burning in her cheeks, behind her eyes. She had to try.

"Are you saying you'll take word back to Ulfarr for me?" she managed, through her constricted throat. "A letter, perhaps?"

Somethingshifted in Killik's eyes, but then he shrugged, glanced away. "Ach, if you truly wish for this," he said. "If you choose to write to him, of your own will. It shall have naught to do with me."

Andmaybe Killik still didn't want it, maybe he'd still rather have Ulfarr all to himself — or maybe he still thought Louisa didn't mean it. Maybe he thought she hadn't really wanted it, either.

"I understand," Louisa said, the determination firm in her voice, in her belly. "Of course I'll be happy to write him. At once."

Shedidn't wait for Killik's reply, but instead lurched past him for the writing desk. Where she yanked over her quill, and a fresh sheet of paper — and then stared blankly down at it, her hand hovering over the page. Gods, what was she supposed to write?I was afraid of you? You reminded me of my vile dead husband? Or even more shameful, I don't know how to do this anymore?

"Write him the truth, woman," came Killik's low voice behind her. "He shall not condemn you for this, and I ken it would do you both good."

Right. Louisa nodded, swallowing hard, and then put her quill to the page, and began writing. Making her letter as clear and heartfelt as she could, despite the way her hand kept trembling on the quill.

I had a lovely evening with you, and shall never forget it, she wrote. AndI deeply regret if I hurt you or insulted you during our time together. I would be honoured if you might be inclined to see me again, but of course I understand and accept whatever decision you might choose to make.

Asshe wrote, Killik kept hovering behind her, blatantly reading every word over her shoulder, and after a baleful glance up toward him, Louisa drew in breath, and wrote out a little more. Explaining how her past experiences in such matters had not always occurred in a positive light, and how she perhaps hadn't realized — she had to pause and rub at her prickling face, as the memories burned through her thoughts — how that might carry forward in unexpected or unwelcome ways.

I am most sorry to have visited my own fears upon you, she wrote, her breaths now heavy enough to flutter the page beneath her. You showed me unwarranted patience and generosity, and you deserved far better. No matter your decision upon this, I wish you only the deepest happiness and peace.

In gratitude, Louisa.

Shewas still blinking hard as she blew the ink dry, and thrust the letter up toward Killik. Toward where he was now eyeing it — and her — with distinct, uneasy suspicion. "A very pretty letter," he said, clipped. "Ach, are you some sort of scholar, in secret? One who hides indoors and studies books for fun, and then chatters about them to all you meet?"

Hesounded almost offended, his nose wrinkling with distaste, and Louisa blinked at him, and shook her head. "Gods, no, of course not," she snapped back. "But it was forced onto me as a child, for writing pretty letters is a major portion of a lord's wife's miserable existence."

Anunmistakable relief passed through Killik's eyes, and his gaze lingered on Louisa, for an instant too long. And with a flick of movement, he produced yet another handkerchief, which he raised to her face, wiping at her hot cheek.

"Ink," he said, the curtness of his voice at strange odds with his gentle, still-wiping fingers. "Should not wish to leave you walking about looking like a scholar, then."

Louisablinked again, her skin tingling beneath the bizarre, quiet carefulness of his touch. And she wasn't moving, or even trying to get away, and Killik wasn't stopping, either. His expression shifting as his breath slowly exhaled, shuddering against her skin.

"This letter shall help, I ken," he finally said, as he dropped his hand. "I shall bring you word of Wolf's answer. And also, as I vowed" — he plucked a jingling bag out of his pocket, and dropped it onto her desk — "your first payment."

Herfirst payment? Louisa stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending — but right, right, the contract had promised twenty percent after the first night, and eighty percent at the end of all ten. And had Killik still counted that as the first night, after all?

Butwhen Louisa opened her mouth to ask, Killik had already spun around, and stalked for the door. Closing it behind him with a decisive thud, and leaving her sitting there staring after him, still breathing too hard, her heart kicking unevenly in her chest.

Maybethere was still hope. Maybe they could still make this work. And if nothing else — her shoulders sagged, her breath exhaling — Killik had given her this. The payment.

Sheopened the bag with trembling hands, and counted it all out once, and then again. And yes, yes, it turned out to be exactly as much as Killik had promised. A truly shocking amount of coin, more than she'd seen at once in many, many years.

Itwas enough to prod her back to her feet again, and she washed at the basin, and put on her best day dress. And then, after a quick bite of breakfast with her staff and the children, she saddled May, and headed back into town. First to her banker Bycroft, who took Killik's coin with palpable confusion, but then informed her it would be enough to cover her staff's monthly salaries, her debts' current interest owing, and even a little of the principal, too. And next Louisa went to her usual lawyer Matts, and asked him to review a copy of Killik's contract — with a few key points removed — and to ensure there were no possible loopholes, or looming legal quagmires.

Butit all seemed sound enough — Killik had clearly done his research — and Louisa headed home with a grim, resigned gratefulness. Her staff were paid. Her property was safe, for now. And if Ulfarr agreed to come back — and if she could manage to spend the next nine nights with him without panicking — she could still do this. Right?

Butonce Louisa returned home, and then threw herself into what should have been an enjoyable afternoon of hunting, she still couldn't find the hope, or the peace. And instead, her cursed thoughts kept wheeling back to Killik, to Ulfarr, to that damned letter.

HadUlfarr received the letter by now? What would he think of it? Would he actually consider returning? Or, more likely, would he think the letter embarrassingly forward, for a woman who had already so thoroughly embarrassed herself? Would he laugh at it, or throw it away? Swear never to see her again?

Bythe time the sun was setting, still with no sign of Killik — or any viable game for supper, other than a highly alarming skunk — Louisa was fully convinced the letter had been a total waste, just like her afternoon spent hunting. And with a heavy sigh, she finally turned back toward the house, trudging through the trees, rubbing at her prickling eyes. Of course it had been useless, what else had she —

Whensuddenly, something dropped down before her. Something tall and grey and far too close, sending Louisa reeling backwards, her heart screeching in her chest. It was — Killik?

Butyes, yes, it was Killik, rising gracefully from his crouch, and giving a longsuffering roll of his eyes. "What did you ken I was, a porcupine?" he said dryly. "A wandering chicken?"

Louisa'sheart was still pounding too loud, her breaths quick and shallow — but her mouth twitched, and she attempted a halfhearted glower toward him. "Well, then?" she demanded. "What did Ulfarr say to the letter?"

Asmall smile curled across Killik's mouth, smug and satisfied. "Ach, this helped, as I knew it would," he replied. "He did not believe you had written it, at first, but it was luck that you wept upon it, and thus, he could scent this."

Luck, that Louisa had wept on the letter, and she kept glaring at Killik, waiting. But he was enjoying this, damn him, plucking one of his daggers out of his hair, and giving it a leisurely whirl. "He has never before had a letter from a woman, ach?" he continued, with relish. "He read this again and again, and then demanded I tell him all you said and did. For once" — his smile was a full-on smirk, now — "all this weeping and wailing served to my gain, ach?"

Louisarolled her eyes back toward him, but her alarm and irritation had entirely faded, in place of a strange, lurching eagerness. "And then? What did he say?"

Killikkept smirking at her, and gave another lazy whirl of his dagger. "He said it was a pretty letter," he replied blandly. "And that you write" — he betrayed a faint wince — "just as sweetly as a Ka-esh."

As a Ka-esh. That was another one of the five orc clans, Louisa vaguely recalled, and — she cast her thoughts backwards — it had been the clan that sweet scholarly girl Rosa had been affiliated with, right? A clan Killik didn't want involved with his precious wolf, perhaps.

"Very well, but what then?" Louisa demanded, now playing straight into the smug bastard's hands, but Killik's expression shifted again, back to triumph, or even relief. As if — as if he really did want this to work, too. As if he'd genuinely welcomed Louisa's letter, and her concerted attempt at making amends.

"Then," Killik drawled, his eyes almost warm on Louisa's face, "he bathed, and dressed, and braided his hair. And he now sits in your bedroom, and awaits your return."

Wait. Ulfarr was in Louisa's bedroom? Waiting for her? Now?

Louisacould only stare at Killik, her heart now galloping against her ribs, as his smile curled even higher, into something dark, something dangerous, full of menace and glee.

"So you shall ready yourself, and come to us," he said. "And this time" — his voice dropped, into a soft, vicious threat — "this time, I shall make sure you scream."