Her Wolf King

{le tresor}

THAT NIGHT, Lenore paced the grassy floor of her bedroom, still feeling too shy to enter her husband's, even after their kiss that day. Paths her thoughts had tread too many times began winding through her mind. What if he hadn't liked the kiss at all and was merely saying so to be polite? What if he'd never intended for her to kiss him at all, and had merely meant this whole marriage thing as a nice little bargain to tie up loose ends? What if–

Stop it, Lenore. You sound like a schoolgirl. You are far too old for such foolishness, and a married woman besides.

Trying to distract herself, she fidgeted with the collar of her nightgown, looping the closure off of the pearl button with a sharp tug. Gasping, she found that she had tugged with too much force as the pearl fell off, rolling onto the floor and beneath the bed. Kneeling on the ground, she struggled to retrieve it from amidst the wildflowers that were growing from between the floorboards.

Having a magically enchanted room really was quite unfortunate sometimes.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she patted the area under the bed, feeling for the tiny pearl...

"Aha!" She closed her hands around something small and appropriately pearl-like, but when she pulled it out, it was no white pearl button at all. Instead, it was a black jet bead. Dropping it with a gasp of surprise, the bead... simply dissolved into a puff of smoke, leaving a yellowing piece of parchment in its place.

Nudging it gingerly with her toe, she was relieved when the thing didn't explode. Curiosity got the better of her, and she picked up the page, finding it was a letter of some sorts.

My dear Everett, read the greeting. Her stomach churned at the term of endearment in the address, though a quick glance at the signature suggested it was more ironic than anything, given that it was from Marya. His former wife.

When would the woman stop getting between them?

Probably when her immortal lifespan ends, a sardonic voice responded.

Shut up.

She continued reading.

I am sure by now you have finished angrily howling at the moon in hopes that it will cause you to become a man again permanently (it won't) or destroying my minions (that will only anger me, Everett). So, I am writing a message that you will certainly read if you want to keep the rest of your life (it is not as miserable as all that, I assure you, to live as a wolf in the nighttime and a man in the daytime. Perhaps one day you may even grow used to it, though doubtless you will never marry again).

Atr least, not to any sane, sensible woman.

She gritted her teeth involuntarily at the slight.

I am leaving in this castle a treasure which I expect you to guard with your life. This gem of immense power cannot be left in the wrong hands, and who better to guard a treasure than a wolf? Oh, certainly, some witches prefer dragons, but not I.

No, I prefer wolves. They are never slayed by any pompous princes in the stories. Some even end the tales alive...

Frowning, she reread the cryptic lines. Why would she place a treasure in the home of her estranged husband? If there really were a valuable of such immense power, would it really be wise for such a cunning woman–for she had to admit Marya was that, if she was nothing else–do such a foolish thing?

Unless she'd never expected Everett to read the letter. Unless she had expected him to throw away all her missives and abandon himself to the primality of his wolfish self. Unless...