The Wolf’s Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(52)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

"Even die for something you did not do?" Wilkins shook his head. "Well, I believe the plan has worked out to our advantage, then."

Hollins and he nodded, and then Hollins put on his hat. "Well, it seems I have a call to make to Bow Street. Wilkins will release your duchess once we have your hands tied."

Hunter nodded as Hollins went to Gwen’s hands and untied them. Hunter bent down to kiss her on the forehead, shielding her body and dropping the knife into her lap in the process.

Gwen jumped from her chair and lunged for Hollins, landing a blow to his face before spitting at him. He fell to the floor with a groan.

Hunter grabbed her and pulled her against him. "We do not have much time, Gwen."

She turned around and hugged him. Her face pressed against his chest and he realized this might very well be the last time he had her in his arms.

How he loved her. How he wished he could do more, but the funny thing about pasts was they always had a tendency to repeat themselves, and for once in his life he was given a choice. And he chose her.

Chapter Thirty-one

Wolf—

What will I do when I no longer wake up next to you? How can my heart continue to beat when it no longer knows the rhythm of its soul mate? I feel lost in the woods and there is no trail, no wolf, to lead me home.

—Red

Gwen grabbed Hunter’s hand, held it within her own, and closed her eyes. Minutes, seconds, tiny fragments of time with the man she loved. And all because of one man’s greed, she was having everything taken from her. Everything she cared about, everything she loved, she was touching.

And she was losing him.

With a sob she threw her arms around his neck and memorized his smell, the way his strong arms felt around her. She wasn’t stupid. They were not only outnumbered, but she had no weapon save the knife. Even if Hunter did, that meant he could easily shoot one man but endanger her in the process. There wasn’t enough time to come up with a different plan other than sacrifice. She wasn’t worth it, yet she knew she would do the same for him; therefore by not allowing it, she was stealing what peace he could offer her. She would be throwing his love back in his face.

"I love you," she whispered in his ear. "Hunter, my Wolf."

"Red." He choked. "My Gwen, I love you, more than you will ever know."

But she knew, she saw it in his eyes, saw the pain it took for him to hold her close, knowing it might be the last time. Pain seized her heart as she kissed him one last time.

"Time’s up." Hollins jerked Hunter out of Gwen’s arms and began pushing him toward the exit just as another figure approached the door from the other side.

"What have we here?"

Gwen gasped.

"Ash." Hunter exhaled, made a motion with his hands to his brother that Gwen did not quite understand, and then ducked as Ash punched Hollins in the face. Hunter returned to Gwen’s side and shielded her with his body.

Wilkins was yelling. Gwen looked up to see a wheeled chair appear in the doorway, and then Lainhart lifted his blanket, revealing his hand on the trigger of a blunderbuss as a shot rang out. And then silence.

Hunter removed himself from her body and examined Wilkins. "Direct shot into the head." He licked his lips and then looked to Lainhart. "You shot a blunderbuss with one hand."

"He’s a crack shot," Ash answered, hitting Hollins one more time, rendering him completely unconscious.

****

Hunter stared at his grandfather. He knelt in front of him and shook his head. "Why did you come? I don’t understand?" He looked up at Ash, who seemed to have aged over the years.

He grinned and patted Lainhart on the back. "I’ve been his butler for the past two months. The minute I heard you were back in town, I returned."

Hunter pulled his brother into a hug and fought the urge to cry. "I thought you dead."

"I deserved death."

"No." Hunter jerked back and stared into his brother’s green eyes. "No, you did not. You were doing what was right. You were going to expose him for what he truly was."

"I was a coward." Ash laughed bitterly. "I fled the minute Lucy died. I could not live with myself, did not want to live."

Oh, how Hunter knew the feeling. He slapped his brother on the back and sighed. "Let us discuss it later. Thank you. It seems you were not a second too late."

Ash laughed. Hunter noticed a piercing in Ash’s ear and then he pulled back his sleeves, exposing a small tattoo of an axe with the word Reaper on the handle. Ash had changed, that much was certain.

"Lainhart woke me." Ash pointed to Lainhart, who was at the moment examining his gun as if he did not believe he was able to shoot with one hand, either. "He began yelling and yelling — moaning is more like it. Finally, I knew something was wrong, and he showed me the chalkboard."

"—Saints alive, is that a dead body!"

"—Devil take me, I need a whiskey."

The noise all came from the same door Lainhart was blocking, where Montmouth and Dominique stood. Both men looked at Wilkins’ lifeless body in shock and then back to Hunter.

"How did you know where we were?" Hunter asked.

Dominique stepped around Lainhart and examined the room before pulling Gwen into a hug. "We received a note from Lainhart."

"Called in reinforcements, just in case, eh?" Hunter teased Lainhart. He shrugged and offered a smile before pointing to the gun. "Yes, I imagine you were worried about being able to shoot that beast on your own."

"’Bout stopped my heart," Ash admitted, giving Lainhart a pointed look.

"What the devil happened here, anyway? The note was vague. But it said to bring pistols. I thought I was going to get a chance to finally shoot you, Hunter," Montmouth joked.

Hunter glared. "Sorry to disappoint."

Montmouth waved him off. "It is only a matter of time, I assure you."

"Right."

Gwen came up beside Hunter, laid her head against his shoulder, and sighed. "May we go home now?"

Hunter took a look around. "Yes, I think we should. I have evidence to turn in."

Silence fell heavily upon everyone in the room as they stared at the scene. Two men — one dead, the other unconscious — and a roaring fire, as the morning sun peeked between the curtains into the room.

A fresh start. That was what it felt like, and then Hunter shook his head. "I do not believe it."

"What?" Gwen asked.

"What is the date?"

Dominique cleared his throat and spoke up. "It is May 31."