Prince of Wolves - Tasha Black Page 0,30

drop him at a fae orphanage, as she would have done herself, likely hoping the whole thing would give him something much worse to feel guilty about than what had happened with Willow. It should have been a lesson to him about following orders.

But he had surprised her, and himself, by taking responsibility for the boy. And so the Winter Queen had punished them both with her curse. He’d been caring for the boy ever since, and he wouldn’t trade that time for anything. But he was beginning to worry about the long-term effects on the boy who couldn’t grow up.

“We’ll figure it out, Ronan,” Varik promised him, for about the thousandth time in twenty-five years.

Dark clouds gathered overhead. A storm was brewing. Varik was about to set off into the woods to find the other Fae, when he heard a screech and spotted something whistling toward him through the overcast sky.

A snowy owl with brilliant amber eyes rocketed toward him as if it planned to strike. His first thought was of another Winter Court attack. Varik stepped in front of the pup and braced himself for the hit.

But the owl pulled back at the last second, landing on Varik’s left arm as lightly as if he had stepped onto it from a nearby tree branch.

Now that it was close, Varik recognized the animal.

Pompadour, the Winter Queen’s messenger owl.

The owl blinked at Varik haughtily, and then extended one claw. A decorative golden tube had been attached with a leather thong. Varik gingerly slid the message out of the tube and closed the end again.

He expected the creature to wait while he read it so that he could reply. But the bird launched himself from Varik’s forearm, leaving nothing but a shiver of wings and a vicious set of claw marks on Varik’s arm to show he had been there at all.

Ronan howled and yapped at the sky as the bird disappeared.

“You tell him, Ronan,” Varik chuckled.

He opened the message. It smelled like snowdrop wine, a bitter brew he always associated with the queen.

Your mission has changed.

We don’t want her captured.

We want her eliminated.

There was no signature, but the Winter Queen didn’t need one. The note could have come from no one else.

Once upon a time, Varik had felt a grudging respect for his queen’s ice-cold resolve. But over the years, he had learned to see her heartless approach for what it was - simple cruelty.

And this was so far beyond the pale.

Whether she had given birth to her or not, the queen was demanding her own daughter be killed.

Varik felt his blood buzz in his veins.

The queen had already proven she didn’t trust him. She would send someone else.

Or something.

Ashe was in danger.

The desire to shift to his wolf form nearly overwhelmed him. He had to get to Ashe to protect her. He had to get back to Faerie to stop the queen. He had to get up the mountain to find the guardian Fae of this realm.

Breathe. Think.

He had the pup, so he could not shift right now.

And his first priority was clear.

Varik didn’t need his enchanted compass - he knew exactly where she was headed. He scooped up the pup and took off in the direction of the Tarker’s Hollow public library, praying he was not too late.

The storm was almost upon them.

18

Ashe

Ashe glanced out the big front window as lightning flashed and then plunged the room into relative darkness again.

“Spooky, right?” Delilah said with a half-smile as she placed another book on their cart.

It was a little spooky, but nothing Ashe couldn’t handle.

She pulled out a book with a drawing of a girl and a wolf on the cover and turned it over to see what it was about. The overcast sky was providing just enough light to make out the print, if she squinted enough.

A thumping sound in the stacks behind them startled her and Ashe nearly dropped the book.

“What was that?” she asked, placing it into one of the backpacks.

Delilah shrugged, eyes wide.

Ashe put down the backpack, and crept over to investigate with Delilah by her side.

They had just reached the non-fiction section when Delilah laughed.

“It’s only Mrs. Hawkins,” she said.

“Who?” Ashe asked.

“The library cat,” Delilah explained. “See. She must have jumped down from the top shelf.”

Sure enough a big tabby cat sat cleaning her paws at the center of the next row of books.

Ashe let out her breath and laughed a little, too.

As she turned back to their cart of books, lighting flashed again