Breeze

Derya stood in the shadow of the balcony, staring out over the glittering reflection of the low-hanging, almost full moon on the restless sea, ignoring the spasms in her muscles and the ache in her tummy.

Despite the massive dinner feast, Argana had thoughtfully left a covered platter waiting for her in her room, knowing her wolf would need more than she dared eat with so many eyes on her, but instead of eating her fill, she came out here for fresh air.

This was the closest she would get to the beckoning forest. Her gaze shifted to the dark mass so teasingly close, but what would be the point of risking the night when she could not shift? Another twinge caught her off guard and startled a sharp intake of breath from her, but it was not as bad as the night before, nor did she have to hide it from her companions.

Someone entered the room through the secret doorway, and a tiny smile touched her lips as his sure thread entered the room behind her and brought him to a standstill a few inches shy of the door.

"What are you doing out here?" Andor asked, concerned.

It wasn't winter yet, but a chill already touched the air with the moon on its downward spiral, dawn closer than evening.

"Too many humans, too much stale air, noise, and scents," she admitted, constantly feeling like this after a party, but it was far worse with her not being able to go out there and run among the trees, hunt, and frolic. "And the wolf still hears the moon's call, even though it cannot answer."

Another twinge tensed her body, and he stepped even closer, sensing her distress.

"What's wrong?" Concern laced his voice, his hand so close to her she could feel his heat despite the breeze.

"The moon is still nearly full, and the magic does not suppress the wolf entirely, causing me mild discomfort."

"That was not mild, and I thought wolves were no longer slaves to the moon's pull?" he asked, his hand about to bridge the gap between them.

"Do not take this the wrong way, Andor, but do not touch me right now."

"Will you harm me?" he asked, not seeming to believe his theory.

"She has more carnal things in mind, not caring much for my comfort, and we do not have to give in to it every time, but nature needs to be respected," she admitted. "I've been resisting its call for a while."

"She, as if she is not part of you?" Although he didn't touch her, he didn't step away either.

His scent wafted in her face, his heat called like a furnace, and she had to clench her hands to stop herself from turning around and giving him more than he bargained for.

The wolf clawed at her to let go and allow nature to take its course, but she couldn't allow it.

"How can I leave you alone when I know you're in pain?" he asked.

"Fighting my wolf to stop her from attacking you is a far worse ache," she bit out, her fangs dropping, and no one had to tell her. Her eyes glowed golden yellow like those of her father.

"You just said she would not harm me," he reminded, *still not bloody moving away from her!*

"No, don't you understand? Drya wants to mate! You are a man; you're here and ours!" *Where did that possessive "ours" come from?*

This time shock probably kept him from reacting.

"Leave while you still can," she could barely force the words past her lips as her entire body tensed so she would not turn around and...

*No. Not yet,* she commanded.

"How can you tell a red-blooded man such a thing and then expect him to leave?"

The slight rasp to his voice nearly undid her control.

"Andor, please have mercy on me." She turned to shove him away, but instead, she found her hands pushed against his powerful chest as she stared into his eyes, mere inches from her, and her wolf escaped her control.

Instead of pushing him away, she pulled him closer, and then they kissed again.

Their chemistry was even more potent with the wolf in control and his arms locked around her. For a moment, she almost shrugged him off, wanting to be dominant, but something happened as the wolf capitulated only slightly, accepting him.

When he didn't try to take control but kept the balance, she deepened the kiss until she couldn't tell if they were one person or two.

Someone knocked on the outside door as his hands fiddled with the laces of that fabulous blood dress, although the hoops had been removed, and it flowed against her.

She stilled.

"What did you hear?" he was not too passion drugged to notice.

"We can't do this, and someone's at the door," she had gained control over the wolf, but it fought valiantly until she reminded it of the events in the garden and what would happen if someone saw them alone in this room.

It howled piteously inside her as it settled back into place, and she wanted to howl too.

"Please?" For a moment, she thought he wouldn't listen to her, but he leaned in to kiss her almost sweetly before letting go.

"It was nice to meet Drya formally. Next time we will spend a little more time together," he teased, disappearing through the door, and she froze.

*He did not just say that. Did he?* She expected her wolf to make him uncomfortable and maybe even fearful, but he accepted her for what she was, a part of her.

Mate! Drya yipped happily, and Derya almost mentally strangled her, but her animosity changed nothing about the wolf's elation.

Human. Derya reminded, and the wolf grew silent.

"You have got to be faeing daft," she admonished herself, going to answer the door before someone grew suspicious.

***

She slid back the bar and swung open the door to stare at Bailey, and the princess didn't have to say anything, nor did she have to explain herself. Her white nightshirt peeked out from underneath her cloak, and she had her pillow.

"Come," she said impatiently, and a more petite figure appeared behind Bailey, his hair bedraggled and his nightclothes all twisted the wrong way, dragging his pillow like a dead deer.

Troy had been asleep across the foot of Argana's bed earlier, and she hadn't wanted to disturb him.

She had barely closed the door behind him when someone knocked again. With so many servants, staff, and guards coming and going, she didn't recognize the scent and opened the door.

For a moment, she thought it was Safiya, but Safiya had been locked in the tower.

"What do you want?" she asked, and something glinted, reflecting the oil lamp in the corridor before the woman stepped forward.

She didn't expect something to bump her hard just below her ribcage as she stared into those eyes that were not Safiya's eyes. Only as the blade slipped up inside her chest did she realize what it was, but even as she gasped in shock, the woman twisted it and pulled it free.

She stared at the red-coated blade. In the other room, someone screamed as if they were in intense pain, but she couldn't make a sound. The woman smiled vindictively, turned, and ran off.

Derya stepped back and stared down at the dark liquid flowering around the gaping tear in her dress. As she stumbled, small hands tried valiantly to keep her upright, but she couldn't make a sound.

"Guards!" the boy shouted, startling her from her stupor, and pain ripped through her insides as her hand instinctively tried to hold the wound closed, but it did not help as her life essence escaped through her fingers.

Bailey came from the other room, barely able to walk, and as the girl reached her, the world swiveled sideways, and both collapsed onto their knees.

Her ears rang like bells, and she couldn't focus.

*We're dying,* the wolf said. If we had stayed with our prince, *we would not be slipping into the cold dark.*

"What happened?" the guard yelled, almost slipping on the pool of wine red reflecting the hallway's light.

"Sum woman stabbed 'er. Call the prince, you daft fool!" the terrified boy yelled.

"Derya?" Bailey tried to get her attention, but her voice came from a long way off as an uncomfortably warm hand touched her midsection, but she was too far gone even to answer.