Wolf’s Redemption (The Wolves of Langeais #3)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ulrik burst into the d’Louncrais keep to be met by a waiting Gascon.

“Monsieur Ulrik, some clothes.” The thin, balding servant pressed a tunic and breeches into his arms. “Mes Dames Kathryn and Erin are not yet as comfortable with your kind’s nakedness as what you are.”

Ulrik chaffed at the delay, but he slipped on the clothes before hurrying barefooted down the corridor toward the voices in the hall. Flames flickered in the center pit, and shadows danced across the large wall hangings, giving the impression the embroidered figures were in motion, riding across the fabric. Ulrik spared them only a glance, striding across the large room toward Gaharet, Erin, Kathryn, Aimon and Kathryn’s father, Farren, who were seated at the large oak table.

Anne stood by them, one hand on her ample hip, the other wagging a finger at Gaharet. “Now, do not speak to your mate like that, lad.” Anne’s disapproving voice echoed about the hall. “Especially with her in the condition she is, or I will box your ears.”

“I’m pregnant, Anne, not dying.” Erin leaned her elbows on the table. “Gaharet has every right to be angry. This is my fault. I deliberately deceived him so Rebekah could go after Ulrik.”

“Be that as it may, I will not have him talking to you like that.”

Erin patted the old cook’s arm. “It’s all right, Anne. I can take care of myself.”

Ulrik did not have time to discuss who was to blame. Not now. Not with his mate soon to be in the hands of the man who had killed his family.

“Ulrik!” Her face beaming, Anne waddled over, intercepting him and enfolding him in a hug. “It is good to see you again, young man. And to see you none the worse for your stay in Lothair’s keep.”

Ulrik met Gaharet’s questioning look over her head. His alpha peered past him.

Ulrik shook his head. “They got to her first, Gaharet. They have taken her to Langeais.” He released Anne and strode over, slapping his palms on the table. “We need to get her back. I need to get her back. I cannot, I will not, leave her in Lothair’s clutches. Lothair cannot win. Not this time. He has taken too much…”

He hung his head and closed his eyes, collecting himself. He did not wish to face off against his alpha. Not again, but…

He raised his head and met Gaharet’s gaze. “I cannot do this on my own. I need your help. Please.” He rubbed his hand against his chest. “You were right, Gaharet. She is my mate.”

Gaharet stood, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. “I know, and I have felt the terror you now feel, wondering if you are going to lose her. I will not let that happen, Ulrik. That I promise you. We will find a way to get her back. You did the right thing by coming to us for help.”

Some of the tension eased from Ulrik’s body. “Thank you.”

Gaharet turned to Gascon. “Have Henri saddle the horses for us. Anne, can you organize armor and boots for Ulrik, please?” He looked to Aimon. “I will not ask you to leave your mate, but we could use your help.”

“Gaharet, no,” Ulrik protested. “It is no wiser for the pack to confront Lothair in these circumstances than it was when he killed my family.” In his anger and his grief, he had not understood that then, but he did now. “Lend me some of your men. That is all I ask.”

Gaharet’s dark stare bored into him, his jaw set, and the aura of command settled over his alpha like a shroud. “I am coming with you, Ulrik. Confronting Lothair may not be necessary.”

Ulrik shook his head. “You cannot leave your pregnant mate, Gaharet. Nor can I ask Aimon to leave Kathryn unprotected. It is not safe.”

“Erin will not be unprotected, and Lothair does not know she is here.”

“But they found Rebekah. Lothair will suspect you and Erin were close by. With me.”

Gaharet shrugged. “Perhaps, but would he assume I have come here, or that I have fled?”

Aimon skirted the table to join them. “I will come, too.” Aimon smiled at his mate. “Kathryn is more than capable of protecting herself.”

Kathryn straightened in her seat. The young she-wolf’s eyes almost glowed at her mate’s praise.

“Farren is here.” Aimon nodded at Kathryn’s father. “And there is always the training room.”

The training room, able to lock from the inside, would give the women added protection. That would give Gaharet and Aimon time so they could return to the women’s aid if need be, but still…

“I shall double the gate guards and have men patrolling the walls,” said Farren.

Gascon shared a look with Anne. “Anne and I will alert the villagers. They will waylay any keep guards that should come that way and give us warning.”

Ulrik stared at his pack mates, a tightness squeezing in his chest. After all he had done, the way he had behaved, they would come to his aid? Would risk all they held dear?

“Thank you.” He clasped his hand over his heart. “This means…”

Gaharet’s expression softened. “We are pack, Ulrik. We are friends. No. More than friends. We are brothers. We will not let you face this alone. Let us help you.”

For so long he had sat on the periphery of the pack—shunned, a pariah. Now, both Gaharet and Aimon were willing to risk their lives, and the lives of their mates, to help him. The enormity of it choked him.

“I would be honored if you would accompany me.”

Gaharet gripped his shoulder. “Welcome back, Ulrik.” He turned to Farren. “Lower the portcullis after we leave. Gascon, send a man to the herbalist in the woods. Due east of Langeais Keep, no more than five leagues. The woman’s name is Constance. Tell her I sent you. Tell her we will need the same brew she gave to Erin during her turning.”

Ulrik raked his hands through his hair, a bitter taste souring the back of his throat. “Rebekah does not wish—”

“She is your mate, Ulrik. Can you tell me you would let her walk away?” There was no judgment in Gaharet’s eyes, only the knowledge of a lived experience. “Let us have the brew now, so we are prepared for any eventuality.” He strode toward the door. “Come, Ulrik. It is a half-day ride to Langeais Keep. Let us go rescue your mate and bring her home.”