With the last shred of willpower he had, Etienne tore his mouth from Loupe’s. He had to talk to her, had to know she wanted him, all of him. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—take her until she knew exactly what she was getting.
He sucked in huge lungfuls of air, fighting his beast so he could think. “Loupe,” he said hoarsely. “Loupe, I want you to stay.” He swallowed and tried to concentrate on making sense. Logic had abandoned him, his wolf too close to the surface to think past the overpowering primal urges seizing his body. “Come to my chambers with me.”
Loupe gasped, and the sound drew his attention to her mouth. Etienne tried to hold on to his control, but his wolf was growing more and more impatient. It did not want to talk.
“Etienne… Etienne, I can’t.”
Her words barely registered. Etienne buried his face in her neck, kissing down the smooth column of her throat. She smelled so good, so right. He had to have her. “You can’t what?” he asked, his brain barely following the conversation.
“I can’t…stay.”
Etienne fought to hold in the growl that wanted to trickle from his lips. He had to be gentle with her.
“Loupe, I know it seems like things are moving too fast,” he said carefully, his voice tight with the effort to speak. “I don’t expect you to want me the same way I—”
“No, Etienne, I do want you,” Loupe whispered. “Etienne…I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”
Etienne opened his mouth, prepared to argue with her. A scent drifted past his nose and he froze.
“Etienne? What’s wrong?”
He grabbed her arms, adrenaline burning like acid through his veins. The desire he’d been fighting against fell back in the face of a new realization. He pressed his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. Wolf.
“Etienne! What are you doing?”
“You smell of soap. You bathed before you came here.”
He pulled back in time to see Loupe blush. “What kind of a thing is that to say? Really, Etienne—”
“You also smell like wolf.”
The fear that lit up her eyes told him everything he needed to know. Etienne stared at her, too shocked to think straight. “You smell like wolf. You always smell like wolf. I thought it was just the pups. But you… Loupe, you are a werewolf, aren’t you? A loup garou?”
Her palms slammed into his chest, catching him by surprise. He grunted as he swayed back and she shrieked and jerked her arms free. Before he could gather his wits enough to react, she was clutching at her head.
“Loupe,” he gasped, panicking at the pain twisting her beautiful face. “Loupe, are you all right?”
Etienne had never actually witnessed a cursed werewolf changing. The only werewolves he’d ever known had been born werewolves, and they were taught from a young age what to expect from the change and how to handle it. First shifts were always done surrounded by family, in a safe place. None of that had prepared him for what he was witnessing now.
Loupe’s dress shimmered and wavered. Suddenly it disappeared, revealing her old plain cotton dress. Her hair fell out of the complicated twists and tumbled around her shoulders. Etienne’s eyebrows shot up as he realized she’d been glamoured. He didn’t have long to think about it.
The beast fought its way out of her. The long brown muzzle pushed out of her face in a stomach churning crunch of bones. Two sharp cracks echoed in the air as her legs bent backwards and she fell to the ground. Etienne fought not to cry out in empathy as he realized the level of Loupe’s terror and pain during her transformation. As a born werewolf, and a powerful alpha besides, Etienne could exert some control over the changes of other werewolves. He reached out to Loupe, desperate to see if he could ease her shift.
Stuck halfway through her change, Loupe’s eyes still rolled back. A high-pitched shriek escaped her convulsing vocal chords. The sound seized Etienne’s nerves and he jerked away from her. He turned back toward the red velvet curtain that shielded them from the ballroom. Even with the music still playing loudly, people were likely to have heard Loupe’s cry.
If anyone saw Loupe like this, there would be no saving her. There would be a coup if Etienne tried to save her, if his people thought he was protecting a loup garou over them. His wolf howled inside him, long and loud. A wave of heat roared through his blood and Etienne knew in that moment that he would do whatever it took to protect Loupe. No matter what.
Blocking Loupe with his own body as best he could, Etienne fought to steady himself. He needed to try and reverse her change. He didn’t even know if it was possible, but he had to try. Reaching out toward Loupe, he let his beast rise to just beneath his skin.
He was too late. The wolf finished its rebirth, exploding from Loupe’s body in a wash of chestnut brown fur. It turned to Etienne and for a split second he thought he saw recognition in its golden eyes. Then there was a muffled curse behind him and the wolf jerked its attention to the curtain. A second later, it turned and bounded down the stairs that led from the balcony to the palace grounds and vanished into the darkness.
“Etienne, what is going on out here?”
Etienne whipped around to find his father staring, wide-eyed, at the spot that had just moments ago held a terrified Loupe.
“Etienne, was that…?”
“Loupe.” He started to unfasten his clothes, preparing for his own shift. “I’ve got to go after her. I’m such a fool! I scared her, frightened her into the change. She has no control, she’s out there…”
“Your Highness, what’s going on?”
An old woman appeared from behind the curtain, dressed in a simple black frock. Her already well-worn face creased even more with her concern as she took in the scene. The king smoothly stepped in front of Etienne, blocking his half unbuttoned coat from view. Etienne quickly shuffled to stand on top of the garments Loupe had left on the ground, hoping the woman didn’t notice them. Then he got a closer look at their visitor.
“Oh, it’s you,” he murmured. He gestured at the old woman. “Father, this is Grandmother Hazel. She’s the witch responsible for my…blessing.”
“How did you get past my guards?” the king demanded.
“I’m a witch,” the witch said dryly. “People move when I tell them to.” The corners of her mouth fell as she returned her gaze to Etienne. “I heard a horrifying sound.” Her gaze dropped to the garments beneath Etienne’s feet. “What happened?”
Suddenly the music behind the curtain ceased, replaced with an increasingly loud, yet muffled, roar of a thousand voices speaking at once. Etienne turned with his father and the witch, all three of them rushing back beyond the curtain.
“What’s going on?” the witch demanded of the first person she could get her hands on.
The woman, dazzling in a sparkling pink ballgown, turned with eyes as big as saucers. “A wolf is charging at the guests trying to leave!”
Etienne’s heart leapt into his throat. He dashed like a madman through the crowd, fighting his way to the doors that would lead him out to where all the visiting carriages were being kept. As soon as he barreled through the door, the chaos overwhelmed him.
Women everywhere were screaming, clutching their escorts and pointing toward the woods. Up ahead, Etienne could see three figures detach themselves from the crowd. One of them raised something that looked like a crossbow.
“Don’t!” he bellowed.
Too late, he had to swallow a shout of dismay as an arrow flew from the weapon out into the darkness. His blood ran cold as his sensitive hearing picked up a whine. He swore he could see a shadow out on the lawn jerk and stumble to the side.
Loupe!
The shadow bolted. He tried to run back into the castle, intending to change to his wolf form so he could leave out the secret room and follow her, but the crowd converged on him.
“Prince Etienne, one of your wolves attacked us!”
“We could have been killed!”
“Thank goodness those women came prepared!”
The same phrases were repeated over and over. No matter how far Etienne battled his way into the crowd, he couldn’t find a single person who had actually been attacked. “Excuse me, excuse me, I must see what’s happened!”
Etienne reached the edge of the crowd just as the last of his patience ended. Bursting free of the throng, he ran across the yard as fast as his human legs could carry him. His nostrils flared as he followed the scent of blood to the spot where he’d seen the shadow. He found the source of the blood and a blinding rage took hold of him.
A toe.
Etienne swayed on his feet, his anger turning his vision red. They’d shot her. They’d shot Loupe. The toe was human, having turned after being severed. He looked to the forest where the wolf had vanished. She was out there somewhere, injured. He had to find her.
“Prince Etienne, be careful!”
The raised voices behind him were like nails raking over a chalkboard. Etienne gritted his teeth, knowing his wolf was close to the surface now. He wanted to change, to take the form that would let him find Loupe. But he could not, not with his subjects staring in droves behind him.
I don’t care.
Etienne took off toward the woods, ignoring the screams of alarm from behind him. He ran, worry for Loupe and determination to keep her safe filling him with a heady rush of adrenaline. As soon as he broke the treeline he tore at his clothes. In seconds he was naked and he finally, finally let go of his control and threw himself into the change.
The rush of his beast was a balm on his fractured soul. Unlike Loupe, Etienne had no fear of his beast, he welcomed it. The wolf poured through him in a smooth, graceful wave, springing from his human form in a painless shift. He hit the ground on all fours and immediately searched for Loupe’s scent. He picked it up a few yards from where he’d entered the woods.
Hope sprang to life in his chest only to be dashed seconds later when he followed it to the small river that ran through the forest. Snapping his jaws in frustration, Etienne searched frantically along the river in both directions. Not finding any trace of her, he leaped into the current. There hadn’t been rain for a few weeks, so thankfully the water was not rushing with full force.
The shock of the cold didn’t even bother him, his thick fur and heightened body temperature shielding him from the worst of it. He had the vague thought that it would be a good thing if Loupe had leaped into the water, as the cold would help slow the rate of blood loss. Fear gripped him as he remembered that loup garou did not have the same enhanced healing rate that born werewolves did.
On the other side of the river, Etienne searched desperately but could find no trace of Loupe. Her scent had been too diluted. It would take him forever to pick it up and she had too much of a head start now. He sniffed around for a while longer, trying to pick up a trace, but it was gone.
With a real growl of frustration, Etienne raced back to the palace, entering through the secret passageway. He exited into his room, not surprised to find his father already there.
“They shot off her toe,” he said as soon as he’d regained his human form.
“Oh! The poor girl.”
Etienne whipped around to find the witch standing in his doorway.
“Can you find her?” the witch asked urgently.
“What do you know about it?” Etienne snapped.
“I saw her clothes on the balcony after you left and the way you went tearing out across the grass. Add that to the…enthusiastic way you were dancing with the girl and the ‘attack’ by the wolf… It did not take a genius to figure out what happened.”
“Did you know that girl was a loup garou?” the king demanded.
“If I’d had any clue that the woman was a loup garou, don’t you think I would have informed you immediately?” the witch demanded, her brown eyes flashing. She straightened her spine and glared at the king.
Etienne stared, amazed at the difference between how she spoke to him and how she spoke to his father. With Etienne the witch was cowed, humbled, her voice always tinged with guilt. Seeing how proud and assertive she was with the king, Etienne realized just how much her guilt over what she’d done to Etienne affected her. It made him glad that he’d always tried to be calm about the “blessing” when dealing with the witch.
“I lost her scent in the woods by the river,” Etienne spoke up finally, getting between the witch and his father. “She has too much of a head start. Even without the advanced healing of a born werewolf, she’s stronger than a natural wolf. The wound won’t kill her.”
Just saying the thought out loud turned Etienne’s stomach. Perhaps he should have tried to pursue her. Even with the time he’d lost fighting through the crowd of his subjects, perhaps he could have caught up to Loupe.
He admonished himself. No animal moved faster than a panicked wolf. He stalked over to his dresser and pulled out some clothes. “Instinct will take her home. I need to be at her house when she gets there. Who knows what her family will do if they discover her secret?”
“If you know where she’s headed, why didn’t you head that way when you went out to pursue her?” the witch asked.
“I am only guessing that she’s heading home,” Etienne admitted. “And even if I’m right, I could hardly have followed her in wolf form. I’m not sure which would shock her family more, a wolf or a naked prince.”
The witch glanced down as if just noticing that he didn’t have any clothes on. “I see. A valid point, Your Highness.”
“I need to find her home.”
“You don’t know where she lives?”
Etienne clenched his teeth, frustration making his temper spike. He fought not to snap at the witch and her persisting questions. “No. But I know where to start looking.” He suppressed a flare of annoyance. “The trick will be remaining calm through the social niceties of knocking on the wrong doors first if I don’t get lucky and guess Loupe’s right away.”
“Ah yes,” the witch mused. “I would imagine many mothers and daughters will try to get you to stay a little longer in the hopes of…distracting you from your goal.” She paused and tapped her chin. “Bring me the toe.”
“I beg your pardon?” Etienne stared at her. His father, who’d been silently observing their exchange, looked just as shocked.
“Bring me the toe,” the witch repeated calmly. “I will glamour it to look like the dress shoe Loupe was wearing. We’ll say the young lady heard the commotion outside, became frightened, and fled. The entire kingdom saw the way you looked at her, danced with her. Your love for her was plain for all to see. No one will question how devastated you are at her disappearance and they will find it only too natural when you vigorously pursue her. After I cast the glamour, you will have a herald announce that the prince will marry the girl who fits the slipper.”
“Don’t be daft,” Etienne gasped. “I’ll do no such thing.” His mind whirled with all the possible maidens who might fit the “slipper.” He had no intentions of blindly announcing a marriage challenge.
“The ‘slipper’ will only fit Loupe. It is her toe after all.”
“No one is going to believe that story. It’s ridiculous.”
The witch gave him what he assumed was meant to be a reassuring smile. “There was the definite glow of magic about Loupe last night. Some of your subjects are bound to have noticed it. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if some of them thought a member of the fey had entered your ballroom. Believe me, Your Highness. This will work.” She smirked. “Besides, your people will believe any story that gives them all what seems like a very good chance at marrying the prince.”
“She’s not wrong, you know,” the king muttered reluctantly, finally speaking up. “If I know women—”
“If you know women, what, dear?”
Both the king and prince snapped to attention as the queen floated over the threshold. Despite the vision of distress and worry that Etienne had been expecting, his mother was the epitome of cool, calm and confidence.
“My love, I didn’t see you there,” the king said smoothly, sweeping across the room to take her hand.
“Of course you didn’t, dear.” The queen stared at Etienne. “Etienne, do my eyes deceive me, or was that beautiful young lady our Loupe?”
Before Midnight (Book 1) (Blood Prince Series) Page 11