“If I am a cursed werewolf and not a born werewolf like you, then what makes you think I can ever learn to control it?”
Etienne’s visage softened. “Because I will help you. Just as I pulled you out of your wolf form and just as I soothed your wolf to keep it at bay, I can help you as you find your own balance. With my help, you will never have to be afraid again.”
Tears burned Loupe’s eyes as they pooled to blur her vision. He spoke with such certainty. Was it really possible? Could she hold on to this powerful, controlled feeling forever? Could the wolf inside her be a source of strength instead of fear, a tool for protection instead of a liability?
“What did I ever do to deserve you?” she asked softly.
Etienne smiled a wide, open smile. “Loupe, you have done more for me than you know. I will explain everything in the carriage.”
Loupe just nodded, too overwhelmed to speak anymore. Together, they trudged back through the woods, back to the prince’s carriage. As they finally left the cover of the trees, Etienne froze.
“What the blazes?”
Loupe frowned at Etienne’s dumbfounded expression. When she finally looked at the carriage, she realized what had startled him.
It was the fairy horse.
“Your Highness, it’s the oddest thing,” a man standing beside the coach said, scratching his head. “A breeze blew my hat off and by the time I retrieved it, your royal horse had run off and this beastie was harnessed in its place.”
“Oh, who’s a good boy?” Loupe cooed, moving to the horse’s side. The horse whinnied happily, nudging her chest with its snout. Loupe laughed and petted its velvety soft nose.
“I swear it’s disgusting how he ingratiates himself to you.”
The tiny voice lifted Loupe’s spirits even higher and she looked up to see the tiny pixie perched on the coachman’s seat. Loeg crossed his arms, still glaring at the horse.
“Loeg, my friend, it’s so good to see you again,” Loupe said sincerely. Her throat constricted with emotion as she struggled to find some way to thank Loeg for everything he’d brought into her life. The pixie turned to look at her and the lines of his face softened into a smile.
“Don’t cry now, girl, don’t cry,” he grumbled. “How’s the foot?”
Loupe froze. Her foot. She’d forgotten!
She stared down at the foot that had been missing a toe only hours ago, shocked speechless to find that it was once again whole. She lifted her gaze to stare at Loeg. The little pixie sat there with an expression somewhere between smug and incredulous.
“I fixed it. You mean you didn’t notice?” He rolled his eyes and spared a glance toward Etienne. “You must be some prince to take a girl’s mind off a severed toe.”
A fierce blush set fire to Loupe’s cheeks and Loeg chuckled.
“It was the shoe, see? I put it on your foot while you were changing. Didn’t know if it would work or not, but figured it was worth a shot.”
Etienne strode over so suddenly he startled Loeg. The pixie shot into the air, eyeing the prince warily.
“I owe you a debt,” Etienne said seriously. “You have an ally in me and my family.”
The pixie’s face eased and he floated back down to sit on the seat once again. “Oh. Splendid, I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned to Loupe. “Nice bite on Danette, by the way. Little heathen screamed like a banshee until mummy dearest came home.”
Loupe waited for a surge of fear at the mention of her stepmother, but none came. Instead, her blood grew hot, a strange tingling tickling her jaw. She had the most powerful urge to bite something.
Etienne took her hand in his and she glanced over at him.
“We will take care of them,” he told the pixie, his voice smooth and calm. He looked over at Loupe. “Won’t we, my love?”
Loupe’s smile was instantaneous and sincere. “That we will. My love.”
Chapter 14
Six months later…
“Loupe, you have such a beautiful smile. Tell me, what has you in such high spirits this time?”
Loupe beamed wider at the queen, not even caring when the knitting in her hands began to unravel again. The cottony soft threads cushioned her hands as she dropped them into her lap.
“I just can’t believe how incredibly lucky I am. After marrying Etienne, I didn’t think I could possibly get any happier. But these past few months, having you and the king—”
“Your father,” the queen insisted.
Loupe’s throat tightened and her heart clenched to see the affection glistening in the queen’s eyes. Her mother’s eyes. “Father,” she agreed softly. “Having you and father in my life has been the greatest gift…”
She choked and had to fall silent, too emotional to keep speaking. Blinking away tears of joy, she laughed to find the queen crying a bit as well. They both dropped their knitting and Loupe closed her eyes as the queen leaned over the arm of her rocking chair to give her a hug. She felt so foolish for being so terribly sappy, but she couldn’t help it. Marrying a prince was a fairy tale come true, but being part of a real, loving family…that was heaven.
“Loupe, you are such a precious girl,” the queen whispered. “I’m so very proud to have you for a daughter.”
For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire in the hearth. Loupe clung to her mother, relishing the warmth of the embrace and the strength that always seemed to seep into her when the queen held her like this. Never in her life had she known a woman so loving, so completely accepting. Her wolf rolled over inside her and Loupe hiccupped at the waves of contentment emanating from the beast.
“Why are you crying?”
Both Loupe and the queen pulled away, turning at the sound of Etienne’s voice. He stood in the doorway, his forehead furrowed in concern. In a flash he was at Loupe’s side, kneeling down on the thick gold carpet and taking her hand in his.
“Are you unhappy?” he demanded, his voice gentle despite the hint of panic.
Shaking her head, Loupe stroked his face with the back of her fingers. “No, my love. Quite the contrary, I’m so happy I could burst.”
Etienne held her hand against his cheek. For a moment Loupe basked in the love and affection reflected in her husband’s gaze, wondering for the millionth time how she’d gotten so lucky. Then his soft smile began to wilt. Loupe frowned.
“Etienne, what is it?”
The lines around his eyes tightened and Loupe’s stomach dropped. “What’s happened, husband?”
“We have a visitor. She’s demanding to see you.”
Unease rippled over Loupe’s nerves as she stood. She’d only been a princess for a few months. Though she helped in whatever way she could, her contributions to the royal family thus far had mainly consisted of patrolling with Etienne, roaming about the kingdom as a wolf after the sun went down. And her stepfamily had vanished, abandoned the house and most of their belongings. In six months, the only information the royal guards had been able to find was one villager who said Madame Tessier had mentioned a voyage. No doubt the evil woman had rejoined her barbaric brothers, floating around the seven seas. Surely they wouldn’t return now? Not when Loupe had finally convinced Etienne to just forget about them. Not now that he had finally turned his attention back to their kingdom.
Still, Loupe couldn’t think of anyone who would be calling on her. This late. On the night of the full moon. Could it be…“Who?”
“Your stepsister. Danette.”
Without meaning to, Loupe turned her head and stared out the window. The evening sky was awash in deep oranges that bled to burgundy before darkening to plum. A wicked twist of pleasure curled through Loupe at the sight of the glowing silver orb in the sky. It was the night of the full moon.
“She’s probably here to ask for help,” Etienne said, his voice leaving no doubt as to his opinion on the matter.
“I’m sure. But why now? She’s had six moons to come to me. Why is she coming to me only now?”
“Perhaps her mother got tired of having to chain her daughter up every month?” He crossed his arms. “If she even chains her up. Perhaps she takes Danette into battle with her and releases her in wolf form. It sounds like Madame Tessier’s style to revel in that sort of blood and chaos.”
“No,” Loupe argued. “My stepmother reveres violence, yes, but only controlled violence. Danette would have no control over herself in wolf form and my stepmother has no way of teaching her that control.” Loupe’s stomach rolled. “Unless she tried to train her like she would train a beast. If she tried to beat her into submission.” She shoved the thoughts away, but it was too late. The images were there and it was only too easy for her to picture her stepmother abusing her own daughter in an attempt to get the girl to focus that bestial aggression on Madame Tessier’s enemies.
Etienne scowled. “You’re going to help her aren’t you?”
Loupe twirled the end of her braid around her finger, her mind spinning. The past few months had taught her a great deal about herself. She’d learned what a real family should be like, what she had a right to expect as far as respect and dignity. It pained her now to think of what a coward she’d been, how broken and completely spineless. In a strange way, she almost understood her stepfamily better now. Even though they’d been the ones to break her, starting from the tender age of six and going well into her early twenties, it must have been hard for the warrior women to see anything they could empathize with in the sniveling creature she’d been.
Danette deserved to suffer. Loupe knew it, believed it. Still, she couldn’t push from her mind the memories of her own early months of the change. All too well she knew the terror and loss of control Danette was going through. Whatever had once been between them, Loupe owed it to her to listen. One
loup garou
to another.
“Is she still human?” Loupe asked finally.
Etienne nodded. “Yes, but she won’t be for long. I told her to wait on the balcony. Only the head of the royal guard is with her.”
“Very well.” Loupe turned and offered her mother a smile. “Please excuse me, Mother. I’ll return as soon as I settle some unfinished business.”
The queen straightened her spine. “You have grown into such a strong woman, my daughter,” she said proudly. She smiled. “Bite her again if you have to.”
Etienne snorted in amusement and Loupe winked at the queen. Here, in the castle, surrounded by her family, Loupe was confident that she could face anything. What did it matter if she helped her stepsister? The time when Danette could terrorize her was over. Together, she and Etienne went to the balcony where Danette awaited an audience.
The head of the royal guard nodded at Etienne and Loupe. “She’s still human, Your Highness.”
“Thank you.” Etienne paused before drawing the curtain aside. “You are sure?”
Loupe stepped forward and pulled the curtain back herself, baring the balcony to her gaze. The scent of her stepsister trailed past Loupe’s nose, a combination of blood, sweat, and the stink of desperation. She held herself as straight as she could, broadcasting strength and preparing herself to speak to the woman who’d nearly killed her.
Danette cowered on the stone. She didn’t raise her eyes, but rather pressed herself harder to the ground. Seeing her there, groveling in a dirty cotton dress that she wouldn’t have been caught dead in before, should have invoked some sort of sympathy in Loupe. It didn’t.
“Help me,” Danette choked, a sob racking her body. “I’m a monster. I can’t control it, please help me. I’m so frightened.”
“Are you looking for a place to be chained up?” Etienne offered in a tone cold enough to freeze water. “We have an extensive dungeon that I’d be more than happy to confine you to.”
Danette moaned, a loud, long, and piteous sound. “Loupe, you know what this is like! Please! You have to do something.”
Loupe tilted her head, feigning confusion. “You’re telling me you want me to shoot your toe off with an arrow?” She glanced at Etienne. “I do believe that’s the ‘help’ they offered me when I was in this position?”
Etienne nodded. “Indeed, I was there.”
Loupe could have sworn Danette’s shoulders tightened and her hands clenched into fists. The momentary tension was gone a second later and she turned her face up to fix Loupe with a near-hysterical plea.
A tiny voice in Loupe’s head told her she should show some kindness, some sympathy. Unfortunately, Danette had not just threatened Loupe—she’d threatened Etienne. Loupe may have been willing to forgive one, but for the other… Loupe clenched her hands into fists. Danette could suffer.
The last of the sun’s rays fled the night sky. A howl spilled from Danette’s lips, the sound long and full of pain, and a shudder ran the length of her body. Loupe stepped back, grasping Etienne’s arm as she nodded for the guard to draw the curtain closed. Together she and her husband began disrobing in preparation to shift.
“We’ll herd her into the forest and keep her there until she returns to human form,” Loupe said calmly.
“And after that?”
Loupe sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
Etienne grunted, but let the subject drop. In front of them, Danette completed her change with a few last bone-crunching pops and a screeching whine. Loupe looked up at the moon and called to the wolf inside her.