by Riley Storm
“How old are you, Link?” he asked.
“Twenty.”
“And why do you want to be on the Council?” he asked, shooting a hard glare at Miriam. “That is why she forced you to come here, isn’t it?”
“Um.”
“Don’t lie to your King,” Logan growled, still staring at Miriam. “She told you that she would get you onto the Council, didn’t she?” He tightened his grip on the boy’s chin ever so slightly.
“Yes sir,” Link said, shoulders slumping farther forward.
“Do you want to be on the Council?” Logan asked.
“Maybe one day,” Link admitted. “If I can prove I have what it takes.”
Logan smiled, patted him on the shoulder. “Stick around. We’ll find out a discipline for you, and then you will pursue it, and we shall see if you have what it takes.”
“Yes sir,” Link said as Logan dropped his chin and walked past him to glower down at Miriam.
“My King?” she asked, not shrinking away.
“I am done with you wasting my time with your games,” he snarled. “Do I make myself clear? The next time you come before me and the Council, it had better be for a real issue, not some attempt for you to increase your power base.”
“My King,” Miriam tried, licking her lips swiftly. “I assure you that I—”
“I asked you a question,” he said, his voice deep enough to vibrate the air around him. “This House is still hurting from the games the previous person to sit upon that throne inflicted upon it. We have lost brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers. Cousins, uncles, nieces and aunts. Lovers, friends and acquaintances. We have lost, Miriam. So much loss. All because one man desired more power. I may sit upon the throne reluctantly, but I will not sit around and let you go right back to the same games he played.”
Miriam’s eyes were dilated now, but to her credit, she still didn’t back down. “I assure you, Logan, I would—”
“You are lying!” he roared, sending her scurrying back several steps. “And everyone in here knows it. You wish for nothing more than to play politics. To gather power.” He spat the word, hating it. “It is these vain attempts to increase your own importance which make you so unsuited for the throne or anything to do with it.”
Miriam was angry now, her eyes narrowing to slits, and he could see her preparing an outburst. But Logan was finished with her. He wasn’t about to let her recover. He was the King, and she would respect it.
“If you cannot accept this, and if you cannot work for the betterment of House Canis as a whole, and not just yourself, then I will have no choice but to send you away.”
“Go ahead,” she hissed in a quiet tone. “I came back from Australia stronger than before.”
Logan grinned. “I have no intentions of sending you anywhere near as nice. I hear Rome is beautiful this time of year.”
Miriam went white. “There hasn’t been an outpost there in centuries. Everyone we send dies. You know that.”
His smile went cold. He did know that, even if, like everyone else, he had no idea why that was. “I know. Now do you wish to keep playing games and wasting the time of the Council and your King? Time we could be spending strengthening our House after people like you and the Tyrant King tore it apart?”
“I’m too powerful to ignore completely,” Miriam whispered.
“It doesn’t matter,” Logan said, returning to a conversational voice as he realized it truly didn’t. “I am the King. You cannot remove me from power, despite your threats. I don’t even need your support to officially be claimed King. So, go ahead, do your worst. If I get one whiff that you are working against me, one tiny little scrap of a clue, and you’ll be living in Vatican City before you can figure out what happened.” He leaned in. “Please try. Please. Give me that excuse.”
Miriam just stared at him but she finally nodded her head. “I understand.”
“Good,” he said. “It’s a shame you’re such a bitch. If you weren’t more interested in helping yourself than in others, there would be a spot up there for you.”
He turned and ascended the stairs again, not waiting for a response. He didn’t need one, nor did he expect one. It was a carrot he’d dangled in front of her. A test. It was unlikely she’d ever achieve such a turnaround in her persona, but she was skilled, he couldn’t deny that. If she could ever be trusted, he could use her.
Unfortunately, I’d rather trust a dragon.
Miriam gestured at her followers with her chin and they all began filing out. All of them, that was, except for Link.
“You’re staying,” Logan observed.
“You told me to, my King,” Link said, looking at the ground.
“Link, look up. You’re allowed to look at us. We’re not gods or anything. Shit, I was once a kid like yourself,” Logan added lightly.
To his right, Lucien snorted. “You were never as classy as this newcomer. Why, I remember that one time, we went into Plymouth Falls for your birthday and—”
“That’s enough,” Logan growled, but he was smiling.
Down below, Link was looking at them both wide-eyed, clearly unsure how to react.
“What Lucien is getting at,” Logan explained. “Is that we’re just normal shifters, like you, who have been through some stuff. Some tough stuff, and we’re trying to pass the knowledge and expertise we’ve gained on to the rest of the House. You can talk to us, if you need to.”
“Of course,” Link said.
Logan smiled. His response was still quick and extremely meek, but he hadn’t looked down again.
“What do you want to do, Link? If you had the complete freedom to choose.”
This, he realized, this was the part Heather was talking about, using his actions to show why he could be a good King. Rule confidently but also compassionately. Follow that advice, and he would succeed.
I hope.
Thanking her for her advice and for everything else, he returned his attention to the young shifter in front of him.
“I would like to learn what it takes to become the Hunter,” Link said after a moment. “I…Miriam wasn’t lying. I do seem to understand people, emotions, relationships, better than my friends, at least. Maybe it’s nothing compared to adults, but I don’t know. I…I wonder if I could be good at that. It would certainly feel nice to help people find their mates.”
Logan was nodding. “We can do that, Link. I will make no guarantees that you will be Hunter, of course. But all the training, guidance and advice we have, we will give you.” He smiled. “Let’s see what we can make out of you.”
Link’s shoulders straightened for the first time. “Are you serious?” he blurted, then looked embarrassed. “I mean, my King, I would be honored.”
“You’re allowed to be excited, Link,” he chuckled. “Lucien here will oversee your training. Make us all proud.”
“I will,” Link said, looking like a true shifter for the first time since he’d entered the Throne Room, back straight, head held high. “I will, my King.”
Logan nodded.
The advice he’d been given had worked. Heather, it seemed, really knew her shit.
Is that any surprise though? She’s always been smart and capable. Why are you just now realizing that?
Logan sat upright. It was true. Heather had always been able to see things he hadn’t. But Logan, in all his infinite wisdom, had never truly accepted that.
He groaned audibly. “I never listened. I never listened, but I should have.”
Lucien and the others looked at him. “What are you talking about?”
Getting to his feet, Logan looked at the others briefly. “I need to go. I…I have a lot of thinking to do.”
Without saying anything more, he jogged down the stairs, clapping a startled Link on the shoulder before leaving the Throne Room behind, headed straight for his personal quarters and some long reflection and inner thinking.
Thinking, and probably one hell of a big apology to make.
30
&n
bsp; Dragging a hand along the stone walls of the lower hallways of Moonshadow Manor, Heather wondered just how much trouble she would be in for skipping the Council meeting.
It’s a complete waste of everyone’s time. I’m not going to support that.
She idly wondered what would happen if Logan actually listened to her and slapped her mother down with a firm hand, showing he wasn’t about to let her manipulate him or waste his time anymore. It was what she needed, of course. Miriam only responded to power stronger than her own.
Right now, the only person who could do that, was the King. If that was who Logan chose to become.
Of course, if he does that, if he becomes the King, then I will have lost him forever.
That was ridiculous. She’d already lost him forever, and it had been her own choice. She’d walked out of his office and out of his life willingly. It was time she stopped thinking of “them”. Even if she was pregnant, she was going to have to pass it off as Leonen’s. Which meant…
“Ugh,” she said, unable to remain silent even at the thought of sleeping with him. It wasn’t that he was unattractive. Like all shifters, he was ripped. Physically, she couldn’t really fault him.
But she was completely and thoroughly repulsed by everything except his muscles. Even his face, while she was sure it was handsome to many, didn’t do anything for her. It was just…a face. Neutral. Nothing. It didn’t speak to her, didn’t ignite her blood and make her heart race.
Not like Logan’s.
But she couldn’t be with Logan. It wasn’t possible. Heather needed the protection of her family, and so she had to do what was necessary to keep it.
Pop!
She looked around wildly, dropping into a crouch as the air in front of her parted, and then a second later, a figure came through.
“Who are you?” Heather snarled, lunging forward, hand going for the throat.
“Ack!” the figure yelped, and red sparks shot from the fingers on one hand, impacting Heather’s arm.
Suddenly numb, the limb dropped to her side. The abrupt change threw Heather off balance and she stumbled past the newcomer.
“What is your problem?” the person snapped, standing upright, revealing herself at last.
Herself.
Heather frowned as pieces dropped into place in her mind. “Jennifer?”
“Of course, me,” the Magi of House Canis growled. “Who else would it be?”
“I don’t know. Why would it be you? Why couldn’t you come find me the normal way? Maybe don’t pop out of thin air in front of me? Sheesh.”
Jennifer brushed at the mage robe she wore at all times, shaking her head. “I tried finding you the old-fashioned way. Nobody knew where you were. That makes it somewhat difficult to track you down. But I had to see you.”
Heather raised her eyebrows. “Me. You had to see me? Listen, I don’t have anything against you, but we’ve never really talked or interacted. What possible reason could you have for searching me out?”
“The Loup-Garou virus,” Jennifer said excitedly, reaching for her. “Come on. Come on!” she said, taking Heather by the wrist, dragging her toward the portal.
“Whoa. Hold on. Slow down, cowgirl,” Heather snapped, easily breaking the woman’s grip.
“I can’t slow down. There’s no time,” Jennifer said, her agitation and excitement growing exponentially now she was no longer under attack. “Come on!” She reached out again, and this time, magic laced around Heather’s wrist.
The Magi tugged on her, and a surprisingly powerful pull had Heather stumbling along after her—right through the portal.
“Urggh,” she moaned, her stomach suddenly topsy-turvy from taking the instantaneous portal from one location to another. “I don’t like that.”
“First portal travel?”
“Yes,” she moaned, holding her free hand to her stomach. “What is wrong with you? Why can’t you relax!”
“Relax?” Jennifer all but shouted. “How am I supposed to relax when I can help you!”
“Help me?” Heather asked, confused, standing up as the brief nausea passed. “You can end my arranged mating to Leonen? How?”
Jennifer froze, mouth open ready to start speaking.
“That’s not what you meant, is it?” Heather asked awkwardly.
“Um, no,” the Magi replied, biting her lip nervously.
Heather fell silent. It was the first time she’d said that out loud to anyone. Voicing her desire not to be mated. To be free. Because if she was free, she could mate whoever she chose. Whoever she wanted.
And deep down, she knew who that was. Even if she couldn’t admit it to anyone. Not even herself.
“What can you help me with then?” she made herself say, desperate to alleviate some of the tension in the room.
“I told you, the Loup-Garou virus,” Jennifer said, slowly regaining some of her enthusiasm.
“What about it?”
“I figured out a way to stop it from manifesting!”
Heather’s jaw dropped open in a perfect mimicry of the Magi’s earlier face.
“I know, right?” Jennifer exclaimed. “It’s crazy.”
“WHAT?!” Heather shouted. “You found a cure?!”
The mage shook her head. “Not a cure. Not really. It doesn’t remove the virus. I…that might be beyond me. But I devised a spell that will prevent it from manifesting.”
“How?” Heather wanted to know, knees suddenly weak with shock.
Freedom from the virus? From ever turning into a Loup-Garou?
For as long as she’d been aware, it had been drilled into her that she was a potential threat. That one day, without warning, the virus could activate and turn her into a murderous beast that would kill everything in its path as it was slowly consumed by hatred, hunger, and horniness.
Decades of her life, she’d lived with that weight on her shoulders and an axe at her neck. Plenty of shifters wanted her killed pre-emptively, just in case. It wasn’t worth the risk, they said.
Now she was being told it was gone? That not only would she not have to wait over a year, but no other female shifters would have to suffer what she had?
“Is it…is it universal?” she asked quietly. “Or just me?”
“I’ll have to tailor it to each person before I cast it,” Jennifer said, crouching down with her as Heather’s legs finally gave out, requiring her to sit on the ground in the Magi’s lab. “But I should be able to cast it on anyone, yes.”
“I don’t understand,” Heather said. “How is it you managed to do this, and nobody else has been capable of it? All the Magi’s before you…”
“My guess is two reasons,” Jennifer said gently. “One, I’m a human woman, and when I heard about your condition at the party, I was terrified. The idea of never being able to have kids until you were sure it had passed, and the risk you might birth one with the active virus? The way everyone treated like you at the party because of it was just terrible.”
“Thanks for the memories,” she muttered, then waved off Jennifer’s apologetic look. “Sorry, I’m just in shock. I think.”
“I guess I could have gone about this differently, couldn’t I?” Jennifer said.
“Maybe. But you’re telling me you can make it so I don’t ever have to worry about it activating? And what was the second reason you figured this out?”
“My magic is about creation,” Jennifer explained. “Most magi are about destruction. Blowing things up. I like to create things. It’s a very different way of thinking about magic and what it can be used for. I think those two things combined to give me a very different way of looking at it.”
“Right. Right.” Heather was still trying to absorb the information. “How?”
“I used some, um, Loup-Garou specimens the last Magi had.” Jennifer shuddered. “He had all sorts of things hidden away that I doubt anyone knew about. Anyway, I was able to put the virus into a dormant state. Here, you can see for yourself.”
Heath
er got to her feet, then snorted when she looked at what Jennifer was pointing toward. “A mage with a microscope. Now I’ve seen everything.”
“It’s a bit unusual, I’ll grant you that, but I had to be sure.”
Taking a look at it, Heather listened to the mage describe what she was seeing, the effects of the spell, and how it would work.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said at last.
“Say you’ll let me cast it on you!” Jennifer exclaimed immediately, clasping her hands together. “Let me help you…With this issue at least.”
“Yeah. Of course. Um, go ahead. What do I need to do?”
Jennifer grinned. “Just stand still. This might feel weird, but it shouldn’t hurt.”
“Weird how?”
“I have no idea, I’ve never cast it on someone before,” Jennifer admitted with a shrug. “Here we go!”
Green-gold energy blossomed around her wrists. It took Heather a moment to comprehend the fact she was a test dummy. Her brain immediately rebelled and she tried to tell the Mage to stop, but it was too late.
A wavy line of energy flicked out and across the few feet separating them, sinking deep into Heather’s stomach. At first, she felt nothing.
Then a wave of horrific stomach pain ripped through her body, followed by the immediate urge to vomit.
She fell to the ground, expelling the contents of her stomach on the lab floor amidst a cry of pain that had her wanting to do nothing but curl up in a fetal position.
All at once it was gone.
“Are you okay?” Jennifer shrieked, sliding to a halt beside her, robe somehow avoiding the puddle on the floor.
“Yeah. I…I feel fine. I didn’t a moment ago, but I quite literally feel normal as can be. I don’t even feel like I just puked, nasty as that is.”
“Okay. Well, there you go.”
“That’s it?” Heather asked. “I’m cured?”
“Well, not cured,” Jennifer corrected. “But stabilized. No more worries, theoretically.”
Heather put her hands on her hips, scowling. “Theoretically?”
“I need to do a check back in a week. Make sure the virus and the spell are coexisting. I’ll need to draw some blood. Take a look at it. Nothing major.”