Blood Curse (Pulse #8) (20 page)

“Well done!” Grandfather said, smiling and coming over to put an arm around my shoulders. “Who knew this would be the day when the Minotaur is slain. And by Logan, our youngest wolf.” He beamed proudly while he turned me to face my Father, Jacob, and Paris. Father smiled widely while Jacob and Paris kept a straight face. The only sign of emotions I could see in their faces was a twitch around the corner of Jacob’s lips. He did not congratulate me nor did he say anything stupid like he always did to tease me like he did growing up.

“That was pretty brave,” Paris finally said, clapping me on the shoulders.

“I would not think less of it,” Grandfather said proudly. “Logan not only has the strength of the old Feyland Wolves, he has the heart.”

I blushed, embarrassed by Grandfather’s praises in front of Jacob and Paris. Unlike me, Jacob and Paris were Feyland Wolves who had spent most of their lives in Feyland, like Grandfather did. Although they had human blood in them, they detested being more human than fairy, and refused to be raised by human mothers in the Land Beyond the Crystal River.

As I glanced over at Jacob, I could see he did not like that I had bested him over the Minotaur, winning the favor of Grandfather. At nineteen, he was older than me, and he should have been the one to take down a Minotaur. I knew that thought was in his heart. I wished it was he who should have been the victor rather than I, for he was the one who wanted to be Grandfather’s favorite grandson. At the moment, all I wanted to do was get this Wolves meeting over with so I can return home to Gregory, Oregon to prepare for Breena’s birthday, not fight Minotaurs, not get involve in petty jealousy politics…

As though Father could read my thoughts, he cleared his throat and said, “We better head back to the cave. The meeting with the other wolf clans will be starting soon. We wouldn’t want to be late for our own meeting, right?”

Grandfather nodded. “Yes, the meeting…that darn meeting.” He looked squarely at my Father, his son, the big bad wolf lawyer, and said, “Well Counselor, what do I say? It is time to make the decision…”

Father answered back. “You do what you think is best for the Wolf Fey, Father, like you’ve always have.” Then all five of us shifted forms and started running back to the cave.

I knew it would be a difficult decision for Grandfather, having known the sovereignty of both fairy courts – Winter and Summer, having forged a friendship with both courts for wolves to travel back and forth without hindrance through Winter and Summer territories. Knowing Grandfather, he would have preferred to keep it as so, but the tides of change will force his hand soon, and it will mean I will have to join him in Feyland for however long I do not know. Father had already joined Grandfather more or less, only returning back to Gregory to see Mother and I once a month, and now having been the one to defeat a Minotaur, I could see Grandfather thinking about my future in the Wolf Fey. No doubt he thought I would be the Champion… the strongest and fiercest wolf in Feyland, the one who would bring magic back to the Wolf Fey. The problem is, my heart was in Gregory with Breena, and at the moment, I could not see a future without her.

Chapter 5

The Promise

T
he wolves from the different clans of Feyland have gathered at Grandfather’s home, a large cave the size of a manor house with all the amenities of one, too. Because Feyland Wolves were not wolves, but rather werewolves, they needed human comforts like rooms, furniture, and everything human in a home. I was not selective about furnishings by any means, but I was glad Grandfather’s palace was nicely furnished. It reminded me that I was more human than wolf.

Grandfather walked in, followed by Father, Jacob, Paris, and I. “Sorry, we were late,” he bellowed, taking the head seat of a large oak table. Father took the seat next to him, and I took the seat across from Father. Jacob and Paris did not take a seat, but situated themselves at the back of the great hall near the door.

Already situated at the table were the Wolf Clan leader of the South, Deacon, a man in his fifties with blue eyes and yellowish-blonde hair, and across from him, the Wolf Clan leader of the North, Balthazar, a man in his mid-twenties, tanned like myself, but with pale blue eyes, and dark wavy hair. If he did not have a scar from a deep cut plaster across his face like a gruesome reminder of a battle he escaped with his life, he would be what girls at school would call movie star handsome. Remembering my conversation with Father about Balthazar’s tricky ways, I could not care less about the way he looked right now. Rather, I was concentrating on what he would do. For all the magic in the world, for all the enchantment that being a wolf fairy had, I could sense danger and death in the air. And the scent was strongest at the table.

“So, let us get this meeting started,” Grandfather said in his gruff wolfish voice. “I did not wish to have this meeting, but since the fate of Feyland has come to this, we must face the possibility that we, the wolves, would be dragged into this darn war.”

“Yes,” Deacon said. “It is inevitable now, isn’t it?” He slammed his fist down on the hard oak table. “They have forced us to take a side…the Winter and Summer fairies. As of right now, the Winter fairies have encroached upon our forests, cutting down trees to use as weapons and firewood and driving the animals that we hunt away.”

His eyes flashed as he spoke with heated passion. “My people are being forced to leave our home in order to hunt for food. Families are being torn apart as parents leave their children behind for days to go on a hunt that now takes them away for days.” He stood up. “Your Highness,” he addressed Grandfather. “We must choose sides now – Winter or Summer, fight with one so that we can keep our lands, our home from the other.”

“Why side with the seasonal fairies, Winter and Summer?” Balthazar spoke in his surprisingly deep voice. “Why not side with the Pixies? They have claimed the lands of Feyland long before the Winter and Summer fairies. According to them, all of Feyland is rightfully theirs. If we side with them, we will have certain advantages.”

“No!” Grandfather said, standing up. “I will not bring my people into this war. Do you understand the costs of war?” Grandfather turned to Deacon. “You think your forests are devastated now, wait until you see how the trees, the grass, the whole forest, your home will look after a war. And families? You think families being torn apart by a hunt taking parents away from their children for days is cause enough for joining the war? Wait until you see the war orphans – instead of a few days without their parents, they are forever torn apart from their parents because of war. ”

“I can understand your need to keep the wolves out of the war,” Balthazar calmly said. “Have you thought of the advantages we will have when we join? The Pixies offer riches beyond belief. They promise us more land, more bounty. If you choose the seasonal fairies, the Winter Queen has the advantage. Her army of Winter Knights are cold, unemotional, and strong. If we are going to choose a winner for this war, I would side with the Winter Court…but apparently you prefer
status quo
. That is how it has always been, right, old man?” Balthazar looked away from Grandfather’s face in disgust.

Grandfather blinked as Balthazar stood up. “Old man?” Grandfather repeated.

“Yes,” Balthazar said. “Old. Man. Ahh, I meant. Your Highness.” His voice had turned cold. It was clear how he hated Grandfather and disagreed with the Wolf King’s rule.

Balthazar and Deacon exchanged looks before both took out daggers from underneath their shirts. I moved as fast as I can, getting in front of Balthazar on his way to Grandfather, but Deacon had already made quick long strides to Grandfather’s side. There was a swishing of air, and Grandfather fell forward, his eyes in shock. I caught him in my arms, while Father, Jacob, Paris, and other men of our clan fought Deacon and Balthazar.

I recovered from my shock quickly, and was angered beyond reason. As I saw the traitorous Deacon and Balthazar trying to flee, I wanted to join the fight. But Grandfather’s hand clamped down on my arm. “Logan,” he gasped, trying to talk.

“We have to heal you,” I said. “I don’t know how. Fairies are supposed to know how. We’re fairies, us wolves. Can we heal you?”

Grandfather tried to pull himself up in my arms to whisper in my ear. I leaned down, placing my ear near his mouth. “Logan…our fairy blood is dying. Generations of mixing human blood with wolf fey has diminished our fairy magic. I am afraid we cannot perform fairy healing.”

“No, but we have to find you help, Grandfather,” I said on the verge of panic.

“Logan, I am old, I do not have much time. I must tell you something important that you must promise not to tell anyone.”

I swallowed. “Of course, Grandfather. I promise.”

Grandfather nodded. “Because you are the youngest of our clan, you are our chance, our hope. Your father married a human – your mother, no offense – but this diluted our fey blood. Without fairy blood in the next generation, the magic that helps us shift will fade until we will be trapped in one form forever.” Grandfather coughed, and I can see the strain in his eyes as he fought back unbelievable pain. His stabbing by Deacon was deep in the chest near the heart. Seeing the gaping hole in Grandfather’s chest overrun with blood that soaked through his shirt, hit me in the guts. Father and I knew Grandfather would die one day, but I was not prepared for it to be today. Tears I did not know I had rolled down my cheeks until they fell on Grandfather’s chest, mixing with his red blood.

I tried to compose myself for Grandfather to continue. “What will happen when there is no fairy blood in us?” I asked.

“We will remain in wolf form permanently,” Grandfather faintly said. “Promise me, Logan, that you will not let that happen…that you will find yourself a fairy woman to marry and have children with so our clan will continue as fey.”

My heart dropped. Marry a fairy woman? How could I promise Grandfather this when I loved only one girl - Breena, who was human? I struggled to say something when Grandfather spoke again.

“It is vital for our clan to exist in Feyland, Logan… this fairy blood.”

“I know,” I said, picturing Breena’s face in my mind, remembering how she felt in my arms, how I felt when she looked at me with those direct lavender eyes. How could I say “good-bye” to her? I loved her more than life itself.

As Grandfather’s breathing became more labored, his voice ragged, “Your father will be King, and you will be the Wolf Prince when I am gone.” He weakly patted my hand. “You were always my favorite grandson. You must be proud of being a wolf. Be proud of who you are, Logan. One day you will be a good and strong ruler. And you must do what is best for our people.”

“I promised, Grandfather,” I croaked, my throat suddenly feeling parched. With his last breath, my heart shattered into a tiny million pieces for losing the Grandfather I loved dearly and for giving up the girl who owned my heart.

Chapter 6

The New King

F
ather had avenged Grandfather. Still holding Grandfather’s body in my arms, with tears in my eyes, I saw Father shift back into a man. On the ground at his feet was the body of a large yellow wolf with its throat torn out. Deacon.

I have almost liked Deacon, have admired his devotion to his people and even once looked up to him as an elder. It was hard seeing him beaten. Dead. It was hard seeing anyone dead, although I’ve seen quite a handful.

But in Deacon’s death, Grandfather’s death was avenged.

Father bent down and cut off a piece of pelt from Deacon’s body. Then he handed it to me. “This is from the traitor who killed the Wolf King, your grandfather. Wear it proudly to let those know you have avenged your grandfather. Now the Wolf King can rest in peace.”

I took the still-warm pelt and placed it over my shoulder. Father took Grandfather from me and laid him down on the oak table. Father, who lived in Feyland and Gregory, said a prayer for Grandfather before he called the rest of the clan together.

Jacob and Paris came in dragging a bloody and bruised Balthazar. “What should we do with him?” they asked Father.

“We’ll wait and hear from the rest of the clan, shall we?” Father asked Balthazar. “You and your friend just killed the Wolf Fey’s beloved Wolf King. Think that is going to sit well with his people?”

“You might as well kill me now,” Balthazar said proudly, staring down at the ground before him.

“That was what I thought,” Father said. He clapped, and the doors open, letting in a large group of Feyland wolves. When the last of the Wolf clan staggered in, Father made an announcement:

“The Wolf King, my father, was murdered. I am now the Wolf King, and Logan is the Wolf Prince.” Startled looks and even weeping filled the cave as the reality that my beloved Grandfather, the former Wolf King was dead. Then there was a roar of approval, as they shouted, “Long live our new Wolf King and the Wolf Prince. Long live the Wolves of the Feyland Forests.” Along the shouts of approval, came shouts of anger. “Death to the murderers!”

Genuine approval shone in each wolf’s eyes as they realized they still have a leader capable of keeping them safe and well-fed. I stood by Father’s side, with Deacon’s pelt, his skin on my shoulders, standing straight and tall. “For now,” Father went on, “we are not part of this Winter and Summer war, you can thank our former Wolf King for that. As for the punishment, what do you suggest as punishment for plotting and then killing the former Wolf King? Should I have leniency or should the punishment be death?”

The sounds of struggling and fighting was heard in the back of the great hall as all eyes turned to the spot where Jacob, Paris, and Balthazar were standing. Instead of seeing all three young men, the spot was empty. Father shook his head in disgust. Jacob, Paris, and Balthazar were all part of the assassination plot. Now they had disappeared into the night.