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Ruthless Knight Page 2


  She needed to find Illary or Charles. She could trust them to explain to her what was really going on. The last thing she remembered, her mother had been screaming and the sounds of battle had raged throughout the castle.

  Everything had changed in the blink of an eye. She was in an unfamiliar land with people who practiced a kind of magic Tamryn had never seen before.

  “Is there anything else we can get for you?” one of the women asked. It was the first woman who’d spoken to her in the woods, the one with blond hair and deep blue eyes. Margot, she’d said her name was.

  Tamryn shook her head and offered her a little smile.

  “We’ll let you rest, then,” Margot said.

  The other two women looked as if they wanted to linger, but Margot waved them out of the cottage.

  Watching them go, Tamryn felt a pang of loneliness. They’d been friendly, and their chatter had sounded so normal and comforting, despite their strange accent. Now that they weren’t here to distract her, she was bombarded with thoughts of her family and all that had been lost. It felt as if it had happened mere moments before, although Illary had told Tamryn she would call her from the spell when it was safe. Now Tamryn began to wonder—perhaps she wasn’t only in a strange land, but in a strange time. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, shivering in her borrowed clothes.

  As soon as the door closed behind the women, she fell to her knees on the floor and let herself cry. Her parents, gone. How long in the past, she couldn’t know, but that didn’t matter. As far as she was concerned, it had happened minutes ago.

  She could still hear the echoes of her mother’s screams. And her dying words had been words of love for Tamryn.

  Her mother had told her to be strong. Tamryn could be strong.

  Rubbing her wrist over her cheeks, she strode to the door. It would likely be locked while these Idaho people decided what to do with her now that they’d called her forth from Illary’s spell. Tamryn didn’t have time to wait for that. She’d have to break out of here so she could begin the search for Charles. That search would start with finding Illary, or perhaps some other witch who could assist Tamryn on her quest.

  She tried the handle on the door. It turned and she tugged. She was surprised when the door opened a crack. Quickly, she closed it again.

  So, she wasn’t a prisoner. Interesting.

  Either that, or they were imprisoning her in some other way. Magic, perhaps? Would her body burst into flame the moment she stepped from the cottage?

  She doubted it. The women had seemed concerned with helping her and making her comfortable.

  She wished she knew who to trust.

  Sounds of conversation continued outside. They were talking about her, but they were speaking so fast, she was having a hard time following the dialogue. Leaning against the door, she listened.

  She would wait until all was quiet outside, and then make her escape.

  Chapter Three

  Nolan was very careful to sit facing away from the cabin that housed the “sphere chick,” as Kayla had taken to calling her. He wondered if the woman would talk to them, tell them her name. He longed to hear her voice.

  Every other shifter in the RCC had met their mates. They were all paired up.

  Except for Nolan.

  Two days ago, he’d have said he gave zero fucks about this. He didn’t have a mate, didn’t want one. It hurt too much. Better to be alone.

  But after the woman had opened her violet eyes, he was a goner, just like Bryce had said.

  The others had retired to their own cabins or their patrols after finally coming to the conclusion that no amount of discussion was going to reveal who the woman was and why Bronson wanted her.

  Nolan took a sip of his beer, then sat back in his folding lawn chair, trying to get comfortable. His hand burned from when he’d touched the sphere. Or maybe it was her skin that had burned him. Yes, he decided. It had been her skin that burned him. Now he was itchy and hot with the memory of her back beneath his palm.

  She’d been cold, though, not hot.

  He shook his head. Whatever. He’d seen a lot of shit in his life, especially when traveling through Canada. Cage match after cage match, he’d fought to forget. He could try to forget this, too.

  But he didn’t want to. He wanted to understand.

  Pointless. He couldn’t expect anything to make sense, not now, not after his clan had done some spell that had caused the appearance of a magical glowing sphere and a person—a beautiful woman. Searching for reason would only hurt his brain. He’d rather drink his beer and enjoy the quiet.

  The fire in front of him was burning out. He wasn’t sure how long he’d sit out here, watching the dying flames. Maybe he’d get up, grab another log to throw on it. Or maybe he’d remain in this too-small-for-his-frame lawn chair, uncomfortable and hoping the chill of the night would help ease some of the heat moving through his body.

  The heat was centered in his chest, filling his heart. It was causing an undeniable pull toward Parker’s old cabin, where the mysterious woman slept.

  Or...maybe she wasn’t sleeping, after all. The sound of the door opening got his attention. He didn’t move his head, waiting to see what would happen.

  Soft footsteps, and then she froze as if she’d just noticed him and halted in her tracks. He kept facing the fire.

  “You don’t have to leave,” he said.

  She didn’t say anything.

  “We could help you. I think that’s why your sphere thing opened up to us. At least, that’s what the witch told Margot would happen.”

  The sound of her footsteps was soft as she came around and stood in front of his chair. She stared at his face. Her eyes didn’t look like any color in the dark; they glittered, reflecting the firelight. Her brilliant red hair was like wild flame. The fire could only wish to be as mesmerizing as she was.

  She still didn’t speak, so Nolan went on. “I know this place isn’t much to look at. Just a few little cabins out in the middle of Nowhere, Idaho. But this clan sticks together.”

  He sniffed the air, trying to catch her scent. An aura of magic surrounded her, smelling of wilderness and something he couldn’t place. So she was a shifter...probably? Maybe not. She smelled fresher than a forest, like clean air. She smelled like he imagined clouds would smell.

  “You know, I’d love it if you could tell me your name,” he said. He waited, but all he heard was the night sounds of the woods around them. “I’m Nolan Marks. I’m a polar bear. We don’t get too many shifters like me around here; most of us are up in Alaska. But Jameson is a good alpha. He takes in all kinds, so it doesn’t matter what type of shifter you are.”

  Now would’ve been a good opening for her to share what her animal was, but he wouldn’t ask. It was rude. Besides, if she wouldn’t share her name, he doubted she’d share her animal, if she had one.

  Maybe she was a witch. It would make sense enough, he supposed. And he didn’t know what witches smelled like. Maybe they all smelled like clouds.

  Nolan had been called the quietest guy in the clan. He and Parker both, really. But now he felt downright chatty. The woman’s silence seemed to invite his words.

  “You gave me a scare, at first,” he said. “When I first saw you. Your heart wasn’t beating or anything. I guess however the magic works must have done that, stopped your heart.”

  She turned her head to the side and looked down the drive that led away from the Ring of Fire. He started to follow her gaze, but his eyes caught on the scars along the side of her face. Bad burns, he had to guess. He wondered if they were recent.

  “You’re as safe here as you are anywhere,” he said. “I suspect you’re thinking about leaving. But there are others out there who were trying to find you, and they’re not good people. We are. Not one of us will try to keep you here, though. It’s up to you whether you stay or go.”

  Turning back to face him, she parted her lips. Her glistening eyes seemed to drink him in as she spoke.
“I’ll stay.”

  He wanted to jump up and shout because she’d spoken to him—to him—but he didn’t want to scare her. She sounded like she wasn’t from around here. English, maybe, but it was hard to tell with just two words.

  “You can talk,” he said.

  She pressed her mouth closed, then took slow steps back to Parker’s cabin. Her feet made barely a sound over the fallen pine needles that covered the path.

  Nolan didn’t turn to watch her go, but he listened for the door to close behind her.

  A slow grin spread across his face. She’d stay. She talked, and she’d stay. He would call that a win.

  HE WAITED FOR THE FIRE to die out completely before he stood up. Dawn was only a couple of hours away. Fatigue was wearing him down, despite his strange desire to stay out here like some kind of sentinel, guarding the Ring of Fire and the new woman’s cabin. A feeling of expectation filled him, and it hadn’t dulled after his rather one-sided conversation with the mystery woman.

  Something was coming, he just didn’t know what it was.

  The long-eared owl called again, its short who...who...who loud in the darkness.

  Looking behind him, Nolan saw that the door was shut and the lights were off in Parker’s old cabin. He wondered if the woman slept, or if she, too, was kept awake by this weird, antsy feeling. Hopefully, the feeling had nothing to do with the Bitterroots. They’d be angry as fuck to find out that the RCC had gotten the spell, the sphere, and the woman who came with it.

  Nolan hoped he’d be around when Bronson sent someone to “discuss” the issue. His right hook was great at hurrying along discussions.

  Footsteps crunched gravel. Nolan stood up straighter and cocked his head, listening. The footsteps belonged to one set of legs. Who would approach in the darkness, just two hours before dawn, on foot? It could be a distraction of Bronson’s. Nolan sniffed the air, but he couldn’t smell anyone. Not shifter, not human.

  His body remained calm—no flooding of adrenaline in his system, no rush of his heartbeat. Other than standing up a little straighter in expectation, he hadn’t changed his position. Every one of his instincts told him this wasn’t a person to fear.

  Someone was messing with his reactions and instincts.

  And that scared him most of all.

  “Who’s there?” he said softly, not wanting to wake anyone else in the clan. At least, not yet. “And how did you get past our patrols?”

  Kayla and Erena were out right now, with Jameson weaving a secondary patrol between them.

  The person was far enough away to remain out of the light, but close enough they’d be able to hear Nolan’s words.

  A woman responded. “I’m Illary. Are you the alpha?”

  Illary. That was the witch who’d helped Margot and Bryce. Nolan could guess why she was here—her beloved sphere had hatched. “No. The alpha is out right now.”

  Nolan peered into the shadows beyond the nearest cabins, where the driveway disappeared. Illary stepped into view. She wore her black hair pulled back from her heart-shaped face, and her dark eyes seemed to see everything at once—Nolan, the Ring of Fire and its cabins, the forest surrounding them.

  “I need to speak with the alpha,” she said.

  Nolan shrugged and pulled his phone from his pocket. It was possible Jameson was patrolling in his human form and might answer.

  He dialed, and a moment later, Jameson picked up.

  “There’s a witch here who wants to talk,” Nolan said.

  “I’ll be right there.” Jameson ended the call.

  Nolan pocketed his phone and looked up at Illary. “You can have a seat if you want.”

  “Thanks.” She approached one of the lawn chairs and gingerly sat in it.

  “Want me to get the fire going?”

  “No. Thank you.” She looked around the Ring of Fire, at the neat little cabins with their blue doors, at the well-beaten paths leading up to their porches and the flower pots bearing the last of the summer’s blooms.

  Sniffing the air, Nolan tried to find the scent of clouds, but Illary didn’t have it. That smell of clean air must’ve only been for Tamryn, then, and not a universal witch scent.

  Or Tamryn wasn’t a witch.

  He opened his mouth to ask, before deciding to close it again. Jameson would have all the same questions. He’d let Jameson ask them. It wasn’t really his business, anyway. He felt responsible, sure, and he felt something much stronger than curiosity when it came to the woman sleeping in Parker’s old cabin. But it wasn’t his place to ask.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Jameson walked out of the forest at the other side of the Ring of Fire, striding forward with an alpha’s bearing. Purposeful. In control.

  Jameson looked Illary up and down before saying, “I’m Jameson, alpha of this clan.”

  “Hello,” Illary said, standing up. “I’m Illary. I’m the witch who can help you with Tamryn.”

  “Is that her name?” Jameson asked. “She hasn’t spoken.”

  Illary looked alarmed, and her eyebrows rose up on her forehead. Nolan thought of telling them that the woman—Tamryn?—had indeed spoken. She’d spoken exactly two words, and her soft, lyrical voice echoed even now in his mind.

  If Nolan hadn’t already vowed not to take a mate, he might think Tamryn was the one.

  “But she’s here,” Illary said, almost to herself. “I felt the magic. You woke her.”

  She turned to face Nolan, who nodded and said, “Yes, we did.”

  “You in particular. It was your touch.” Illary’s voice was certain and bordered on arrogance.

  Nolan folded his arms across his chest and he looked down and away.

  Illary went on, “I’ve been waiting to call the princess—the queen—forward for lifetimes. Now that she’s awake, I must reunite her with her betrothed, Charles.”

  Nolan’s head snapped up. Princess and queen were surprising enough, but betrothed? His polar bear clawed inside his chest and he stifled a growl. Stand down, he ordered his inner bear. He’d been disappointed before, and he could handle disappointment again, even when this disappointment was accompanied by a white-hot jealousy that seared his heart.

  Jameson shot him a concerned glance. Nolan grimaced and gave a slight shrug.

  “The queen and I will travel to where Charles’s sphere disappeared. North of here. Presently, the region is called Canada.”

  Presently? When was this woman from? Nolan wanted to circle her, sniff the air, find out what kind of magic they were dealing with.

  Maybe she could conceal lies. Maybe the thing about the “betrothed” was a falsehood and he just hadn’t sensed it.

  But she had no reason to lie.

  She was still talking. “I would like to ask for one of your warriors to accompany the queen and me to Canada.”

  Jameson raised his eyebrows at Nolan in question.

  Nolan subtly shook his head. Nope. Not him. Before the mention of that Charles asshole, sure, he would’ve been up for a field trip. But now? No way. Recipe for disaster.

  “Can you help us?” Illary asked Jameson. “The queen and her betrothed hold great power, power which, if it were to come into the wrong hands, could spell disaster for all supernatural creatures.”

  Nolan felt Jameson’s stare like a fucking tattoo needle, scraping across his skin. Nolan determinedly looked away from the alpha, refusing to engage.

  Finally, Jameson said, “Him. He can go.”

  Nolan looked up again, to see Jameson pointing directly at him.

  Aw, fuck.

  Chapter Four

  A soft noise woke Tamryn. She scrambled to sit up. Fresh in her mind were the nightmares that had plagued her while she slept. Skin-hunters flooding the castle, their teeth made of knives. They told Tamryn that if she came quietly, they would spare her mother. Her father already lay in a heap on the stone floor, his blood creating rivers that flowed toward Tamryn’s bare feet.

  In this small cottage, all was quiet.
r />   Except—except for that one sound that did not belong. It wasn’t the large box that held cold within it; she’d heard the low humming noises coming from that several times throughout the night. This was a different sound. Someone was here.

  She raised her nose and sniffed the air.

  The witch walked into her bedroom. Her time away had made her more youthful, if that was possible. Tamryn wondered what kind of magic could rid Illary of the streak of gray in her hair, the faint lines on her face. Powerful magic. The kind of magic that burned, that could force someone into sleep.

  Tamryn held her arm out, ready to fight. The witch would not put her in that burning spell again. Everyone she loved was gone, and now she was in a strange land of strange people. Everything here smelled of fur and wilderness. She missed the cool scents of her castle and her family.

  Illary held up a tray. “I brought you some breakfast, Your Majesty. The shifter Margot cooked it for you. She said you don’t have food in here.”

  Your Majesty, Illary had said. Because Tamryn was no longer a princess. Her parents were dead, her brothers were dead. She was a queen.

  She’d trade the title in a heartbeat.

  “Please don’t address me as ‘Your Majesty.’ I don’t want to be called a queen. And I’m not hungry.”

  “Eat anyway,” Illary said. “You need your strength so you can learn to take your dragon form.”

  “I don’t want my dragon form.” Tamryn knew she sounded petulant, like the spoiled princess her older brothers had accused her of being, but she couldn’t help it. The dragon form invited death.

  The dragon form was why she no longer had older brothers, or parents.

  As if sensing Tamryn’s fear, Illary didn’t argue over the dragon form. Instead, she said, “We have to find Charles.”

  Tamryn jolted. She didn’t know why she had expected to remain here with this clan of shifters, but a part of her was disappointed she would be leaving. Heat filled her cheeks because she shouldn’t be selfish. Charles was likely just as lost in this new landscape as she was; it was ungenerous to even consider remaining here while he might need assistance. “Of course. Do you know where to look?”