Unleashed (2 page)

“I tell no tales,” the man returned, giving Aaron a measuring look. “Our lord is Baron Wulfgar Socton, and he is very much a real man. His wife died a few years ago while he was fighting for the king during the southern lords’ rebellion. Rumors have it that he had her killed because she’d bewitched him. Others say wolves killed her at his order. That family has a way with beasts. Legend says they were cursed 200 years ago.” The man’s broad shoulders shrugged as if he didn’t believe such talk. “If you get caught out in the storm, I don’t know if he’ll give you refuge. He doesn’t hold with people who are so foolish.”

“Nonsense,” Bettina exclaimed. “My husband told you our horses are strong. I want to get home immediately. Heinrich, let’s leave. This place is full of ignorant peasants who are trying to frighten us into staying so they can take more of our money.”

She rose with a dramatic gesture, knocking her bowl to the floor. Bits of stew splattered onto her skirt.

“Amanda,” she screeched. “Look at this. My best traveling skirt. It’s absolutely ruined.”

Hurrying around her brother’s seat and the blacksmith, Amanda crouched down. For a moment, she pretended to study the stains. In reality, she relished the warmth of the fire. Finally, she looked up.

“I can get them out,” she announced.

“That’s a good girl,” Heinrich beamed.

With an unladylike snort, his wife swept toward the door, knocking a rising Amanda against the blacksmith. Concerned, he caught her arms before she could fall.

“All right, miss?” he asked worriedly.

Like everyone else in the inn, he had obviously noticed how her family had treated her. He had seen how Bettina, having finished her stew, had demanded what was in Amanda’s bowl. He shot an angry glance at her father, but the man was prodding his son to his feet.

“I’m all right,” she replied. “Thank you. Is the snow supposed to be very bad, sir?”

“Now, Amanda,” Aaron began with a frown, finally standing. “Don’t encourage them.”

The blacksmith scowled at her brother before gentling his expression toward the young woman.

“It’s an early blizzard, miss. Those are always bad. They can last three days, making travel nearly impossible for another three or four.”

“See?” Aaron told her. “Like Bettina said, they’re simply trying to frighten us into staying.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to stay the night just in case, Father?” she suggested, turning to her father. “If the storm isn’t that bad, then we could leave early in the morning. The horses would be fresh and we would make up the distance.”

For a brief moment, he appeared to consider his daughter’s words of common sense. In the hall, though, Bettina shouted for them to hurry up as she wanted to get home. Heinrich stiffened and sent his offspring a hard look.

“Move along. Your mother’s waiting.”

He and Aaron left the table.

“Stepmother,” muttered Amanda, then flushed when the blacksmith grinned at her. “Sorry,” she murmured. “That was very rude of me.”

She hurried after her father and brother, but couldn’t resist expanding her mind to hear what they said after their departure. The blacksmith watched her, scowling. The innkeeper joined him.

“They wouldn’t listen?”

“No. The husband is ruled by his wife. His wife is spoiled. The son is lazy. The daughter has sense but is gentle.”

“And if they have to seek shelter at the Beast’s Lair?”

“Like steel, a woman strengthens for the challenge or breaks in the fire,” the blacksmith replied. The two men exchanged worried, knowing glances. “God help her.”

****

Back in the carriage, Amanda pulled her legs up under her, tucking her petticoat and skirt close, and huddled back in her cloak. Her hood nearly covered her head as she curled up in the corner. In the opposite corner of the carriage, Bettina had taken all the blankets yet continued to complain about the cold. Aaron joined the spoiled woman, hoping to garner some approval from her, and a share of the blankets.

Opposite Amanda, Heinrich gazed out the window, silent and defeated.

The words of the blacksmith echoed in her mind. What challenges would she face in the future? Would she strengthen? Or would she break? A shiver went through her as images flashed in her mind—Aaron lying in snow, a piano, a large four-poster bed of dark wood, and then a man with dark hair who as he turned to face her became a wolf. Squeezing her eyes closed, she pressed her cheek against the rough wool of her hood and prayed that she would have strength.

Thirty minutes of arduous walking for the horses passed. Through the window flap, Amanda saw the first flurries and felt her stomach tighten so much she thought she might be ill. Controlling her breathing, she realized it wasn’t fear, but anticipation. She knew the feeling, although it had never been this strong. Something was going to happen. Her life was about to change. Something even more momentous than her mother dying, her best friend Elise surviving the fever that spring, or her father marrying Bettina—something was about to happen. This time the feeling was more intense, tugging her heart. A quiver swept through her body. Knowing better than to fight it, she looked calmly at the others in the carriage, wondering how their lives would also be affected.

Her eyes went to her brother Aaron. So much about him had changed. She didn’t understand how he could have done some of the things he’d done. Things she was fairly certain their father didn’t know about. If it hadn’t been for Karl… Amanda shivered and knew with a certainty she wouldn’t be able to explain that Aaron would not survive whatever was about to occur. She bit her lip, knowing better than to say anything.

Amanda looked at her father. All her life, he had refused to acknowledge what Amanda’s mother could do, what she had inherited from her. Her mother had taught her what she could without Heinrich knowing. Although otherwise indulgent, he absolutely did not accept anything he could not see, touch, taste, or feel. It was, she knew, the lawyer in him. She could see his strength, but something was holding him back from using it.

Aaron was now squabbling with Bettina about the blankets. Bettina. A vision of the woman smiling up at her husband as he gently patted her rounded stomach filled Amanda’s eyes. Stunned Amanda stared at her stepmother. Bettina had voiced her determination not become pregnant, yet Amanda’s visions had not been wrong yet. And the expressions on their faces had been soft, tender and loving. Nothing like what Amanda had seen from either of them since before their wedding day.

Her eyes went to her father, gazing out the window then back at the woman seated next to him. He caught her movement and faced her.

“What do you feel?” he whispered. “Tell me.”

Startled at his question, Amanda looked at him but, for once, didn’t hide the calm certainty she felt. She could see the fear in his eyes, as well as the need to know.

“Things are going to change, Papa,” she whispered. “For all of us.”

He nodded and, without another word, turned back to the window. She considered his response. He had never reacted that way before and, much as the growing anticipation stirred her, she wondered at it. What could have caused the change in him? He’d never reacted so calmly when she had gotten the feeling that something was about to happen. He’d always scoffed at her, belittled her feelings. Maybe what was about to happen was so strong he felt it and realized the hopelessness of resisting it. Then again, he had never asked her about her visions.

Amanda glanced from brother to father, realizing that her brother had never mentioned Amanda’s or her mother’s abilities. What they could feel or sense. She saw the acknowledgement in her father’s eyes. With a quick look at his son, Heinrich turned to look out the glass window.

Amanda reeled from waves of sensation that nearly made her nauseous. Had her mother seen this? Had her mother seen and told her father? Did he know what was going to happen? Or a possibility of what could be? Fighting back the need to ask him questions she knew he would refuse to answer, Amanda turned her gaze to the window.

The two of them watched the flakes swirl down faster and thicker. They felt the carriage slow even more as the horses struggled against the wind and tried to maintain their footing. Suddenly their conveyance came to a stop.

Amanda heard the driver’s shout and felt the shift behind her as Jenkins jumped down. She closed her eyes, remembering the blacksmith’s words. The horse was lame. They would have to seek shelter at the Beast’s Lair.

In the distance a wolf howled.

Chapter Two

“My lord?” The calm voice of his butler came from the bedroom door.

“Yes, Anders?”

Seated in a leather chair, Wulfgar looked up from the account book.

“There’s a carriage here, my lord,” the butler told him. “The footman says one of their horses has gone lame. The family requests shelter from the blizzard.”

“Family?” The nobleman scowled as his gaze went to the window and saw the wind-flung snow.

“A married couple, his son and daughter, my lord.”

“What kind of fool takes his family out when there’s an early blizzard on the way?” he wondered.

“I’m sure you’ll see why,” Anders replied calmly.

Lord Wulfgar Socton sighed. Nodding, he got to his feet, closing the ledger book. He had hoped that the storm would prevent any intrusions, giving him time to fully review all the books brought from his distant properties. It appeared that wish would not be granted. As he made his way toward the door, he felt a tingling in his mind. A hint of expectancy that he had last felt as a young man when he’d thought he’d found the woman of his dreams. Only later, he accepted the harsh realization that his bride was not who he thought and he had walked into a trap.

It didn’t matter that the marriage had kept him from having to deal with the family curse. He’d been tricked, and that fact rubbed him raw.

Reaching the door, he followed Anders down the wide corridor. Generations of Socton lords and their ladies looked down on him. He glanced at the portrait of his grandfather, silently asking for his guidance. At the top of the grand staircase, he heard a strident feminine voice. Anders winced and glanced at him anxiously.

Wulfgar moved deliberately down the center of the treads, observing the people in the entryway. Off to the right, he could hear Mrs. Anders, the housekeeper, directing maids to ready three bedrooms and sending word to the chef that there would be four more for dinner.

“Georg will be thrilled,” Anders murmured about their temperamental chef.

In the center of the hall, a young woman stood berating a stoic gentleman. Wulfgar guessed him to be fifteen years older than himself, and surmised that he was the husband foolish enough to take his family out into the impending storm. To Wulfgar’s left, a young man in his early twenties studied various
objets d’art
that Soctons had collected for several centuries. Wulfgar’s eyes narrowed as the man picked one up to examine it. He glanced at Anders.

“Keep an eye on the younger man,” he murmured.

Anders nodded. “Of course, my lord.”

Reaching the lower landing, Wulfgar searched the hall for the fourth member of the family. A shadow shifted near the door, drawing his attention. The daughter, he deduced, realizing she was trying to avoid the attention of the arguing couple. As if sensing his approach, the shadow moved forward, coalescing into a young woman. A slender hand pushed the hood of her cloak off her head, and she looked up. The collision of their gazes struck Wulfgar like the body blow he’d taken in his last battle. He absorbed the gentle strength in the golden-brown eyes and felt her calm surround him.

****

Amanda knew she was staring but couldn’t help it. It was the face in her vision. Pale blue eyes gleamed in the lamplight from a face that looked like it had been carved from stone. His black hair gleamed more like the fur of the animal he’d been named for. This was a man of strength. The blacksmith’s words came back to her. He had served the king, fought in the last wars, and lost his wife, supposedly had her killed. Gazing into the steady eyes, she knew that this man would not have had his wife murdered, nor harmed her himself. No, she sensed, this man would see that as a great sign of weakness. And there was none of that in him. However the woman had died, it had not been because of her husband.

“Why didn’t you insist on going on?” Bettina shrieked at Heinrich. “I want to get home and see my mother!”

Flinching at the harsh words and tone directed at her father, Amanda watched the man on the stairs turn his gaze from her to them. She saw the scowl on his face and prayed that he wouldn’t cast them all out into the storm. She compared the composed power of the man who continued toward them with her father. Had her father always been so weak? The disloyal thought flashed through her mind, and she closed her eyes. No, but he had been lonely, she admitted. And that realization helped her understanding of him. And, she started, her gaze returning to the man descending the staircase, it could be applied to the lord.

The tall, broad-shouldered man reached the fifth step from bottom of the stairs.

“Baron Wulfgar Socton,” announced the butler behind him.

The hall echoed with the sudden silence as Bettina stopped mid-word. Aaron turned from the second table and moved to stand by his father and Bettina. Heinrich drew himself up and nodded at the nobleman. Amanda caught her breath, knowing that her father should have bowed. Lord Socton stiffened at the insult.

“My lord,” he began. “I am Guild Master Heinrich von Steinser. I apologize for the intrusion, but my family and I request shelter until the storm ends.”

“Did you go through Gerdenstau?” Socton inquired in a deep voice, referring to the town where they’d stopped and dined.

“We did, my lord.”

“And no one there warned you about the storm?” His scowl deepened. “Or did you ignore their warnings?”

“We thought we could complete the journey to Dachenstein,” Heinrich answered defensively. “From there, it is but one day’s travel to our home. My wife is most anxious to be home amongst her own things.”

“Indulging one’s wife is understandable,” the baron intoned, eyes sweeping the four and lingering on Amanda. “Foolishly endangering one’s family is beyond the pale.”