Page 61 of Wolves’ Witch

Chapter Thirty

Edmond stomped down the stairs, his cock so hard he could have used it as a battering ram, but he had no regrets. Watching their mate come apart under his hands and Aubert’s mouth had filled him with a satisfaction he had never thought possible. So responsive beneath their touch, she had been hungry for their attention. The surprise on her face when Aubert had dipped his head between her thighs and licked her… As though no man had ever offered her such delights. Not even her betrothed.

If ever he were to come across that warlock again—and he hoped he would—Edmond would have a thing or two to say to him. With the point of his sword. How could a beautiful, generous woman like their Bella not inspire the devotion of the man she had planned to marry? Humans. They did not deserve the likes of her. He and Aubert would make sure Isobella knew how special she was. How cherished. In and out of the bedchamber. He grinned. Or the training room.

Edmond strode into the hall, his brother on his heels and Isobella but a few steps behind with the broken laces of her dress tied as best she could. Aimon focused on the wine in front of him. D’Artagnon dropped a kiss on Constance’s head, and his mate flushed. Ulrik made no effort at all to hide his smirk, while Remi looked around the table, frowning. The boy was smart enough to know something important was transpiring, but without werewolf senses he would be at a loss as to what. Edmond would not be the one to enlighten him.

And Gaharet… Gaharet sat at the head of the table, his astute stare boring into them. Edmond’s wolf hovered close to the surface, preparing for a fight. Gaharet could not, would not, forbid them from being together, and he would tell his alpha so. Right. Now.

Gaharet steepled his hands in front of him, tapping his chin. “I am pleased to see the three of you have come to an understanding, and while I would have liked to give you more time to…bond, we have matters we must deal with.”

Edmond opened his mouth to voice his— He snapped it shut. Gaharet was not angry? He…approved? Satisfaction gleamed in Gaharet’s eyes, matched only by the smug expression on Erin’s face. Their alpha was accepting them both as Isobella’s mates? Aubert was as astonished as he was.

Edmond searched the faces of everyone at the table. Not a hint of reproach, not a suggestion any of them were unhappy with the situation.

“You have taken on a challenge, Isobella,” said Ulrik. “One can only hope Aubert and Edmond will be less grumpy now. Especially Aubert.”

Aubert snarled, and Edmond drew a flushed Isobella into the protection of his arms.

Rebekah punched Ulrik’s arm. “Leave her alone. Isobella, ignore him. He’s just teasing. He can’t help himself.”

Ulrik rubbed his arm in mock pain. “Do I need to take you in hand, woman?”

Rebekah snorted. “You wish.”

Gaharet cleared his throat. “Edmond, Aubert, Isobella.” Gaharet gestured to seats at the table. “Remi has found Didier and the warlock. There has been no sighting of the witch Cordelia yet. Remi has people still searching. And it seems the Comtesse is not only colluding with Faucher and Cordelia. Lothair has sent word Lance has been sneaking into Langeais Keep to see her.”

Edmond froze in the act of sitting. “Lance has been in Langeais Keep? Lothair will string his guards up by the innards for letting him through the gates.”

Consternation settled on Gaharet’s face like a familiar friend. “I doubt he is coming in through the front gate. He is using the tunnel.”

“He would still have to pass through the postern gate,” Ulrik pointed out. “And how did he know about the tunnel? I only found it by following the traces of your scent.”

“What tunnel?” asked Aimon.

Edmond raised an eyebrow at Aubert. His twin shrugged. They knew of no tunnel.

“There is a tunnel leading from the storerooms beneath the wall of the keep. It comes out near the postern gate,” said Gaharet. “Lothair must not know of it, or he would have had it sealed up.”

“Lance knew about Didier. And Cordelia. I would bet my best sword he knew about the tunnel, too.” Lance was the oldest of them all. He had witnessed and been a party to many things they had not. “Age does have its advantages.”

“The question is, what are we going to do about it?” Ulrik pushed aside his untouched goblet of wine. “We have enemies on all fronts. Lance, Cordelia, this warlock from the twenty-first century. The comtesse and her chevaliers from House Allard. Faucher. We may have reconciled with Lothair, but that could change. He is unpredictable at best.”

“We handle them one at a time,” said Farren, Kathryn’s father and the voice of reason and experience. “There is no favorable outcome if we spread our forces too thin. We use what we have at our disposal to even the odds.”

Aimon shook his head. “We cannot risk exposing our true natures.”

Edmond would like nothing more than to turn wolf and hunt their enemies down, but Aimon was right. Exposing their secret would only aid their enemies. And Faucher would be ready for them.

“You are thinking as a werewolf, not a chevalier,” said Farren. “Lothair will not tolerate Lance sneaking in to see his wife. My guess is he is turning the keep upside down searching for that tunnel as we speak. When he finds it, he will destroy it.”

“And I will eat my soiled gambeson if he has not confined the comtesse to her chambers,” said Ulrik.

“And banished the House Allard chevaliers from his keep,” added Edmond.

“Lance will know something is amiss.” Gaharet leaned back in his chair. “He will avoid Langeais for a time. Mayhap he already is. Until recently, he had never made a direct move against us. When he did, it did not work out so well for him. Newly turned she-wolves and a farmer’s pitchfork had him fleeing. His body was not the only thing wounded. That he is using the comtesse like he used Archeveque Renaud suggests he is avoiding direct confrontation.”

“Don’t forget he used Cordelia’s spell,” said Erin. “Chances are, if we were to find him, we would find Cordelia.”