The Wolf Prince - By Karen Whiddon Page 0,77

glance showed everyone, from the soldiers to Eric and Chad, had the exact same look.

A moment later, he saw why. A tall man, hair as black as the night sky, strode out of the mouth of the castle. Dressed all in black, the only spot of color was the blood red lining of his long cloak.

At the sight of him, Ruben’s wolf growled. Their soldier escort immediately dropped to their knees. Only Willow, Ruben, Chad and Tatiana remained standing.

Ruben braced himself for a fight. A quick glance at Chad showed the Bright man had also adopted battle stance.

Willow stood frozen, in obvious shock. Her sister however, was not so bold. After one quick look at the dark man, Tatiana dropped to the ground in a dead faint.

Though brave Willow trembled violently, she held her ground. As the Shadow king approached, she held her head high, like a queen about to receive a supplicant.

Ruben admired her courage even as he feared for her safety. He tried to go to her, shocked when he found himself unable to move. When he glanced over at Chad and Eric, he noticed they both struggled futilely beside him. Whatever magical spell had gripped him had touched them, as well.

He did not care. He would not give in. This was Willow, and he would not abandon her when she needed him most. With a huge shudder, he pushed through, feeling the very atmosphere tear as he broke free.

Before the dark king reached her, Ruben stepped in front, placing himself squarely between Willow and danger.

To his shock and disbelief, Willow pushed her way around him, so that she once again stood, alone and unprotected, to wait for their enemy’s approach.

“He is not our enemy,” Willow said, again as though she’d read his mind. Her beautiful dark eyes glinted—with unshed tears?

Ruben looked more closely at the Shadow king. Something about him seemed familiar, but it wasn’t until he compared his features with Willow’s that he realized what he saw. Similarity. Willow had the same chin, the same skin tone and the same almond-shaped eyes.

Howling hounds. Was this man Willow’s birth father? He hadn’t expected it to be this soon or this easy. Stepping back, he decided to wait and see.

* * *

Willow stared at the man who had sent the hawk to find her and who, also according to the hawk, had sired her. She waited for a jolt of recognition. But when she met the tall man’s caramel-colored eyes, so like her own, she felt...nothing. No immediate sense of kinship, no feeling that fate had somehow worked a miracle by bringing them together. Not even the lurking sense of completeness that she’d half hoped would finally click into place.

The king glanced once at the others, then his cryptic gaze settled finally on her.

“Welcome to NorthWard,” the tall man said, his aristocratic features showing no hint that he knew who she was. “It’s been many long years since a Bright has graced our shores.”

Shores? For the first time she realized they must be near an ocean. As she was about to speak, Eric and Tatiana snapped out of their trance. They jostled each other while rushing forward, vying to claim recognition as the head of their respective families.

They both began speaking at once, their words tumbling over each other in a jumble. The dark king waited one heartbeat, two, then raised his hand and silenced them as effectively as if they’d been gagged.

“Someone will show you to your rooms,” he told the others. Once again he looked at Willow and this time, he held out his arm for her to take. “Walk with me,” he said.

Hesitating briefly, she placed her hand on his arm and went with him.

As they walked, he talked. He spoke of nothing of consequence; rather he described his gardens to her in such lush and lavish detail she could almost smell the blooms. She got a sense he was testing her, sounding her out as though a short conversation would give him an insight into her soul.

She played along, nodding and smiling politely, though she volunteered nothing about herself. They strolled down long, empty hallways, eerily similar to those in her home except for the stark lack of color. After his garden, he spoke of pets and land and horses. Finally, he got around to telling her about his family.

He and his queen had three children, two boys and a girl. The eldest and heir had recently married and his wife was expecting a

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