Page 50 of Wolves’ Witch

It should not surprise him that Anne, though not a werewolf, had the measure of what had happened in the training room. “He has.”

Anne abandoned her pot, slicing several slabs of meat from the haunch over the fire. She filled a plate and handed it to a servant girl. “Take that to our new guest.” The girl bobbed her head and disappeared. “You are concerned about her. And Aubert.”

Gaharet sighed and leaned on the bench. “I am uncertain how all this is going to play out. What it is going to do to the twins.”

Anne went back to her pot. “Fate will find its way. It will all work out as it is meant to. Like you and Erin, and all the others.”

Fate had not worked out so well for Aubert and Edmond last time. Nor Lance. Nor Godfrey.

The weight of Godfrey’s disappearance sat heavy on his mind. Kept him awake at night. That D’Artagnon was alive and home again went some way to easing the burden of leadership. And gave him hope for Godfrey. Speaking of… Gaharet searched the kitchen, finding no sign of the old wolf, Vladimir. The old Rus wolf had arrived with D’Artagnon and had chosen to stay. “Where is your faithful shadow?”

Anne snorted. “He will show his furry head soon enough. When he has a mind to.”

As if talking about him had summoned him, the door to the bailey opened and the grizzled wolf slunk in, a large hare in his jaws. He dropped it at Anne’s feet.

“Hmpf.” Anne scooped up the hare and slapped it on the bench. “At least you have brought me food for the pot. Something good has to come from you being under my feet all day.”

Gaharet cocked his head. “He brings you food?”

Anne grabbed a knife and cut a slit in the hare’s fur. “Fresh kills every day. Paying his way, I guess. So he should. He is one more mouth to feed.” She worked swiftly, skinning the animal. “I am not saying I do not appreciate it, mind, but the least he could do is skin and gut it. No, he kills it and leaves all the work for me.” With a deft slice of the blade, Anne sliced open the stomach and gutted the carcass. “But one needs hands to skin and gut a carcass, and the old fool has not shifted once since he came here.”

Every day? Gaharet narrowed his gaze on the old wolf. With his head on his paws, the old wolf stared up at Anne, and Gaharet could not fail to recognize it. That look. The one his father had had on his face every time he had looked at his mother. It was in Aubert’s eyes every time he looked at Isobella, though he tried to hide it. Edmond’s, too. Anne had accused him of having it when she had caught him staring at Erin. It was in Vladimir’s eyes now.

Anne was Vladimir’s mate.

Before he had a chance to let that truth sink in, Erin burst into the kitchen, his father’s journal clutched in her hand.

“There you are.” She slapped the journal onto the bench. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What are you smiling at?” She waved off any explanation. “Never mind, I’ve had an idea. Well, a thought really.”

Her face was flushed, and her eyes were bright. A sure sign his mate had made a discovery.

“I’ve been thinking about what you told me about Sabine and the twins.”

His cock twitched in his breeches. He loved seeing his mate like this. It had him wanting to throw her over his shoulder and disappear with her into their bedchamber and not resurface for days. Instead, he asked, “You found something in the journal?”

“Not about Edmond and Aubert. At least not yet. But remember that entry of your great grandfather’s, where he wrote about meeting Cordelia?”

Awareness tingled up his spine. This time it had nothing to do with his mate. “Go on.”

“Your great grandfather mentioned he was called away by a fight between two wolves over a she-wolf.” Erin opened the journal and flicked through the pages until she found the one she wanted. “Well, I looked into that fight. It turns out the two males fighting over the she-wolf were Montagnes. Twins.”

Gaharet stared at the slanted writing on the page. This had happened before?

“It didn’t end like it did with Aubert, Edmond and Sabine. Not at all. One twin conceded, letting the other take the she-wolf as his mate.”

Disappointment settled in his entrails. He had shared his concerns with his mate. Erin was an intelligent, educated woman, and she was from the same century as Isobella. He had hoped she would have some insight. Had hoped for a solution, but this was exactly how he imagined it would end with Isobella.

Erin held up her hand. “Wait. There’s more. The twin who bowed out, he never took a mate, but both twins continued to live in the same keep. With the she-wolf. And everybody lived happily ever after.”

Gaharet frowned. How was that possible? For the unmated twin, it would be… Gaharet could not imagine the struggle of having to watch your mate with another man. It had driven Lance to murder, though the woman he had wanted, Gaharet’s mother, had not been his mate at all.

“You’re wondering how it all worked. How they could be happy living like that, one twin mated, one not. Well, here’s the interesting thing.” Erin pointed to four lines of writing. “Your great-grandfather suspected the unmated twin hadn’t given up his chance of a mate at all. That behind closed doors, both twins had both claimed her as their mate.”

They had shared her?

“Your ancestor observed them for a time, and the she-wolf seemed happy”—Erin shrugged—“so he didn’t intervene.”

Gaharet scrubbed his face. Was it possible? Could Edmond and Aubert come to a similar understanding?

“Here’s what I’m thinking.” Erin’s eyes sparkled, her excitement barely contained. “Twins appear to be a thing with the Montagnes. I’m betting there’s been more than a few sets between now and the twenty-first century. What are the chances at least some of them have encountered the same problem as Aubert and Edmond? And made a similar choice as their ancestors? Isobella knows a lot about the Langeais wolves, Gaharet. Do you think she might already know of Montagne twins who share a mate?”