Keeper of the Wolves

by Cheree Alsop

  Her head lifted and she turned. Her eyes widened when they met mine, and though her familiar smile touched her lips, there was something about the way she held my gaze, expectant and curious as if she guessed my intentions. I wondered if Rasmus had said anything about our spontaneous class, but I doubted it. The General seemed as uncomfortable about teaching me how to dance as I was to be taught. Together, we made up a very unfortunate dancing team filled with awkward moments I would rather not remember.

  Lord Brayton followed Koya’s gaze. His lips tightened, though I couldn’t tell if it was in a smile or a frown. I bowed and the other members of the group around Koya took notice of my presence.

  “Lord Tramarius?” she asked politely.

  I held out my hand and smiled at the way her gaze jumped to mine to see if I was serious. For the first time in my life, I found it hard to keep from laughing as I led my Lady to the dance floor. Her gloved fingers skittered in mine as if I held a butterfly instead of a woman’s delicate hand. I caught her sideways glance and gave her a confident nod despite the nerves that suddenly twisted in my stomach. I heard the music and saw the whirlwind of dancers as they congregated for the next tune. Luckily, Rasmus’ timing proved true. They played the one and only dance my feet knew, though my brain doubted I could remember the steps.

  “You are full of surprises,” Koya said quietly when I held my hands palms-out as the dance dictated. She lined her hands with mine and we both bowed with our hands touching.

  “You asked for one night,” I reminded her with a whisper when we stepped together.

  She pushed against my right hand and spun away. I caught her right hand behind my back and pulled her around in a half circle, then we stepped to the left three times and performed the move again. The dance then called for several quick steps to the right completed on the balls of the feet. I had felt silly doing it in rehearsal with Rasmus, but now I was grateful he had made me practice over and over until I got the steps right.

  “Who taught you how to dance?” Koya asked in amazement when the next circle brought us back together.

  I shook my head, refusing to impart my secrets.

  She laughed and guessed, “Rasmus.”

  At my stare, she spun under my arm and whispered in my ear, “You aren’t the only one with secrets.” She then laughed again and said, “There was a time when the General was the best dancer north of Miduan.”

  “He was reluctant,” I admitted.

  She grinned and light danced in her eyes. “I wish I had been there to see it.”

  “I think he’d rather kill me.”

  She laughed outright at that admission and the sound rang loud across the ballroom at a particularly quiet drop in the music. Her cheeks flushed prettily at the unexpected attention her outburst received, and she stepped docilely along until others forgot about her unmannerly conduct.

  Another difficult step came up and I botched it entirely, stepping both on Koya’s foot and bumping into a tall gentleman whose mustache curled up so that it almost touched his eyebrows. I gave him a bow of apology and tried to get back on beat, but the steps fled me completely. I tried something different, ended up tripping a gentleman and a lady whose clothing was decorated with multi-colored feathers, and nearly sent a table of refreshments crashing to the ground. I gave up and laughed at the hopelessness of it; Koya joined in my laughter, leaning against me as she fought to catch her breath.

  “We’d better get off the floor before we’re run over,” she gasped.

  I grabbed her hand and we practically fled the ballroom floor. We collapsed into seats at an empty table and she gave in to hysterical laughter that had tears rolling down her face before she regained control. I laughed so hard at the sight of her that my sides hurt by the time we stopped. Several onlookers gazed down their noses at us and left to find a quieter place to watch the dance. For some reason, that made us laugh even more.

  “I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in years,” Koya said. She rested her hand on mine. I smiled at the familiar warmth that ran up my arm. “Thank you for a perfect, albeit unusual, evening.”

  A throat cleared behind me and I jumped, surprised at how much I had let down my guard. I barely fought back a growl as I turned around. I caught myself at the sight of a young woman with straight black hair and dark eyes highlighted in light purple. A scent of honey and buttercream touched my nose. Her lips lifted in a smile the moment her eyes met mine, but even though there was warmth to her gaze, I saw something else that surprised me. Possessiveness.

  “It seems the Ambassador can dance,” she said in a tone that both invited my attention and carried an underlying note of warning.

  I glanced at Koya, wondering if she caught it. Her gaze was calm, but a spark of icy emotion showed in the blue depths of her eyes. “Lady Verian, thank you for gracing us with your company.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” she said, though the cast of her eyes indicated that it wasn’t quite the pleasure she described. She turned to me and her lips twisted again in the predatory smile. “I hope I’m not being forward, Ambassador, but I was wondering if I could entice you into another dance.”

  Koya’s lips tightened into a brief frown that disappeared before she spoke. “My apologies Verian, but the Ambassador doesn’t know many of our Ralan dances.”

  Lady Verian’s eyebrow quirked pointedly. “He did quite well with you.”

  “I don’t know if others would agree,” Koya said. A touch of laughter hinted in her voice, but it died at Verian’s cold gaze.

  “I don’t suppose he can answer for himself.”

  Koya’s eyes flickered to me, then back to meet Verian’s. “Unfortunately, his grasp of our language is fleeting at best. Protocol dictates a dance, and I have fulfilled our duty.”

  Taking that as my cue, I rose and walked to the refreshments table. Lady Verian gave a quiet huff behind me as if I had offended her. I fought back a smile, then paused when I saw a servant behind the table grinning as if she couldn’t help herself. She met my gaze and her smile fell. On impulse, I winked at her the way I had seen Joven do. She stared, then the smile reappeared. She handed me a plate with several delicacies already on it.

  “Thank you,” I whispered conspiratorially.

  The color ran from her face at being addressed, but she swallowed and whispered back, “You’re welcome, Ambassador Tramarius.”

  I smiled at her and she bobbed a quick curtsey before I turned away. Koya was no longer at our table. I found her with a group of girls at the far end of the ballroom. Lady Verian smiled at me and tipped her head to indicate that I should join them, but I pretended not to notice the invitation. She whispered to a girl with striking red hair. They both looked at me and giggled in a high pitch that hurt my ears. I didn’t know whether to feel flattered or dismayed; both reactions confused me. I turned away in time to see Lord Brayton make his way across the ballroom toward the group.

  The Lord bowed and all of the girls in the group simpered like a flock of peafowl. The bright colors of their dresses and hairpieces perfected the analogy. I couldn’t help but smile at the reminder that in the wild usually the male tried to impress the female with his dashing looks and charm. In society, on the other hand, it seemed females wore anything they could to catch a male’s attention.

  One lady fanned herself with an object made of peacock feathers, an irony that almost made me lose my composure and laugh out loud. Another woman wore a headdress of brightly painted wooden scales that made it look as if she bore a rainbow on her head. The blonde-haired female next to Koya sported gloves of bright pink material that caught the light whenever she moved her hands, which was quite often, attesting to the fact that she knew of the distraction she caused.

  To my dismay, Lord Brayton spoke quietly, then bowed and held out a hand to Koya. A fist grabbed my heart when her hand slid into his and he led her to the ballroom floor. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them as Koya spun across the room with the grace of a dandelion frond fl
oating along on a meadow breeze. Her light yellow dress added to the effect, and when her hand touched Lord Brayton’s, I couldn’t help but notice the matching yellow rose in the breast pocket of his white suit.

  My heart burned. I reminded myself that she needed a suitor who would care for her, not an oaf like Lord Vesut. Lord Brayton had shown only the most proper of attention, and his smile was genuine, not filled with greed or want. He truly saw her as a friend, if not more.

  A growl tore from my throat. I turned to find two servants staring at me. I flashed my teeth in a quick snarl before I could help myself. They disappeared through a door hidden among the colorful tapestries that lined the wall. Regret touched my thoughts and doubled when the dance ended. I watched with a heavy heart as an unknown gentleman in a bright blue suit asked for her next dance, followed by Lord Brayton again. As the dance ended, her light laugh colored the air.

  I turned away, worried I would take down Lord Brayton as I had Vesut. The wolf side of me demanded a chance to claim her as my own, to fight for her and show that I found her worth dying for, and worth living for. The human side of me argued that such a reaction was brash and I would be forced to leave again. I couldn’t stand being across the ballroom from her. My limbs twitched as the wolf struggled to break free. Spending part of the day human as well as the night was truly testing my control.

  “Vielkeep knows how to serve refreshments.”

  It took every ounce of strength I had not to change into wolf form and attack Lord Brayton. I clenched my hands at my sides and turned slowly, afraid to give my instincts any reign. The Lord met my cautious look with curiosity. “Lady Koya mentioned that you might take our dancing together in the wrong light.” A slight smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Such an admission leads one to believe there might be feelings that border on affection.”

  I took a breath to calm my pounding heart. As of yet, he hadn’t said anything to offend me, but Rasmus had warned that in society words had double meanings. I tried to make sense of any insinuations as I watched him carefully.

  His brows pulled together and his head tipped slightly forward. “Ambassador Victus, let me assure you that my intentions toward Koya only pertain to friendship. I have no wish to court her.”

  I didn’t know whether to feel relieved on my own behalf, or to feel disappointment for Koya. Lord Brayton was the only one who had treated her as an actual person, not as some prize or property to be won. At my continued silence, the Lord lowered his voice. “I’ve seen the way you look at her,” he said quietly for only my ears. “I just didn’t want you to second-guess my purpose.”

  I held his gaze. “What is your purpose?” I asked evenly.

  His eyes widened slightly. It was the only sign of surprise he gave to my reply. “To ensure that she doesn’t settle for a power-grasping mongrel like Vesut.” I gritted my teeth at his name and Lord Brayton nodded. “I see you agree.” He glanced around. “Would you prefer to talk outdoors away from our stuffy company?”

  I looked up to see several ladies watching us. I couldn’t tell if it was Brayton or I who held their attention, but they were uncomfortably close for my liking. I searched for Koya. She was chatting amiably with the rotund couple from Sunhold. Joven stood with her, a lady in dark green with black feathers in her hair at his elbow.

  “Rasmus has his eye on Lady Vielslayer,” Brayton said in answer to my unspoken concern.

  My eyes drifted around the room and I found the General leaning against a column nearby, his eyes never resting as he studied the crowd ringing the brother and sister.

  I nodded and Brayton tipped his head in something closer to a bow. “I appreciate your time,” he said.

  I followed him outside. My wolf instincts kept me from turning my back on someone whose measure I couldn’t quite take. He spoke casually, but his step was that of a warrior, careful and ready despite his calm demeanor. A sliver of silver flashed in the candlelight of the hallway and a closer look revealed a knife hidden beneath his jerkin. I felt a grudging respect for someone who didn’t let his guard down completely.

  The night air carried the promise of winter in the chilling breeze that wrapped around our ankles and grasped at our hands. I welcomed the scent of evergreens and loam it carried from beyond the wall. An answering chill ran up my arms, not from the cold, but from the wolf who ached to be free of the human confines. I clenched my jaw against the pressing need to change. I was testing my luck; I didn’t have much time before it was beyond my control.

  We walked in silence across the short trimmed grass to a grove of trees with benches interspersed. Several were occupied by ballroom attendants who sought them out either for a more private conversation such as was our objective, or for courting of a type more intimate than was appropriate in the well-lit ballroom.

  We skirted several such couples and made our way through the copse to the far wall. Lord Brayton studied the gray bricks for several minutes. When he turned back to me, his gaze was stormy and troubled. An overpowering scent of frustration wafted from him. “You can’t let her go with Vesut.”

  I studied him, uncertain as to the source of his anger. “I can’t decide for her.”

  “You care about her, don’t you?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, then reminded myself that I owed him nothing. I took another breath of the night air and clenched my hands against the need to run beneath the trees with the wind in my fur.

  At my silence, his anger intensified. “If you care about her at all, you won’t let her go with him.”

  “I can’t,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

  His eyes searched mine with a directness that took me aback. “What is it? Money? Land? I can give you both. You could take her away from all of this.”

  I shook my head and a knot formed in my throat at the real reason.

  “Dang it, man,” he shouted. “Don’t you see what he would do with her? She is nothing to him, a prize to be flaunted and then thrown away.”

  I bared my teeth at the frustration in his voice. It was all I could do to hold still and keep from attacking him. The animal inside of me, the animal that was me, I reminded myself, wanted to show him he couldn’t intimidate or threaten me. His words were about Koya, but his stance, the way his fists clenched and unclenched, and the unconscious steps he took in my direction as he spoke said that he wanted to attack someone as much as I did. But the look in his eyes wasn’t directed at me.

  “He’ll throw her away when he’s through with her,” he repeated. His gaze shifted from me to the wall. Dark things flitted past his eyes, haunted visions that made his jaw clench and brows lower. Then something caught my searching gaze, a glimmer of light along the bottom rim of his eyes. He was crying.

  I took a step back in surprise. He jerked his face toward me again and the tears broke free. I had never seen a man cry. He dashed them from his cheeks, then stared at the moisture on his fingertips as if shocked to see it there. He put a hand to his eyes and squeezed them tightly. His fist hit weakly against the wall. “You must think I’m insane,” he said.

  But I didn’t. I knew the look in his gaze and the lost, hollow expression on his face. I had seen the same countenance only once. My chest tightened in compassion. The look had been on the face of a wolf who had just lost her mate to the impaling horns of an elk. Her golden eyes had clouded in the same fashion, her gaze lost as if the stars had vanished from the sky. She wasn’t the same after losing him, and in wolf fashion chose to live the rest of her life alone. She was a creature misplaced, her eyes always searching the edges of meadows and elusive shadows for her fallen mate.

  Brayton mourned the loss of someone so dear her absence had etched itself in the lines of his face and the shadows of his eyes.

  “What happened to her?” I asked softly.

  He closed his eyes as more tears leaked free. He leaned his head against the rough bricks; his palms rested on the stones as if they were the only real things in the world. “I loved her,
” he said in a tight voice. “I loved her and he sent her away.”

  Brayton fell silent. His words pressed around me, echoing the fear in my heart that I would lose Koya and ache the way he did. But there was more to his story. Agony flooded from him in a sharp wave of bitter sadness. The scent filled my nose and I tried to breathe it away, but I was too close to him for the evening breeze to chase his mourning from the air. “To someone who didn’t love her,” I guessed quietly.

  Self-loathing flooded his face and the words poured out of him in a rush as if they had been fighting to get free. “She was a scullery maid in the kitchens, working off her family’s debt when they were unable to pay my father’s taxes.” He swallowed and shook his head. “Abilene’s feet barely touched the ground. She moved with such grace even watching her walk was like viewing a delicate dance. And her voice,” his words caught in his throat and starlight reflected in fresh tears that filled his eyes but refused to fall. He swallowed again. “When she sang, every servant in the castle filled the kitchens. I fell in love with her voice before I even saw her.”

  He glanced at me and a slight, sad smile touched his eyes. “It was her voice I followed to the kitchens the first night I saw her. A sound so sweet my heart was hers before I even saw the way her black hair brought out the deep mossy green of her eyes, or how her fingers could braid grass into the most delicate of wreaths for the servants’ children even after hours of washing dishes.”

  He fell silent and I knew not to press him. The look in his eyes had changed from the haunted, hollow depths to something lighter and almost happy. I let him have his moment, certain he experienced few memories so fond.