Authors: Kessie Carroll
Tags: #werewolf, #werewolf book, #werewolf romance, #werewolf love story, #werewolf love, #werewolf couple
Bernard awaited her in the ballroom, where he
was sniffing the floor and snorting. "There you are. Are you all
right?"
She nodded. Words could not convey the sick
horror growing in her heart.
He hurried to her and nuzzled her face.
"Let's leave this place. Too much death. But if my scrollstone is
still in my laboratory, we may yet set things to rights."
***
They jumped out of the ballroom windows, and
jogged around the back of the mansion toward the small cottage near
the stables. Its windows were shuttered, as if it had escaped the
looters' attention. But the door was open. Bernard slowed and
listened, ears uplifted.
Charlotte halted beside him. "What is
it?"
"Someone's inside."
Charlotte shrank sideways into the shade of
the stables, ears flattened to her skull. Bernard nodded. "Stay
hidden, my lady. I'll investigate."
Best that she remain out of sight. The
thought of her in a fight sent a wave of sickness through him. She
remained a lady, even in a wolf's hide. Whatever happened to them,
he hoped she retained her humanity.
His own humanity was another matter. He sank
into a half-crouch and stalked to the door, fur rising in a strip
along his spine. A chair with a missing leg propped open the door.
Someone shuffled inside. The intruder's scent filled his nostrils.
Human male, laced with the ozone odor of a mage. Why was a mage
investigating his laboratory? It wasn't Kryn. Perhaps another of
the Mage School...
Hope warring with apprehension, Bernard
shifted positions to peer through the door.
Inside the laboratory stood a tall, robed man
with a gray beard. He paged through one of Bernard's books, and
gripped a staff in his other hand.
A growl bubbled in Bernard's chest. Worse
than a looter, or even a hunter—it was the man responsible for the
curse's spread. Bernard's growl rose into words. "Allard!"
The archmage looked up and smiled. "Ah,
Bernard Preston. I see that your little experiment was a
success."
Bernard entered the doorway and rose to two
legs, brandishing his razor-sharp claws. "You should fear me."
"Actually no," said Allard with a pleasant
smile. "You cannot harm me, you know. I bear the Alpha Staff." He
pointed it at Bernard.
Compulsion struck Bernard. He staggered
backward and crashed to his haunches. His wolf body desired to
grovel before Allard, and only his strength of will kept him
upright.
The desire to explain himself crept over him
in a prickle of guilt. "I found a treatment to the werewolf curse.
I tried it on myself the night they broke free."
"And retained your sanity." Allard stroked
his beard. "Yes, I've been reading your notes with great interest.
Have you managed to reverse the transformation?"
"No. That would have been the next stage of
the experiment."
"Fascinating." Allard turned his back and
crossed the room to the alchemy apparatus. He struck it with the
staff, shattering the delicate glass vials. Chemicals splashed the
floor. Bernard twitched and whimpered. The cure mingled with other
potions, hopelessly ruined.
"I had heard that the mage society was
seeking a cure for the werewolf curse." Allard picked up a book and
laid it on a table, beside Bernard's notebook. He added a few
scraps of paper. "I had not realized that they were so close to
finding one. Alchemy cannot cure a curse, but you've modified the
curse's effects instead. Most ingenious."
Allard snapped his fingers, and the books and
paper leaped into flame.
"No!" cried Bernard, but he could not lift a
finger.
Allard stepped out of the laboratory. "Why
don't you have a seat inside?"
The Staff dragged at Bernard's lupine body
and instincts. Bernard resisted so fiercely that he toppled forward
and struck his sensitive nose on the doorstep. He yelped and tears
of pain blinded him. His body succumbed to the Staff and he crawled
inside on his belly, cringing like a dog at its master's feet.
Sparks from the burning books drifted into his fur.
"It was convenient of you to show up today,"
Allard said. "You saved me the trouble of hunting you in the
woods." He closed the laboratory door and turned the lock.
Smoke filled the room and Bernard coughed.
The Staff's command held him in place, as if a stronger mind
checked his muscles. The flames climbed from the burning notebooks
toward the book shelves of priceless books and scrolls. Heat
billowed into his face and he whimpered. Did he dare call for
Charlotte? What if Allard lingered nearby and saw her emerge from
the stables? Bernard dug his claws into the wood floor. It was too
easy to imagine Allard immobilizing her with the Staff and burning
her to death. No! Bernard would break out of the compulsion
himself. If only the flames did not distress him so deeply--
The lock clicked and the door flew open.
Charlotte stood framed in the doorway, eyes wide and nostrils
flared. Her white fur reflected the orange flames. For an instant,
he glimpsed the woman beneath the wolf hide—petite, delicate, and
with the determined strength of a lion. She seized his forearm and
dragged him out of the burning cottage.
"Thank you," he said, and coughed until he
gagged.
Charlotte watched the flames climb the wall.
"He tried to burn you alive! Should I save anything?"
Bernard nodded, hardly able to speak.
"Books."
Charlotte ducked inside and pulled down an
entire shelf of books. She carried them outside, dumped them on the
grass, and returned for another armload.
She saved everything on the shelves, but
Bernard's notes had been reduced to ash. The pair sat at a safe
distance, watching smoke billow from the door and windows, Bernard
still hacking and wheezing. Gradually he recovered, and watched his
lab burn with his ears flattened to his head.
He had lost his work and nearly his life. But
his wife, bless her, was made of stronger stuff than he'd
suspected. So what if she'd fled a snarling wolf? She'd rescued him
from Allard's trap, and that was what mattered. It filled him with
fresh tenderness. He put a forearm around her and licked her face.
Yet it simply wasn't the same as kissing her with human lips. For
the first time, he longed for his human body.
Charlotte looked at him anxiously. "Is the
antidote lost?"
"Of course not." His yellow eyes were
sorrowful. "I carry the formula in my head. But the elixir takes
many stages to create, and my iterations and ingredient lists are
gone. I'll have to start from scratch."
"He tried to kill you, even though he spoke
with you!" she exclaimed. "That's wicked! What man deliberately
leaves another to die in such a manner?"
"He is a powerful man, and such men are
dangerous when their power is threatened." He was interrupted by
the whistle of magefire. A bolt of blue light splashed at their
feet, frosting the grass.
"Run!" barked Bernard. The pair sprinted for
the woods. Behind them, more frost missiles descended on the
burning building as mages dealt with the fire.
"What about your books?" panted Charlotte as
they gained the cover of the trees.
"The mages will salvage them. They're
valuable."
They plunged into the forest's shelter, a
pair of heartsick werewolves.
Chapter 8: Capture
Bernard and Charlotte ran half a mile through
the woods. At last Bernard scented a brook, and halted beside it to
lap water down his aching throat. Charlotte did the same.
Allard had burned the laboratory. Rage
seethed in Bernard's heart. It was difficult to gather his thoughts
and plan their next move—his only desire was to sink his teeth into
Allard's throat.
Charlotte murmured, "Bernard..."
"What?"
Her ears flattened. "Are you all right?"
"No," he growled. "I've lost everything and
the man responsible walks free. I want to kill him!" His voice rose
to a roar, the words slurring together.
Charlotte backed away from him, eyes wide.
"Bernard, the Staff harmed you. Please, return to yourself!"
Bernard breathed in great snorts, teeth
bared. Thoughts of blood and violence clouded his brain. He dipped
his muzzle in the stream, and the icy shock calmed him.
It was as if the Staff's compulsion had
pushed back the elixir's effect, letting the wolf rush to the
forefront. Or perhaps the magic interacted with the potion in some
way. He wanted to kill and maim, and run wild through the woods
with his kind. He stared at Charlotte, and it took him a moment to
remember who she was. Not just a pack member. His wife. Charlotte,
whom he had grown to love.
He whispered, "Charlotte, hold me."
She threw both arms around his neck and
rested her head against his cheek. "Come back, my love. Don't let
the wolf take you."
The combination of her touch and voice
soothed him. The murderous thoughts faded, eased by his wife who
dared remain with him.
After a while he said, "Am I truly your
love?"
"Yes," she breathed in his ear. Her voice
grew husky. "And I can't bear the thought of losing you to insanity
or death."
He drew slow, calming breaths, and the heat
within him cooled. Allard was not worth sacrificing the last of his
humanity.
"Please talk to me," she whispered. "I don't
understand why Allard is doing this. He tried to kill you over the
cure--but why?"
Bernard settled himself beside her. "I've
worked with the man and I can certainly guess. Allard despises
Grayton's isolationist policy. Remember the goblin war several
years ago, when Allard created the Alpha Staff to control the
wolves?"
Charlotte nodded.
"We had just finished constructing the
Grayton Wall, cutting off our land from our neighbors. But it cut
us off from commerce, as well. Allard's wealth comes from
generations of trading with the surrounding nations. If I had to
guess, I would say that he plans to curse everyone in Lyedyn City,
breach the wall and set himself up as king, with all of us as his
slaves."
Charlotte made a small gasping, "Oh." After a
long moment, she added, "I never agreed with the isolationist
decree, but I don't believe this is the proper way to resolve the
matter."
They rested for a long while, nestled side by
side. Charlotte dozed on the edge of the stream, and her trembling
subsided. After a while she sat up again, and found Bernard
watching her with a wistful expression. She met his gaze. "What
shall we do now?"
He heaved a sigh. "The mage tower is on the
eastern side of the city. If I could get close enough to speak to
someone, I might convince them to listen to me before they kill me
outright."
"Let's go slowly so you can rest." She
couldn't face more danger and the threat of losing Bernard so
soon.
They set off toward the southeast, making a
wide circuit around the outskirts of Lyedyn City, pausing often to
listen and smell for enemies. This area was thick with the scent of
both humans and werewolves. Buildings stood empty and ransacked.
Carcasses of cows and horses lay in the fields, ravaged by hungry
wolves and lesser scavengers. But there were no human remains.
Either the wolves had eaten them, or they had become wolves.
As they neared the Mage district, Charlotte's
dread intensified. What if they approached the tower and the mages
blasted them from a distance with fireballs? It was far too easy to
picture Bernard lying on the ground, writhing in agony as he
died.
"Bernard, how do we keep them from killing
us?"
Bernard didn't answer. He prowled in a
half-crouch, his movements oily. His eyes had taken on a brute
blankness. A shudder rippled down Charlotte's back. He was slipping
again, and her first impulse was to run before he turned on her.
But no! She was the only one who could call him back.
"Bernard!" She seized his forearm.
He turned on her with a flash of white teeth,
like a dog whose tail had been pulled. She yelped and backed away.
He'd bitten her arm, and blood welled through her fur. "Bernard!
Why?"
He gazed at her for a long moment with flat
yellow eyes. Then slowly his expression changed to one of remorse,
and his eyes deepened. "Oh Charlotte, I'm so sorry!" He stepped
forward and licked her wounded arm.
She panted in fear, half-expecting him to
bite her again. "What is wrong with you?"
"I think the Staff strengthened the curse.
The elixir is failing. I must give the formula to the mages
before--" he broke off and bathed her arm vigorously.
"What about me? If you lose your mind, I--I
can't live without you." She meant to say that she would not
survive without him, but as she spoke the words, she realized their
truth. If he became a mindless beast and she somehow returned to
her human life, she'd return to her lonely, selfish ways--but
tormented by the memory of love.