The Wolf Prince

“Thank you.” Giving Tatiana’s hunched shoulders a hard squeeze, Millicent delivered the final shot. “After all, every dog will have its day. Don’t blow yours.”

“Wait, Mother.” Squirming out of the queen’s hold, Tatiana dashed over to Willow’s side. “Let me help her get ready. A little makeup will fix this.” She waved her perfectly manicured hand at her own face. “You know it’ll just take me a few minutes.”

“Fine.” Unable to refuse her eldest daughter anything, Queen Millicent nodded. “Just make sure you both are on time.” And with that, she left.

Tatiana sighed. “You don’t know what a burden it is being the eldest.”

It took every ounce of self-control Willow possessed to keep from rolling her eyes. “Try being the ugly duckling of the family.”

“No thanks.” The fact that Tatiana didn’t even bother trying to refute Willow’s words should have stung, but she supposed she was used to it.

“You have to make the best out of what you have.” Stalking over to the closet, Tatiana went through the day dresses. Finally, she pulled out one made of light blue watered silk, the sparkles interwoven into the fabric, which made them much less noticeable. The dress was dull by Bright standards, but Willow loved it. She hadn’t yet had an occasion to wear it.

“Whatever you do, don’t wear this one,” Tatiana ordered, tossing the gown on the floor as though it were garbage. “Wear something fun!”

She pulled out a hideous chiffon concoction of orange, hot pink and yellow, held it up and nodded. “This is perfect.” Tossing it at Willow, who miraculously caught it, she grinned. “See you in an hour.” Then she, too, swept from the room, slamming the door behind her.

The overpowering scent of heavy perfume lingered in the air.

Willow shook her head and tossed the frothy dress on her bed. She went to open the window and let in fresh air. Inhaling the smell of fresh pine, she gazed longingly at her beloved woods, missing the gentle creatures that lived there. They knew nothing of subterfuge and lies. They didn’t care that she didn’t look anything at all like a Bright was supposed to look. How she wished she could simply slip out of the castle unnoticed and escape to the forest.

Attempting to escape her life, that’s what she was doing. She’d done so many times already, running to the forest and lately, to the human world.

As she had when she’d danced with Prince Ruben.

The thought nearly made her smile. But, true to the way her luck seemed to go, even her one magical night was shattered by a bomb explosion. In the ensuing chaos, she’d tried to help as much as possible, escaping back to the veil at the last possible minute.

Home again. And now this. A meet-and-greet breakfast dressed in uncomfortable formal clothes. Already, the ball last night and the human prince who’d treated her as if she was beautiful felt like a dream, a fantasy.

With a heavy heart, Willow went to shower. When it came time to select something to wear, she chose the more discreetly elegant watered silk rather than the rainbow-colored chiffon. She could only imagine how Tatiana would roll her eyes when she saw that.

Willow sighed, bracing herself for the ordeal ahead. Even though she wanted no part of her sister’s secret plans, she knew she was about to walk smack-dab into the middle of them.

The next morning dawned with a leaden sky and the promise of rain whispering in the wind. The acrid scent of smoke and soot hung over everything, a constant reminder of the explosion and fire.

Heart heavy, Ruben accompanied his father, King Leo, in an inspection of the damage caused by the bomb. He’d gotten barely an hour of sleep, and most of that had been standing up when he took a quick, hot shower to cleanse the ash from his exhausted body.

The events of the previous night felt like a dream—meeting Willow, dancing and spending time with her. A promising dream that had been interrupted by a nightmare. He couldn’t believe the extremists were back. But who else would have done such a thing? Until he was given reason to think otherwise, he had to believe the extremists were behind the bombing. They always felt violence was the best way to prove a point.

Ruben didn’t understand this line of thought. Last time they’d set off bombs and had tried to harm his sister. The only thing they’d achieved had been jail sentences and widespread scorn and censure.

None of that had fazed them, he guessed. Because they’d regrouped and tried their foolish terroristic actions again. To what end? Ruben couldn’t see what they had hoped to gain by blowing up the palace. Did they even have a plan? Somehow he doubted it.

He suspected they were all crazy. What they wanted was impossible. They wanted Shape-shifters to be able to stay wolf longer than human. Even if such a thing were physically possible—which it was not—Ruben knew better than most how that could mess with one’s mind.

Pushing aside his thoughts, he walked with his father through the still smoldering rubble.

“We’re lucky no one was killed.” Grim faced, in the watery light King Leo looked older than his years. As he watched his normally jovial father shoulder the responsibility for the destruction, Ruben suppressed fury. The strong emotion stirred his wolf to instant alertness. The beast was spoiling for a fight.

He felt his father’s wolf respond in kind, which was unusual. Normally, both his parents’ beasts were sedate animals, content with their lot. Unless … Of course.

“How long has it been since you changed?” Ruben asked the king. Standing right next to each other, both their wolves could sense the other’s restlessness. As usual, at least lately, Ruben had difficulty keeping his under control. He watched as his father instantly subdued his own beast.

Ruefully, Leo smiled. “Quite a while, actually. I’ve been so busy. And now …” He spread his hands, visibly struggling with slipping control. “I don’t know when I’ll ever find the time.”

“You must,” Ruben began, stopping as he watched his father engage in a battle with his beast that felt both odd and eerily familiar. He’d encountered so many of these same battles himself recently.

The king’s inner wolf fought him, struggling to break out, to force a change. Since Ruben had never seen this happen with anyone beside himself, he watched helplessly.

“Sorry.” His father grimaced. “I’ve been fighting my wolf for a while now. I really need to make time to change.”

Ruben felt a combination of emotions. Sadness, fury and anticipation. He realized the latter was fueled by his own wolf. The animals were in sync about one thing—the urgent need to change.

A quick glance at his father made him realize the older man was having similar thoughts. “How about we go right after we finish with this?”

Ruben nodded. Sometimes it was easier—and safer—to give in.

Together they finished their inspection of the damaged area. Through it all, the sense of finality that the king wore like a cloak fascinated Ruben. He couldn’t help but compare his father’s issue to his own. Did King Leo share his son’s problems with his inner wolf, the constant battle to remain human, to maintain control, often with a high mental and physical cost? If so, Ruben wondered if that meant he wasn’t as abnormal and as isolated as he’d feared.

The potential felt enormous. Just the idea that he might not be alone in this felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. He took his father’s arm, trying to frame the words properly so that he didn’t give too much away. “How long have you—”

Someone shouted for the king, cutting Ruben off before he could finish asking his question. As they hurried over, he figured maybe it was for the best. He could probably learn more by keeping his mouth shut and observing. He definitely didn’t want his father guessing that something serious might be wrong with his only son and heir.

As she quickly made up her bed, Willow saw something stuck between the pillow and the edge of the wall. Leaning in, she picked it up and froze. An earring. One of the dangly pearl earrings she’d worn last night. Her heart thudded hard in her chest. The ancient and valuable set had belonged to her mother and, as most of the queen’s jewelry did, contained magic only she could access. Willow had borrowed them without permission, intending to return them quickly, before her mother noticed. With everything that had happened, she’d completely forgotten about them.

One earring. Her hand shook as she cradled it in her palm. One perfect, slightly sooty, pearl earring with unknown magical powers. Oh, shades. The queen would certainly notice if the set wasn’t returned intact. She had to find the other.

Frantic, she looked. A search of her bedding revealed nothing. Ditto under the bed and on the surrounding floor. Think, Willow. Think. Since she’d obviously showered last night with the jewelry on—how could she have been so oblivious?—she checked the bathroom and the shower. Nothing.

Shadefire and double shadefire. Heart sinking, she tried to think. One of her mother’s perfect pearl earrings was missing. How long until her mother noticed? The way Willow’s luck seemed to be running, the queen would decide to wear them today. She’d fly into a rage when she couldn’t find them. And Willow knew where her mother would look first. Not to Tatiana. No, Willow would have a lot of explaining to do.

After the breakfast, she had to find the other. If it wasn’t here … Her pulse skipped a beat. She must have left it in Teslinko, at the prince’s palace, most likely somewhere in the ashy ruins of the ballroom. After the breakfast, she’d return there. That is, if she could sneak away without anyone noticing, and try to find it.

Plan made, she hurried to get ready for the breakfast, well aware her mother wouldn’t appreciate it if she was late after her conspicuous absence at the welcome reception the night before.

And she’d have to do her best to steer clear of whatever scheme her sister was concocting. She had enough trouble already. No sense in borrowing any more.

“Something is going on with my sister,” Tatiana murmured to Prince Chad. She liked him, she really did. They’d been seated next to each other at the breakfast table, Chad on her left and her betrothed, Prince Eric, on her right.

Chad’s faded violet gaze sharpened. “How so?”

Since Willow hadn’t shown up yet, and he had no idea what kind of bride their combined parents had saddled him with, she hid her smile and shook her head, sending her glorious hair swaying. “I’m not certain. I’ll watch her and see if I can get her to tell me.”

He nodded, already looking bored with the subject. As he held her left hand under the table, he’d begun drawing circles in the middle of her palm with his thumb. She shivered, unable to believe how erotic such a small touch could be.

That, plus the fact that he dared take such liberties right under the watchful eye of his brother made it doubly thrilling.

They were two of a kind, she and Prince Chad. If Willow wouldn’t play along, Tatiana would try some other scheme to switch bridegrooms.