Prince of Wolves - Tasha Black Page 0,26
to sing as they got closer. It took him a precious second too long to realize the song for what it was.
An attack.
Before he could react, Velvet black darkness emerged from between the palms of one of the men and swirled through the air toward Varik.
His hackles rose as he snapped at the roiling cloud of midnight, but his teeth went through it as it enveloped him.
The woman’s singing grew louder, but Varik couldn’t focus on the words with this oppressive darkness overwhelming him.
He glanced down at Ronan, somehow still asleep and pale in the blue predawn light. The spell paid him no attention.
They intended to separate him from the little one.
He roared and fought against the cloud, trying to escape it long enough to attack the man who had created it.
But somehow, he was unable to move.
Midnight was not especially vicious magic, and Varik was strong. He should have been able to shrug off its effects.
But this was strong, far too strong.
He braced himself, and tried again.
But it was like nothing he’d ever encountered before. Fae were not known for their teamwork, but his three attackers were working together somehow. The woman’s song aided the shadowy attack, and the third man lent a silent harmony that felt benevolent even as it bound Varik’s own magic.
It was hopeless.
Desperate, Varik fought anyway. He would not surrender Ronan willingly. He would not let these three take Ashe away without a fight.
If he summoned all his reserves, he might have enough energy for one vicious counter attack. Of course, it might kill him in the process. But at least it would protect his loved ones.
He wondered if Ashe and Ronan would be happy together as the magic swelled inside him, ready for release.
He thought they would be.
“Stop,” the third man yelled out suddenly.
His voice was strangely familiar.
The woman broke off her song and the other man allowed the clouds of midnight to lift. Varik let his own building magic fade back into himself.
“I know him,” the third man said, striding over. “We were not wrong to suspect him of kidnapping. I’ve hired him to complete…unsavory tasks in the past.”
He stepped closer and the light from the street lamp illuminated his profile.
Cullen Ward, the King of Pain.
He had been trapped in the mortal world so long it had driven him half-mad. His cruelty was legendary. The tasks he had hired Varik for were more than unsavory. Varik had turned him down once or twice. And that was saying something.
He hoped his past working relationship with the mad king would pay off now.
“Show yourself, Varik,” Cullen demanded.
Varik glanced between the other two, but they flanked Ward, ready to act immediately if Varik didn’t comply.
At least he would have a chance to explain himself.
Varik lowered his head and slid upward into his fae form.
Below him, the sleeping babe transformed into a wolf cub as his eyelids fluttered open. Varik scooped him up, holding him close to his chest, and the pup snuggled in contentedly.
“What are you doing here?” Cullen asked. “I heard you were working for the Winter Court these days.”
“I’m here to retrieve their missing princess,” Varik agreed.
“And the, uh, child?” the woman asked in a bell-like voice.
“He is mine,” Varik said. It was the truth, though he hadn’t fathered the child in the usual way.
“We protect this town and the woods beyond,” the man who wasn’t Cullen Ward said. “We will allow no harm to come to the citizens of Rosethorn Valley, neither human nor Fae.”
It took a long moment for Varik to place him.
Killian. The King of Midnight. That tracked. What was he doing out of his midnight prison? He was sure there was quite a story behind that. Probably not one they would be willing to share with the likes of him. Fugitives usually had a healthy mistrust of bounty hunters.
“There are fae citizens of Rosethorn Valley?” Varik asked instead.
The woman visibly stiffened.
“You’re not sticking around here long enough for it to matter, are you?” Cullen asked.
Something about the man had changed since the last time they’d crossed paths. That desperate edge was gone from his voice. And since when did the King of Pain concern himself with the well-being of mortals - or anyone who wasn’t him, for that matter?
“You have nothing to worry about from me,” Varik said, pushing the thoughts aside to worry about what truly mattered here. “I have no interest in this town, or anyone in it, but Ashe of the Winter Court. I’ll be gone tomorrow