Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Don’t upset him again, or I will make you regret it. There. Now we’re both threatening each other.”
He smirks at me. “Your session isn’t until tomorrow, but I feel as though we are getting an early start on it.”
CHAPTER 14
Armand
Antoine is practically vibrating with excitement as we enter my office. He is usually so restrained, with the boredom of life that sometimes comes to those who have lived a lot of it and ceased to be surprised. I have the feeling something has surprised Antoine.
“I have news, Maître. I think the mystery of your mate’s origin has been resolved.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Maitre. Really. You might want to sit down. I’m afraid there’s strange news to be heard.”
I don’t sit down. I look at him, expecting him to make it quick. He does not make it quick.
“I found the director’s records. That’s the first bit of news, and the best. He secreted them away in a bank vault in Paris. There was quite a bit of information of various kinds in them. I’ve made copies, naturally, and added them to our archives.”
I try not to be overtly impatient. All I want to hear is what the deal with Beatrix is.
“Her family name was Rostova. She was orphaned because her parents both died in inter-pack aggression. The Russian packs were at war in the early two thousands, and that war was vicious, bitter, and violent. Females were not spared any more than males were. Her parents sent her away to safety, to family in Britain. But the family she was sent to were also killed, as were the people she was traveling with. She was found in a bloody crime scene, and taken to the orphanage, because she was judged to need a higher level of care than could be given in a foster home. They did not know her shifter heritage, but they knew she was not normal.”
It sounds like Beatrix’s trauma has always been clear. She wears it like armor. The Russian connection is also not entirely surprising, given that the director mentioned she had Siberian blood.
“Moreover, Maître, I can allay your second concern. The one around her virginity. I did some research, and there’s an ancient shifter pack—or was. They were wiped out in the wars. They’re noted in the history books because they had a specific mutation. Females of most shifter packs these days don’t gain the ability to shift until they’re bred. Some don’t even have the ability to properly hunt and kill once they do shift. They’re practically domesticated, more like dogs than wolves. We’ve all heard the stories out of the States.”
“Yes. And?” I am growing increasingly impatient as he seems intent on saving the best for last.
“This is the part that I find concerning, Maître. And so you know, I have not told anybody, nor will I, besides you.”
“Alright.”
“Females of this lost pack do not gain their ability to shift when they are mated by their fated mate for the first time. They gain their ability to shift when they first kill a man.”
He pauses to let that sink in. “She is not made wolf by merit of mating, of love. She is made wolf by merit of destruction, of committing an indelible sin that can never be forgiven.”
He is laying it on more than a little thick, but I get a sense of what he is implying.
“There have been killings in the village, Maître. And your mate has been growing ever more powerful. It is said that every time she shifts she seems larger and more powerful…”
I ignore the observation about her getting bigger when she shifts. It is interesting that he mentions it, not because it is true, but because clearly the pack has been talking about her, communicating with Antoine behind my back. It could be the usual gossip, or it could be something else.
“So she hasn’t been with anyone before me. She’s not been mated before. I was her first?”
“Maître, all due respect, her virginity or lack thereof is hardly the largest problem we face. The bloodline she comes from does not bestow shifting with the shedding of blood as some cute little quirk. The gift requires blood to maintain. She is not herself if she does not kill. And, to make matters worse, there is a decent chance that she will pass this undesirable trait onto any offspring you have. It would be a violation of the bloodline.”
I nod and compose myself. He wants me to be concerned; I want to dance with joy. She is mine, all mine. She was never touched, and she never will be.
“I don’t think you’re understanding the full ramifications of this, Maître.”
“Of course I understand. She is wired innately differently. We knew that already. But she has not caused any problems in the pack, has she? Throwing a bread roll at a man at dinner isn’t exactly a vicious, bloody attack. The only people she has killed has been in one form of defense or another, and all outside the pack.”