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

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ulrik eyed the bodies of the four guards, their game of dice interrupted and scattered across the bloodied floor. He and Gaharet had killed two more guards at the postern gate. A regretful circumstance, but one Ulrik would commit to again to free Rebekah.

“I have found the keys.” Gascon tossed them to Ulrik.

Ignoring the burning of the silver key, he inserted it, unlocked the grate and swung it open. He paused at the top of the stairs. The dank, stale smell wafted up from the hole, and he shuddered. Memories skittered along his skin. The emptiness of his mind, his wolf bound and silent, the silver burning his skin… A familiar scent broke through his thoughts. Rebekah.

Ulrik plunged down the stairs. He exploded into the dark space and skidded to a halt. He spun around, searching for her, the darkness no barrier to his enhanced vision, eager to get to her and wrap her in his arms.

Empty.

His heart all but stopped beating. The chamber was empty. Her scent lingered, but Rebekah was gone. But the scent was fresh. They had missed her by moments, not hours.

He beat a hasty retreat up the stairs. “She is gone. Lothair must have her in the hall.” He roared at the ceiling and kicked a chair across the room. It slammed into the wall and fell to the floor, broken. “We came too late.”

“Maybe not.” Gaharet’s voice of reason cut through his despair. “Aimon will be there. He will allow nothing to happen to her.”

Ulrik threw out his arms. “What can he do? He is no match for Lothair. He will not risk his life for Rebekah. Not when his mate sits unprotected back at your keep. And I would not ask it of him.” He paced the room, heedless of the carnage on the floor. “I cannot leave Rebekah to her fate.” He thumped his chest with his fist. “She is there because of me.”

He raked his hands through his hair. She could not lose her life because of him. Not like his parents.

Ulrik closed his eyes and an eerie calm settled over him. His family had suffered fate’s punishment for his crimes, but he could not, would not allow another to take his place again. Not while he still had breath in his body. Not when he could prevent it. Perhaps it should have come to this years ago. Maybe this was always the end destined for him. He opened his eyes, taking in the dead guards, the open grate, his alpha. He knew what he must do. “I must go to her.”

“Ulrik—”

“We cannot defeat all Lothair’s guards, Gaharet. It is suicide to attempt it. I must give Lothair what he wants. Me.” He stood before his alpha, his mind decided. “Take care of Rebekah for me. Find her a way home, if that is what she truly wishes. Please.”

Gaharet snarled. “We will find another way, Ulrik. It should not come to this.”

“It will and it must.” He stared his alpha down. “You know I am right, Gaharet. You know this is the only way. It is time for me to take responsibility. No one else should risk their life or die because of me.”

Renaud moaned and thrashed about on the floor.

“Gascon will help you get Renaud into the underground chamber. Then you must leave. If Renaud does not die because of the turning, I will ensure he does. And I vow to you, I will not turn Lothair, nor anyone else at his bidding.” He clasped Gaharet’s shoulder. “Farewell, my friend. I have missed our friendship in these long years past. I am glad we reconciled before we came to this.”

He straightened his shoulders, firmed his resolve and headed for the door.

“Ulrik…”

He turned to Gaharet, his alpha, his friend. “Do not stop me. I must do this.”

Gaharet clasped his hand over his heart and bowed his head. With a nod, Ulrik left the room. He hurried down the corridors, racing up the flights of stairs until he stood at the double doors of the hall. The guards eyed him warily. He raised his sword, expecting the guards to draw theirs, to deny him entry, but they opened the doors for him and let him through.

Ulrik stood inside the hall as the doors closed behind him. Nobles, ladies-in-waiting, guards and chevaliers. They filled the hall, their backs to him, focused on the dais at the other end.

“Lothair!” he roared.

Startled gasps echoed around the room, and the crowd parted. Curious whispers buzzed in his ears. The onlookers, the voyeurs ever eager for a spectacle, closed in behind him as he walked the length of the hall. Standing before the dais, before Lothair, were his fellow wolves—Aimon, Lance and the twins—their eyes wide. Aimon nodded. Good. He could trust the young wolf to have his back. Shock rolled off Edmond and Aubert, tinged with anger. He could not fault them for that. They believed him to have killed Gaharet. From Lance, strangely, he sensed nothing.

He might have given Godfrey’s absence more thought had his gaze not fallen on a figure, straining against two guards beside Lothair. Rebekah. To be standing there, shackled, and understand few words that were spoken, must be terrifying for her, though she did not show it.

Her dark eyes misted over, and she stared at him with such longing for a moment he considered, had circumstances been different, she might have come to accept him as her mate. He brushed the thought aside. It was not to be.

Aimon squeezed his shoulder as he passed. Edmond frowned, casting a glance at Rebekah, then back at him, sudden understanding flickering in his eyes. The twins shared a look and Aubert’s furrowed brow rose. They both stepped aside. Then he was standing before Lothair, his sword in his hand and his fellow wolves at his back.

Keep guards stepped forward, but Lothair raised a hand, halting them, a triumphant smile hovering on his lips. “Ulrik. So good of you to join us.”

Ulrik stared at his comte. The man who had taken so much from him. His family, and for a time, his freedom. His gut clenched with the strength of his rage. He would not let him take Rebekah.

He threw down his sword, and it clattered at Lothair’s feet. Ulrik dropped to his knees. “My life for hers,” he said in the language of Bretaigne. For her. “My life, for hers.”

A collective gasp rose from the crowd, and mutterings swept through the hall. A rumble came from Aubert, a snarl from Aimon. Ulrik ignored everything but Rebekah.

She closed her eyes and two tears tracked down her face. “You came for me,” she whispered.

Had she thought he would not come? Had she believed he would abandon her like her previous lover? Never .

Lothair got to his feet and moved toward him. Ulrik held his stance. He was on his knees, but he would not prostrate himself, nor bow his head. Lothair kicked his discarded sword beyond his reach, giving him some satisfaction. Lothair still viewed him as a threat.

“Your life for hers? Hmm.” Lothair tapped his chin. “What is there to stop me from taking both?”

A growl rumbled from behind him. Aimon again. The young pup was growing teeth. Then another and another. The twins. His heart thudded to life, sweeping aside old resentments. Though they believed he had killed Gaharet, they would protect his mate.

Ulrik gritted his teeth. “It is me you want, not her. My life, for hers .”

“Well, well, well. The most wayward of Gaharet’s men finally stepping up to assume his responsibilities. Who knew it would only take a woman?”

Lothair inclined his head toward the guards holding Rebekah and they dragged her to him.

She spat at Lothair. “Bastard, mother-fu—” The guards shoved her to her knees, and Ulrik pulled her into his arms. She struggled against him and lunged at Lothair.

He grasped her shoulders and spun her around. “Rebekah, stop. I need you to stop. Please.”

She ceased struggling and put her palms on his chest. “You came, and God, I love that you did. After what I said. I’m so sorry, Ulrik. I didn’t know, but…”

“Yes, Rebekah. For you.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Always.”

She leaned into him, her forehead resting against his chin. “But you shouldn’t have.” She gripped his surcoat. “Now he’s going to kill you.”

“You would have me leave you here? Risk your life for mine?” He set her back and cupped her face in his hands. “I would give my life a thousand times to know you are safe.” He touched his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling. “If this is my end, I go to it having met you, having loved you. I do this for you, Rebekah.” His grip tightened on her face. “You promise me something, Rebekah. Promise me you will go with Aimon. That you will survive. I need you to do this for me.”

“I—”

Lothair clapped his hands, once, twice, three times. “How very touching.” He gestured for the guards. “Take him.”

The guards grabbed his arms and dragged him to his feet.

Rebekah clung to him. “No. No. You can’t—” She grabbed one guard’s arm and tried pulling him away from Ulrik. He shoved her. She fell to the floor.

Ulrik roared and struggled against the guards. “Do not touch her!”

Aimon stepped forward, grasped Rebekah by the arm and pulled her to her feet. She lunged at the guard again, but Aimon held her firm and dragged her away.

“Aimon,” Ulrik beseeched him.

Aimon nodded, encircling Rebekah’s waist with his arm. Though it burned to see another male, even a mated one, with his arms around his mate, he repressed his need to go to her. To rip her out of Aimon’s arms. He had to let her go.

Certain Aimon had Rebekah safe, her foul curses ringing in his ears, he stopped struggling. He had made his choice.

Lothair raised an eyebrow at a particularly foul shriek from Rebekah involving a man’s anatomy. “She is feisty.” Lothair crossed his arms over his chest. “Perhaps I will—”

Ulrik brought the beast as close to the surface as he could without shifting. “You will never touch her. She leaves with Aimon.”

Lothair studied him, his eyes narrowed. “And you will give me what I want?”

Ulrik snarled at Lothair, revealing a canine sliding into place. Lothair held his ground. His comte must have pure steel flowing through his veins.

“I always get what I want, Ulrik.” Lothair’s smile was smug. “One way or another.”

A door slammed behind them. The crowd gasped, and the guards drew their swords.

“Gaharet? You are…alive?”

The choked words had come from behind him. From Lance.

With studied calm, Lothair faced the intrusion. “Gaharet, what a surprise.”

The slide of steel against his scabbard rang loud in the sudden silence as Lothair drew his weapon.

Gaharet, his bloodied sword held nonchalantly by his side, prowled into the hall. “You wanted to talk, Lothair. Here I am.”

Ulrik tensed. What was Gaharet doing?

Lothair eyed the packed hall. “Then we shall talk.” Lothair motioned to his guards. “Get them all out. And once you are done, leave.”

“But Mon Seigneur—” Lothair’s snarl cut off the capitaine and he gulped. “Of course, Mon Seigneur Comte. As you command.”

With a wary eye on Gaharet, he began issuing orders to clear the hall. The guards started to drag Ulrik away.

“Not him. He stays.” Lothair waved his sword at Rebekah. “And so does she.”

Ulrik struggled against the guards. “No. She leaves with Aimon.”

Lothair gave him a look that could have cowed an army. “You are in no position to make demands, Voclain. She. Stays.”

As soon as the two guards released him, he had Rebekah in his arms. He rested his cheek on her head, breathing in her scent. He had thought he would never have this again. And while it may only be for this moment, he would take it.

A sword pointed at his throat snapped his head up. Lothair. His comte grabbed a startled Rebekah by the arm, and Ulrik had no choice but to let her go.

“The rest of you”—Lothair swung his gaze to Aimon, Edmond, Aubert and Lance—“leave. Now.”

They stood their ground.

Lothair glared at them. “You would dare defy me?”

They stood resolute, looking to Gaharet.

Lothair’s jaw tightened and the cords on his neck stood out. “Do not look to him. I am your comte. You obey me !”

Gaharet inclined his head. “Go.”

The twins turned and followed the crowd. Lance hesitated, the older chevalier’s lips pinched and white, concern etched across his weary face. Then he, too, slunk away. Aimon, his shoulders slumped, was the last to leave. He had done his best. It was Ulrik who had failed to keep Rebekah safe, not Aimon.

The last of the guards filed out of the hall, and the large double doors swung shut, leaving the large room empty but for the four of them. Ulrik hoped his alpha knew what he was doing.