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He needed an anchor. He had been too long adrift without one. When the seasons cycled, he felt the surge of Nexus energy, and it pulled on him. He needed a companion to hold his mind in place, to tie him to this world, and to keep him from shifting into a bloodthirsty monster.
It was harder every season. Finding one the first time had been improbable. A second anchor? The statistics were grim.
Without a new anchor, he would soon lose himself completely to the monster.
If that happened, Luis Marechal was more than welcome to drive Blackthorn through Draven’s shriveled, undead heart.
Chapter One
Charlotte
Boxon Hill
Marechal House
It had been one year and a day since Charlotte buried her husband.
As chance had it, that was also the day Luis and Miles returned from their quest in the West Lands to find an ancient relic from the founders.
The entire household and then some gathered in the courtyard to welcome the returning travelers. Charlotte watched the crowd. A kitchen maid on her way back from the village had spotted Luis and Miles on the road and dashed back to Vervain Hall with the news. Charlotte, despite the setting sun, hurried up the hill to Marechal House.
The man who climbed off his horse and strode across the courtyard was not the unsure young man who left. Time and the trial of the journey had changed Luis, in more than physical appearance, but that had changed considerably, as well. His frame had filled out with thick, solid muscle, and exposure to the elements turned his complexion a golden tan.
Luis moved with confidence, and Charlotte hesitated to know exactly how many skirmishes had tested him along the way. Miles appeared equally worn, but he beamed at Luis like he hung the stars.
Pangs of envy went through Charlotte. She had fiercely believed that she could have been happy in her marriage, or happy enough, but Lionel had never looked at her with such devotion.
If he had, he would not have been a monster, after all.
Charlotte’s dear friend, Solenne, gripped her husband’s hand. Another happy match. Another monster anchored to their partner.
She pressed a handkerchief to the corner of her eyes and then mopped her brow to disguise her tears. The day had been unusually warm.
Solenne pointed to the sun disappearing behind the trees. “And what kind of time do you call this? You’re late.”
Luis crushed his sister into an embrace. Even from her distance, Charlotte smelled the distinct aroma of sweat, horse, and leather.
“Gah, you smell disgusting,” Solenne muttered, her face pressed into his chest.
“I missed you too,” Luis said. “Are you shorter?” He pushed her away, hands on her shoulders. “You’re shrinking. Must be all the magic. I do not approve.”
“It’s not magic,” she said, knocking his hands away, “and you’re a giant now. Everyone is shrinking from your vantage.”
“Mystical werewolf bond magic.” Luis wiggled his fingers.
Solenne laughed, sounding so pleased to have her brother back.
Luis and Miles made the rounds, embracing and slapping everyone they saw, including Travers who stood motionless, enduring the hug.
“Well?” Solenne asked. “Did you find Blackthorn?”
Luis gave a dramatic yawn. “We’ve been traveling for days—”
“Only because you were so excited to be near home that you refused to rest,” Miles interrupted.
“Days without pausing to eat or sleep,” Luis continued, as if he could not hear Miles. “I’d like a bath and a meal. Then we can talk.”
Miles rolled his eyes. “Draven has the sword. Apparently, he’s been waiting for someone to come and fetch it.”
