Chapter 41

Lola woke up in the middle of the night gasping, sweating, and with her entire body flush with fear. Nightmares she already couldn’t remember all that well drifted through her mind like spider silk on the wind. She was glad the nightmares were indistinct and were already being forgotten. Judging by the way she was breathing heavily, her skin soaked with sweat, and her fear making her blood run icy cold, she was sure she didn’t want to remember them anyway.

She looked over at Russel and found him still sleeping. He barely moved and she would’ve been terrified something was wrong but she heard soft snoring. He was so still, even the steady rising and falling of his chest was barely perceptible. Without the sounds of his snores, she might have completely freaked out.

Reassured that he was okay, more than okay really considering most of the damage done by his father had fully healed now, she got out of the bed and walked over to the fireplace. The logs were a dim, sullen red color. The fire had long since gone out which could also be said of the torches on the walls. It made the room almost pitch black. At first, she couldn't see anything at all but as her eyes adjusted a little, the room started to slowly gain some definition.

Her body felt exhausted beyond belief from all the stress and the traveling they’d done but despite wanting to go back to sleep, she found she couldn’t. There was too much going on inside her head and she was scared the nightmares that woke her would come back. Instead of getting back in bed with Russel, she decided to take a walk. It was the only thing she could think of that might make her tired enough for her brain to shut down.

She remembered seeing an elaborately carved wardrobe in the bathroom so she went inside to check it out, hoping to find something she might be able to use to ward off the night’s chill. Once she opened the doors, she realized how much of a mistake that had been. She forgot that werewolves, in addition to having the ability to grow fur, were naturally warm and didn't need thick cloaks or outerwear to protect them from cold. Undeterred, she kept up her search until finally, buried underneath some spare blankets, she found an old cloak that must have belonged to Russel’s father. She put it on and suppressed a weird desire to giggle. The thing was comically large on her and practically swallowed her whole but it would get the job done at least.

She walked back into the main bedroom, leaned down toward Russel’s sleeping form, and gave him a very small kiss on his forehead. He moved a little, but didn’t wake up.

“Rest,” she whispered quietly. “And heal.”

She turned from the bed and walked through his room to the front door. She hesitated there for a moment, wondering if she would get in trouble for walking out alone.

Just outside, standing at attention was a lone guard with a grim, serious look on his face. He kept an eye on the hallway in both directions as well as the door to the new king’s rooms. As soon as the door started to creak and he realized it was about to open, he made sure to stand more firmly and lose any traces of sleepiness he might’ve been feeling.

The door started to open and he wondered if it was King Russel coming out. A few seconds later, however, the person stood there and he realized it wasn’t him. It was just a woman. A woman in a cloak about five or six times bigger than her. Who was she? A concubine? Someone from a pleasure house maybe?

He had no idea. The woman wasn’t remotely familiar and because his shift had started well after the Blood Challenge ended, he hadn’t heard anything about Lola and had no clue the new king had a human woman with him. He knew of the challenge, of course, and its results. That bit of news had circulated throughout the whole kingdom. What he hadn’t been aware of, to his detriment, was the fact that their new king had a human woman with him. A woman that he had fought to save the life of on numerous occasions, and had even fought and won a Blood Challenge against his father for, all so he could make sure she wasn’t killed. If he had known all of those things, he might’ve demanded she stay with the king instead of leaving.

But he didn’t know and so he let Lola leave.

“Would you like an escort, Miss?” he asked, trying to be polite. Even though he didn’t know who she was and thought she was a prostitute, he still didn’t think it wise for her to be roaming around in the middle of the night.

Lola paused and looked at him for a moment, contemplating.

“Uh, no. That’s all right. I’ll be fine,” she told him. She pointed down the hall on either side of her. “I would, however, like to know which way would be best to get some fresh air?”

The guard nodded and smiled at her. For a whore, she was really quite stunning, he thought to himself. He made a mental note to check the pleasure houses for her at a later date. She looked like she would make for one hell of a good time.

“You’ll want to head toward the left, all the way to the end of the hall. Turn right at the end and head across the open area to the staircase. Take that down to the next level, then take another right and you’ll eventually come to the castle’s grand staircase. Take that down to the door and you’ll be able to make your way outside. You know your way from there?” He gave her a longing look, hoping in the back of his mind she might reconsider and ask for an escort. He shouldn't leave his post, true, but if the damsel needed the help of a strong protector, he thought the potential rewards would more than makeup for any rebuke the new king might hit him with.

“No, but thank you,” she said.

She eventually left the guard behind and followed the directions he gave her. In just a few minutes, she traversed her way through the castle and to its front door. There were more guards present but they clearly didn’t know who she was either and let her walk out unmolested. When she was finally outside, she took a deep, satisfying breath of crisp, wintry air. It made her feel much better and the nightmares that woke her up retreated to the back of her mind.

She wasn’t sure where she was going to go but decided to just walk around for a bit until she found a nice spot to just sit and reflect. Ten minutes later, she found herself in a quaint little park still within eyesight of Russel’s family castle.

She was alone. It was so late at night, the only people around were soldiers or guards. All of them paid no attention to her. After getting to the small park, she found a stone bench to sit on near a placid, gleaming pond. The waters were so still, she could see the moon and stars reflected on its surface.

Once situated, she sat there and breathed in and out. Tears sprang to her eyes and she looked up at the sky, trying hard not to let her grief completely overwhelm her. Now that she actually had time to just breathe without worrying about being killed or hunted down, she thought about her parents. And her friends.

She reached up and brushed the tears from her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she stared deeply into the pond. “Forgive me for getting you all killed.”

That’s when she felt it again.

The chill racing down her spine.

At the same time, a runner made his way past the guards and into the main castle. He bore a rolled-up parchment sealed with a wax seal tucked firmly away in a carrier pouch slung on his left hip. The guards escorted him inside as soon as he arrived and guided him to a room to wait until they could get Russel. He sat in there for at least forty minutes, maybe a little bit more, before someone finally came in. It wasn’t the king, but one of his brothers.

Prince Roland.

He had on a robe and clearly looked as if he had just woken up.

“What is all this?” Roland asked.

The runner stood up and saluted out of respect.

“Sire,” he said, bowing as well. “Apologies but my orders are to speak directly to King Russel. I will wait until he can be brought here.”

Roland’s eyes narrowed. “What is your name, scout?”

“Uh…Corporal Stenson, Sire.”

“Give me the missive before I have you demoted so lowly, cleaning latrines would be a step up. Am I understood, Corporal Stenson?”

Roland held out a hand and waited, his eyes boring into the young scout. It was clear the poor soldier was getting more and more nervous by the second. He had no idea what to do. His orders were clear. Only give the message to the king.

But this was the prince.

“Do not make me ask you again,” Roland told him, his eyes flashing with amber fire.

Corporal Stenson opened his pack and pulled out the rolled parchment with the seal on it. He was about to hand it over when the door to the room opened and King Russel came inside. He was dressed in a thin shirt and pants.

“Thank you, brother,” Russel said, ignoring the hateful glare from Roland. “You are dismissed.”

“I..” Roland tried to say.

Russel didn’t give him a chance.

“I said dismissed. Go. Now,” he ordered.

Russel didn’t back down from his older brother’s hateful, narrowed glare. Eventually, Roland backed down and left the room. Once he did, Russel turned to the scout.

“Thank you, Corporal,” Russel said, looking at the soldier’s stripes on his uniform coat. “I’ll take that now. Is there anything verbal you were ordered to convey? Or just the missive?”

“Just the missive, Your Majesty,” Stenson told him. He handed the parchment to the king and he took it.

“You are dismissed then. Go to the barracks and get some rest. In the morning, you are free to return to your company,” Russel said.

Stenson saluted and bowed, then left the room. As soon as he did, Russel broke the seal on the parchment and read it. He scanned over the contents and when he was finished, anger flared up inside him.

The last two lines stuck in his mind.

Humans amassing at the borders with Alcroft.

Harvenk spies found in Oclan. Two dead. One got away.