Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Gray

A fter the events that unfolded last evening, it is little wonder I do not sleep a wink. I should be worrying about the ship coming in. Instead, I'm thinking about a pretty wench who works in the tavern and who will soon be wedded to another man.

Not a man, I amend, but a shifter who carries royal blood.

Won't that be a fucking surprise?

That is not my problem. I have made it not my problem, and now I will walk away. My life was already complex, yet I feel a little dead inside today.

I have a task to do. It is the reason I am in this godforsaken city at all. Today will see the culmination of our long travels, many fruitless searches, and dashed hopes.

Maybe it will be another empty promise.

I do not think so. Some gut instinct tells me that they are really on this ship.

I hope that they are. I hope we can liberate them and, by doing so, lift this great burden from my shoulders that I have carried around for far too long.

My mind circles, as it has many times before, into wondering how Lizbeth and my brother might be. Hoping for the best, I also fear the worst. Anyone who has known incarceration for so long will surely carry scars.

I will do the right thing by Lizbeth, the woman who promised to be my mate. Although my heart does not belong to her, maybe a love of a different kind can grow, with time. One that is more about friendship. However much it pains me, I will bury my feelings, for her sake.

My wolf turns his back on me, bemoaning that she is a shifter and that her wolf will know.

But Ada is already taken—she was quick to point out that she loved the blacksmith bastard.

He is lying to her, hiding his nature, wooing her under false pretenses.

How will she react?

Does she already see signs of his nature when they rut…? Fuck, I will not think about that now.

Drake's words play heavily upon my mind. He is convinced the lad doesn't even know. Maybe I should've done more for him, and coached Callum regarding what he will become.

Does that make me a selfish bastard to walk away?

I only know helping him would bring me more pain than my wolf could bear.

After a restless night, dawn breaks, and I throw aside my covers and pad over to the window. It has snowed heavily during the night. The rooftops are white, while the cobble streets are lumpy with snow that poorly disguises the mud and slush left by the passage of carts and people.

The ship is due to arrive at noon. Word came in last evening that it was sighted and anchored off the coast. Another ship, The Minstrel, is similarly anchored offshore. A long boat waits away from the main wharf, with crew ready to take us back to said ship with passage to our homelands, far to the south of here.

At least, that is the plan.

I feel so fucking weary, as if a year's worth of searching has suddenly caught up with me. And even as I acknowledge my own situation, I need only reflect upon my younger brother and the woman I agreed to mate.

My challenges are inconsequential compared to theirs.

As the weak sunlight fights against the heavy, snow-filled clouds, I sense the change in the air.

My mind turns inward, taking me far from here, back to a distant land, thickly forested, where my soul belongs.

I do not often pray to the Goddess, but I seek her guidance today.

Ada

Somehow, I get up and go about my day. But all the while, guilt assails me—guilt for what I have done. There is no taking it back. I have been foolish. Worse, I have betrayed the man that I supposedly love.

There is no supposing about it—I love Callum. What happened was merely a mistake, one that I will take with me to the grave. That is my penance.

I need to get my thoughts straight before I can see Callum, so I scrub every nook and cranny of The Green Man until my fingers are raw.

"What are you doing, lass?" Betsy asks. "You have been scrubbing all morning. The tavern has never looked so spic and span."

"I had trouble sleeping," I admit. "And needed a distraction."

Her face immediately softens. "Oh, lass, I am sorry. You could have come and talked to me."

Now I feel guilty all over again that she assumes there is a righteous reason for my vigorous scrubbing when, in fact, the answer is not one I am proud of. I drop the scrubbing brush back into the bucket of water and straighten up, rubbing my sore back. "Do you think your father would let us nip to the market? I wanted to get a ribbon for… the wedding."

Her face breaks out into a smile. "Of course he would. Let's go right now."

Her enthusiasm is infectious, putting a smile back on my face. I can do this. I can find that joyful place again, put this foolishness aside, and remember how lucky I am to have Callum in my life.

I take the bucket and scrub brush out the back, and tip the water away. Then I set them to dry on the cobbles before gathering my cloak from the hook. When I return to the tavern, Betsy is talking to Tim.

"Enjoy yourself, lasses," Tim says, with a broad smile. "It's not long until the wedding, now."

"Thank you, Tim. It is!"

Betsy slips her arm through mine. We head outside into the snow.

There was a time when I hated how the snow found the gaps in my poorly mended shoes and made my toes cold. Now, courtesy of kind neighbors, I have new boots and a thick cloak that protects me from the winter weather. While my cheeks and nose are soon chilly, the rest of me is warm.

I smile—one that finally feels genuine.

The market is busy, with shoppers hustling between the stalls as sellers call out their wares. Mid-morning is always a popular time. We make our way through the throngs to the section of the market where the craft stalls are found. I have visited the market a few times now with Betsy and am familiar with the stall that holds all the pretty ribbons.

For many people, a ribbon is a simple thing to buy. Yet, for me, it is another one of those frivolous purchases that are so new.

With no wedding dress, this ribbon will be the only adornment I wear. The service will be simple, as many weddings are here in Bleakness, and held at the chapel a few streets down.

The vendor smiles indulgently as we coo over the different colors.

"This one," Betsy says, indicating a summer blue color. "It will look pretty against your hair and set off your eyes. Please say you will take this one."

"Fine, then," I agree.

The trader cuts a length for me, carefully folding it up in a piece of brown paper. I hand over the coin, take the package, and slide it into my coat pocket.

"Let's stop at the baker's on the way back," Betsy says. "This shopping for ribbons is hungry work."

With her arm tucked in mine, we leave the market, heading to the baker we love.

I shouldn't have let Gray do those things. I should have stopped him. As the snow flutters down, I reflect that I wanted everything that happened, that it was Gray who finally saw sense and stopped things before we both made a terrible mistake.

He also said his wolf had imprinted upon me and that it was not uncommon for them to take more than one mate among his kind.

My tummy takes a slow tumble as I imagine having both the men in my life, my sweet blacksmith and my grumpy shifter.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. "He said he was mated," I blurt out loud.

Betsy slows to a stop and turns toward me.

We have both stopped in our tracks.

I fidget and look down, finding a sudden interest in my shoes. What possessed me to say such a thing?

"Gray," I finally admit, lifting my eyes to meet hers.

"Well, I didn't know that," Betsy says, frowning. "Where is she, then?"

I shrug. "He mentioned he had a mate… last night… when I came down to get a drink of water."

Her eyebrows raise ever higher as I continue to ramble.

"He can't have a mate," she says confidently. "He's been here for weeks. Months. No wolf shifter could be away from his mate that long." She sends a speculative look my way. "Something happened between you two?"

"I kissed him. He kissed me." I'm not quite sure if what we did could technically be called kissing, but saying that much is safer than saying that he kissed me there… while in his beast form.

"That's quite a development," she says. "Last night, he explained about his wolf imprinting on you, which was why he killed the men for daring to put you in harm's way. But if it is only a kiss, that is not such a worry. And besides, they are leaving today. They checked out of the tavern, and paid Pa this morning before they left. Still, I'm not convinced he can really be mated, whatever he said. He is an alpha wolf shifter. Their kind cannot be separated from a mate for so long. They have been here for months… so, unless he's hiding her away somewhere... And how could he even imprint upon you if he has a mate?"

"He mentioned shifters sometimes have more than one." Goodness. Why did I start this conversation?

"Well, I dare say he knows more about such things than I do," she says, although she does not look convinced. "Second mates must be a complex business."

"I don't want to be Gray's second mate. I already have Callum. I am confident I would scratch the eyes out of any woman who put her hands on my men…" I snap my mouth shut.

Betsy bites her lip, poorly disguising her smirk. "There, maybe I can make a hussy out of you after all."

"I love Callum."

Her face softens, and she leans in to hug me. "I'm sorry, Ada. I didn't mean to make light of your predicament. I always thought there was a spark between you and Gray, and shifters do have more complex matters when it comes to mating: having multiple mates, and even sharing a mate. But it is always an agreement that is acceptable to all. If you love Callum and not Gray, maybe this is all just nerves manifesting these confused emotions. It was unfair of Gray to be going around kissing a lass and declaring that his wolf has imprinted without speaking to Callum and this mysterious mate he has hidden away first. That is just not the way things are done."

I play catch up with everything she just said. The conversation has only made me more confused.

Something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye… a familiar shape—Gray, enswathed in a cloak. At his side is another familiar figure, Drake.

My heart does a telltale giddy-up just seeing him.

He is leaving today, she said. Gods, why does that hurt so much?

But, he lied to me. He also ate out my pussy and made me come so hard I saw stars. How dare he tell me he is mated, when he is not. I believe Betsy. Every instinct in my body says a mated wolf shifter cannot touch another. Only the moment I realize this, I question how it is possible for me to love Callum and also Gray…

No. I don't love Gray. I cannot. Lust after him, maybe. I don't even want to lust after him. He is a disagreeable man with a constant scowl on his face. Why I find him attractive is a mystery even to me. He is gruff and grumpy, and, further, he seems to go out of his way to intimidate me whenever I must serve him.

I frown, tracking their movement as they head toward the markets.

Betsy turns to see what I am staring at so avidly. "Is that Gray?" She sounds as confused as I feel.

Ahead of Gray and Drake, I see two people dart into the crowd.

Gray and Drake follow, their steps purposeful.

Why are they following them?

Suddenly, the young couple dart out of the crowd and into a nearby alleyway. Gray and Drake take off in pursuit.

Before I can second-guess myself, I am likewise hot on their heels.

"Ada!" Betsy hisses, her footfall following me. "Ada, what are you doing?"

"Hush," I say, still running after them. In this moment of clarity, lots of things begin to make sense. I saw that couple's faces when they saw him: shock and fear before they ran, hand in hand. Gray's face was thunderous before he took off after them.

My mind is a jumble of impressions and poorly formed conclusions, but I need to see more—to see what happens. And if I can thwart him, then I will.

I catch another glimpse. The young couple's hands still cling together, even as the young man lowers his arm to her waist, urging her on.

My legs burn from the chase. The only reason I can keep up is that my smaller size makes navigating the crowds easier.

Gray doesn't have a mate. No: he is trying to take somebody else's!

The deep betrayal I feel burns. Why did I let him kiss me? Why did I let him kiss me there?

Oh, I am so better off with Callum, who I love and who loves me. I am so cross with myself even as I want to beat on the male who dares to try to snatch somebody else's lass.

What madness is going on in his mind?

Is his wolf deranged?

Only, Goddess, his wolf. I cannot think of his soft fur, nor his snout pressing against me in the most scandalous way. I won't think about it ever again—I shall purge it from my mind.

The crowd moves between us, and all I catch is them disappearing around a corner.

I race on, coming to a skittering stop at a corner.

"Ada!" Betsy hisses, breathless with the chase. "Something tells me we should not get involved."

"I need to see," I say, already taking a deep breath before I peer around the corner.

Drake has the lad, and Gray has the lass.

They fight.

The lass squeals until Gray clamps a hand over her mouth.

Drake shakes the younger man, who is large by human standards. Something tells me he is a shifter, almost as tall as Drake, although his build is leaner.

A distinct tearing sound snags my attention as Gray rips a strip from the lass's skirt and binds it around her mouth.

Drake cuffs the lad when he tries to interfere and gripping the back of the neck to direct him roughly onward.

"Oh, they are snatching her!" I whisper. "Look at them. Look at what they do."

"They can't be. We must be mistaken," Betsy says, although her tone lacks conviction.

"What does it look like?" I demand. "What does it look like to you? He lied about being mated, and now he is stealing someone else's! He is a thief and a villain. I always knew as much."

"Oh, I don't know what we should do," Betsy says. "Maybe we should call the city guardsmen?"

"There is not enough time," I say.

"Ada!"

She reaches for me, but it's too late. I dart around the corner and charge them with all my righteous anger. At my screech of fury, four heads swing my way.

Drake and the lad stand a little apart. Gray has tossed the young girl over his shoulder.

Bastard.

Shock and confusion register on the faces of the young lass and lad. Drake's jaw hangs slack.

And Gray, the man who pleasured me so well last night, the man who has betrayed my heart and who I now hate, dares to smirk as I reach his side and commence pounding on his shoulder.

"Let her down, villain," I say, kicking his shin for good measure.

He grunts and reaches to peel me away by the scruff of my neck. He gives me a little shake. "What the fuck are you doing, Ada?"

I hiss at him and rake his wrists, getting another good kick in.

"Oof! Fuck's sake, lass!"

"Let them go," Betsy says, her voice close.

I twist and glance over my shoulder, finding her brandishing a large plank of wood in her shaking hand.

"Careful with that, lass," Drake says. "Lest you hurt poor Ada."

Betsy sneers. "Let my friend go, lest I beat you all to a bloody pulp... And the other two, while you're about it."

"No. I don't think I shall," Gray says ominously, dragging me close and plastering me against his side. His scent fills my lungs, and I hate how my stupid body wants to swoon.

I growl in a fury, sure the weak-minded shifter scum is only holding me close for protection to stop Betsy from beating him.

The lass over his shoulder grunts behind her gag and struggles on his shoulder.

"Here, give the lass to me," Drake says.

Gray growls.

I manage to wrench an arm free and beat his chest with renewed vigor.

"I did not mean Ada," Drake says dryly. "Give me Lizbeth, for fuck's sake. Arlo won't give us any fucking trouble. He will follow where she goes."

Gray's growl takes on a menacing tone that raises the hairs on the back of my neck and stops my fight.

"Betsy, get away while you can," I say. "Get help."

"I won't leave you," she says, her voice breaking.

Gray releases the girl into Drake's care and turns all his focus upon me. Pinning my wrists at the small of my back, he locks a hand around my throat. The look on his face is fierce but also intent. His eyes are extra bright and blue and seem to swirl with dark emotions.

My traitorous body responds. He knows, the faintest lifting of his lips telling me he scents me.

He raises his head and stares over my shoulder, pinning Betsy with a look.

I gasp as his claws spring from his fingertips to prick the skin of my throat.

"Go on your way, Betsy," he says. "Lest you want to see me rip this sweet lass's throat out and leave her bleeding on the floor, you will not fucking interfere."

My heart is hammering. I don't want to believe he would, yet I also fear that he might.

Gray's smile is very sinister as he turns it upon me.

I tremble. He could rip my throat out in an instant. I have seen what those claws can do.

"Tell your friend to go, lass. Tell her to go now."

"Please go, Betsy. Please. I cannot bear for you to be hurt, too. You cannot help me. You know it. All you will do is put yourself in danger. If you go, you can let," I must swallow past the sudden lump in my throat "Callum know."

I hear Betsy sob and the clatter as she drops the wood. "I will get help, Ada. They will not get away with this." Her rapid footfall fades away.

The claws collaring my throat retract before a human thumb brushes with fake tenderness over my chin.

"We need to go," Drake says gruffly. "Now, before we draw any more fucking attention."

Gray hoists me over his shoulder and takes off at a run, using the back alleyways and a route he appears familiar with. We leave the city center behind, heading toward the slums and poorest areas where the lesser ships and boats dock. Here, I am gagged, bound, and bundled into a longboat with the lad and the lass.

Six strong men row us out to where a mighty galleon is anchored not far from the shore.