Chapter 24: Ghosting

I return the coat to the line and morph into werewolf form, running for the palace. I wonder if the real owner will even notice it went missing.

The forest engulfs me, welcomes me home and I embrace its quiet, the night-time stillness of it, more kind to me than anything I'll find back under my grandfather's rule. How can I make this right? And do I want to? The more I think about it, the more my anger tells me Oleksander is blowing this way out of proportion, and that all of my fear about telling him in the first place was unfounded. It was a love affair, not a betrayal of my people. And it's over. Sage knows nothing about me, or the werenation. And it's not like other werewolves haven't mated with normals. I'm hardly the first one to do it. But I'm the very first wereprincess, aren't I? And heaven forbid I muddy our precious bloodline with the taint of a normal.

It's not like I'm pregnant with his child-I'm certain of that-or fighting to have him accepted as my mate. I've chosen to let him go. Oleksander will just have to get over the fact I am independent now, a changed weregirl, no matter his disapproval, his doubts about my loyalty. And like it or not, I am who I am.

Feeling slightly better, knowing Sage is at least safe for the moment and I am on firmer ground than I thought I was, I feel my tense muscles relax as I settle into my run.

It's not long before I find the white wolf and her pack ghosting me. Did they follow? Their territory isn't large, typically lingering around the palace grounds. They-and I-are a long way from their usual stomping grounds. But I'm thankful for their appearance, for their support and the quiet strength of the pack. Being with them is the only time I don't feel oppressed or judged or trapped.

I'm almost to the edge of the trees, so close to the palace prison I live in, when the white wolf barks a warning. I slow and come to a stop, scenting a pair of familiar witches waiting for me. I'm still in wereform when I greet the Enforcer and his witch partner at the fringe by the lawn.

"Finlay." The hulking form nods to me. "And Gwendolyn." They've been our personal liaisons with Femke and the Council since our freedom and are welcome in our territory. So why are they waiting for me here?

"We spoke with Maksym and Isabelle," Gwendolyn says, her hazel eyes sad. "Trouble we should know about?"

I shrug it off. "Not Council business," I say, though part of it really is. But I'd rather talk to Femke about it if I have to.

Gwen nods, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her cheek, tucking it into the black hood of her robe. "Fair enough," she says.

I long to shift into human, to dress and put an end to this horrible night, but I can tell they aren't here for a social call. "What's wrong?"

"We need to talk to your grandfather." Finlay's deep voice and huge form hide the heart of a creative soul. I've sighed over his singing voice, the paintings he's created with those giant hands. But he sounds as grim as I've ever heard him, almost angry.

"So go talk to him." I step away from them, only to have Gwendolyn gesture to me.

"He's not allowing anyone in the palace," she says, taking care with her words. "So, I'll ask you your own question, Charlotte: what's wrong?"

The big fool. What is he playing at? "Come with me," I growl, stalking out of the trees and across the lawn. I don't bother to shift, staying in werewolf form as I push past the guards who bow to me and allow the witch pair through after I glare in their direction. My paws are soundless on the carpet, the only evidence of our passing the rustling of the cloaks the witches wear.

I don't hesitate at the throne room door, continuing my furious approach, my anger growing by the step as the rebellion in me wakes all over again. Letting go of Sage has only made things worse, not better. I had hoped saying this final goodbye would break the hold my new insurrection has over me, but it's only fed the fire I created by falling in love with Sage.

Besides, it is one thing for my grandfather to be angry with me, but quite another for him to deny the entry of Femke's envoys. I am not fooling myself, even if he is. If the European High Council wants us under their thumb, they would make it happen. We are vastly outnumbered and out powered. Keeping on their good side is far more important than moping over my love life.

Or lack of, at this point.

Oleksander looks up from his throne, scowling at me, though when he spots the pair with me, his anger fades to curiosity.

"Welcome," he says.

"They don't feel very welcome," I snap at him, wolf-voice full of reprimand.

He snarls in return, mouth turning to a muzzle. "Speak softly to your king."

"It's of no matter," Gwendolyn says, interrupting with her soft voice and easy manner. "We were told you weren't seeing anyone, but our orders were specific." She shrugs with a small smile. "Forgive the intrusion, Great King."

He shudders, face returning to normal. "Those idiots," he snaps. "I didn't mean envoys of the Council. You are, of course, always welcome."

I reach for the robe one of the guards slips to me, expertly sliding into it as my blonde-furred body reverts to human shape. Practice makes for flawless transitions for modesty's sake. "It's always a pleasure to have you here," I say, my back turned to my grandfather. "But you aren't joining us for the enjoyment of our company."

Finlay snorts while Gwendolyn shakes her head, face sad and worried. "I'm afraid not," she says. "I have terrible news and a request from the Council Leader for assistance."

I refuse to look at Oleksander, but I feel his concern as powerful as mine. At least he's willing to put his own anger aside for the moment, long enough to accept there are bigger issues that might be more important than his petty disappointment.

Charlotte. Who are you becoming? I shiver in the robe as I ponder the question and my grandfather speaks.

"What has happened?" He comes down from his throne to join us. He keeps his distance from me and I'm glad. I don't think I could tolerate his touch right now.

"Someone is making werewolves," Finlay says in his usual blunt manner before Gwendolyn can soften the blow. "And Femke needs your help to find out who."



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