Chapter Seven

“What did you say?”

Jourick’s voice rose as he reared back in disbelief, staring at the naked back of the woman.

“I am with child, Lukas.” She rolled over, grabbing the heavy coverlet and pulling a corner of it over herself, feeling absurdly naked despite what had just happened between them.

“Whose, Danielle? Whose child is it?” He reached out and grabbed her chin in his hand, his fingers rough upon the soft skin of her face.

“Lukas, you are hurting me.” Danielle reached up, trying to push his bruising fingers off her face. “It’s your child, Lukas, conceived in the glade the morning after the wolf came to my rescue. Do you tell me you do not remember that morn?”

Jourick let go of her face, sliding off the bed to grab his breeches and pull them on. He hadn’t expected this hitch in his plans. How could he have?

Tying the front of the breeches into place, he started pacing, his hands sliding through the long strands of black hair that covered his finely sculpted head. It wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t be his baby even though the body that conceived it was the same. There was only one thing to be done.

The unborn baby, though still a mere speck, would have to be gotten rid of.

He had the formula to brew the portion to do the deed. It would be but the matter of making it. Jourick thought of the trunk in his chambers, the trunk that held all his herbs and potions. A magical spell of his own contrivance kept it locked to any but the one who knew the words to speak. But that chest was with his old body now. Still, the potion was a simple one, and the necessary herbs could be found in the kitchens below.

Still pacing thoughtfully on the long floorboards, he ignored the girl in the bed who sat up and gazed at him in confusion. Her deep blue eyes narrowed as she stared at the way he moved, not with the same sleek stalking stride that she always associated with Lukas. He moved as if used to shorter strides, holding himself stiffly as if guarding against something, as if somehow unused to the body he inhabited.

What was she thinking? How could this be anyone but her husband?

She stared at the dark blue stone he had wrapped in his hand, the red flaw in its centre pulsing like a bloodied eye. It scared her, this change of mannerisms and the fact that he wore his father’s amulet. What did it mean?

Danielle clutched the coverlet tighter to her naked form as Lukas suddenly turned, staring at her as if just remembering she was there. A smile spread upon his handsome face, but it didn’t reach his eyes nor did it fill her with the same feeling of happiness it usually did. For some reason, that smile seemed dark and disturbed, evil in intent.

“Lukas?” she asked, concerned and uneasy.

He came back to the bed, sinking down upon the side and taking her hands in both of his, his eyes dropping to her naked breasts as the coverlet fell away. “Yes, my love?”

“You are not pleased?” She felt a sudden spurt of renewed desire at the way he now looked at her and, for a reason that she could not fathom, felt disgusted with herself for it.

“Pleased with you?” he asked. “How could I not be pleased with you, my love?” He held both her hands in one of his large ones, his other hand slipping over the curve of her breast, holding it upon his palm as if measuring its weight. He smiled again when that nipple tightened. His thumb rubbed over it, as if petting it like he would a treasured beast.

“No, Lukas, about the baby? Are you not pleased that we will be parents?” She gasped as his hand tightened upon her breast, hurting her with his grasp.

When Danielle pulled slightly away from him, Jourick realized his mistake and lightened his grip, once more brushing his thumb over her responsive nipple, enjoying the way she quivered at his touch. “Of course, I am, my love. How could I not be pleased? I had but hoped that the baby would be conceived when we were wed.” He dropped his hand, ignoring the new throbbing in his groin, a response that he hadn’t had twice in one night in too many years to recall.

“So you are? Pleased, I mean,” she said, angered at herself for the tremor of disappointment that shivered through her when he stopped touching her.

“I am, my love. Now lie back. I must go down and gather some wine so that we might celebrate. No,” he said suddenly, as if an afterthought. “No wine for my wife. Tea would be much better. I will have the cook brew up something fresh for you, love.”

Jourick rose and grabbed the white shirt from where he’d thrown it, pulling the wrinkled material over his head and leaving out the tails. “I expect you to be right here when I return, Danielle, so that we may celebrate this wonderful news the correct way.” He cocked one brow, leaving Danielle to know just how he expected to celebrate.

She tried to smile through her confusion, willing Lukas to leave the room and give her some time to collect her thoughts. He leaned down, wrapping his hand in her hair and using it to pull her up to his mouth. His lips took hers, his kiss dominating, his tongue thrusting between her lips to quickly taste her mouth before he dropped her back down on the bed and left the room.

* * * *

The black wolf jumped back, blocking the she-wolf who stopped quickly before running into him. His head lifted, and his eyes glowed with a jade-green fire, a low growl growing in his chest as he stared at the man who had just left the room. His muscles bunched in his legs as he crouched, readying himself to spring.

Teeth grabbed his neck, stopping him before he could attack the man who’d stolen his body. He turned, pulling away from the sharp fangs, his large paw swatting at her, and his teeth going to the she-wolf’s throat. She lay back where he’d knocked her, compliant under him, a whine coming from between pulled-back lips.

He growled more loudly, his teeth shaking as he fought the urge to snap them down upon her for what she’d just done. He backed away then turned to look again at the man who had now disappeared down the long hallway.

He raised his head, scenting the air, the smell of sex penetrating the thin veneer of civilization he’d been working hard to maintain against the call of the wolf. A shaft of rage split through him as he thought of his young bride, her body twisted in passionate desire under the body of his father.

But she wouldn’t have been, Lukas thought, trying to fight the rage he felt. She would have been under his body, taking pleasure from her husband. How could she know the difference?

He rushed forward, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the cold, slippery surface of the marble floors. At his chamber door, he jumped up against it, his claws scratching into the hard surface of the wood.

Whining almost silently, he urged Danielle with his thoughts to open the door, to let him into the room. He needed to see her, needed to talk to her. He jumped down when he heard the click of the bolt being pulled and got ready to burst through the entrance.

* * * *

Danielle had risen from the bed, securely wrapping the coverlet around her naked body. She needed to wash herself and hurried over to the pitcher and basin that sat on a stand in the corner. Dropping the coverlet to the floor, she tried to remove his traces from her body, not feeling better until the cloth had wiped and scrubbed every inch of her slender frame.

Shivering in the cool air surrounding her damp body, she tried to understand the disgust and horror she felt with her reactions to her husband and his caresses. He hadn’t made her feel this way in the glade or in the coach. His kisses had always brought her pleasure and made her yearn for more, but they had been gentler, sweeter, and without the distinct unease that she felt now when Lukas kissed her.

A scratching at the door startled her, and she reached for the coverlet, pulling it around her cold body. With trembling fingers, she reached for the latch, pulling it up.

The black wolf burst through the door, the white she-wolf Danielle had occasionally seen in the castle following quickly behind him. The big male turned, pushing against the door to close it as Danielle jumped back, a startled shriek caught in her throat, her hand grasping the small wooden brush that was the first thing she came into contact with. She brandished it in front of her as the white wolf bared its long ivory fangs.

The white wolf was stopped when the black wolf nipped its rear quarter, and Danielle watched in amazement as the she-wolf bowed her head, stepping backwards and away, obeying submissively the big black brute.

The wolf advanced towards Danielle, small whines coming from his mouth, his eerie green eyes fixed on Danielle’s blue ones. She stood her ground, though her knees trembled, and she didn’t lower the brush that was her only weapon.

“Lukas?” she breathed, not entirely sure why she said his name.

The wolf raised its muzzle, a short series of yips erupting when she spoke. He seemed to smile and, Danielle thought, looked relieved.

When the wolf was within arm’s length, she found herself suddenly unafraid. This was the same wolf from the forest, the same wolf who had come to her rescue and who had called to her from the edge of the woodland. She sank down on the cold floor, the coverlet billowing around her, and reached one trembling hand towards the huge beast.

He came to her like a trained and beloved pet, nuzzling his face into her throat, letting her wrap her arms around his neck. His sensitive nose picked up the scent of her, clean and sweet, but under it was the other, the scent of man.

Even though it was his own body that he smelled on her, the scent was different, ominous and dark, heavy with a bitterness that he could almost taste. He wanted to roll against her, rid her of that scent and leave his own upon her.

He pulled away, going over to a clear expanse of floor and lying down. With a heavy shudder, he relaxed against the cool floor, feeling the wolf presence melt into itself, his limbs lengthening into arms and legs, the fur retracting back into his flesh. A subtle crackle of bone, a short moan as the pain struck him, then he was once more a man.

Danielle jumped up, grabbing the coverlet more securely around her body. “Lord Jourick!” She threw herself back on the mattress, scrabbling up against the headboard as the nude man rose, slowly and painfully, from the floor. Danielle averted her eyes from his naked form, closing them and hiding her face as she tried to take in what she’d just witnessed.

“Danielle, please look at me.”

She felt the bed dip next to her hip and tried to scurry back further, but he was sitting on her covering.

“I’m Lukas, Danielle. Please. Look at me.” Lukas was ready to beg, just to get her to recognize him for who he was.

She opened her eyes, staring into the wrinkled face with its long flowing beard. His pale blue eyes were so close, she couldn’t help but look into them.

A strange sensation tingled in her brain, a recognition that went beyond what was readily seen. She reached out with one hand, touching the thin, almost brittle skin of his cheek. “Lukas? But you were the wolf? It cannot be. How would this be possible?”

“My father, Danielle, he is the one responsible for this. He is responsible for changing our bodies and for turning me into a wolf many years past. It’s the amulet he wears around his neck. It holds some kind of dark magics, a source of pure evil. He found it, and it turned him from a loving parent and devoted lord into the malevolent wizard that we’ve both been privy to.”

Lukas felt a strange push-pull of emotions. He was elated that Danielle believed in him. But terrified by what his father was to do next. And he was furious that the wizard, in Lukas’s body, had bedded his Danielle.

“So that is why he acted so strangely when I told him,” Danielle said quietly.

“Told him what?”

Danielle gently kissed the withered lips of the man she loved. “I told him that come this next sowing season, I shall make you a father.”

Lukas stared down at her, joy leaping fiercely in his heart, seen clearly in the pale blue of Jourick’s eyes. “It is true?” he asked. At her nod, he pulled her into his embrace, holding her as tightly as his ancient arms could. Pushing her back, he kissed her.

“But what are we to do, Lukas? How can we change you back?”

“What did my father do when you told him of the baby, Danielle?”

“He acted very strangely, almost as if he were upset by the proof of our love. One moment he was pacing, then the very next, he said that he’d bring wine so that we might celebrate this gift.” She tipped her head to the side slightly. “Then he decided I needed tea. He is brewing a fresh pot as we speak.”

“You must not drink it,” Lukas almost shouted, grabbing her arms and holding her so that he could look down at her. “Promise me you won’t drink it. Knowing my father, there is some kind of potion in the tea.”

“Potion? But why would he wish to give me a potion, Lukas?” Danielle could feel his fingers digging into her upper arms and placed one soothing hand upon his sagging chest.

Lukas gentled his touch. “I’m not sure, my love. It could be anything. Just promise me you won’t drink whatever he brings you. Throw it out, drop the cup, whatever you have to do to keep from drinking it.” He lowered his forehead until it touched hers, closing his eyes as weariness and pain, no longer held in check by the wolf, seemed to swallow him whole. “We have to find out how to reverse this spell so we can switch back the bodies. I can’t fight my father like this.”

“But why, Lukas? Why would he do something like this to you? You’re his son, his flesh and blood.”

Lukas shivered in the coolness of the room and shifted until she could wrap part of the coverlet around his thin shoulders. He accepted it, feeling her naked body come to rest against his chest. Her full breasts, the nipples rosy and taut in the cool air, pressed into his skin, distracting his thoughts.

“Why did he change me to the wolf before, Danielle? Why did he welcome me with open arms? Why has he done any of the things he has in the past few days?” His hand came up, and he cupped one firm globe, her nipple pressing into his palm.

Danielle moaned, feeling the gentle touch of her husband even in the twisted and swollen fingers of the body that he now inhabited. “It is hard to think when you do such things to me, husband.”

“I want to make love with you, Danielle.” Lukas squeezed gently, his lips finding the smooth warm curve of her shoulder, his tongue coming out to taste her sweet flesh.

Danielle closed her eyes, seeing him in his true form in her mind’s eye. She felt desire, more powerful than what she’d experienced earlier, singing sweetly in her veins. The scent of him was slightly strange, a mixture of Lukas and Jourick, youth and age. He carried inside himself a wildness that called to the same trait inside of her, something that the man she’d just bedded hadn’t been able to do.

“I wish,” he muttered, his lips sinking onto hers for one short intimate moment. “I wish,” he said again, looking at the beautiful face of his one true mate, “that we had time for this right now. But my father will be back soon.”

“What am I to do, Lukas?” Danielle couldn’t think of sleeping with the falseness inside of the body of her husband. It was repugnant to say the least.

“I will kill him,” Lukas said, reaching for the sword that rested on the dressing table. “I will run him through with my blade and hope that our essences will change back as soon as he is dead.”

“You can’t, Lukas. If you run through your real body, you will die, not him. It is too risky without knowing the consequences.” She grabbed his hand, holding it gently between hers. “I love you too much to be left without you.”

Lukas slammed the sword back down on the table, causing everything sitting on it to jump and shudder. He felt a strange lurch in his chest and rubbed against it, taking a deep breath. “But somehow, he has to die. I can’t let you stay here with him.

“No, we will figure it out, my love,” Danielle said, slowly stroking Lukas’s jaw and the long beard that hung there. “Now you must go. You must leave me here, Lukas. There is no other choice. You have to change back to the beast and leave the way you came.”

His arms tighten around her, and his chest rose heavily with a long sigh as he tried to gather himself.

“Go,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. “Just go. I will handle your father.”

He stood after kissing her full lips one last time, going to the same space on the floor and curling into a ball. He lay there, gathering thought, letting himself feel the rage that wanted to consume him. The first heated pain caught him by surprise, and he grunted, his limbs twitching as his body changed. His spine ached and twisted, his body sprouted the thick fur that protected his skin. Within moments, he was before her, again in the shape of the wolf.

Danielle sank gracefully to the floor, hugging the black beast around the throat and dampening his fur with her tears. She’d lost him once out of her own fears and had thought she’d found nirvana when he’d come for her. Now she stood the chance of losing him again, this time to the evil forces of his father.

Lukas whined softly, crooning to her in his own wolfish way. Then he pulled away, going to the door and waiting until Danielle opened it. He scented the air then stepped into the hallway, stopping to give a few short, yipping orders to the white wolf, which turned and crawled under the large bed.

Danielle watched him for a moment, then hearing footsteps upon the hard marble treads of the stairs, she closed the door as quietly as she could and hurried back to the bed. Her hands shook as she picked up the wooden brush and pulled it through her mussed golden tresses.

Jourick opened the door, a tray balanced carefully upon his hand. It held a small clay pot in the shape of the hinterbeast, its snarling mouth the spout and its long thick tail used as a handle. There was a small cup, and a glass of rich blue wine, flavored by tiny berries that grew wild in the forest.

He smiled at the picture she made, curled into the middle of his bed, the coverlet at her waist, as she reached up with the brush to pull it through her tresses in long strokes so that it fell over her breasts. Her hair gleamed like silk in the light of the candles, her skin rosy and flushed, her pink nipples peeking from between the thick locks of hair. Her breasts seemed almost too large for her willowy frame, giving them an even sexier appeal to a man who’d been forced to bed the older and heavier widows. All of them had been short and squat, with heavy features and thick eyebrows that seemed to almost meet above the eyes.

None held the slim beauty of this girl or could come close to her responsiveness in his bed. His groin tingled and came to life, his cock becoming engorged as blood rushed to it. She’d been such a fiery thing in his arms. It would be a shame to have to wait the few days before it was safe enough to mate with her again, since once she drank the potion in the tea, it would destroy the tissue that clung to life inside her womb.

But wait he would.

“Here, my love. Your tea is served. Drink it while it is still warm, and I’ll brush your hair for you.” Jourick set down the tray and handed Danielle the cup he’d prepared, the cup that he’d treated with the spell, reciting the incantation as he rubbed the herbs slowly over the smooth surface. He wanted this unpleasantness done with. He wanted her empty, her womb preparing itself for his seed not that of his son. He settled himself behind her, picking up the brush from where she’d dropped it on the soft coverlet. Taking her hair in his strong hands, he drew it from in front of her, letting it slide like a silky waterfall down her back, the shades of gold and blonde shimmering in the light of the candles and torches that lit the room.

Following the strokes of the brush with his hand to smooth out the static that made the tresses cling to him as if alive, he took his time, enjoying the task at hand. He didn’t speak until he noted that she wasn’t drinking the tea he’d prepared.

“Danielle, is something wrong with the tea? I brewed it personally and used herbs I knew would be good for our child and for you.”

“No, nothing is wrong. I’m just not thirsty.” Danielle tried to put the cup back down on the bed, but Jourick put his hand under hers, guiding the cup to her mouth.

It would only take a few sips of the brew to do the deed. The first of the debilitating cramps that would force the fetus from her womb would strike within an hour. She would begin to bleed, and it would all be over within one sun’s rising. He would be the supportive and concerned husband, showering her with love and care, waiting upon her hand and foot.

He almost grinned as he thought how grateful she would be for his nursing abilities.

The rim of the cup was at her lips. Danielle pushed against his hand, fighting his strength as she also fought to keep her mouth closed. She felt the warm brew against her lips and knew it would be but a moment more before he successfully forced her to drink.

* * * *

Lukas prowled the corridors of the old castle, jumping into shadowed nooks and empty doorways whenever he scented anyone coming. He searched for one man, and he lifted his muzzle into the air, drawing deeply of the many scents that permeated each corridor.

Finally reaching the servants’ quarters which were located at the back of the castle, just above the staircase that led to the dungeons, Lukas stopped at a familiar door. He snuffled under the thin crack at the bottom of the wood, scenting the man he was desperate to see. With a loud whine, he scratched furiously at the door, feeling the wood tear under his thick, strong nails.

Jasper lifted his head from the sewing he was doing for the lord, a task that Lord Jourick wouldn’t trust with anyone but him. There was a sound at the door, a familiar scratching he hadn’t heard in so many years that now he wasn’t sure he trusted his tired old ears.

Laying aside the thin silk he was trying to repair, he rose with an aged creaking of his bones and crossed the carpeted flooring. Putting his hand upon the latch, he waited but a moment until he heard the scratching then a loud whine.

He barely had the latch lifted before a large black wolf sprang against the heavy wood, pushing open the door. The wolf jumped into the room, turning to face the old man who stared at him with shocked recognition, though he hadn’t seen the wolf since he’d watched Lord Jourick perform the curse some ten years before.

“Lord Lukas?” Jasper asked the black wolf, as if expecting an answer.

Lukas yipped and curled onto the rug, relaxing and willing the change one more time. When he stood, once more in Jourick’s body, he watched the old man in front of him sway in shock.

“Lord Jourick? But the wolf, how—” Jasper’s voice cut off, his hand going to his chest as the shock overwhelmed him.

Lukas reached the man as he swayed and helped him to his chair in front of the warm fire, reaching for a small chalice of wine and helping him take a sip. The color returned to Jasper’s face even as he continued to stare at the old lord sitting nude next to him.

“Jasper, my father has cursed me once more, this time taking my body and giving me his.” Lukas laid his hand upon the old man’s shoulder.

“Lord Jourick, that act just isn’t possible, sir. You shouldn’t pull these kinds of pranks on an old friend.”

Lukas dropped his head into his hands, feeling a kind of desperation he hadn’t even felt when compelled to leave his home so many years before. He couldn’t help but wonder what Danielle faced now, if she was being raped by his father, hurt when Lukas couldn’t help her.

He felt a hand upon his arm and looked up, tears blurring his vision.

“Lukas? That wolf was you. I’d know those eerie eyes of yours anywhere.” Jasper sat forward, looking into the pale blue eyes of the man he’d served all his life, a man he’d once considered more friend than master until the day he’d found that cursed stone.

“Yes, Jasper. My father stole my body, and even now, he’s with my wife.” His old, bent fingers twisted into a fist in his fury. “She’s pregnant, Jasper. Danielle is going to have my child unless my father tries to rid her of it.”

“We won’t let that happen, Lukas. Come,” he said, reaching for a robe to cover the man’s naked body. “We need to find the book.”

* * * *

A low growl sounded, and a blur of white jumped onto the bed, slamming into the two sitting there and knocking the cup out of their hands. The cup bounced, spilling the liquid, then fell to the floor and shattered into small shards of pottery.

Danielle gave a startled gasp, staring at the huge white wolf who had just saved her baby’s life. She heard Jourick’s curses as he rose from the bed, pulling off the white shirt, now stained with the tea he’d fixed. He whipped it at the white wolf, which snarled once then again scurried under the bed.

Jourick lifted the skirting, wanting to vent his rage at the wolf, his anger building until he felt Danielle’s soft hand upon his shoulder.

“No, Lukas, don’t hurt her. She’s just an animal and didn’t know what she did. I’m not hurt, and the cup was just baked clay.” Danielle found herself shrinking back into the bed as he lifted his head, his eyes glowing with his rage, the pendant at his neck pulsing red fire.

“Do you dare tell me what to do, wife?” he asked harshly.

She saw the blow coming but was helpless to stop it as he struck her cheek, knocking her back against the headboard. He stood over her, his fists clenched, his chest rising with his agitated breathing. Danielle felt fear unlike any she’d felt before, not even when she’d been trapped in the glade with the three men bent upon stealing her virtue. She saw malevolent evil in his eyes, a madness that grew as the stone fed his ire.

Her hand to her cheek, she cowered before him.

The sight of her naked, her body trembling in fear of him, her eyes huge, calmed him some. Power still raged through his body, making him feel almost invincible. He reached down, grabbing her feet easily though she tried to kick out at him and dragged her towards himself. Her thighs were spread, and the soft pink color of her nether lips, damp and tempting, fed his lust. He dropped to his knees, burying his mouth there, sucking and licking, biting at her soft, wet flesh as if it alone could feed his hunger.

Danielle felt nothing but horror, no pleasure or lust, no enjoyment of the act that had been performed upon her but once before. She held a hand to her face, the other buried in the linens of the bed as she worked hard to not cry out her disgust at the way his tongue felt, thick and wet, like a strange kind of worm, as it worked into her woman’s channel. Tears streamed down her face, wetting her hair.

Jourick growled his lust into her flesh, burying himself in the sweetness of her. Her scent surrounded him, more powerful than any aphrodisiac, her taste more pleasing than the most tempting of wines. She grew wet for him even as she fought his touch and wanted to deny him this pleasure. The small knot of her desire grew, longer and harder, pushing out from under its thin covering to tempt his lips and tongue. He latched onto it, thrusting two long fingers into her.

Danielle’s head rocked against the bed in denial as a sudden burst of ecstasy shattered her, building and growing despite the disgust she felt. She bit into her hand, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her. His fingers slid so easily inside in her, wiggling against the muscles that tried to clench down on them, to force them out of her body. She cried out her shame when she came, her body convulsing around his fingers, streaks of sensation pulsing through her.

He was staring at her when she finally relaxed, a sardonic and evil grin upon his face which glistened from the wetness of her flesh. Standing, he untied his breeches as she watched, letting them drop to the floor, his cock as hard as a lance, jutting proudly before him.

Danielle covered her eyes with her arm, not wanting to see him, not wanting him to know how close she was to giving in and begging Jourick to take her, to punish her body with his. It wasn’t what she wanted, she wanted her Lukas. But it seemed to be what her body craved.

She felt him leaning over her, his hands wrapping her long legs around his hips as he prepared to mount her again. The head of his cock slipped along the wetness of her slit and nudged her still sensitive clit, causing her to shiver.

Jourick laughed, staring down at the body of the young girl under him. She was so beautiful, her hair tangled around her body that glistened with sweat from her recent spendings. Her skin was satiny smooth, her nipples taut with rosy areolas that seemed to beg for his lips. He reached up and moved her arm from her face, tipping her cheek until she faced him, waiting to move, despite the insistence of his new body, until she opened her eyes and stared up at him.

“Why do you fight me and yourself so much, Danielle? We both know what pleasure there is to be had between us, and how much your body responds to mine.”

The door burst open as Lukas, in Jourick’s body, a servant’s robe wrapped around his thin shoulders, rushed into the room. He stopped dead when he saw Danielle, her face contorted in pained pleasure, her eyes staring at him blindly, caught under Jourick in Lukas’s body. A feeling of rage, unlike anything he’d ever felt, settled into his stomach.

Jasper followed his young master into the room, his hand covering his mouth at the scene they had interrupted. He gasped, his eyes involuntarily going to the smooth pale body of Lukas’s wife. He quickly averted his gaze, his own personal sense of decency causing him shame that he had admired her slender beauty for even an instant.

Jourick pulled himself off Danielle, turning to face Lukas. He heard, more than saw, Danielle reach for the damp coverlet, wrapping it around her body in shame.

“Father,” Jourick said calmly. “You interrupt my,” he hesitated and then turned and looked at Danielle, holding out his hand towards her, “our wedding night. Sorry my love. Is something amiss?”

“Stop it, Father,” Lukas spat, staring at his body that housed his father’s evil soul. “We know what you did. We even know how you did it. I’m going to ask once that you reverse what you did and destroy both the stone and the book. If you do that, I’ll let you live. If not, father, one way or another, you will be dead.”

Jourick laughed, feeling the power in the smooth muscled lines of his body. “You think you can take me in that scrawny, pitiful body? Lukas,” he shook his head sadly, “you overestimate your own strength. I could snap you in two with one quick jerk of my hands.” He flexed his fists, showing off his power. “I should thank you though, for gifting me with such a wonderful body and such a beautiful and lusty bride. Should I have her tell you how many times I have brought her to pleasure thus far? Perhaps I should just tie you up and let you listen to her screams of ecstasy as I fuck her.” He tapped a finger against his chin as if in thought, smiling when her aroma drifted up to him.

Pale blue eyes, icy in rage, met jade green ones that shone with mocking humor. “If this is the way you wish it to be, father, then I have no other choice.” Lukas pulled a sword from the voluminous folds of the robe that covered him, holding the heavy weight of it in front of him. He knew he was no match for the strength of his true body and could only pray that Jasper would find the book and the reversal to the curse before Jourick could disarm him.

Jourick reached for his son’s sword sitting within easy reach. He slashed it through the air, the fine blade glittering in the candle light.

“Wish me well, wife,” he said with a smirk over his shoulder. “I promise not to hurt him too badly. ‘Tis hardly fair considering his age.”

Lukas moved away from the door, the sword raised in front of him, his stance loose and easy despite the pain that haunted his joints. He wanted his father distracted, giving Jasper time to find the book.

“You’ve been old a lot longer than I have, father. And when this is all over and done, and Danielle is once more in my arms, then we shall see who laughs and who finds himself in chains in the dungeons.”

The first clash of sword against sword sent a ringing through the room and brought the white wolf from her hiding place under the bed. She jumped onto the soft mattress, her eyes upon the fight, seeing the shadow wolf once more hiding in the body of the man. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as the men seemed to dance around the room, the older one’s movements slow and jerky while the younger moved with the smooth grace of a predator on the hunt.

She felt the human woman come to her, reaching out her hand and tangling it into the fur at her neck, her hand fisting as if she desperately needed something to hold on to. She let the woman lean her slight weight against her, as they both watched the one they loved losing the fight.

Jourick played with Lukas. Danielle could see it. He ignored many opportunities to strike the winning blow, refusing to injure the older man. He actually took a slice across the arm that struck deep when he could have blocked it and ended the fight.

Why?

Danielle’s mind flew, her agile brain flying over her questions that had no answers. All she knew was she had to do something. Her body was not her own with Jourick, she thought, shamed by its betrayal. It responded to his touch as if under some kind of spell, giving her pleasure despite her disgust.

Jasper hurried to the huge wardrobe at the side of the room, opening the door and shuffling through garments and boots, searching for the heavy tome that held the only possible chance of reversing the spell without more death and destruction brought to the noble family he served. With one eye, he kept sight of the dueling men, trying desperately to hurry and to stay out of their way as they traversed the length of the long room, steel sounding against steel as their blades met and crossed again and again.

Jourick twisted, easily sidestepping the feeble body his son inhabited, turned his wrist and slashed outward, sending Lukas’s sword clattering over the marble floor and out of reach of the older man. Danielle watched it go. She slipped off the other side of the bed and grabbed the almost too heavy length of steel, lifting it in both hands. Her coverlet slid off, revealing her pale body to the eyes of the men, but they weren’t paying attention. Jasper, his search interrupted by the sudden silence in the room, watched the two men, horror in his gaze.

She crept quietly towards the body of Jourick, her mind pleading with whatever gods listened that she was right. She begged her aim be true, that her love would be returned with one swift stroke of this sword. With a mad cry that shattered the silence in the room, she raised the sword and plunged it with all her strength into Jourick’s body, her blow finding the heart.

“Danielle?” Lukas gasped, unimaginable pain striking deep in his vitals. He stared, stunned, at the woman whose hands fell from the sword’s hilt as his falling body pulled it from her grasp. A strange coldness crept through him with insidious measure. Then he felt nothing.