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.
Chapter 5
After watching his father hold the press conference, Ruben had given his statement to the police. When he’d finished, King Leo was waiting for him.
Together, they’d walked the perimeter of the ruined ballroom, inspecting the damage and dictating their report to the attending scribe. Now that the damage to the castle had been noted and repairs scheduled, Ruben knew he should rest. Beyond exhaustion, he wondered how he had kept from doing a face-plant into the rubble.
As he turned to ask his father’s leave so he might grab a few hours of sleep, the wolf inside him protested. Lunging at an invisible barrier, the animal wanted out. As did his father’s beast.
Clearly equally exhausted, King Leo gave him a rueful grin. “Your wolf is restless. Mine is responding in kind. Since they won’t let us sleep, are you up for a quick change and run?”
Fighting to hold back his inner beast, Ruben nodded. “When?”
“How about now?”
As his father clapped his hand on his shoulder, Ruben finished corralling his wolf into temporary submission. He grinned up at the older man. “That’s one of the reasons I love you, Dad. The ability to make quick decisions.”
This compliment made the king laugh. “Quick and good, I hope,” he said.
“Do you mind if I bring York?” Ruben asked. “He’d love a good run. He’s been cooped up since the ball last night.” His German shepherd dog had been brought up with the Pack and often accompanied him on trips into the woods. When Ruben changed, the dog eagerly ran at his wolf self’s side.
“Sure.” King Leo loved the large dog almost as much as Ruben did.
Rather than go all the way back into the castle and locate the kennel master who was looking after York, Ruben dialed him up on his cell phone. A moment later, he whistled and the huge dog came flying around the corner toward them.
“Settle, boy.” Ruben calmed him with a few words and a light touch. King Leo stroked York’s silky head also.
“Let’s go.” Ruben waved the dog ahead of them. Tongue lolling, York gladly led the way.
King Leo chuckled. “Too bad that’s a dog, not a wolf. If anyone ever sees us all together, there will be talk in the village about the giant shepherd who runs with a pack of wolves.”
Ruben chuckled, knowing his father’s words were true. “Are you ready?”
“I am,” the king answered. Side by side, they strolled out of the castle, both in relatively good humor despite their weariness.
Walking down the path past the bench where Ruben had rested with Willow, Ruben again wondered where she’d gone. To all outward appearances, she’d disappeared into the same forest they were going to in order to shape-shift into wolves. Maybe as wolf, he could find a clue.
He didn’t want anything to interfere with this moment so he pushed the thought from his mind and bumped his father with his shoulder. His father bumped him back.
Both wearing identical faint smiles, they continued, companionably silent, along a well-trod path that wove through the dense woods in a seemingly random pattern. Centuries ago their ancestors had cleared this path and built the small stone temple at the end of it. All for the sole purpose of enabling the royal family to have a private—and beautiful—place to shape-shift from human form to wolf.
When they rounded the last turn and the ancient temple was no longer hidden, King Leo shook his head and let out a long breath. “I need this, my boy!”
Then, as Ruben was about to agree, the older man took off running. “Last one to change is a rotten rabbit!”
After a moment of shock—they both had been up all night, after all—Ruben leaped forward. Taking up the challenge, he tore after his father. They reached the old building roughly at the same time, though the king won by mere inches.
“Not bad for a man my age,” he huffed.
Ruben had to agree.
Still chuckling and slightly out of breath, they stepped inside, shedding their clothes as they went.
King Leo was the first to change. Ruben had barely gotten undressed when the air around his father began to shimmer, heralding the beginnings of the change. With his own wolf raging to be free, Ruben dropped to the ground and counted to three. Then he let the change rip through him as his wolf rejoiced to be free.
A moment later, two wolves stood in the spot where before there’d been two men. King Leo was a huge graying beast, while Ruben’s pelt was close to the same sable color of his human hair.
Muzzle to muzzle, they inhaled each other’s scent. Then, with a glad bark, Ruben took off, aware of his father racing at his side.
Later, much later, with the hunt completed and their wolves sated happy, and pleasantly worn out, they headed back toward the changing temple, luxuriating in their heightened wolf senses. As a human, Ruben relied primarily on sight. As a wolf, he used his nose. He missed that super sense of smell when he existed as man. He felt its absence with a sort of sharp sorrow.
It was good to have this experience with his father. These days they didn’t get to spend enough time together.
As they neared the path that would take them back to the old temple, Ruben felt a disturbance in the air. A shift, a slight breeze, a shiver up his spine. Nothing tangible, at least not by scent or by sight. A quick glance at his father revealed the older wolf felt it, too.
Instantly, they went low to the ground, seeking cover under vegetation. His sharp lupine hearing picked up a sound and he went still. Footsteps. Human. Uttering a low growl in the back of his throat, he glanced at his father. The other wolf dropped to his belly, well hidden. Ruben did the same.
He smelled her before he saw her. The scent, tantalizingly familiar. And the instant the woman’s dark head came