The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Come, my lady,” she said, taking her by the hand. “I am very sorry you were left alone. We did not mean to neglect you. Please come inside and get to know my father and brothers. I am sure they will like you very much.”

  But Asmara didn’t seem put out in the least. In fact, she wasn’t at all. She’d stood by and watched Blayth become acquainted with the father he’d been told had abandoned him, and brothers who clearly adored him. She’d watched it all, so very happy for Blayth, thrilled beyond words that he’d found his family again. The quest they’d set out to accomplish had ended rather quickly, but it was the best possible ending imaginable.

  Blayth found what he’d been looking for.

  “I do not feel neglected,” she said, pausing as the men mounted the stairs. She watched Blayth as he laughed with Troy. “In fact, my heart is full as I watch my husband with his brothers and his father. He set out on this journey to find answers to his past, and this is greater than he could have hoped for.”

  Because Asmara came to a halt, Penelope did, too. She also watched as Blayth entered the keep, surrounded by his brothers, as William and Bhrodi brought up the rear. All of the men filtering into the great hall to become better acquainted, and to begin making new memories for a man who had none at all.

  They had a whole lifetime ahead of them to do it.

  “I feel as if I am living a dream,” Penelope said. “We had reconciled ourselves to James’ death, and for him to return makes this feel so very surreal. But if it is a dream, I do not want to wake up from it.”

  Asmara looked at her. “Nor I,” she said. “I have lived all my life in Wales, but I did not start living until Blayth came into my life. Whether he remains Blayth, or becomes James again, does not matter to me. He is the man I love, and I shall go with him wherever he wishes to go, and I will call him whatever he wishes to be called. The mark of a man is not in his name, but in his character.”

  “And in his heart,” Penelope finished softly. When Asmara smiled at her, she smiled in return. “But you will tell me the story of Blayth the Strong, will you not? All I have heard is what de Lohr and Payton-Forrester have told me. I want to hear of his legend through your eyes. Will you share it with me?”

  Asmara thought back to the first time she’d ever seen Blayth the Strong. She’d tripped over him and fell in the mud and he’d thrown her in a trough. Then, she thought of him as they’d assaulted Llandarog Castle, how she’d scaled the walls and how he’d used brute strength to subdue an entire garrison. She remembered their time at Gwendraith and their very first kiss in that musty stable. The man who didn’t remember his past but who had an uncanny skill as a warrior was someone she’d loved from the start. In fact, she couldn’t remember when she hadn’t loved him. And as he wandered into the great hall of Lioncross with his family, her love for him only grew.

  Blayth the Strong was unwanted no longer.

  “I will be happy to tell you,” she said as they began to follow the men into the hall. “The first time I met him, he threw me into a horse trough.”

  Penelope looked at her with surprise. “Is that true?” she said. “The first time I met my husband, I challenged him to a fight.”

  Asmara grinned. “Did you win?”

  “Of course I did. I am a de Wolfe; I was born with a sword in my hand.”

  “As was I, practically.”

  When they reached the top of the stairs, Penelope put her arms around Asmara and hugged her tightly.

  “Then you are going to fit into this family perfectly,” she said.

  Asmara hoped so. As she entered the great hall, she saw Blayth sitting at the massive feasting table with his brothers, being served great cups of ale by the servants. He caught a glimpse of her and when their eyes met, she would never forget the look of joy on the man’s face.

  It was the joy of a man who was loved fully, and who loved fully. It was the joy of a story with a happy ending, and the joy of a legend whose dreams had actually come true.

  James de Wolfe had risen from the dead, and now he was home to stay.

  EPILOGUE

  Castle Questing

  One month later

  “You look very beautiful,” Blayth said. “I have the most beautiful wife in all the world.”

  Asmara cast him a look that could only be described as hateful. It was late on a mild autumn day as they rode with William, Scott, Troy, Patrick, and eight hundred de Wolfe soldiers on their return to Castle Questing. The comment had come from Blayth because his wife was dressed in a lovely frock, courtesy of Penelope, on the occasion of visiting Castle Questing and, consequently, meeting family and relatives for the first time.

  But it had been a hard fight.

  Penelope and Asmara were roughly the same size, with coloring that was also similar, so before departing Lioncross Abbey, Penelope had given Asmara three lovely gowns she’d brought with her so that Asmara would have something nice to wear. It had been a very sweet gesture, as Penelope and Asmara had become very close over the past month, but Asmara had never worn feminine clothing in her life and was very embarrassed to do so.

  She felt like a fool.

  But the appreciative expressions of her husband, and his brothers, had changed that attitude somewhat. Not much, but a little. Asmara was receiving attention she normally didn’t receive and it was flattering, although she didn’t want to admit it. Penelope had even shown Asmara how to fashion her hair so that it was both pretty and practical. No more long, silky strands of dark hair blowing in the wind. Now, it was braided and pinned to the nape of her neck. She kept scratching at her neck, at the iron pins that poked, while Blayth watched her with amusement.

  One too many amused looks and she punched him.

  But he’d laughed at her, taking it in stride. The de Wolfe brothers knew better than to comment to Asmara; they’d grown up with a sister who was also a warrior, and fine compliments would only bring them pain. Therefore, they let Blayth take the brunt of Asmara’s frustration with her new ladylike appearance. But the truth was that she looked quite lovely.

  Beneath a crisp blue sky, the returning de Wolfe party mounted the hill that led to Castle Questing, and Blayth and Asmara were once again faced with an enormous English castle that took up nearly the entire top of a hill. William had explained that Scotland wasn’t far off, and it was his job to police this portion of the border, but Asmara found it all quite fascinating. The landscape this far north was different from that of Wales, but just as beautiful, she thought. She had thoroughly enjoyed the trip and the opportunity to see parts of England. Although she missed her home, and her family, she could not have been happier, or more content, with Blayth.

  She knew her father would have approved.

  In truth, the past month for them had been life-changing for them both. Blayth had spent the time with his brothers and father at Lioncross, listening to night after night of tales from his past, as they all tried to stir memories long buried.

  William refused to believe that they were gone completely, so he’d spent his days with Blayth, speaking of events from his childhood and from the days when he’d fostered. Asmara listened as well, learning of her husband’s past. Sometimes, Blayth thought he might actually remember what he was being told, but other times, there was no recognition at all.

  But the fact remained that William, Scott, Troy, and Patrick never gave up. They were so thrilled to have their son and brother returned to them that it was a genuine joy speaking on things he no longer remembered. Even though he’d changed somewhat, and his memory was mostly gone, they all saw characteristics in the man that had never left him. He was still quiet, with a ready humor, and he still became quite emotional about certain things. That was the brother they remembered. And the love he felt for his family, even though he didn’t really remember much about them, was ready and prevalent.

  Love was something that couldn’t be forgotten.

  But those conversations about the past also brought up conversations about the
future, and it was quickly determined that Blayth really couldn’t return to Wales, nor did he want to. What he’d left there was an episode of his life and he genuinely wanted to return to the House of de Wolfe and resume his former life as best he was able, with Asmara by his side.

  It was then that William was forced to tell him that he had been married before, and he had two children as a result. Ronan had been six years of age and his daughter, Isabella, had been born when he’d been in Wales. The little girl was five years of age now and the only father she’d ever known was the man her mother had married two years after her father’s “passing”. Owen le Mon was from a fine family, a knight who had served at a neighboring castle, and he’d accepted Ronan and Isabella as if they were his own.

  Blayth had heard that his children and his first wife had resumed their happy life after his disappearance and he had no intention of disturbing that. But the fact remained that he had been married before, putting his marriage to Asmara in jeopardy. William and Blayth consulted with a priest local to Lioncross to discuss the issue, but after much discussion with the priest and a good deal of deliberation, the priest decided that James, for the most part, no longer existed and the man Blayth had taken his place. In the church’s view, that meant there was no marriage between Blayth and Rose.

  It wasn’t only Blayth who had been relieved to hear that, but Asmara.

  Suspecting she was pregnant, she didn’t particularly want her child to be born a bastard. And as they finally arrived in Questing’s enormous bailey, Asmara had the confidence in her marriage and in her husband enough to be secure in their love and in their future.

  And that was why they had come to Castle Questing.

  “Come down, cariad,” Blayth said as he dismounted his steed and quickly came around her horse to help her dismount. “Get down and stretch your legs. You must be exhausted.”

  Asmara slid into his arms, feeling his strength around her. She kissed his fuzzy face. “I am fine,” she said, looking around. “I am much more interested in this place. It is enormous.”

  Blayth held on to her as she stretched out her back. He, too, was looking around, feeling a twinge of recognition. It was another place he’d seen in his dreams, with big towers and sand-colored walls.

  “It is,” he agreed quietly. “I was born here, so I am told.”

  Asmara heard the tone in his voice and she turned to look at him. “Do you recognize it?”

  He nodded, faintly. “I think so,” he said. “I feel as if I do. It is a very strange feeling, as if I have been here before.”

  As they stood there, Patrick and Troy came to stand with them. On the trip north, they had left Scott at his home in the south of Cumbria, but Troy and Patrick’s homes were here in the north, with their father. They had continued onward, all the way to Questing.

  “Well?” Patrick said. “Do you recognize the place?”

  Blayth nodded. “I was telling Asmara that I feel as if I have been here before.”

  “You should,” Troy said. “You have spent a large portion of your life here. Of our siblings, no one lives here year-round any longer, but they are all nearby with the exception of Penelope and Scott. And Katheryn, your twin, lives at Berwick. I am sure you will see her shortly.”

  Blayth smiled faintly. “I should like to,” he said. But his attention moved back to the vast castle around them. “I am looking forward to getting reacquainted with everyone.”

  Patrick started to speak, but something over Blayth’s head caught his attention. He cleared his throat softly.

  “Mother is coming,” he said quietly.

  Everyone turned to see William walking towards them, his arm around the shoulders of a petite woman clad in a cloak against the cool autumn breeze. Her honey-blonde hair was pulled back into a bun at the back of her head, and she wore a loose wimple about her head and neck. She was older, but the expression on her face was intense and ageless. Her green eyes were riveted on Blayth as she came closer, and closer still.

  Troy and Patrick backed away, affording their mother some private space as she came face to face with the son she thought she’d lost. When Jordan came to within a foot or so of Blayth, William spoke.

  “Blayth,” he said softly, “this is your mother, Jordan.”

  Blayth stared at the woman. Unlike his father or brothers, where there had been only a small amount of recognition, the moment he looked into his mother’s eyes, he knew her. It was a very strong feeling he had, a connection he didn’t have with any of the other members of his family. The bond between mother and child was like nothing else and, in this case, it broke the boundaries of amnesia. His eyes grew moist when she reached out, offering him her hand. He took it quickly.

  “I have seen ye in my dreams for five long years,” she said in her heavy Scots accent. “I’ve talked tae ye in my dreams and told ye how much I loved ye. Have ye heard me?”

  Tears pooled in his eyes. “I think I have.”

  Jordan smiled. “When ye were a wee lad, I called ye Jamie,” she said. “Do ye remember?”

  He sniffled. “I do not. I am sorry.”

  Jordan gazed at him a moment, studying the new man her son had become, before lifting her hand to touch the damaged side of his head. Her fingers were gentle as she acquainted herself with the new side of him, tender yet probing, as only a mother could be.

  It was a deeply poignant moment and Blayth closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he felt his mother’s touch for the first time that he could remember. She touched that terrible side of his head without fear, without revulsion.

  Only love.

  “When ye were born, ye were a weak little lad,” she finally said. “We were a-feared ye would not live. I spent so much time with ye, rocking ye, holding ye, and telling ye what a great man ye would become someday. I’m not sure if I believed it, but I wanted ye tae know that I had faith in ye. I had faith that ye would fulfill yer destiny. I think… I think that even though yer destiny wasna as we’d planned, it is still a fine one. Yer father sent me a missive when he found ye at Lioncross, and he explained what became of ye. I wanted ye tae know that I’m very proud of ye, because ye’ve been a hero tae people who trusted ye, and that’s a grand destiny for any man.”

  Blayth bent over, kissing her hands as he held them. He was so choked up that he couldn’t even speak. Jordan touched the top of his head, the thick blond strands that she remembered so well. Perhaps he went by another name now, and perhaps he didn’t remember everything of his life as a de Wolfe, but to Jordan, he was still her little boy.

  He was still her Jamie.

  As Blayth bent over her, wrought with emotion, Jordan’s attention moved to the young woman next to him. Tall, dark-haired, she had a fine-featured face, and Jordan smiled at her.

  “Ye must be Asmara,” she said. “I am very happy tae meet ye.”

  Asmara smiled timidly. “Thank you, my lady,” she said. “I am happy to know you, too.”

  Blayth, realizing he’d been rude by not introducing his wife, stood up and wiped the tears from his face. Still holding Jordan’s hand, he put his arm around Asmara’s shoulders.

  “She is a great woman and I am undeserving of her, but she loves me anyway,” he said. “I know you two will become great friends.”

  Jordan squeezed her son’s hand before letting it go, moving to Asmara and reaching for the woman. She took Asmara’s hands, gazing into the face of the woman her husband’s missive had also told her about. It had been a very long missive that explained everything. Dragon Princess, William had said about James’ new wife. She was a great woman among the Welsh. But all Jordan saw was the woman her son clearly adored.

  “Of course we will,” she said. “Come inside with me. Ye must be weary.”

  Asmara was immediately at ease with Jordan’s sweet manner. She didn’t even hesitate as the woman pulled her along, towards the enormous keep of Castle Questing. She, too, felt instant comfort at Castle Questing and as Jordan pulled her aw
ay, Blayth moved to follow. William, however, stopped him.

  “Wait,” he said quietly. “There is someone else you must see.”

  Blayth looked at him curiously, but his father indicated a dark-haired woman and two small children who were standing several feet away. In fact, Jordan and Asmara walked right past them, close enough to touch them had they tried. As soon as dark-haired woman saw that William’s attention was on her, she moved forward with her children.

  “This is Rose,” William told Blayth quietly. “The children with her are yours.”

  Blayth found himself looking at a pretty woman, very pretty, and two very handsome children. The boy was older, having seen eleven summers, but the little girl was small and shy.

  Rose walked right up to him, her expression serious as she saw all of the damage to his head. It was her former husband, but he’d transformed into something else. She almost didn’t recognize him. She’d had weeks to prepare for this moment, but now that it was here, it wasn’t as gut-wrenching or emotional as she thought it would have been. There was a peace about it, in fact. James was here, but only in the literal sense. The man he was had died at Llandeilo; the man she saw before her was what came in his place.

  It was a strange realization, but not uncomfortable.

  When their eyes met, she forced a smile.

  “Greetings,” she said. “Do you remember me?”

  Blayth almost did, but he wasn’t sure. He had that feeling so often that it was frustrating. “I wish I did,” he said. “Greetings, Lady le Mon.”

  He was acknowledging her married name, the name that was no longer his. Rose, too, knew that her marriage to James was no longer valid, thanks to the same missive William had sent to his wife. It was a missive that had contained, and explained, a great many things, so Rose knew the situation for what it was. In truth, she felt relief and she felt joy, if only for William and Jordan’s sake. She wasn’t quite sure how James would fit into the life of her son now, for he was the only child who remembered him, but she had every faith that everything would happen as it should. She had her father’s philosophy on life, and considering she’d spent many an hour with Kieran speaking on this very subject, she’d come to the conclusion that James’ return wouldn’t disrupt her life.