directed at the American doctor. Rather, the royal family had been targeted by a group of extremists, those who claimed they felt more connected to their wolf selves and believed remaining human for longer than a week or two was an abomination to their true natures. Only Alisa had known how much Ruben was like them, though he didn’t share their propensity for violence. Their methods, which involved violence such as bombings, were deadly. They believed such things would draw attention to their cause.
Their cause, as he knew better than most, was futile. Shifters could not stay wolf without losing their mind. Until recently, the Society of the Protectors had been dispatched to bring in Feral Shifters for rehabilitation. Those who had refused, or were deemed too mad, had been eliminated. Fortunately, that barbaric practice had been outlawed.
Still, everyone knew about the limitations placed on changing. Everyone except these extremists. Considering what had happened to him when he had tried to stay wolf more than human, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of madness drove them.
Their bombs killed and maimed, accomplishing nothing but death and destruction, but still they persevered. The royal family of Teslinko had taken precautions to prevent this from ever happening again, but evidently those hadn’t been enough.
More death. More destruction. Senseless.
Shoving his thoughts to the back of his mind, Ruben summoned his last reserves of strength and began checking on his people. Now that they were out of the ballroom and safe, minor injuries could be attended to. Water was found and distributed and Ruben accepted a bottle gratefully, draining it in several gulps. He wished it did more to soothe his raw throat, but this would have to heal with time.
As he made his way through the throngs of people, Willow remained silently at his side, patching up the wounded, providing a slender shoulder when needed. Though she was covered in soot, her beautiful gown ruined, she worked tirelessly, selflessly, earning his gratitude and his admiration.
Finally, he thought everyone had been helped. As far as he could tell, they might have saved them all. With no casualties—at least that he knew of. All of the ones who’d been knocked out were all right.
He had yet to find his parents. Wearily, he pushed himself up off the grass. Willow looked at him quizzically, her exhaustion evident by the dark circles under her eyes. They had to be safe, he thought, seeing numerous members of the King’s personal guard milling about. If something had happened to either the king or queen, no matter how minor, there would have been an outcry and someone would have been sent to fetch him.
Finally, he found one of their assistants who, wide-eyed from shock, stuttered as he assured Ruben that the royal couple was fine. Apparently they’d been in another part of the palace when the explosion had occurred. They were now ministering to the servants and the most gravely injured.
Another part of the palace. Hearing this had brought a slight smile to his face, the first since the explosion. Even after all these years spent together, his parents were still deeply in love and were known to sneak off in the middle of a gala to grab some together time. He—along with all his sisters—used to find that mortifying. Lately, he’d viewed their amorous behavior more tolerantly, even finding it amusing.
This time he breathed a sigh of relief, believing this proclivity to sneak away to spend private time with each other might have saved their lives.
Relieved, he returned to his place on the grass by Willow and watched as a team of firefighters from the village worked frantically, attempting to put out the flames. Still, part of the ballroom continued to burn, the flames flickering, roaring hungrily and sending billows of thick smoke into the night sky.
Finally, the fire was extinguished. One last dousing of water had been sprayed. The remains of the ballroom were coated in watery soot and the sour odor of smoke still curdled the air.
Shoulders rounded with exhaustion, the firefighters silently put away their equipment and prepared to return to the village.
As he pushed again to his feet, Ruben realized he was exhausted. Even his wolf had slunk back deep inside him. He glanced at Willow to find she also stood at his side, clearly equally done in, yet uncomplaining.
When he turned to face her, she stumbled, nearly going to her knees. Easily he caught her, relishing the feel of her against him before setting her on her feet.
“I think we’re done.” Hand at her elbow, where soot made the material a dirty grayish black, he steadied her and smoothed her smoky, ash-covered hair back from her face. “Thank you so much for your help. We did a lot of good tonight. There was no loss of life.”
Appearing distracted, she nodded, biting her lip, almost as though she was on the verge of tears. Swaying, she glanced at all the people huddled together in various groups. Then, lifting her hand in a gesture that seemed a halfhearted wave, she staggered away. She weaved slightly and headed down a winding, cobbled path that led only toward an old stone bench which sat alone in a secluded arbor.
This bench had once been one of his sister Alisa’s favorite places. She’d gone there when she’d needed solitude in order to think. No one had used it since Alisa had gotten married and gone to America with her new husband. Following Willow, he wondered how she’d known how to find it.
With only the full moon shining in the cloudless night sky providing light, she rounded the final bend in the path. Then, smoothing her ruined skirt, she took a seat on the bench. As he came up on her, she gave him a tired smile. “Sorry. I couldn’t bear the smell of the smoke any longer.”
He nodded his understanding. With a sigh, she patted the space beside her for him to drop down next to her.
He did and they sat, shoulders touching, silently contemplating the night. Again he marveled at the way she’d helped for hours, uncomplaining or expecting any kind of preferential treatment normally given to a beautiful woman in a ball gown. A stranger, she hadn’t run from the chaos but rather dove right in to help people she clearly didn’t know.
In short, if he’d thought her amazing before, this was doubly so now. His feelings had expanded to a sort of exhausted wonder. How could she be both so lovely and so … good? Chest tight, he gazed at her, finding her soot-stained face extraordinarily beautiful.
“What time is it?” she asked him, her voice still raspy from the smoke.
He glanced at his watch, unsurprised to find that it would soon be morning, despite the huge moon hanging in the western night sky. “Four a.m. Can you believe the sun will be rising in a few hours?” he mused. “What a night. And I still have to make a statement to the authorities.”
At his words, she inhaled sharply, sitting up straight. “Four?”
Wide-eyed, she pushed to her feet, her movements still unsteady. She glanced at him before looking out at the still-dark forest beyond the castle. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” she told him. Was that the faintest note of panic he heard in her voice?
He rose with her, eyeing her curiously. She’d been calm before, in the face of disaster. And now, panicked at the idea of being late, she seemed like a different woman.
“I’ll vouch for you,” he told her. “Sit back down. I’m sure whoever is waiting for you will understand.”
“I doubt it.” Glancing wildly around her, as if she expected someone to jump out of the shadows and grab her, she gathered her shredded composure about her like a cloak. Dipping her chin formally, she mustered up a shaky smile. “It was very nice to meet you, Prince Ruben. I’m sorry that your party didn’t turn out as well as you’d hoped.”
And then, as he tried to process her remark, she leaped away like a wild animal, without a backward glance, and took off running into the dark woods.
Mind muddled with exhaustion, Ruben considered her retreat blankly. What the …? By the time he took a step to follow her, she’d vanished from sight, disappearing into the forest.
But why? The way she’d gone led to nothing but wilderness. The nearest town was in the opposite direction.