“Oh look, my little pet is awake!” Philippe said jovially.
The figure turned and locked his eyes on Netriet. She instantly pulled back a little farther under the pelt she was covered with. He was the smallest werewolf she had ever seen, with weak shoulders, and eyes as flat as his voice. He didn’t look as wolfish in his man form as most did; he looked like part rat.
“Nettie, this is Ambassador Marius. He’s just returned from Paradigm, and he’s got the answer we’ve been looking for.”
Netriet said nothing and curled up tighter. Ambassador Marius stared at her with his dead eyes. She hoped Philippe would send him away. Her gaze shifted pleadingly onto Philippe for a split second, something Ambassador Marius noticed.
“I find the fact that you thought to keep her most fascinating,” Marius said.
Philippe merely grunted.
“And you’ve been using her to try and figure out how to master the collar, experimenting on her?” His voice gave its first inflection when he’d said the word ‘experimenting’, like a slithering caress.
“Yes. I’m glad I didn’t kill her, she’s been very useful, and she’s often quite witty too.”
“How nice,” Marius said flatly. “Can I see the collar?” He held his hand out to Philippe, who dropped the ring into his hand.
Marius held it up close to his face and twisted it all the way around. “Yes, yes. I can see why you’ve had trouble with this given that you had no instruction. Damn wizards think they’re so clever. See here, around the stone, the engravings in the wizard’s language? I don’t understand all of the words, but there is one I have no doubt about. This one.” He indicated which character he was talking about to Philippe with his pinky finger. “It means ‘teeth.’”
“Teeth?”
“Yes. This collar will not recognize you as its master until you have allowed it to bite you.”
“Bite me?” Philippe sounded alarmed. “What do you mean, bite me?”
“You must put it on one of your own fingers and press down on the stone. The spikes inside the band will pierce your skin and absorb a small amount of your blood. You see how the stone is clear? Once it has accepted you as its master, the stone will change colors. There’s no knowing what color it will become. I assume the stone was colored when this messenger arrived?”
“Uh, yeah. It was a yellowish color,” Philippe said.
Ambassador Marius handed the collar back to Philippe who looked at the object dubiously for the first time.
“So, once I’m its new master, how do I give it a task?” Philippe asked.
“When you have someone you want to perform a task, all you have to do is slip it on. It won’t bite you a second time. Tell the collar, inside your mind—there is no need to speak aloud—what the person is to do, and the collar will change colors again. It will remain the color it changes until the task is completed or the collared person dies.”
“And what will happen if the person dies far away from me and I cannot get the collar back?” Philippe asked.
Ambassador Marius shrugged. “There is no way to claim the collar forever unless you never use it. It will eventually pass on to someone else, but if the people you use it on are able to stay alive, then you may have control of it for a long time.”
Philippe grunted as he considered Ambassador Marius’ words. “Thank you, Marius. You may leave now.”
Netriet watched as Marius bowed and turned to leave. He hesitated for a second, looking down at her lying on Philippe’s bed. She shivered again under his gaze. Why didn’t he just leave? His eyes were like zombies, dead things mindlessly trying to devour anything living.
Philippe noticed Marius’ staring at her. “You are bound to silence, Marius. You may tell no one about her.”
“What are you going to do with her now that you know how to work the collar?” he asked, not taking his eyes off her.
“That is none of your concern,” Philippe said icily.
“I only asked because I was wondering if I could have her?”
“Why?”
“The same reason you’ve kept her. I have a few experiments of my own I’d like to try.”
Netriet looked pleadingly and panic stricken at Philippe. No matter how he had tortured her or how much she hated him, she would rather spend the last little bit of her miserable life with him than the likes of Ambassador Marius.
Philippe noticed her panic and understood it. “I’m not yet finished with her, Marius,” he said dismissively. “Be sure to have the cook provide you with dinner on your way out.”
Marius lingered a second longer before he slunk out the chamber door.
Philippe came over to her and sat down on the edge of the bed. He pulled the wolf pelt down so he could examine the stump just below her shoulder. Then he looked sharply in her eyes with the examining gaze of a doctor. “You’re still very weak, but you are better.” He smiled wickedly. “I see you took quite a liking to Ambassador Marius.”
Netriet gave him a droll stare, and he laughed. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this weird codependency they seemed to have formed. The thing she feared most was that his affection for her had mutated into something so unnatural that he would try to keep her alive indefinitely and keep her with him like a real pet.
“So let’s see if Marius was right about this thing,” he said holding the collar up close to his face.
He slid the large ring onto his smallest finger, his others being entirely too big to fit, and pushed down on the clear stone. She heard the spikes engage, and Philippe grimaced but took the pain like a man. The stone swirled with red that she was sure was his blood then it turned a solid black. The faint sound of metal on metal told her that the spikes receded, and Philippe pulled the collar off his finger. He held his pinky up for her to see the little puncture wounds encircling his finger before putting it in his mouth and giving it a little suck.
“Nasty little thing isn’t it?” he asked.
She gave him a dirty look. “No, not at all,” she said sarcastically. “It only cost me my arm.”
He laughed again. “Okay, you’re right, you win.” He looked at her seriously then. “Are you ready?” he asked.
She sighed and reached up with her remaining hand. He took it and pulled her into a sitting position. The room tilted sickeningly for a moment.
“I’m going to give you a task that I know you could never do without being collared. Well, at least not convincingly.” He put the ring back on his finger and closed his eyes, telling the collar he wanted her to do inside his head. Then he put it on her middle finger. The collar’s teeth bit down into her flesh.
“This is going to be hard for you, but if you don’t succeed, I’ll just have to chop off your arm again. Failure is not your ticket out of here, Nettie. I won’t let it kill you. Now, tell me you love me. “ Philippe ordered.
“That is my task?”
“Yes. Convince me.”
Hate and bile rose in the back of Netriet’s throat. And she wondered, just how badly did she want to keep her arm?
****
With the exception of the occasional werewolf party, Shi’s existence had been mostly peaceful for the last few years. Now she seemed to have her hands full all of a sudden. Philippe was preparing for war, Maxcarion had been attempting to conceal himself from her, Forest had come back to the Wood with a blind vampire mage who just happened to be the prince and her life mate, and now a whole troop of vampires from the Onyx Castle had just crept through her southwestern border. Shi quickly perused through each of them in turn, reading their hearts and their minds. They were following Forest and Syrus on Royal orders. Their leader, Redge, was a good man. Well, good for a vampire. But the presence of the vampires could cause Forest serious problems and possibly ruin her whole mission. Shi decided to contain them.
Until she chose to release them, the troop would wander in circles, confused and directionless in an area where they would not be discovered by the wolves. Setting up the paramete
r around the vampires was not difficult for Shi but it required her attention and time, leaving Forest unguarded.
Chapter Seventeen
SYRUS WAS in deep meditation, trying to figure out how he could keep Forest with him once his sight was restored. He could give her a title, but he knew she would hate him for it. She wouldn’t accept anything she didn’t earn. Why couldn’t he shut off the relentless mantra inside him that forever chanted she was his? Was it merely a strong physical attraction? Sexual chemistry and nothing more? Thinking that was painful. It wasn’t true. She was his friend. But did she really consider him her friend in return?
A distant growling brought Syrus to the here and now with a sharp jolt. He had been lulled into a false sense of security, thinking that the dryad ghost was protecting them. He immediately stretched out his mage senses. From the sound of their movement and their breathing, there were three of them and they were in beast form. Damn it. Wolves were at their best in combat when in their half man, half wolf, beast form. Syrus listened intently. They were doing more than taking a stroll; they were skulking this way for a reason. They knew Forest and Syrus were there and they wanted blood.
Syrus covered Forest’s mouth with his hand before roughly shaking her awake. As he anticipated, she struggled against him and screamed into his hand.
“Three wolves are headed this way in beast form,” Syrus hissed in her ear.
Syrus pulled his hand away from her mouth. She asked nothing but instantly got to her feet and reached for her sword. The wolves would be right on top of them in seconds.
“We fight together,” Forest said under her breath. “Back to back, as long as we can. I’ll become invisible and you shadow.”
“Agreed.” Syrus turned and pressed his back to hers, pulling his short swords from their sheaths.
The wolves climbed the boulders, their claws scratching and skidding on the rock. The moon fell on their disfigured backs, outlining them. Three silhouettes like black paper cutouts with glistening eyes, claws, and teeth.
Forest had never been in this kind of fight. She had never fought against a wolf. She was always on their side. One of these wolf monsters might be someone she knew, maybe even a friend. But there was no reluctance in her. They wanted to kill her mate. She would show no mercy.
The wolves looked down at Forest and Syrus though they could not see her and he blended into the darkness, their weapons however were plainly visible, hovering in midair at the ready. They all growled and salivated revoltingly. The one on the right moved prematurely and jumped down before the other two. He died the second his feet hit the ground in front of Forest. She swiftly hacked a large x on the front of him, from his shoulders to his hips, and he went down without causing any more trouble.
The other two barked angrily but made no move to join their comrade. They exchanged a glance, and then backed down out of sight. Forest’s heart pumped harder. These two would not die as easily as the first. Syrus’ back pressed against hers though his flesh felt insubstantial now that he was shadowing. The two beasts stood between the boulders, motionless except for their breathing.
The moment hovered before them. Forest knew when it happened it would happen fast and they could be dealt victory or great loss; a possible bump in the road or the moment when everything would change. She had never felt this kind of fear before. Cutting your way through enemies for the sake of your job or your own life was one thing. Protecting what you held most precious was something else entirely. It was the first time she had ever doubted her ability to win. She and Syrus had stealth and weapons and mad skills, but the beasts had abnormal size and strength and animal instincts.
The two beasts charged at the same time. Forest slashed at the neck of the one in front of her, but he dropped and skidded into her, knocking her off her feet. She slashed again at him but from her poor position only grazed his shoulder, a mere scratch. Syrus had thrown one of his swords at his opponent, stabbing the beast deep in the torso, but not piercing any vital organs. Forest scrambled desperately to get to her feet while the beast she fought swung and grabbed at the air, trying to catch his invisible adversary. Forest had to duck and roll to avoid his claws. She came up behind him and thrust her sword at his back, in what would have been a killing strike, had she not been knocked in the back of the head by the flailing arm of the other beast. The blow sent her skidding sideways and turned her strike into a long, deep gash along the beast’s back.
The monster howled in rage and pain. Whirling around, it finally caught Forest by the hair. She was pulled down, the wind knocked out of her as she hit the ground. The beast wrenched her sword from her hand.
“Syrus!” She gasped.
The beast was now aware of where she was. It landed on its knees, hovering over her, about to tear her throat out with its teeth. Syrus had heard her breathless cry for help, and he moved so fast the dust twisted in his wake. The beast he’d been fighting, like the one now over Forest swung wildly through the air at Syrus. He ducked and ran behind it. He launched himself up with one step on the nearest boulder, twisted in midair, and the beast’s head hit the ground with one precise cut.
Syrus turned to the beast that had Forest pinned and placed his hand on the back of the wolf’s head as though he might be giving him a genial pat. The beast’s body went rigid. Its eyes widened in surprise. Syrus’ face contorted with rage, and red waves of light pulsed down his arm like lightning made of fire. Forest remembered his story about becoming a mage and gaining the ability to weaponize his rage. What looked like a softball-sized red and black marble sphere appeared on his chest. It moved to his shoulder, down his arm to his hand, and absorbed into the head of the werewolf. The wolf got to his feet and staggered to the center of their little arena. Then a sound like breaking glass erupted from inside him. He gave one lurch and fell in a heap at Syrus’ feet.
Syrus picked Forest up off the ground and held her in a tight embrace. “Are you all right? Are you hurt at all?”
“I’m fine,” she said and then giggled with relief and hugged him tightly. “Are you hurt?”
“Just this.” He held his hand up for her to see. A ragged gash on the fleshy area under his pinky ran to his wrist. “Caught me with one of his claws.” Syrus kicked the nearest dead body spitefully. “Rabid puppy!” He spat at the corpse. “It stings something awful.”
“Maybe he infected you with something and you’ll start to turn half wolf,” she teased.
“Shut up! That’s not funny!”
“Maybe not,” she laughed. “But you are.”
She realized then just how scared she had been, and now that it was over, she couldn’t remember a time when she felt so light and happy.
“Yuck,” she surveyed their camp. They needed to move the bodies and cover them with something. “We need to move our camp.”
“Naw, we don’t. I’ll handle it. You might want to step back though.”
Forest backed up out of the little protected area that was now disheveled and blood spattered, watching Syrus bemusedly. He stood with his back pressed against one of the boulders and stretched his arms out. His body began to crack and snap with the same red lightning that had danced along his arm. A cyclone began to twist in front of him, throwing everything in the small space into the air. Their backpacks and sleeping bags flew around the top while the bodies circled the bottom. A hole began to open on the ground like an ant lion’s, and the dirt swallowed up the dead. Forest’s mouth was hanging open in amazement, and she caught a handful of dirt in her teeth.
The little tornado spun itself into nothing as quickly as it had appeared. Their packs and sleeping bags sat neatly on the ground again, and Syrus emerged, shaking dirt from his hair.
“Syrus, you’re awesome!” she sounded like a fourteen-year-old fangirl .
“Thanks.” He shook his head at her, sprinkling her with dirt, and she shoved him away, laughing.
“The dust scrubbed the whole area and our stuff clean of blood,” he explained.
Syrus grimaced as he rubbed his hands on his grimy jeans. Then his face lit up a little, and he smiled at her. “How about we take that little dip we talked about earlier, right now?”
“Oh yeah! Race you!” She took off toward the smaller, secluded falls.
Syrus laughed and followed at a leisurely pace. He was in no danger of losing her; the trail she left behind smelled too bad.
As soon as Forest hit the small beach, she kicked her shoes off, threw her shirt in the air, and peeled off her nasty jeans, leaving it all in a pile. She plunged under the water, wearing only her bra and panties, and her brain did an immediate AAAhhhh! She stroked to the falls ahead. Nine total fell over the crescent shaped cliff. Most of the falls hit the water in a deep place, but Forest knew where to go. She put her feet down on the wide rock shelf, waist deep, the shimmery water splashing over her head and torso. The sheet of water concealed a cave behind it, and Forest fully intended to loll in the pool inside the cave once she felt totally clean.
The water splashed down on her, washing away the grime. She turned to look for Syrus and spotted him moving through the trees. He came running, barefoot and bare-chested. As his foot hit the shore, he launched into the air, soaring like an eagle in a wide arch before plunging into the water in a perfect dive, fifty feet from where Forest stood. She watched him sliding under the water toward her and an intimate emotion punched her right in the gut. Forest felt her cheeks stain with heat. She turned away from him and lifted her face to the water as he came up for air behind her.
Forbidden Forest (The Legends of Regia) Page 19