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Table of Contents

Revenge of Her Wolves | Court of Fae and Firelight | Book Two

Dedications

Part One | Envy, Enemies, and Deception | Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Part Two | Blood, Bonds, and Vengeance | Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

The Fae Queen’s Warriors

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Revenge of Her Wolves Glossary

Books by Tara West

Revenge of Her Wolves

Court of Fae and Firelight

Book Two

Copyright © 2023 by Tara West

Published by Shifting Sands Publishing

First edition, published June 2023

All rights reserved.

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States
of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the
material or artwork herein is prohibited.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are

products of the author’s

imagination and are not to be construed as real.

Artwork by Trifbookdesign.com

Edits by Jade Taggart

Four shattered hearts. Three deadly enemies. Two innocents

lost. One chance at peace.

Though my identity has been revealed, I’m left with more questions
than answers. Why did my parents

fake my death and erase my memories? Who sent the mercenaries

to kill my wolf protectors and me?

Will the Fae prince I love ever forgive me for hiding my dark secret,
the only thing I suspected about my past life—his half-brothers are
my fated mates? Will my mates set aside their thirst for revenge

long enough to help me find the children born out of our one night
of passion five years ago? And,
finally, will any of this matter if we are all doomed to die in the cruel
king’s court?

Dedications

To Holly, Mommy’s most perfect Angel Princess—forever missed and

in our hearts. We will never

forget your wiggly nose, the soft pink on your ears, your sassy
thumps, and your sweet butterfly

kisses. Binky freely over the rainbow and eat all the Craisins and
bananas until we meet again.

To Susan, I’m so glad our paths have crossed. Your feedback is

amazing! Thinking of you.
To Amanda, Cheryl, and Sheri, thanks so much for catching my
oopsies!

To Jade. You caught a few really big oopsies. Thank you!

Part One

Envy, Enemies, and Deception

Prologue

Tarianya

y daughter fit so perfectly on my hip, as if I’d been carved especially

for her. I nuzzled her

cheek when she gave me that cherubic smile. I was alarmed by her
canines, for they were

getting sharper every day. My daughters were a daily reminder of

their wolf-shifter fathers, for they had their silver-blue eyes, they
loved being outdoors, and their smiles were far too feral. Deep in my
gut I knew they were destined to be not just wolf shifters, but
witches, too. I held tightly to Ember, the more introspective and
quiet of my toddlers. My twin sister, Shirina, followed me up the
narrow path with Aurora, my bold and adventurous child, on her hip.
My daughters were my primary source of joy
after our father forced us to dwell deep within the dark Periculian
Forest, which sat beneath the

looming mountains by the same name. It was always gloomy here, a

mirror of my miserable heart.

This was the most treacherous part of our journey to the village,
stepping over gnarled roots and

dodging stinging branches while hiking up a steep incline, all while

trying not to drop my child or the basket of soaps tucked in the
crook of my arm. We’d just come from bathing in the falls. Our hair
was still damp, plaited on top of our heads so as not to soak our
gowns. Our skin glowed beneath the

orange rays of the waning sunlight streaming through the pines. We

would have to get inside soon, for even though it was warm in late
spring, the nights still brought a bite to them.

My children loved bathing in the falls. It was their favorite thing to

do, though it didn’t take much to make them happy. Unlike me,
whose soul was always shrouded in a dark cloak of gloom while I

struggled to accept all that I’d lost. Ember and her sister Aurora
were all that were left of their

fathers, mates I’d only spent one night with before my world had
imploded.

An unusual hush fell about the forest, and I stopped as if I’d hit a
wall, wincing when a bar of

soap fell out of my basket with a thunk.

Shirina swore behind me. “I almost ran into you.”

“Sorry,” I breathed. My nostrils flared as I scented a change in the
air. Adrean was here.

I looked behind me at my scowling sister as she picked up my fallen

bar of soap and put it in her

basket. We’d once been mirror images, but now there were obvious
differences in our features.

Perhaps it was that her face and figure were fuller. I barely had an
appetite these days. Perhaps it was that her moss-colored eyes
didn’t have dark circles beneath them after three years of crying
herself to sleep. I should’ve been jealous that her honey-kissed skin
had retained its youthful glow and her hair as dark as a raven’s wing
was still long and full of luster. I didn’t care, though. Not when I
could only think of vengeance against the king who’d taken so much
from me.

A howl rang out, and Shirina’s scowl deepened. “You don’t have to
answer his call.”

“I do.” For my father-in-law wouldn’t be pleased if I didn’t.

She nodded toward the path ahead. “We have to heal Claudette.”

Claudette, the mousy human villager who’d spent most of her life
being sick was always

struggling with one ailment or another. Though she’d been born to a

family of witches, Claudette had no magic and was a constant
source of worry to her family, to everyone. Her various ailments

confounded my magic, for I’d heal one malady, only for her to get
sick with another. I was growing

ever tired of rushing to her bedside.

“Mother said it’s a simple cold.” I scanned the forest’s lengthening
shadows, spotting movement

out of the corner of my eye. “She can wait a few more hours.”

Shirina adjusted Aurora on her hip when my child began to fuss.

“Tari, I can’t keep covering for

you like this.”

I shrugged. “Just tell Father I got lost picking berries.”

“Do you think he’ll believe it?”

I kissed Ember’s forehead, my lips lingering on her damp skin. “He

probably already knows.”

“Then don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Your children need you.”

I hated that I had to continually have this argument with my sister,

with all my family. Why

couldn’t they understand? “I do this for my children, to avenge their

people, their fathers.”

“They need their mother more than they need revenge.”

I resented the censure in her tone, the judgment in her eyes. I

gritted my teeth when Adrean howled

again. “Shirina, I appreciate everything you do for my girls and me,

but you don’t know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

“I don’t?” Shirina’s features twisted, and for a moment, I feared

she’d use her enchanted voice to

compel me to stay. “I lost you three years ago.”

I rolled my eyes to the darkening sky. “Don’t be so dramatic.” I
handed Ember off to her. Shirina

balanced both children on her hips as if they were extensions of

herself.

“The Tarianya I knew is dead.” Her voice cracked as my children

fussed on her hip, their fists in

their mouths. They were hungry, but my milk dried up long ago.

“Take them home and feed them,” I said to her.

Her mouth pinched as if she’d sucked on rotten fruit. “Don’t change

the subject. You have that

same stony look in your eyes as our mother.”

I threw up my hands, frustration pounding a drum in my skull. “And

now I understand why she’s

depressed. Every day of my life for the past three years has been
more depressing than the day

before.”

She adjusted my fussy children in her arms again. “You focus so

much on what you’ve lost, and

you don’t appreciate what you’ve gained.”

The condescension in her tone was too much. “You think I don’t love
my children?”

She shrugged. “Not enough.”

“Not enough?” A blade twisted in my heart. How could my twin be

so cruel? “They’re all I have
left of the men I love.”

“They might not be dead.” Her voice lacked conviction. She was lying
to me and herself, and she

couldn’t even look me in the eyes. Despite all she’d done for my
children, I’d never resented her

more than at that moment for trying to sway me with false hope.

Tears misted my eyes. “Three years and no whisper of them,” I

hissed, then tensed as another wolf

howl punctured the air, this one more urgent. I snarled at my sister.
“My father-in-law is calling me.

I’ll try to hurry. Will you watch the girls or not?” I snapped, unable to
keep the venom from my tone.

Her eyes flared as my children squirmed against her. “I always do,

don’t I?”

“Thank you.” I picked up my skirts, preparing to run. “I swear I’ll

make it up to you when this is

all over.”

“When this is all over?” Her laughter was a mad witch’s cackle. “You
think a few burned shifters

and a fledgling witch are going to defeat an army of a thousand

dragons? That fire addled his brains, Tarianya. He’s going to get you
all killed, but don’t worry.” She squeezed my children close to her

sides. “I’ll take care of the girls. I do a better job than you do,
anyway.”
I sucked in a hiss, the venom in her words leaching into my veins.
“That was unkind, Shirina.”

She turned up her chin, defiance flashing in her eyes. “It’s true.”

I swallowed back my emotions. Maybe she was right, but I didn’t

want to think on it right now.

Adrean needed me. “I’ll be back after nightfall.”

“Nightfall!” she shrieked.

I sensed the shift in her voice and tensed when storm clouds
darkened her eyes. Knowing she was

about to use her voice on me, I covered my ears and fled, nearly
tripping over my skirts as I ran

toward the shadows, toward the only one who understood my

sorrow and whose thirst for revenge

was even greater than my own.

CLUTCHING THE HANDLE of my basket in a bruising grip, I hurried

down the worn clay path

beneath the thick canopy of trees. The moon had disappeared

behind the treetops, and the night was

too dark even for my Fae-touched eyes. Fortunately, the fireflies had
come to my aid, lighting the way toward my parent’s small hut deep
in the forest. I gave a start when a hulking, winged shadow
appeared from behind a large oak.

“Father!” I gasped, clutching my chest when I caught the familiar

stoop of his shoulders. “You

gave me a fright!”

He advanced toward me, his features shrouded by the hood of his

cloak. “Where have you been?”

I stepped back when he bore down on me, his wings snapping open.
“I got lost picking berries.”

He pulled back his hood, the malicious gleam in his dark eyes
making my knees quake. “That’s

hardly enough berries considering how long you were gone.”

I didn’t bother looking down at my basket. I knew he was right. “I

ate most of them.” I hated how

easily the lie slipped off my tongue. I resented my father for forcing
my dishonesty, for not expecting me to do anything to avenge my
mates’ deaths.

“You’re a terrible liar, Tarianya.” Crossing his beefy arms, he frowned

down at me as if I was a

toddler who’d been caught sneaking a biscuit. “Did you at least heal
Claudette?”

“No. I will go there now.” I turned to go, gasping when he snatched

my arm.

“It’s late,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument. “You’ll
go in the morning.”
“Fine.” I shook off his grip. “If you would excuse me, I have to get
back to my children.”

I tried to walk past him, but he blocked my path.

“Shirina already put them to bed.”

“Oh.” My heart twisted. Had I been gone that long? Now Shirina
would have even more cause to

call me a horrible mother.

“She might as well be their mother,” he said with a sneer. “She takes
better care of them than you

do.”

My shoulders caved inward, but then something snapped deep

within me. I was so sick of my

father judging me for mourning my mates. “I am taking care of my

children.”

He arched a thick brow. “By planning an insurrection that will get

you killed?”

“Shifter-kind will never be safe as long as that bastard king lives,

and you know my daughters are

probably shifters.”

“Nobody else has to know.”

I loathed the apathy in his voice. “We just keep hiding like cowards,
knowing the king wants

nothing more than to annihilate the entire shifter race?”

“Your magic isn’t strong enough yet.” His deep voice cracked. “We
must bide our time and stick

to the prophecy.” He had that same mad gleam in his eyes every
time he spoke of the prophecy.

I wanted to scream. “I’m so damn sick and tired of hearing about

the prophecy!” I threw the

basket of berries to the ground and waved a fist in his face. “I will
not let the whisperings of witches decide my fate.”

He snatched my wrist, squeezing until my bones ached. “Thousands

of Fae died so that you could

fulfill that fate!”

I called on my magic, summoning enough of a spark for him to let

go with a hiss. “And I’m sorry

for them, but do you understand the absurdity of your plan?”

Refusing to back down when he snarled

again, I glared up at him, jabbing his chest. “For me to side with the
king who killed my mates to get vengeance on a queen who killed
your friends?”

His eyes turned wild. “It’s not as simple as that, and I’ve already told
you that you can have your

vengeance against Fachnan after you defeat Malvolia.”

I clenched my fists until my nails pierced my palms as my vision

clouded red. I was so angry with

my father for using me for his own gain while dismissing my

shattered heart. “I’ll never side with
him, Father.” I searched the dark pools of his eyes. “You’ll have to
find some other witch to fulfill your prophecy.”

His shoulders fell, a look of pain flashing in his eyes. “Child, I never
wanted it to come to this.

One day when your memories come back, I hope you can forgive
me.”

“My memories?” I asked as my father stepped to the side.

An old man in brown robes stood behind my father. His long, gray
beard nearly dragged the

ground as he hunched over a weathered cane.

“Who are you?” I demanded, stepping back. Something wasn’t right.

What had my father said

about my memories?

“Hello, Tarianya.” The old man’s eyes pinched, his bushy eyebrows
like two fuzzy white

caterpillars. “I’m an old friend of your mother’s.”

My gut roiled, and every instinct told me to run when the old man
lifted his hand. My father

ducked beneath his cape, but I didn’t move in time to avoid the
blinding white light that pierced my skull and held me immobilized in
its grasp. Who was he and what was he doing to me? Unable to

fight, I fell to my knees with a groan. My skull ached as if the old

man’s fingers were digging inside my brain. Though I couldn’t see, I
felt tears leak from my eyes and stream down my face. My vision

was eclipsed by that piercing white light, and it hurt so very much.
I heard my mother’s voice, though perhaps it was a dream. “You
said she wouldn’t suffer!”

“It can’t be helped,” the old man grunted. “Her magic is stronger
than I realized.”

“Be careful with her!” my father cried.

I wanted to cry out to my father, beg him to save me, but the voice
was stolen from my lungs. What

was the old man doing? Was he erasing my memories?

Mind spinner! a voice warned me, for my parents had told us about
the mage before.

No! I didn’t know how to fight it, but I flung out my magic,
envisioning myself planting a seed of memories deep inside my mind
where the mind spinner couldn’t reach them—my children’s laughter,

my sister’s scowl, Asher and Finn’s piercing eyes, and my heart that
beat for them. You are Tarianya, mother to Ember and Aurora, mate
to Asher and Finn, sister to Shirina. Never forget. Never forget.

That was the last thing I thought before surrendering to oblivion.

Chapter One

burst of fire arced over our heads. I sucked in a scream when

Radnor banked hard to the right,
his wings tucked behind him as he soared through the air, deftly
dodging mage flame. Despite

his quick maneuvers, I wasn’t in danger of falling off the dragon’s

back while Helian had his arms

wrapped tightly around me.

Those blue banners and their army of dragons were within reach, for
I could make out the setting

sun’s rays striking through the membranes in the dragons’ wings as

they held the line guarding

Peloponese’s western wall.

I kept looking behind me at that advancing army of Ravini mages, at

least a thousand fire-

wielding, winged adversaries closing in on us. My wyverns, Bella and

Beau, who flew behind

Radnor, followed his every move while my mates clung to their

backs.

My mates. I could hardly believe it.

The biting wind as we catapulted through the clouds stung my face

and burned my eyes, the curses

and hollers from the advancing army rattled my ears and churned
my stomach, and the buzz of magic

in my veins scalded my fingers.

But I didn’t complain, because I was in Helian’s arms—one place I
never thought I’d find myself

again.

Even though the world was falling apart around us, I felt safe in his
embrace. I only wished I

could’ve said the same thing for my mates.

Beau let out an agonized roar, and my world slowed until there was
nothing but the pounding of

my heart and the looks of terror in my mates’ faces. The wyverns

trailed behind while the Ravini

mages closed the distance between them. Though I’d been fighting
our bond, fate hadn’t thrown us

together only to tear us apart again.

“We need to turn back, or your brothers will die!” I called to Helian,
fighting to speak against the wind.

Helian squeezed me tighter, his voice as biting as the wind pelting

my face. “We can’t wait for

them.”

Panic seized my skull when Beau cried out again. I cast a glance
over my shoulder. The tip of one

wing was on fire! “You’d let your brothers die?”

“My priority is getting you to safety.” His voice was as hard and
sharp as a newly forged blade,

as if he cared nothing for his brothers’ fate.

“Is it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he growled, digging his fingers

into my waist.

“Getting rid of them will solve many of your problems.”

He squeezed me so hard, my ribs ached. “I’m trying to save you,

Anya!”

“They’re the ones who need saving! Slow down, and I will blast the
mages.” I’d do whatever it

took to save my mates, even if it meant I had to kill.

“All of them?”

“Yes.” Though I prayed it wouldn’t come to that. If I could just blast

a few of the mages up front,

hopefully, the rest would fall back.

Helian let out a string of curses before hollering to Radnor. “Slow

down.”

No, the dragon answered.

“Do it, Radnor!” I felt as if some other woman had taken over me as
I yelled, my voice vibrating

my very bones.

Radnor slowed, and Bea and Beau catapulted past us, my mates still
clinging to their backs.

“What are you doing?” Asher snarled, shaking a fist at us. “Get to
safety!”
Ignoring him, I spun in the saddle and wrapped my legs around
Helian’s waist. Heat crept into my

cheeks when he flashed a devious grin. I remembered straddling

him exactly like this in the throes of passion. No doubt, he
remembered it, too. Only, this time we were on a dragon’s back and
being

hunted while my rabbit was pressed between us, his tall ears tickling
my chin.

In my newer, taller Fae body, I could easily see over Helian’s

shoulder. They flew at us in a V,

just like a flock of birds. If I could cut off the head of the formation,
perhaps the rest of the mages would falter. I could almost make out
the red gleam in the closest mage’s eyes as I unleashed my

magic, firing directly at his chest and the four mages flanking him.

“Just them,” I whispered. White magic spooled out of my hands,

streaming across the sky toward

my targets. I would not let them kill the fathers of my children.

That’s what I kept telling myself.

The blast sucked all sound from the air before striking the first five
mages, turning them to dust,

and knocking back several dozen others in the line, sending them
tumbling back like cannons through

the air. Those mages knocked others out of the air, and the entire
line crumbled, dropping from the sky like birds striking a window.

I spun back around, clutching my rabbit as we neared the blue

banners. Bile rose into my throat as
I looked at the two dragons flanking the front line, each bigger than
Radnor, keeping sentry on the twin towers guarding the gate. My
gaze was drawn to an even bigger dragon and his soldier. Malice
shown

in their gazes as they took off from the front of the gate, flying right
for us.

Radnor let out a roar, hovering in the air, Bella and Beau flanking
him, as the dragon and his rider approached. I gasped when fire
raced up the dragon’s throat. At the very last moment, the dragon

turned his maw to the sky, spewing a column of fire into the air.

I threw out my hands, and a white shield stretched from my

fingertips, capturing the embers that

would’ve rained down on our heads.

“You dare show your faces here, traitors!” the rider called from his
dragon’s back, seemingly

unimpressed by my magic. This soldier wore silver-plated armor and

a striking blue feathered blaze

down the back of his helmet. Through his armor I could make out
the lines framing his eyes. He

looked and sounded at least twenty years older than Helian.

“Yes, we dare,” Helian boomed. “Nice to see you again, too,

Commander Bane.”

The dragon’s nostrils flared, smoke pouring from his snout as he

glared at me and then my mates

like we were his next meal.

“What is your business here?” Commander Bane demanded.

“We seek sanctuary from Malvolia’s army,” Helian called back.

The commander nodded toward me with a smirk. “Looks like you

have a good handle on her army

already.”

“Our white witch is tired.” Helian squeezed my sides. “She needs rest
so she can heal and fulfill

her prophecy to destroy Malvolia.”

The commander gave me an accusatory look. “How do we know

you’re not bringing her here to

destroy our king?”

“You don’t.” He splayed a hand across his heart. “But I swear on my

honor I have not brought her

here to destroy my father.”

“As if we’d trust in a deserter’s honor.” The commander snorted, and

his dragon laughed

maliciously, more smoke pouring from his snout.

“I deserted to save my brothers,” Helian answered in a voice that

was surprisingly calm. “You
would’ve done the same for your families. I have no more title, no
more country. All I have left is my honor.”

The commander paused, his stony face unreadable except for the
slight twitch of his mouth. When

he looked down at his dragon, patting his scales, I realized they

were deep in conversation.

“What say you, witch?” He gave me a dark look. “Have you come to
destroy our king?”

“No, I have not.” My spine stiffened at the accusation in his voice.

“No harm will come to your

king at my hands, so long as he means us no harm.” Besides, I

thought to myself, I wouldn’t steal that honor from my mates.

“You know full well a white witch will tip the scales in this war,”
Helian said, his fingers

pressing firmly into my belly and branding my skin. “She is also a

powerful healer and will save

thousands of Caldarian lives in the coming battles. You should worry

more about what my father will

do to you if you turn her away.”

“And what about the bastards?” Fire raced through my veins when
the commander nodded toward

my mates with a sneer.

“I make no promise what my brothers will do,” Helian answered, his

voice as taut as a newly
strung bow, “but if my father’s guards can’t protect him against a
few shifters, then they don’t deserve to wear the crest.”

The soldier paused, looking down at his dragon’s scales, his mouth
twitching. Finally, he cleared

his throat. “We will let you and the witch through, but not the
bastards.”

I gritted my teeth. “They go where I go.”

“Now let us pass,” Helian snarled, “or our white witch will turn you to
dust.”

For the first time, I saw fear reflecting in the commander’s eyes.
Even his dragon flinched,

flapping back several feet. But they let us pass. We flew over them
and the line of dragons parted to let us through. Not until we flew
past the blue banners, across a stretch of sand dunes, and above
the gleaming city, did I heave a sigh of relief.

I HAD NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE the city we flew over. Bright blue

banners blew from the tops of

domed buildings. From the height of the rooftops to the wide

porticos of the coliseum, this city wasn’t built on a grand scale for
merely show—it was made for dragons. Now I understood why
Thorin had

once referred to it as ‘Dragon City.’

I was struck mute with awe while taking in the sights, from the
sparkling river that ran through the center of the city to the massive
aery carved into the northern seawall, a series of shallow caves and
nests that stretched as far as my eye could see.
We were met with more of the same resistance at the palace gates,
and we handled it just as we’d

done at the city wall, managing those guards and their dragons
easily enough with a few showers of

white magic.

After leading us into a pretty courtyard, Helian helped me off Radnor,

and I clumsily fell into his

arms.

Helian paid no heed to Asher’s growls, but needles pricked my spine

at the thunderous look in my

wolf mate’s eyes. I pushed out of Helian’s embrace, doing my best to

get used to my legs.

Finn was at my side. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Just need some time to adjust to this new body.”

“Your true body,” Asher corrected.

I clenched my hands into fists. “I’m not getting into it with you now,
Asher.”

Refusing to give him another look, I brushed past him, my gait

wobbly, before I fell against Beau.

Whimpering, he cradled his injured wing against his chest.

I stroked his long maw, wiping away a tear the size of my palm. “It’s
okay, baby,” I cooed,

infusing my healing magic into his shredded wing.

After he was healed, I slowly stood, shaking my dizzy head. I’d used
far too much magic and

needed food and rest. I feared I’d get neither once we breached the
castle.

I laughed when Beau let out a loud squawk and dragged his long
tongue up the side of my face.

Then I healed a minor injury on Bea’s side.

Radnor snarled when I tried to check him for injuries. What do you
think my armor is for, witch?

I didn’t answer. I could think of nothing witty to say, and my heart

was too heavy for jests. I dug

into the bag hanging on my chest and pet Demon’s silky ears, using
his touch to ground me, and maybe distract me from the fact that
my life was spiraling out of control. Though I refused to look at
them, I could practically feel Helian and Asher staring holes into my
skull.

We said our goodbyes to Radnor as he took Bea and Beau to the

castle aery. Dragons of all shapes

and colors circled overhead, and I worried for my wyverns. I hoped

Radnor would come to their

defense if the other dragons tried to harm them, though I doubted

the drake would do me any more

favors.

I gaped at a white stone portico wrapped in overgrown vines that

led into the tallest building I’d
ever seen, a castle that had to have been at least two dozen stories
in height. Elements, I felt sorry for the servants who had to navigate
those stairs.

My mates had frightening gleams in their eyes, fur sprouting on their

faces, their fangs extending,

as they kicked up the dirt beneath them.

“Mind your tempers,” Helian hissed to his brothers before taking my

hand, “or we’re all dead.”

That’s when things got awkward. Asher’s eyes sharpened as he

looked at our joined hands. I

hadn’t thought about it at first. It had simply come as second nature

to entwine my fingers with

Helian’s. Asher looked at me as if I’d stabbed him through the heart.

I swallowed back my unease, magic tingling my fingers. I regretted

that Finn had that same

wounded look, but I refused to release Helian’s hand. After

everything Helian and I had been through together, I would not turn
him away now.

“Let’s get this over with,” I grumbled as I turned from my mates,

glaring at the castle’s domed

turrets.

Finn flanked my other side as we walked across a bridge leading to

the castle, and Asher walked

just behind us, grumbling the entire way. I sounded like a horse
clopping on shoes too big as we
walked slowly while I adjusted to these longer, stronger legs. Finn’s
arm scraped mine a few times,

and I knew he was vying for my other hand. My breath hitched

when our fingertips touched. I curled

my hand into his palm, casting him a furtive smile when he laced his
fingers through mine.

Well, this was even more awkward.

But Helian said nothing as he squeezed my other hand tighter.

We walked through a portico, the guards giving us funny looks but

saying nothing as a trail of

bright fireflies lit the way. Strange music resonated from behind the
castle’s walls, and I gave Helian

a curious look. Then my nostrils flared, and my stomach churned

when the smells of wafting meat and

fresh-baked bread hit me.

“Tell my father we seek an audience with him,” Helian called to two

soldiers guarding a tall set

of double wood and iron doors.

The soldiers gasped and rushed behind the doors, slamming them in
our faces. The loud clank of a
heavy bolt sliding into place was followed by the sound of retreating
footsteps.

Finn laughed. “They look like they’ve seen ghosts.”

“They have,” Asher answered. “The ghosts of their enemies come to

enact revenge.”

I bit my tongue to keep from scolding him. Not that it would do any
good.

“Revenge later,” Helian hissed from between his teeth.

Asher blew out a long breath. “Do you think I’m stupid? I won’t do
anything to put my mate in danger.”

I could feel the tension radiating off Helian in strong pulses as he

stiffened beside me. His mate.

Not Helian’s mate. Helian let go of my hand and raked his fingers
through his hair with a groan.

“Why isn’t your father at the city walls?” I asked Helian in an effort
to steer the conversation in a different direction before I was forced
to break up a brawl of fangs and swords. “Wouldn’t his

soldiers have notified him about Malvolia’s army?”

His lips curled up in a feral grin. “My father usually leaves war to his
soldiers.”

That made no sense. “There is literally an army at his doorstep.”

He laughed off my concern. “Fachnan doesn’t like to get his hands

dirty.”

“In other words,” Asher hissed behind me, his words like searing
arrows hurling over my
shoulder, “he’s a coward.”

Helian flinched, and I gave him a reassuring smile.

Even though Helian had called his father a prick numerous times, it
was obvious Asher was trying

to goad him.

My breath hitched when the doors finally swung open, revealing a

small army of a few dozen

soldiers, all armed to the teeth with swords and arrows pointing at
our chests.

I FEARED MY KNEES WOULD buckle as I stood at the edge of a

banquet room with polished ivory

floors and gleaming crystal chandeliers that reflected off frosted

windows as tall as Radnor and a

domed skylight above us. Lords and ladies dressed in fine satins and
silks scowled at me from their

tables as if I was an annoying gnat that had fallen into their wine
goblets. I clutched the bag hanging from my neck, petting Demon as
the guards behind us ushered us forward.

Reminding myself that I was a white witch and of royal blood myself,
I turned up my nose as I

walked past rows and rows of hostile faces while sandwiched

between Helian and Finn, Asher

breathing down my neck like a bear waking too soon from slumber.

Before we reached the other end of the room, the soldiers fanned
out, circling us with shields and
spears—as if they thought they had a chance at protecting their king
from me. Lucky for them, I didn’t like killing.

We stopped in the open center of the room before a raised dais of

more scowling faces. My gaze

was drawn to one young woman in particular, whose sneer marred

her otherwise flawless features.

She was tall with slender arms and a swan-like neck, her large
breasts spilling over a plunging

neckline adorned with diamonds as big as my palm. She had a warm

complexion and dark hair that

glistened like indigo silk plaited on top of her head and weaved
through a diamond tiara in intricate braids. She was more than a
ten, the very image of perfection, an angel incarnate. Needles of
jealousy pricked at my chest when the woman’s gaze slid from me to
Helian. Her sneer transformed into a

radiant smile, longing reflected in her large doe eyes. I gritted my

teeth. Lady Arabella.

A man who looked far too much like an older version of Helian stood
from his position at the

center of the dais. His golden crown sat askew on his head, his
silvery hair had fallen out of its

queue, and he had a wine stain on his tunic. “Ahh, so the prodigal
son and his bastard brothers have returned.” He held up his goblet in
a mock salute, his dull eyes sharpening to blade points. “How did
you get past my army?”

Helian picked grime from his fingernails, looking far too casual,
though I felt the tension pulsing
off him in bursts. “They let us through.”

The king’s cheeks turned flame red. “Then they shall be dealt with
later.” Fachnan gave his

soldiers a sharp nod. “Kill the bastards and the whore. Lock up my
son.”

I didn’t think. I acted when the soldiers hurled their spears at us. I
flung out my arms, pale green bursts of magic shooting from my
hands, and the spears landed at our feet as floppy vines. War cries
went up behind us, and I stomped the ground, the floor buckling as
magic shot across it in a wave. A thunderous rumble was the only
warning before the floor split open with a mighty crack and a green

stalk shot into the sky, bursting through the overhead windows and
fanning out across the room. The

stalk widened, its outer veneer turning a deep brown, until it

resembled a mammoth oak tree, its

branches sagging across the room.

Tables toppled and screaming people ran from the room. Soldiers
gaped at us, their shields

having turned to large leaves, the gleaming blades jutting from the
hilts of their swords now floppy vines. My mates both shifted into
large, snarling wolf hybrids. They looked like monsters of

nightmares as they towered over me, their long maws extended,

their claws curled into lethal blades

—and yet I was not afraid of them. I was, however, afraid for them.

“Restrain yourselves,” Helian snarled up at them.

They snarled back, their eyes focused on Fachnan.

The others at Fachnan’s table had fled, with the exception of a
bearded old man in a gray robe

who looked too much like my false father, Thorin. Mage, instinct told
me, and a powerful one at that, though I wasn’t sure yet if he would
be friend or foe. Arabella and a winged man had ducked beneath

the table, peering at us from behind the silk tablecloth.

Several roars sounded in the distance. No doubt the tree had caught
the attention of the dragons.

I clutched Finn’s side. Please, I projected through thought. You will

have your revenge later.

Please, I asked again.

With a whimper, he shifted back into a human, his clothes hanging

off him like rags. Asher flashed

his teeth once more, snapping at Fachnan before shifting back into
his human form.

I dug my hand into Finn’s side as I fought the wave of nausea that
roiled through me. I blinked

hard as the room tilted, and I knew I’d used too much magic,
possibly why it had come out pale green instead of white. I needed
food and rest soon, preferably before Fachnan discovered my
strength was

waning.

Finn draped a possessive arm around my shoulder.

He nuzzled my ear. Are you okay?

I think I’ve used too much magic.

Lean on me. We’ll get you food and rest soon.

I’d never been more grateful for Finn than at that moment as I
leaned against him, pretending to

give him an affectionate nudge rather than needing him for support.

Smiling triumphantly, Helian crossed his arms. “Father, I’d like to

introduce you to the white

witch who was prophesized to defeat Malvolia.”

“And Tarianya is our mate,” Asher boomed. “Not a whore!”

Shame warmed my cheeks at Asher’s declaration. I’d slept with

Helian knowing I was probably

already mated to his brothers, and yet he insisted I wasn’t a whore.

For the first time since meeting Asher, I felt a tug at my heart when
I looked into his fierce features.

But it was not the time to be distracted by my mates. Clearing my

throat, I cast Fachnan a

withering look. “Which means that anyone who attempts to harm my

mates must deal with my wrath.”

I inwardly smiled when Fachnan’s face turned an even darker

crimson.

The tension that hung between my group and the two men on the
dais was as thick as churned

butter. Dragons flew above the domed ceiling like vultures circling
carrion. I thought I recognized

Radnor among them, though it was hard to tell. I didn’t see my

wyverns, which alarmed me. I prayed
they were safe. Soldiers crowded the edge of the table, looking not
to their king, but to the mage for direction. Some had thrown down
their useless swords and clutched chairs and platters for weapons,

their terrified gazes darting to me like I was a wild animal to be

cornered. I innocently batted my eyes before flashing my teeth. Let
them try.

“You look too much like your mother—and your aunt.” The mage
clasped his hands in front of

him, his eyes sharpening to fine points. “Princess Tarianya Avias.”

A chorus of gasps followed by sibilant whispers swept across the

room like wildfire.

The mage arched a bushy, gray brow. “I take it your mother

survived the execution.”

“Obviously,” Finn answered for me.

“Your mother was pregnant with twins, was she not?” Ignoring Finn,
the mage casually walked

around the table before coming to stand in front of King Fachnan. A

shield, no doubt, and I wondered just what kind of magic this mage
possessed. “The Avias line always bears at least one set of female
twins.” He flashed a smile full of discolored teeth. “Tell me, where is
your family hiding?”

My eyes narrowed to slits. “I can’t divulge any information about my

family.”

He glared down at me. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I know nothing about them other than who they are.” I decided to
answer truthfully. Instinct told
me he’d know if I was lying. “A mind spinner erased those
memories.”

“You speak of my brother, Thorin?” The mage laughed, rubbing his

bearded chin. “Always a

tricky one, that brother of mine. He never does anything unless it

benefits him in some way, though he had a special affinity for Flora,
almost an obsession.”

No wonder this mage looked so much like Thorin. And Thorin had an
obsession with my mother?

Was that why he erased my memories, or did he have some other

dark reason? My hackles rose as the

mage stared at me as if he was seeing through me, and instinct told

me what exactly he was. Not a

mind spinner like his brother, but I got the feeling he could read my
mind, possibly even see into my soul.

“How did you know my mother?” I asked, needing to shift the

subject from me to him, for his

piercing stare unnerved me.

He leaned against the table, casually crossing one ankle over the
other. I wasn’t fooled by his

ruse. “I knew Flora when she ruled with her sister, back when our
two countries were still amicable.”

The blood in my veins solidified to ice. “My mother was a queen?”

Why was this the first I’d

heard of it?
“She’d been a fine ruler.” He grimaced. “But Malvolia stripped her
title. Then she was beheaded,

or so we thought. Someone must’ve willingly taken her place and let

your mother mask her features.”

“How do you know it was willing?” It was wrong to suspect the

worst of my mother, but what

else was I supposed to think? She’d transformed me from a powerful

Fae to a mousy human. How

could I not suspect she had a cruel streak?

“Flora would never force anyone to die for her.” He held out his
hands, and much to my shock and

horror, black smoke rose from one palm, white from the other.
“Whereas Malvolia was darkness and

evil, Flora was light and goodness.”

Light and goodness? The woman who’d helped separate me from my

children? I clenched my

hands by my sides. “And what are you?”

“I’m Selig.” He splayed a hand across his chest and bowed. “A gray
wizard and Fachnan’s

special council.”

Gray, not white? But what of the white smoke? It didn’t sparkle like
my magic. Perhaps it was

something other than the magic I was used to. “That’s not what I
meant.” I leaned toward him,
narrowing my eyes. “Are you darkness or light? Are you evil or
goodness?”

He leaned back on his palms with a smirk. “That depends.”

“On what?”

His features hardened, and there was no mistaking the threat in his
eyes that darkened to two

pools of spilled ink. “On whether or not you’re my enemy.”

I swallowed at that. Instinct told me I definitely didn’t want to make

Selig my enemy. “I have no

intention of being anyone’s enemy here, so long as they don’t try to

harm my mates or Helian.”

The wizard leaned back, keeping his eyes on us while whispering to

Fachnan. After several tense

moments, he straightened, folding his hands in his lap. “Our king is

willing to make a truce.”

Asher’s dark laughter skidded across my senses. “Your king has no

choice.”

Selig didn’t spare Asher a glance, pretending as if my mate wasn’t in

the room. “He will provide

you sanctuary and will not harm Helian or the bastards,” he said to
me, “so long as you restore the

weapons you destroyed, swear fealty to him, and promise to fight in

his army against Malvolia.”

Red haze clouded my vision. Hadn’t it been for Demon nuzzling my

chest and Finn’s hand on my
waist, I might have let the rage consume me. Something awakened
inside of me, a fierce need to

protect Asher and Finn. “First of all, my mates will be addressed as

Finn and Asher, not bastards.”

Even if I thought Asher was a bastard, that didn’t give anyone else
the right to call him one. “Second, a white witch swears fealty to no
one.” It felt as if someone else was speaking for me, my inner

goddess unleashed, as my voice took on a strange, hollow edge.

“And finally, Malvolia’s mages have

tried to kill us more than once. I will do everything in my power to

destroy her alongside your army, but I will not be joining you.”

That’s my girl. Finn’s voice echoed in my head.

I smiled at that, nuzzling him again. His body heat comforted me.
His presence grounded me. And

his love strengthened me. I could feel my magic returning with each
beat of my heart.

Again, Selig consulted with the king, their whispers growing more
heated while the king’s face

turned so red, he looked like a volcano ready to explode. “And after

Malvolia is destroyed,” Selig

asked, “do we have your word, you will not try to harm King
Fachnan?”

I laughed under my breath. King Fachnan was a snake. I knew he’d

try to kill my mates if the

opportunity presented itself. “That all depends on if King Fachnan

tries to harm us.” I coolly eyed the king, pleased when he didn’t hold
my gaze for long. “I may be a white witch, but I was a green witch
first, and if you know anything about green witches, you know we
are healers, and it goes against our nature to harm. I fight Malvolia
only to protect my family.” I paused, my vision tunneling on
Fachnan.

“And I will destroy anyone who threatens the safety of those I care
about.”

“You would be a fool to turn away this alliance, Father,” Helian said,
scowling at the king as if he was scolding a child.

Again, Selig and the king bent heads. A few cutting words rose
among the whispers like ‘bastards’

and ‘deception’ and ‘mockery.’ Again, the king was more concerned
with his image than with winning

the war against Malvolia.

“Very well,” Selig finally answered through a sigh. “We will offer you
sanctuary, but only if

Helian and the bas—Finn and Asher swear fealty to the king.”

Finn and Asher both laughed out loud.

Fur sprouted along Asher’s face and neck. “We will do no such
thing.”

“You ask too much,” I cut in. “King Fachnan killed their fathers and
slaughtered their entire

village.”

“For good reason!” Fachnan blurted, shaking a fist.

I did my best to keep my composure while my mates growled and
hissed. “There is never a good

reason to slaughter innocents.”

Selig held out his hands in a gesture of surrender. “How can he give
you sanctuary if he can’t trust you?”

“Does he trust the king’s guards?” Helian asked, a mocking gleam in

his eyes.

“Well, yes,” Selig blurted, then warily eyed the soldiers who looked
dumbfounded while they still

clutched their makeshift weapons.

Helian shrugged. “Then it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“This is madness!” A shrill voice cut through the tension in the air.

I hadn’t noticed Arabella had gotten to her feet until that moment.
She stood behind the table with

her crown askew and a rip on the side of her gown. There was a
darkness in her eyes that unnerved

me and set the magic buzzing in my veins. I blinked hard, shaking

my head when I thought I saw a dark aura shrouding her like a
cloak.

A man groaned as he stood from behind the table, dusting crumbs

off his black silk tunic with a

scowl. Though he had silver hair like Helian, he had massive black
feathered wings, which meant he

was part Sidhe Fae and part Ravini.

Duke Viggo, I thought to myself.

He, too, had what looked like a dark aura surrounding him.

Demons, an inner voice whispered. I shook my head again. This had

to have been a trick of the mind. Or maybe my jealousy over
Arabella was rearing its ugly head.

Viggo grasped Arabella’s arm in a white-knuckled grip, his wings

ruffling and expanding. “Niece,

come away with me!”

“No.” Arabella pouted, shaking him off her. “I’ve held my tongue long
enough.” She grasped King

Fachnan’s hand. “You don’t need a white witch to defeat Malvolia.

What you need is my uncle’s

army.” She flashed a coy smile in Helian’s direction. “If we were to

form an alliance—”

“I will not marry you, Arabella,” Helian boomed.

Those black shadows shrouding Arabella retracted. I blinked again.

Was the light that refracted

from the stained-glass windows behind Arabella playing tricks on my

mind?

Arabella clutched her throat, her eyes filling with tears, and she
looked at Helian as if he’d just

kicked her puppy. “Helian—”

“Father, I will swear fealty to you,” Helian cut her off, “but only if you
don’t force me to marry a woman I don’t love.”
Tears streaked Arabella’s face, and she swooned against her uncle.

Asher and Finn both let out low chuckles.

I looked from my mates to Helian. His face was unreadable, a mask

of stone. Surely he wasn’t

falling for her ruse.

Duke Viggo’s face twisted into a scowl, making him look entirely
different as his eyes darkened to

inky pools. “You would deny such a treasure?” He squeezed his niece
to his side, his fingers digging much too closely to the swell of her
breast. “Arabella is the most beautiful pearl in all three

kingdoms.”

“But her soul is as ugly as a crone’s,” Helian said.

I swear the room dropped ten degrees and the walls felt as if they
were closing in on us as Duke

Viggo and his niece glared eye daggers at Helian.

A tremor snaked up my spine, and Demon scurried to the bottom of

the bag and thumped.

They’re demons, that little voice in my head warned again.

Arabella let out an otherworldly scream and ran off, her footsteps
echoing down the dark hall

behind her. Snapping open his wings, Duke Viggo let out a string of
curses and flew after her.

“As our white witch has already demonstrated, you do not need
Duke Viggo’s army to defeat
Another random document with
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 “I am glad I have not such a fearful temper.—Miss Endicott, you
play croquet, of course. I challenge you to a game.”
Fanny tripped gayly down the path. But mamma, I noticed, looked
very grave.
 CHAPTER IV.

AN, Nelly, and Stuart played croquet until it was fairly

dusk. There were shouts of laughter, and much hurrying
around, as if no time was to be lost. Mamma and I went
quietly about our duties; and when I had the children in
bed, I came into the nursery and sat down to have a
brief talk with her. By this time the click of the balls had ceased, and
the three were strolling up and down the street.
“How odd it seems!” I said. “I wonder if we shall get along nicely.”
“Don’t begin to fear thus early, Mr. Faint-heart,” returned mamma,
smilingly. “It will not be as nice as having our house to ourselves; but
we are not doing it for pure enjoyment. When we are tired, and
worried, and discouraged we must think of all the nice things we
shall buy in the fall, and be comforted. We shall have papa a new
study carpet, and get his chair freshly covered.”
“And if it could be Russia leather! That would last him all his life. At
all events, we will spend half on him; and I am sure he will deserve it.
He will, likely, be the greatest sufferer by the confusion.”
“The boys will be out of doors much of the time, no doubt. We
must try to improve our invalid as rapidly as possible. Poor boy!”
“Mamma,” I said, “what a great generous heart you have! You
always pity every one. I have a suspicion that Mr. Louis is cross as
well as sick.”
“Then we must minister to the mind as well as the body.”
“I am glad that Stuart is bright and cheerful.”
“O, those children must come in!” she said, starting up. “Fanny is
so thoughtless!”
They answered the summons, but sat down on the porch step,
where Stuart finished a story of boyish school-pranks, which was
very amusing, to say the least. Papa came in time to hear the last of
it, and shook his head rather sagely.
“It is past ten,” announced mamma.
“Country bed-time!” said Stuart, gayly. “I suppose, Mrs. Endicott,
that is a hint for me to go stir up my bear, and listen to a few growls.
A menagerie; ten cents admittance. Who’ll venture in? Don’t all
speak at once, or the place may be crowded.”
“Perhaps, since he is not very well, you had better sleep in another
room to-night,” mamma said.
“Because he might eat me up in the night, since he refused his
supper. I am much obliged, Mrs. Endicott.”
Mamma came around a trifle, so that she faced him, and, standing
in the shaded light, raised her soft, dark eyes to his, and said,—
“This is out of consideration to him, and not the fear of what will
happen to you. That will be the thought for you to go to bed with, and
see if you cannot resolve it into a lesson worth the learning. If I adopt
you into my household, I shall train you as one of my children. And
you will be astonished to see what marvels a little care for the
feelings of others will work.”
Stuart blushed and smiled, said good night, and followed papa to
the best guest-chamber, that I had put in such lovely order. And so
there was quiet through the night.
Louis did not make his appearance at breakfast; but Stuart had
been in stirring him up, for we heard the growls. But he was so merry
and good-natured when he came down, that one had not the heart to
find any fault. Indeed, he kept the children laughing all through the
meal.
“What is there to do in this queer little town, Mr. Endicott?” he
asked presently. “Fishing, I suppose—the staple amusement of lazy
people. Any hunting?”
“Not at this season; and very little at any. There are some nice
rambles, and the fishing, as you say.”
 “Any young fellows that one would like?”
“Yes a number; though some of them keep pretty busy during the
day. And I forgot rowing. There are boats to be had.”
“Thank you. I’ll take a saunter round. I always do have the luck of
finding some one.”
“And there are books in the library. You may like to keep fresh for
fall. So your brother was a good deal disappointed at not passing?”
“Yes. It wouldn’t have troubled me. Steve was not a bit anxious; so
I should have let it go without a sigh. There is nothing like resignation
in this world.”
“You are an admirable pattern of it,” said Fanny. “I feel tempted to
envy you. I have another fortnight of school; and fearful
examinations are hanging over my devoted head.”
“Couldn’t I go in your stead? I am fresh from it all, and might save
you much vanity and vexation of spirit.”
“Especially the vanity. Your kindness is only exceeded by your
great beauty. Shakespeare.”
“Fanny!” said papa.
Mamma rose from the table, and prepared a dainty breakfast upon
a waiter, pouring the coffee in a pretty medallion cup that had been
given her at Christmas. Then she took it herself. Stuart sprang up
with an instinct of gentlemanliness.
“You are not going to carry that up stairs?” he asked, in surprise.
“Why not?”
“If you are not going to send a servant, I will take it.”
“You may carry it for me, if you like; but I wish to make a call upon
your brother.”
He was her attendant as far as the door; but when her summons
was answered, she dismissed him. Then she walked straight to the
bedside, placing her tray on a small table.
 “Are you rested this morning?” she asked, gently. “I think you will
feel better for some breakfast. I am sorry that you should be so
fatigued and ill, for a place seldom looks bright under such
circumstances. But we will do our best for you, and you must try as
well.”
The scowl remained in his forehead. He raised himself on his
elbow, and turned towards her, though his eyes were still averted.
“I am obliged for the trouble, though I do not need any breakfast,”
he said, rather gruffly.
“I think you do need it. Here is a glass of cool spring water, and
some fragrant coffee. A little of both may revive you. Does your head
still ache? If I had known just what to do for you, I should have come
again last night.”
“Was it you who—” and his face flushed a swarthy scarlet.
“Yes;” and mamma looked steadily at him out of her sweet brown
eyes.
He moved uneasily, and in his heart wished she were away.
“Was it you who came last evening?” he asked, in a low,
wondering tone.
“Yes. I felt anxious about you. I knew you were in a strange place,
and, doubtless, feeling awkward and lonesome. That must be my
apology.”
“O,” he exclaimed, “don’t make any—to me. I acted like a boor! I
am sorry and ashamed. And I don’t deserve that you should take all
this trouble for me. But I had been—”
“And I did sympathize with you to the utmost. The disappointment
must have proved great. But I do believe it will be much better for
you to wait. You were not strong enough to take up a college
course.”
“Yet I had said those things over and over again. I knew them fairly
well, at least. And to have all those boobies set up and sneer! I could
have killed them!”
 He looked so at the moment.
“O,” mamma said, “you must not think of this now. Do not try to
keep the angry flames alive. It is a bright, lovely morning; and if you
could make the effort to come down on the porch, you would feel so
much better! Try this coffee—to please me.”
“You are very kind and solicitous.”
There was a little tremble in his voice; but he made no effort to
touch the food.
“If you appreciate it, you will begin your breakfast before
everything gets cold. You will feel more like rising then. Come, I
mean to cheer you up in spite of yourself. This is not Doubting
Castle, and I cannot take in Giant Despair.”
He smiled faintly then, and sipped his coffee.
“There,” mamma said, in her bright, cheery way, “you have made a
small beginning, and that gives me faith in you. Now I must go back
to my flock. Down stairs there is a cool, pleasant library, and a piano,
which always stands open. I want you to feel at home.”
“You are good,” he returned. “Can I have the library to myself, or
only with Mr. Endicott?”
“Yes; or the parlor, either. Indeed, Mr. Endicott has finished his
sermons, and will be out nearly all day.”
“Thank you.”
Stuart was lying in wait at the foot of the stairs.
“Well,” with a gay little laugh, “did you beard the lion in his den? I
must go up and make him roar.”
“No,” said mamma, laying her hand on his arm, “you must not go
up; and I ask, as a personal favor, that you will not tease him this
whole day.”
“Tease him! The baby! Poor little thing!”
“I have promised him a quiet morning. You will not compel me to
break my word?”
 “Then I shall have to go out and hunt up some fun.”
She smiled in her irresistible fashion, that conquered if it did not
convince.
We had made an exception, and done the most of our Saturday’s
work on Friday morning. So now there was only a little dusting, with
the usual making of beds, and all that. I had just finished the other
rooms, when Louis left his, and went quietly down to the study,
shutting himself in. To mamma’s satisfaction, he had eaten nearly all
the breakfast she had prepared.
I put the room in its usual order. Oddly enough, I found a withered
rose under the pillow, and it was still sweet. I remembered that
Stephen was very fond of roses. There were ever so many small
articles strewn about. I thought those big boys were as careless as
the children.
Papa came in just before dinner was ready, and had a little chat
with Louis, though the young man was not disposed to be social. At
dinner he seemed dreadfully awkward and embarrassed, his sallow
cheeks, flushing at the least word. Somehow I was glad Stuart was
not there. Afterwards he went up to his room, and spent the whole
afternoon alone.
We had rather a funny time. Stuart came in late, and insisted upon
having his dinner in the kitchen, telling Ann two or three such
laughable Irish stories, that they were friends straightway. Then he
would insist upon carrying Fan’s basket when she was ready to start
on her visitation, as she called it.
“It was as good as a play,” he said afterwards. “I thought I should
smile audibly at that old lady—Mrs. Means, I believe you called her.
She is an ungrateful wretch, Mrs. Endicott. ‘She did not like such
light, chaffy bread; it had no heart. You might as well eat sawdust.’
And she wanted to know how many eggs were in the custard; and
when people sent currants, she wished they would send sugar, too.
‘Nasty, sour things!’ Why, I had half a mind to hustle the gifts back in
the basket, and bring them home.”
“We are not to get weary in well doing,” said mamma.
 “I’m not sure but a little wholesome hunger would be good. And
then that old Mrs. Bogert! Doesn’t she look funny there in the bed,
with her little, wrinkled face and that flapping cap-ruffle. And her talk,
and the queer way in which she keeps questioning her maid—‘Betty,
how long is it since I was tuck sick?’ in that high, cracked voice,
which sounds like a smashed hand organ with a monkey grinding it.
‘Betty, tell the gentleman how I fell down the cellar stairs. Betty, bring
me my snuff-box; mebby the young gentleman will take a pinch.’”
He imitated Mrs. Bogert’s tone so exactly, that we could not help
laughing.
“Did you take a pinch?” asked Nelly.
“Of course I did. And such sneezing!”
“It was dreadful,” said Fan, with a reproachful look. “And not a bit
in earnest.”
“How did you do it?” Nelly questioned.
“This way.”
There isn’t any method of spelling such terrific sneezing. No
combination of letters would do it justice. I thought I wouldn’t laugh;
but I did and the children screamed.
“Good snuff—wasn’t it?” he said, with a droll wink.
“I don’t see how you can do it, all in fun,” said wide-eyed Daisy.
“I do not believe I shall take you out with me again,” commented
Fan, severely.
“But I know the way now. I shall drop in to see the old lady often,
and get a pinch of snuff. O, dear! I am almost worn out with my
arduous duties. Can any one stay me with a glass, and comfort me
with cold water—the literal for apples and love? And then can’t we
dissipate on croquet? If I sit still much longer I shall have the rickets.
My physician prescribed active exercise.”
“You had better take the baby out in her carriage, if you want
exercise,” said Tiny Tim, having heard the two connected some way.
 He laughed.
“For—

‘Satan finds some mischief still

For idle hands to do.’

Isn’t that in the hymn book?”

“Not in mine,” returned Fan.
“Well, I am sure it is in the spelling-book. I learned it somewhere;
and it is about a busy bee. Good instructions, like pins, are never
lost.”
“But pins are lost. Your logic is faulty.”
“No they’re always gone before—that is, before you want them.”
“You are too smart for your size,” said Fan. “I am afraid you’ll grow
up a dunce.”
“Well, you cannot have all the virtues for a little money. As it is, I
think of striking for higher wages.”
“You are not worth what you get now,” said Fan, running away.
Stuart did not venture up stairs until just before supper. Louis
declined to come down; so mamma sent him some tea, berries, and
biscuits.
“I am afraid you are beginning in a way to make trouble for
yourself,” papa said, thoughtfully, afterwards.
“I am going to indulge him for a few days. He is nervous, and
really bashful; and I want him to learn to like us. But he cannot be
forced to do anything.”
“I believe I like my girls the best,” said papa, fondly.
Saturday evenings, when no one dropped in, were our choicest
time of all the week. Mamma played, and we all sang. This time no
one came to disturb us. And we never knew, until long afterwards,
that Louis Duncan listened with his eyes full of tears, and had not the
courage to join us. But it always appeared to me like a little bit of
heaven below. Papa’s sweet tenor voice seemed to belong to some
particular hymns, and it took me far above the petty work-day affairs.
How good and lovely he was in his every-day walks and ways!
Louis began to get somewhat acquainted with us on Sunday. He
did not go to church, but lay on the bed reading nearly all day. No
one found any fault with him; and Stuart’s teasing tongue was
hushed. I think he stood a little in awe of my mother, gentle as she
was. It was plain to see that the boys had been brought up with mere
outward forms of religion; that they had no love and very little respect
for it. How different they were from Stephen!
But the enforced quiet was broken on Monday morning, there
were some high words, and then an unmistakable blow, followed by
a struggle and a fall. Papa went up stairs.
“Boys,” he said, with severe but simple dignity, “are you brothers,
and must you quarrel? If you have no respect for yourselves, I
implore you to have a little for my house, that has hitherto been the
abode of harmony. I will not have it.”
The combatants paused, and glared at each other with angry
eyes. Stuart had come off victor, for it was Louis who had fallen. He
was deadly white now, with a blue line about the mouth.
“I won’t be struck as if I was a child,” exclaimed Stuart, with fierce
determination; “and he struck me.”
“I told you to let that brush alone,” said the other, sullenly. “Your
own was there.”
“Stuart, go in the room opposite and finish your toilet. I shall
expect an apology from you both when you come down stairs.
Breakfast is ready.”
It seemed as if we were to have neither of them; but when the
meal was about half over Stuart entered the room. His face was
flushed, and his eyes were still sending out fiery rays; but he went
straight to papa.
 “Mr. Endicott,” he said, making an effort to steady his voice, “I am
truly sorry that I should have been so rude and ungentlemanly in
your house. I ask your pardon.—And yours, Mrs. Endicott.”
“I pardon you on condition that a similar event never happens,
while you are here, at least. You are both too old to fall into such
rough-and-tumble school-boy fights.”
Mamma held out her hand to him as he passed her. He blushed
deeply, but seized it with a thankful eagerness. After that our meal
was very silent.
Ann went up stairs to see if Louis would have any breakfast.
“Sure, he’s crosser than two sticks when the fire is kindlin’. He
doesn’t want sup nor bite; and if he did, it’s little he’d get from me.”
So mamma judged that it was best to pay no further attention to
him. He did not even come down at noon; and then Stuart found that
his door was locked.
Quite late in the afternoon I was hurrying through the hall, when he
opened his door suddenly. His hair was tumbled, his cheeks scarlet,
and his eyes wild and staring.
“For God’s sake, get me a drink of water!” he cried, hoarsely.
I took it up to him, and knocked; but there was no answer. I made
some ado opening the door, and walked in rather timidly. He was
laughing and talking incoherently but clutched at the pitcher of water
and drank great, desperate swallows. Then he sank back on the bed
exhausted.
I ran to mamma in affright.
“Louis Duncan is sick and out of his mind!” I cried. “O, mamma, I
am sorry they came. We shall have our hands full of trouble.”
She went to the room with me. He did not appear to know either of
us, and we could not rouse him to any coherency.
“It is a fever. The doctor must be sent for immediately. Tell Nelly to
go. And, Rose, we must arrange the other room, and take him over
there, since it may be a long illness. Well, we must have patience.
God knows what is for the best.”
I soon had everything in order. Papa coming in, he partly led and
partly carried Louis to the best room. Mamma bathed his head and
put some draughts on his wrists and his feet. Now he lay quietly, with
his eyes half open, breathing heavily.
Dr. Hawley called just before supper.
“A bad case,” he said, gravely, “a bad case! Why, the fellow is
worn to skin and bone already, and looks as if he had had the
jaundice for the last month. But we will do our best. He may be
stronger than he appears.”
Stuart felt pretty sober that evening.
“I suppose I ought not to have stirred him up so this morning,” he
said. “But it is such fun! And it was all about a trifle. I used his hair-
brush; and he is as particular as any old maid. Then I tormented him
a little, and he seized the brush and gave me a box on the ear, which
I won’t take from any one without a row. I am not a baby. And it was
awful mean of him! And so we clinched. But he has been in a
dreadful temper for the last month. He was mad because Stephen
wouldn’t let him go to Lake George with a lot of fellows.”
“It was fortunate that he did not,” returned mamma. “And, Stuart, I
hope, in the weeks to come, you will learn your duty towards him.
God has not given you this tie for you to disregard so utterly.”
Stuart looked at her with wondering eyes, but made no answer.
“Our first experience with boys seems to be rather trying,” said
Fanny, as we were going to bed that night. “I hope and pray that he
may not die—and in our house!”
I thought of what Stephen had asked of me.
 CHAPTER V.

N awesome quiet settled over the house. I did not

remember a time when any one had ever been very
sick. The children gathered in groups, and spoke in
whispers, and for a day or two Stuart appeared almost
conscience-stricken. But his natural flow of spirits could
not be repressed. Yet his laugh jarred on my nerves. We were used
to caring so much for each other’s welfare and comfort, and
sympathizing with sorrows or trivial illnesses, that his carelessness
seemed to us as something quite dreadful. Yet he was so pleasant
and good-natured, so ready to do anything that was asked of him,
though he never appeared to think that he might volunteer any little
service.
“We must make some allowance for them,” mamma said, in her
kindly fashion. “Remember that they have had no mother. Much of
their lives has been spent at school; and their uncle was a cold and
rather arrogant man, papa thinks. So they have had no chance to
acquire the graces of home life.”
When the tidings became noised abroad through the village, we
were quite besieged. Mamma threw up the fortifications at the hall
door. The old women, who were curious, or anxious, or even kindly-
hearted in their officious way, heard all of the story there, or in the
sitting-room, that it was necessary for them to know. Aunt Letty
Perkins was not last nor least.
“Was it true, as she had understood, that these two young men
came to study with Mr. Endicott? She heard they were going in
college, or something or other. She hoped he would get well paid for
his trouble—young college chaps were always pretty wild. There was
no great loss without some small gain; and if this young fellow was
sick, he couldn’t be kitin’ round the village into all sorts of mischief.”
“No, to be sure not,” returned mamma, with a smile at this sort of
comfort.
 “But what are you to do? You have your hands full already, with
such a houseful of children! I allers say that Mis’ Endicott’s the most
wonderful woman I know. I should think you’d a been worn out long
ago; and here you haven’t scarcely a wrinkle in your face!”
“I do not know why people should wrinkle up their faces when they
have a number of healthy, happy children about them. Why, they
keep you young, Mrs. Perkins. It takes you back to your own
childhood continually.”
“I hope you’re a going to get paid for all this.”
“I do not believe the Duncans will become chargeable to the
parish, since they have fortunes of their own,” said mamma, rather
dryly.
“Rich, now? Well, that’s good! Though rich men’s sons are
exposed to sights of temptations. No one knows!” and Aunt Letty
shook her head solemnly.
“I fancy there will not be many here at Wachusett.”
“Mean to keep them the whole year?”
“No; only through vacation.”
“They have gardeens, I s’pose?”
“Mr. Endicott is their sole guardian now, with the exception of an
elder brother, who acts for them.”
“O!”
Then Aunt Letty fidgeted about.
“If you should want some one to help do the nussin’, I could take
my knitting and sit up stairs. I haven’t much of anything to do, and I’d
as lief.”
“No,” said mamma. “I am much obliged. Mrs. Whitcomb is coming
over this evening.”
So Aunt Letty had to go away without seeing the patient. But she
had considerable news to sow broadcast, which comforted her.
 For the first two days I spent all my time in the sick room, while
papa remained at night. The violent paroxysms were not very long at
a time, and for the rest he only tumbled about and wanted a drink
every few moments. Then Mrs. Whitcomb arrived, and I was partly
released.
By Saturday Dr. Hawley had nearly given up the faintest hope.
Every one knew who was meant when the prayer for the sick was
used on Sunday. Something in papa’s voice touched me in a
peculiar manner. In the great calm of earth and sky, it seemed so
strange that any life should go out into utter nothingness! Why, the
smallest insects were on the wing, and birds and bees went
humming and soaring, with no anxious cares, just brim full of glad,
free life.
If we had been less engrossed, we should have felt quite elated
over Fanny’s successful examination; but, as it was, we were glad to
have her at home, without thinking much about it. So the days
passed until the quivering life seemed to hang by a mere thread.
“If he can go through the next twelve hours!” said Dr. Hawley, in a
low tone. “But there seems so little strength to him. I can’t realize
that he has ever been such a rosy, rollicking boy as that Stuart; and
yet I do not see why he should not have been. Well, we have done
our best, Mrs. Whitcomb, and the good parson has prayed; so we
must leave all the rest in God’s hands. Don’t let him sleep more than
an hour at a time, and then give him a teaspoonful of this, out of the
glass—remember.”
I didn’t want to go to bed. I crept up to the room, and Mrs.
Whitcomb, and the other strange, uncertain presence, standing by
the window and watching the great stars and the little flecks of silver
cloud threading their way in and out like dainty ladies. I was so afraid
of death, too! and yet I wanted to stay. I thought of Stephen’s
perplexity concerning his brothers, and did not wonder at it now. I
was sorry that I had been so ungracious that night; but I had made
all the amends I could. And I prayed softly for the sick boy, that he
might live to a better and less selfish life, that he might see and know
the great things there are for men to do in the world.
 Twelve. The old eight-day clock in the hall told it off in a solemn
way, and went on ticking “forever, never,” and Mrs. Whitcomb
breathed in her chair as if she were asleep; but in a moment she
rose and gave the medicine.
“You had better lie down here on the couch, Rose. Here is a
pillow.”
“No; I am not sleepy.” And crossing my arms on the window sill, I
rested my chin on them, and watched the stars again.
One, two, three; and the summer night began to show signs of
drowsiness. The stars grew dimmer, and there was a peculiar
grayish duskiness in the heavens. Then a faint stirring in the east, a
melting of the gray into rose and gold, a piping of birds in the leafy
trees, and a strange tremulousness in all the air. I turned away from
the window and glanced at the pallid face, put my fingers on the thin
wrist. Had the resurrection of the morning reached him?
“O, Mrs. Whitcomb,” I exclaimed, “his pulse is stronger! I believe
he will live. I am so thankful!”
“Now run to bed, dear. You have had your way, and sat up all
night.”
I did fall asleep, and never woke until the breakfast bell rang. Dr.
Hawley came in bright and early, and the verdict was favorable.
“Now you must feed him on beef tea, and I’ll feed him on iron,” he
said to Mrs. Whitcomb. “We will run a race to see which can get the
most fat on his bones. Goodness knows there’s need enough of it.
He seems to have put into practice some one’s suggestion, to take
off his flesh and sit in his bones a space. Cool, for this hot weather.”
“I suppose we can venture to be a little jolly now,” Stuart said, that
afternoon, as we were all on the porch. “We have been going about
this whole week like a funeral procession.”
“There might have been one—very easily,” I replied, with as much
sternness as I could put in my voice.
“But when you are through the woods, what is the use of
frightening yourself with the darkness and the ‘bug-a-boos’? Isn’t that
what you tell children? I never really believed that he was going to
die. It is only your good people—”
“Then there is not much fear of you,” said Fan.
“Thank Goodness, no. I mean to have a deal of fun out of life yet.
Just wait until I can get my hands into the money. There will be larks
then, I can tell you. Meanwhile, may we not dissipate harmlessly on
croquet?”
“I think not,” was my answer. “Your brother is very weak and
nervous; and I have sometimes found the click of the balls hard to
bear myself.”
“Hang it! I wish he was in—England with Stephen. He is always
putting on airs of some kind. Before I’d be such a Molly-fuss-budget
I’d go off and hang myself, and leave my money to the nearest of
kin.”
“O, Stuart,” I exclaimed, “you are perfectly—”
“There, don’t preach to me, you small midget! I hate girls’
preaching. It’s hard enough to have it on Sundays. Can a leopard
change his spots? Yes, he can go off to another spot. So I’ll go.
Adieu, little grandmother.”
He caught his hat, and walked down the garden path as if
whistling for a wager.
“There, you have made him angry,” declared Fan.
“I cannot help it. He doesn’t seem to care for anything. O!”
I was after him in a minute, for there he had Tabby by the nape of
the neck, holding her up high to see her draw up her feet and curl
her tail between her legs like a dog.
“Put her down!” I cried, authoritatively.
He held me off with one arm.
“Why, she likes it,” he said. “Look! what an angelic smile illumines
her countenance!”
 “Mia-o-o-ow!” was kitty’s answer, in a prolonged wail; but she
managed to twist herself out of his grasp, and bounded off.
“You are a cruel, hateful boy!” I exclaimed, angrily.
But he only laughed, and went on his way whistling. Fan glanced
up from her embroidery.
“It is tit for tat,” she said, laughingly; “preaching and practice.”
I was quiet for some minutes.
“Do I preach much, Fan?” I asked, rather soberly.
“Not very much. But it may be as dangerous a habit as scolding, if
one gets confirmed in it. And I suppose it isn’t entertaining to boys.”
“But what are you to do when they are just as bad as they can
be?”
“Bear it with Christian fortitude and resignation. I am not sure but it
will be good for us to have something that takes us out of the one
groove, and shows us that the world is wider than the little space just
around us.”
There was much truth in that, to be sure.
“You see we have had everything pretty much one way; and now
we have come to a change in the current. I rather like the stir and
freshening up.”
“But if Tabby was yours—”
“You remember the old lady whose idea of heaven was to ‘sit in a
clean checked apron, and sing psalms;’ and I think yours must be to
sit here on the porch, in a clean white dress, and nurse that sleek
Maltese cat.”
“O, Fan, how can you be so irreverent?”
I heard the faint tinkle of a bell; so I ran up stairs. Mrs. Whitcomb
asked me to sit there while she went out for a walk. I took up some
crocheting, and, as I worked, watched the wind blowing about the
high tree-tops, and making picturesque backgrounds of the blue sky.
Then a wood robin came and sang his sweet song almost in my ear.
 The sick youth stirred and opened his eyes wide. How strange and
sunken they looked!
“Where am I?”
I started at the question, and collected my wandering senses.
“At the rectory. At Mr. Endicott’s.”
“O! Have I been sick? How long since—I can’t seem to remember
—”
“It is almost a fortnight since you were taken ill. But you are out of
all danger, and have only to get well.”
“I suppose I have been a great deal of trouble. Did I talk much?”
And he glanced sharply at me.
“No; that is, it was not of much account.”
“Where is Stuart?”
“Out somewhere.”
“May I have a drink?”
I gave him that.
“And you have been taking care of me—all the time?”
“Not all. Mamma and Mrs. Whitcomb have done the most of it.”
“Was I near dying?”
“We thought so, at one time,” I answered, rather slowly, not feeling
quite sure that the admission was right.
“It wouldn’t have been much loss. Both Stephen and Stuart would
have been glad, no doubt, or, at least, relieved. Don’t look so horror-
stricken.”
“I think you are unjust to both your brothers,” I said. “But perhaps it
is best not to talk any more. You are still weak.”
He turned his face over on the pillow, and was silent until mamma
came in and spoke in her cheerful fashion.
 “You have all been very kind, much kinder than I deserve. How
long will it take me to get well?”
“That depends a good deal upon yourself,” returned mamma.
“When you feel like it, you may begin to sit up. And you must keep
as cheerful as possible. Are you not hungry?”
He thought he was presently; but he made a wry face over the
beef tea.
“Can’t I have something besides this?” he asked. “I am so tired of
it!”
“Then you may take it hereafter as medicine, and we will find a
new article of diet. I am glad that you are sufficiently improved to
desire a change. I will see what I can find for you.”
She was as good as her word; and Mrs. Whitcomb brought him up
the cunningest tea in the old-fashioned china, and a fresh nosegay
of spice pinks lying beside his plate.
“O, how delightful they are! I am very much obliged,” he said,
gratefully.
That evening Kate Fairlie and her brother Dick came over to call
upon us.
“I heard your invalid was out of danger, or I should not have
ventured,” she began, after the first greetings were over, “for it is not
a call of condolence merely. Fan, aren’t you glad school is over? But
what can you find to occupy yourself with? I am actually bored to
death already. We are to have some company from the city next
week, and we want to get up a picnic to go to Longmeadow. Won’t
you two girls join, and the young Mr. Duncan who isn’t sick? Dick
thinks him such a funny fellow. Where is he? Can’t I have an
introduction? The boys all seem to know him very well. And is it true
that they are so rich?”
“They are very well provided for,” said Fan, quietly.
“And was that handsome man who came to church with you one
Sunday, not long ago, their brother? Has he gone to make the grand
tour of Europe? O, how I do envy people who can go abroad!”