The Wolf Prince

CHAPTER 4



Here we go, Willow told herself as she propelled herself forward, aiming for the single empty chair at the table. She tried to move gracefully, even though exhaustion from the night before made her legs feel hollow and wobbly. Eyeing her sister as she approached, she wondered why Tatiana looked so smug, like a cat that had wandered across a mouse farm.

Of course the moment she took her attention from what she was supposed to be doing, Willow stumbled. She flailed her arms in a passable imitation of a windmill, nearly tearing her dress in her painful attempt to keep from falling flat on her face.

Despite the exhausted weakness of her traitorous body, she miraculously managed to keep standing.

Both princes immediately leaped to their feet to offer their assistance. Face flaming, she waved them away, not missing the wry look her father gave her.

At least her family was used to her complete lack of social skills. While this was her first fall, she was frequently guilty of other faux pas, like saying the wrong thing at the worst possible time. No doubt these two visiting princes had heard stories about her. Even as they once again took their seats, their backs stiff and unyielding, she felt their silence as a form of judgment. She didn’t even try to look at her mother, already aware of the furious condemnation she’d find there.

Instead she glanced again at her sister. Tatiana only tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. Normally, she would have made cruel jokes and laughed meanly. Instead, she sat solemnly, her golden beauty glowing, a sympathetic look on her beautiful face. False, but sympathetic nonetheless.

Weird. Really, really weird.

As she resumed her progress toward her seat, remembering what her sister had said, Willow tried to check out their visitors surreptitiously. Tatiana sat between the two princes, their three fair heads the exact same glorious gold, their eyes varying shades of violet, though close enough that they might have been related.

They were perfect examples of the Bright. As shimmering, as golden, as Willow was not. In fact, all of them were as unlike her as it was possible to be. Yet this time, she refused to let them make her feel...less. Because she knew she wasn’t. Prince Ruben had shown her this. If only for one night. She’d felt beautiful, perfect, shining. As she never had before. She wanted to keep that feeling close to her for as long as she could.

The only empty chair for her sat next to the man on Tatiana’s left, which meant he must be the younger son, the one her parents intended her to wed.

Her father stood and pulled out the chair as she approached, glaring at her as though he dared her not to do anything else to humiliate herself and by proxy, them. Only when she was safely seated did he speak.

“Prince Chad, may I present my youngest daughter, the Princess Willow.”

Chad stood, his expression shuttered. He didn’t meet her gaze while he bowed over her fingers. Since this was a formal breakfast, protocol dictated that he kiss her hand, something Willow had always hated. Some kisses were too much, slimy and wet. Others were dry, reminding her of snakes and bats. She’d endured them all time and time again, ever since she’d been a small girl. Always, there was no escaping this archaic ritual, so she suffered through it with a bland smile. When Prince Chad met her smile with an ironic one of his own, she realized he must hate the old-fashioned greeting as much as she did.

His mouth moved over her hand, the barest whisper.

Finally, he released her, dipping his cleft chin in a mock bow. The small glimmer of hilarity she saw in his violet gaze warmed her. Surprising. She thought she might actually like this man, despite his too-good-to-be-true handsomeness.

The other—Prince Eric, no doubt—leaned across in front of Tatiana, his corded arm scraping her considerable bosom, causing Tatiana to draw her breath in a sharp hiss. If he noticed, he paid her no heed, fixing his bright violet eyes on Willow and flashing a dazzling smile that would have been painfully beautiful if it weren’t so practiced.

“I’m Prince Eric,” he intoned, his rich baritone both deliberately seductive and impossibly arrogant. Tatiana’s intended. Willow nodded in acknowledgment.

As her sister had mentioned, Eric was beautiful, in the same way as Tatiana. They were both flawless, golden and oh-so-Bright. Together, they would make a breathtaking couple. And their children would be perfect visions of Brightness. She tried to ignore the envy that coiled in her stomach.

Instead, she opened her mouth to pay them the compliment, remarking on their great beauty and how that would affect their potential offspring. She then realized Tatiana might not appreciate it, especially after what she’d said earlier.

“Pleased to meet you,” Willow said lamely instead.

Was that actually amusement that flashed in her sister’s bright violet eyes?

Though she’d already taken her seat, Chad began to fuss with her chair, ostensibly to help her get settled comfortably. She glanced sideways at him and felt...nothing. Which actually was a relief. He was no Prince Ruben, that was for sure.

The thought startled her. Merely thinking of the human prince made her entire body feel warm. Until she remembered the earring—oh, her mother’s pearl earring—and her stomach turned.

Her mother’s precious, no-doubt-magical, pearl earrings. Precious, not only because of the pearl, but because of the magical power contained within, although only their true owner knew how to use them properly.

She glanced at the queen. Luckily, though she’d decked herself out in a dazzling array of jewels for this breakfast, evidently her mother hadn’t yet realized they were missing. Willow crossed her fingers, hoping her luck held out long enough for her to travel through the veil and retrieve the lost one. Whether or not the baubles were magical, they belonged to Millicent and thus, were valuable beyond compare.

She had to find it. Or there would be hell to pay. Her mother would make sure of that. Therefore, failure wasn’t an option.

When she looked up again, she realized Prince Chad was watching her, as though trying to discern her thoughts. She pasted on her best social smile and pretended to be interested in the table arrangement.

As the servants stepped forward with an array of delicacies, her stomach growled, making her realize she was actually starving. Left to her own devices, she’d have preferred to break her fast with a hot bowl of oatmeal and fresh berries, but instead she allowed her plate to be filled with scrambled eggs, grits and sourdough toast. Though the meal looked heavy, the scent of freshly cooked food made her mouth water.

Glad to have something to do with her hands, she dug in, halfheartedly listening to the conversation swirling around her while she chewed and tried to develop a plan.

“Bright to Willow.” Prince Chad gave her a gentle nudge, nearly causing her to spew her orange juice. She gasped instead, choked and unfortunately began coughing, her eyes filling with tears as she grabbed her napkin to cover her mouth.

“Are you all right?” he asked, sounding concerned, even though a bit of ironic humor lurked in his gaze.

“Swallowed wrong,” she gasped out, waving him away. When she finally looked up, helpless, wishing she could make a quick exit from the room, everyone at the table was ogling her as though she’d grown two heads.

Some things never changed. Except they had, last night at the ball in Teslinko. That night, everything had been ideal.

She gave them a sickly smile, grabbed her napkin and wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. When she did, she saw her mascara had run and that she’d ruined her makeup. Another addition to a morning already gone bad.

Briefly, she considered excusing herself and either going to repair it or—and she liked this one better—excusing herself and never coming back. Only the steely look in her mother’s eyes warned her that she’d better not try either.

“Pssst, Willow.” Leaning around the back of Prince Chad, Tatiana rapped her on the shoulder.

Resigned, Willow leaned back. Now her sister would make sure her humiliation was complete. “Yes?”

“Lean closer,” Tatiana ordered, making Willow wonder what she was up to. Tatiana had many cruel tricks in her repertoire; she’d been perfecting them since the two were children together.

Still, Willow’d learned either to do as Tatiana asked or risk making a scene. Another scene. She leaned closer, crossing her fingers that her sister wouldn’t be too harsh this time.

“Hold still.” With gentle hands, Tatiana cleaned her face. Stunned, Willow couldn’t move. When her sister made a second pass, using some kind of compact makeup to repair the damage, Willow couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just had her face painted bright green or something.

“What are you doing?” she finally asked, careful not to touch Prince Chad’s rigid back. Unsure of the protocol, the prince was doing his best to eat and pretend the two women weren’t having a conversation directly behind him. Grudgingly, she found she admired that, too.

Meanwhile, at the head of the table Prince Eric carried on a one-sided conversation with her parents. Either he was trying to help distract them, he was oblivious, or just didn’t care. Willow was betting on the latter.

A rueful look from Tatiana showed she thought the same thing. Finally, she finished fixing Willow’s face. “There you go, sis. Good as new.”

Since Tatiana had never called her sis in her life, Willow wasn’t sure how to react. “Thanks,” she finally muttered, trying not to watch as Tatiana flashed a warm smile before turning away to pick at her own, mostly uneaten breakfast.

Uneasy, Willow tried to do the same. The food on her plate had grown cold, but she was still hungry, so she doggedly ate it anyway.

Everyone else resumed their breakfast, as well.

While they ate, Prince Eric continued to talk, often with his mouth full, a lapse in manners that normally would have horrified her mother. But no, a quick glance at the queen showed her mother pretended to hang on Eric’s every word.

But by the time he got around to bragging about his talents with horsemanship, Queen Millicent’s patience had obviously frayed. Mouth a thin line, she sipped at her coffee and glowered at the young man.

Finally, her father, experienced at deflecting this sort of thing, deliberately shifted the conversation to include Tatiana and Willow. As King Puck went on about their prowess on horseback, Willow felt her eyes glaze over.

Chad, too, barely stifled a yawn.

After listening to this for a few minutes, Eric magnanimously decided they must all go riding after the meal.

Gazing at Chad, Tatiana smiled and breathlessly agreed.

Willow clenched her jaw and continued eating. Riding. On horses. Where she’d be expected to pretend to be gracious and magical and...Bright. Everything she was not. This would be another possibility for an epic disaster.

Though Willow didn’t demure, she had no intention of accompanying them. This was her perfect opportunity. While they were out riding, she’d have time to get to the veil and cross over to Teslinko. With any luck, she could find the missing magical earring and be back before anyone even noticed she’d been gone.

After all the plates had been cleared, everyone dispersed to get dressed in their riding gear. They had agreed to meet at the barn in half an hour. Rather than give an excuse and waste valuable time, Willow planned to simply not show up.

She had to hurry. Dutifully heading to her room, she rushed down the hallway with her heart pounding. She prayed no one—particularly Tatiana—would follow her. She needed a few minutes to change—into jeans rather than breeches—and then make her escape into the woods.

This one time, at least, she hoped her prayer was answered.

She took a deep breath. The meeting with the EastWard princes had rattled her more than she’d expected. Though Prince Chad seemed charming enough, something about him unsettled her. She suspected it was the possibility that they were a bit alike. Used to living unnoticed in the huge shadow cast by their perfect older sibling, like her, he was able to do many things unnoticed. Slipping underneath the family’s radar was a trick she’d perfected ever since she could walk. Chad most likely did the same. She had the feeling he saw way too much. For once Tatiana had been intuitive rather than self-absorbed.

A knock on her door startled her. Heart pounding, she opened it. Chad.

“I didn’t want to go riding, either,” he said, flashing an easy smile. “How about we go for a walk and get to know each other?”

Stars. Her plans not so secret anymore, she said the first thing that came to mind, which happened to be the truth. “I can’t. I’ve lost one of my mother’s earrings and I’ve got to find it. Once I do, I’ll come looking for you, all right?”

To her relief, he dipped his head in a nod and left her alone. She closed her door and locked it, willing her rapid heart rate to slow.

After changing into jeans and boots, feeling much calmer, she went to her window and, grasping the trellis that she’d had installed a few years ago as an escape route, climbed down the outside wall. She looked both to the left and the right and seeing no one, she hurried away and slipped into the woods. Her woods.

The moment the shadowy forest enveloped her, all the tension left her. The scent of damp earth and leaves, pine and oak filled her senses. The dappled sunlight felt welcoming and warm. Here, she felt at home as she did nowhere else. She rolled her shoulders, breathing deeply, her footsteps quiet on the cushion of leaves.

Nearby she sensed several of the numerous forest creatures she’d befriended, but she didn’t call them to her as she usually did. Time was of the essence today. She had to get to Teslinko, find the missing magical earring and return to SouthWard before anyone noticed she was missing.

With this in mind, she hurried toward the veil. Once she thought she had heard footsteps behind her, but when she had slipped behind a tree to listen and watch, there was no one.

Because it never hurt to be careful, she picked up her pace. Dead leaves crackled underfoot as she hurried toward the portal.

Jogging, then sprinting, she found herself breathless by the time the shimmering power of the veil made itself known. She felt it long before she finally saw it, but once she did, she leaped forward, leaving her home the same way she’d returned, as though a demon from hell was on her heels.

Only this time, one actually was.

* * *

Prince Chad of EastWard couldn’t decide whether to be amused or angry that the SouthWard royalty had thought to marry him off to their youngest daughter. Obviously, Willow wasn’t of pure royal blood, not looking like that.

Again, he grimaced. Not that Willow was ugly. Quite the opposite, in fact. She was just...different. Both her parents had the standard Bright appearance—blond hair, violet eyes and pale skin. Like all the SouthWard and EastWard people. The Bright. Boring, but the epitome of both feminine and masculine beauty, as far as he was concerned.

No, Willow looked more like the Shadows. The people of the north and west—the Shadows—were completely different in their appearance. They were the polar opposite of the Bright. With her dark hair and dusky skin, Willow easily must have come from either NorthWard or WestWard. She was the quite obvious by-blow of some Shadow lover.

Which meant the rumors were true. For years, it had been whispered that Queen Millicent had strayed with one of the Shadow princes. Willow obviously was the result of that union. Evidently King Puck hadn’t wanted to risk humiliation and had accepted her as his own.

Furious, Chad clenched his jaw. As second son, he was always given second best. Once again, as eldest, Eric would get the most beautiful daughter. The bastard one, who was rumored to have weak magic as well, would be foisted off on Chad.

Like that would ever happen. Though he grudgingly admitted Willow had her own exotic beauty, he could never marry a woman who looked like that. There were his future offspring to consider. His children. Mating with her would risk tainting his bloodline.

Acknowledging this, he realized something else. She intrigued him. Something about her innocent sensuality appealed to his bloodthirsty nature.

While he couldn’t marry her, he still wanted her. He’d freely admit that Willow of the SouthWard fascinated him, unlike her sister who—like his brother, Eric—had absolutely no secrets. Willow moved with an unconsciously sensual grace, and the slight tilt of her almond eyes was alluring. Her lush mouth gave her an earthy sexual appeal.

Though he knew she wasn’t aware of it, Willow had passion simmering underneath her complacent, dusky beauty. Chad thought he might just be the one to awaken that in her, even if he had to use honeyed lies and false caresses.

He wouldn’t marry her, but he would have her. Of that he was determined. His brother Prince Eric might be showy, but Chad always got what he wanted, no matter how underhanded the methods he had to use to obtain it.

Always.

His initial fury subsided. This entire situation had actually surprised him, not an easy feat these days. When the marriage between Eric and the spectacularly lovely Tatiana had been arranged, the SouthWard royal couple had wanted to throw their youngest daughter into the bargain. Chad had thought it a bit odd, but what the hell. Eric was expected to marry and produce an heir. It would be to Chad’s advantage to do the same, just in case something happened to his elder brother. And you never know, he thought wickedly. Something just might.

An earring, eh? Even better, a magical earring belonging to Queen Millicent. Who knew what impressive powers the piece of jewelry might contain? Willow might have lost it, but if he could find it before her...

Whistling under his breath, he’d rounded the back corner of the palace just in time to see the Princess Willow climbing down a trellis and taking off into the woods. Alone, acting as if she had feared being caught.

Chad hadn’t even stopped to think. Intrigued, he’d followed her, intent on learning her destination without her discovering his pursuit. No doubt she went in search of the earring.

Adrenaline fueled him as he rushed through the forest, taking care not to let his quarry catch a glimpse of him. Amazed that he’d discovered a new way to get his heart pumping without drawing blood and causing pain, he grinned.

He pushed the thought away, continued his pursuit, going from tree to tree, using the underbrush as cover. She was easy to track as she took no care to hide her presence, clearly believing no one would ever attempt to follow her.

Even as she hurried through the forest, there was something sensual about her. As if this was where she belonged, he thought with a startling flash of clarity.

The idea nearly made him stumble. More than any of the other Brights, he’d studied many of the types of beings in the human realm. There were the Shape-shifters that called themselves Pack, and then Vampires, Mer-people, Warlocks, Wizards, Witches, Tearlachs and those that were a various combination of these.

Many had their own powers, but none of them had the inherent magical abilities that his people, the Bright, and the others of his kind, the Shadows, had. Each form of magic was different. The Brights controlled the elements of air and of fire, while the Shadows had earth and water.

Except for Willow, who was rumored to have no magic at all.

When she had stopped, he had ducked behind a tree. He felt the shift in the air, raising the fine hair on his arms, and frowned. What the...? The feel of magic crawled along his skin. Magic. What was she doing? Peering out at her, he realized the magic wasn’t emanating from her slight figure. Then where?

Now he concentrated. Using his inherent magical ability, he sensed the gate long before he realized what it was, slipping out from behind a tree just long enough to see Willow hurl herself into the shimmering space and vanish.

His heartbeat kicked into overdrive. A portal. Shades of fire, could things get any more interesting? He thought not. Now to see what lay on the other side.

Striding forward, he stepped into the veil and let the magic take him where it may.





Karen Whiddon's books