Chapter 2

Kyne had to be dreaming. Only in dreams were the covers he slept on this soft and comfortable. He was warm in his dreams, and well-rested. His compulsion left him alone long enough for his body to recuperate. The sense of urgency that haunted his waking life was gone. He wasn't running, he wasn't fighting. There were no accursed mages and their accursed spell books, and no werewolves to battle either. There was nothing but sweet darkness, though the darkness was now accompanied by a vague memory. He was forgetting something. On the edge of his consciousness something nagged at him, insisting that he immediately remember whatever it was he had forgotten. It had to do with air around him and falling... and something to do with the smell of horses and a demon from his nightmares...

Kyne sat upright instantly, his mind snapping into full awareness in an instant. He barely had time to register his location, a small and sparsely furnished bedroom with stone walls, before pain exploded through his chest and his sides at the movement and he fell back against the covers, howling in pain. He could feel his chest burning where the Wolf-Lord's claws had gouged him. Points of fire in his sides marked where the great werewolf's teeth had closed on him, and it felt like some of his ribs were cracked. The door flew open and someone entered. Kyne's mind was too fogged with pain to tell whether it was a man or a woman who approached him. He whimpered and curled into a ball to get as far away from the figure as possible. He'd been caught. The wolves had him. They were going to kill him. He was going to die and Master Oliander would curse his soul to some eternal torment for not returning the book.

He'd failed.

The figure leaned over the bed to reach him and he closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come. A damp cloth was pressed over his mouth, placed so that he had no choice but to breath in whatever chemical coated the fabric. He tried to resist, tried to push the large figure off of him, but he had no strength. He was as weak as a baby, his attempts barely more than a light touch with all the force he could manage to put behind them. His lungs burned and he involuntarily gasped for air, inhaling a large amount of whatever had been put on the cloth.

Kyne felt his strength fall away and his vision dim. The cloth was removed as his body refused to answer to the commands of his mind. The last thing he was aware of as he felt sleep claim him once more was the large figure pulling him away from the wall and gently resettling him under the covers of the bed.

Kyne's second awakening was somewhat less dramatic, mostly due to the fact that he could barely move. The pain of his injuries was still with him but it had dulled greatly, dwindling to a faint burning at the back of his mind that was easy to ignore. His fatigue was harder to ignore, pressing down on his body as an almost tangible force and pinning him to the bed. A gentle hand on his forehead startled him into opening his eyes. Long black hair was the first thing that he noticed, and thick muscles, followed by a pair of gray eyes and plain clothing. He whimpered, or thought he did, but the sound barely reached his own ears. The man must have read the fear in Kyne's eyes because he sat back slowly, his eyes fixed on the prone boy before him.

"You're Kyne, aren't you?"

Kyne blinked at the man's question. Very few people that he'd met in his travels remembered his face, let alone his name. The voice seemed familiar somehow, but Kyne had trouble placing it. His tired mind refused to work properly, instead teasing him with hints of memories of a quiet, calm tone that he couldn't quite recall. Kyne wasn't sure what the man expected as an answer so he nodded slightly, a faint bob of his head all that his body could manage. The man's face brightened and he leaned forward, a smile on his face. Kyne wasn't afraid of this man, though he thought he should be.

"Do you know who I am?"

Kyne shook his head faintly.

"I'm Talris of Aiken Castle. I knew you when you were a boy. Do you remember?"

Kyne's eyes widened with fear as his surroundings came into painful clarity. Aiken Castle. They'd brought him back to Aiken Castle, which meant that he was back where Master Oliander could find him, where the mage could hurt him. He tried to speak but his throat closed up in a bought of coughing that shook his body. Talris was beside him instantly to help him sit up, a cup of cool water appearing at his mouth. The other man supported him entirely, an arm behind his back enough to keep him upright as he leaned against the warrior's chest. Kyne knew his trembling wasn't entirely due to his fit of coughing. He remembered Talris now. The older warrior had always been kind to him when Kyne was a child. Almost everyone in the castle had been nice to him except Master Oliander.

The water soothed his throat enough that he could croak out a few words, but the effort made his head hurt. "Book?"

"It's here. Don't worry about it."

Kyne knew he wouldn't have been able to stop worrying if he tried, but his concern wasn't on the welfare of a stupid book. "Oliander?"

Talris didn't answer for a long while. Slowly, he laid Kyne back down on the bed, his eyes guarded as he regarded Kyne. "No one told you, did they?" Talris' voice was filled with pity, and a hint of sorrow.

Kyne stared at the other man in confusion and weakly shook his head.

"Oliander was killed two years ago. He'd become a tyrant. All the villagers were afraid of him, afraid of what he'd do to them with his magic. Some of the castle guards sent for help from the neighboring lords. Mages Drahmoran, Lai, and Orcades helped us, as well as Lord Deveshal. We had the King's backing and support."

Kyne stared at Talris in shock, his mind refusing to accept what the other man was telling him. If Oliander was dead then his curse had no point. He'd been running for the last two years for no reason.

Talris reached out to touch his shoulder gently. "Go to sleep. You'll be safe here. Everything's alright."

Kyne didn't want to go to sleep. His mind was buzzing with questions, so many that he had trouble focusing on just one. Despite his intentions, he felt his body shutting down in preparation for sleep. A tangy taste on his tongue told him why he was falling asleep. His last thought before falling into peaceful sleep was that the water had been drugged.

"Good morning."

Kyne carefully rolled over to face Talris. He'd been verging on wakefulness for several moments, something he guessed the other man had been aware of. His injuries barely bothered him, and Kyne guessed he'd been fed enough sedatives to dull the pain completely.

"Are you hungry?"

Kyne nodded. "Yes."

His throat felt much better after several days' rest, probably due to the herbs in the water he'd drank the few lucid moments he'd been allowed. As he became more awake he realized he was ravenous. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten solid food.

Talris moved over to stand next to the bed and offered Kyne a hand to help him sit up. Kyne was pleased to note that he managed it with little difficulty. "Would you like to eat here or in the kitchen?"

Kyne didn't hesitate on answering. "In the kitchen, please."

He stood with Talris' help, the warrior's arm around his shoulders supporting his weight. They walked slowly and Kyne felt his strength returning as they moved. It would be days still before he returned to his normal health, but at least he was able to get up and move. He'd been in constant motion for the last seven years, so lying in bed constantly had worried him. He was so used to thinking that if he stayed in one place long enough that someone would find out he was a werewolf or that the wolves would find him. The curse had ensured that he never stayed anywhere long, always leaving a town after two days stay at the most.

He needed to talk to Talris. Now that the curse was gone, he didn't know what to do. He felt empty without it, like he didn't have a reason to live, though that sounded too melodramatic to him. While at Aiken Castle he'd never been fully trained at any skill. He had no way to make a living on his own besides hunting. Seven years had given him plenty of time to learn how to track wolves. He should tell Talris that he was a werewolf, but he was afraid to. Master Oliander had hated the wolves so most of the people at Aiken Castle had picked up his dislike. They'd had to or he would have thrown them out.

Kyne was lost in thought as they made their way to the kitchen, though he could have found his way back to his rooms on his own without much thought. The layout of the castle hadn't changed much while he was gone and he still remembered it clearly from his childhood. The decorations had changed, this he noted absently while his mind circled around what to say to Talris first. A few servants greeted them in the hallway, mostly new faces that were unfamiliar to Kyne.

When they reached the kitchen, Kyne's mind was taken away from his problems by the sweeping hug Master Chef Andre gave him. As soon as the large man stepped away, Kyne was surrounded by a flock of the maids and cooks who'd watched over him when he was younger. Kyne felt his body freeze as he was enthusiastically greeted, and he unconsciously held his breath. Everyone was so happy to see him, or at least the him that they thought they knew, that it scared him. He'd grown unused to being welcomed, to being liked, to being surrounded by people. He was glad to see his friends from his childhood, really, but at the same time he instinctively wanted to curl in a corner away from them all.

"Back up, you're scaring him."

Kyne looked up in surprise as Talris spoke. He hadn't realized he was being so transparent. The crowed dispersed, though they didn't seem upset. Sympathy filled the faces of everyone present and Kyne stuttered an apology. Before he could think on it much he was gently pulled from Talris' support to sit at one of the large tables on a sturdy chair with a large plate of food set before him. Kyne looked up warily to make sure it was alright to start eating. Talris smiled gently at him and nodded.

"It's alright. You don't have to hold yourself back here. No one's going to hurt you."

Kyne slowly took up a fork and tentatively took a bite of food. His mind went blank as he started eating and he let the cheerful conversation of the castle servants wash over him. Fresh baked bread was set before him, and a thin soup. His meal was mostly light food, intended for someone with an unsure stomach who hadn't eaten for several days. Even so, it was the best food he'd tasted in a long time.

Two tall men entered while he was eating, both in common clothing, but the redheaded one made his hackles rise instantly. Kyne dropped his fork and stared at the man, his body already tensing to flee with a second's notice. The redheaded man stared at him as well, and the conversation around them silenced immediately. Kyne knew the other man for what he was the instant he stepped through the door. Even his limited sense could pick up another werewolf at this short a distance. The other newcomer, a man with short brown hair and a moderate build, stared at the two of them before speaking sharply with an air of command.

"Stop that, both of you."

Kyne felt like he had been slapped and dropped his gaze instantly to stare at the table in front of him. A hand on his shoulder made him flinch. Slowly he lifted his eyes to the brown-haired man, who was now kneeling next to him. He could see Talris over the man's shoulder, smiling at him in a comforting fashion and the redheaded man had moved to stand next to the warrior. The brown-haired man spoke softly, his face conveying a gentle expression that spoke of his concern and sympathy towards Kyne. Clamping down on his fear, Kyne forced himself to sit calmly while the other man spoke.

"My name's Rhyn Deveshal. I've been the Lord of this castle since Mage Oliander was killed." The lord tilted his head towards the red-haired man behind him. "The man you were staring at is Eiden, a trusted member of the Castle Guard." Lord Deveshal's eyes fixed themselves on Kyne's face. "You're a werewolf, aren't you, Kyne?"

Kyne tensed and felt his mouth go dry. He couldn't lie to them, or the werewolf named Eiden would tell them he was lying. It was obvious they'd recognized each other anyways. Kyne glanced at Talris briefly and received a nod of encouragement before he spoke.

"I am."

"And you know Eiden is."

It wasn't a question but Kyne nodded anyways.

"Not everyone shares Oliander's prejudice against werewolves. Yes, a lot of them simply kill for the sake of killing, but we know there are some who aren't werewolves by choice. Like Eiden and yourself. That's why I originally hired Eiden to work for me. I'd like to offer you the same, if you'd like."

Kyne stared mutely at the Lord, not sure he was hearing correctly. Who in their right mind would want one werewolf working for them, let alone two? The mindset in Aiken Castle seemed to have changed drastically from when Kyne had lived here.

Lord Deveshal's gaze softened and he smiled at Kyne. "I want to try and make up for what Master Oliander did to you. You'll be safe here, and welcome. Whatever position you'd like to take up is open to you, though I could most use someone of your talents in the Guard. Or if there's somewhere else you'd like to go I can provide you with funds for your journey. Anything I can do to help you, I'm willing to offer." Kyne was stunned speechless. In seconds his fortune had taken a dramatic turn for the better and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

Lord Deveshal stood and started to move away. "You don't have to decide now. Take your time."

Kyne's hand darted out to catch the sleeve of the lord's shirt and the lord turned to look back at Kyne calmly. "I want to stay here, if it's alright, in your Guard. I'm not sure how much use I'll be since I don't have many skills..."

Smiles greeted his answer and Kyne knew he had made the right choice. "Don't worry about it. Eiden, Talris, and the others will see to your training." The redheaded man's smile was gentle and Kyne's fear of the other werewolf dimmed. He didn't seem like a bad person and Talris and the others trusted him. The three men fell into light discussion about how Kyne's training would be handled and Kyne zoned out, his mind drifting now that his immediate concerns had been taken care of and he was left in a place of safety. When the men turned back to him a few moments later he was curled with his head pillowed on his arms on top of the table, fast asleep.

The Wolf-Lord was in deep contemplation, his eyes focused on the cave wall opposite him though his mind was elsewhere. The Pack knew not to disturb him when he was in a mood like this, on pain of death. Two wolves had died already for letting the humans and the rouge wolf take away his spell book, though it was not the loss of the book that haunted him now. His mind was focused on the wolf who had stolen the book, one who's scent was both familiar and new to him. His mind traveled back to when he'd first acquired his spell book, for he knew the strange wolf was somehow connected to the book. He remembered a boy had held the book and been slaughtered. The Wolf-Lord paused and reconsidered that thought. The boy had smelled like the strange wolf, only younger and human. The wolf-thief had definitely been of their kind, though untrained. Perhaps he was a rouge. A thought came to him and the Wolf-Lord tested it against what he knew. What if the boy hadn't died after being attacked? The Wolf-Lord turned the thought over in his mind and found that it fit. That made the boy his kin, poisoned by the blood that ran through the Wolf-Lord's own veins. The Wolf-Lord's taint was inside of the boy. That was what had made him into a werewolf from the first time the Wolf-Lord's jaws had closed around him.

The Wolf-Lord smiled, his lupine face twisted into a hideous snarl as he howled his pleasure. A body that could resist his attacks not once but twice was quite impressive. Add to that the Wolf-Lord's own taint and he knew the boy was a perfect choice for him. He'd been looking for a new host and now one had appeared before him without any effort on his part, seemingly ripe for the taking. Ten years at least had passed since his previous host had been killed in the Autumn Hunt and he'd been forced to settle for possessing the closest wolf. His current host was getting worn down. It was slow and clumsy. He was growing dissatisfied. The wolf-thief would be his new host, he was determined.

He had the boy's scent. Nothing could stop him.