The Wolf Esprit: Lykanos Chronicles 3

“Having the sword did nothing to ease my plan’s other challenges.

“Gabriella’s powers were more significant than the others could sense. Only Father and I might have grasped their potential. I wouldn’t risk my mission to learn about her wolf’s capabilities in a life-or-death battle. More than that concern, and despite Father’s chastisement over choosing her to be my bride, I still wanted Gabriella as part of my pack. If I could keep her out of the battle, I would alter her memory of how it happened and have us mourn Father’s loss together.

“I waited for when my wife, Pompeia, ventured far enough from the castle to evade Father’s detection, catching her in a shop in Cantu. She gasped at the shock when I opened my mind to announce my presence. I couldn’t tell at first if she was happy or angry at the sight of me until she replaced the bottle of scent on the counter and approached me.

“‘I don’t know what to say to you,’ she began. Despite her shortness, Pompeia allowed me to feel the despair in her mind at losing me and on account of my betrayal of everyone. A hat covered her head, but I could see a little of the siren’s white-blonde hair.

“‘All of this is my fault,’ I said. ‘I can only beg your forgiveness.’

“Tears came to her eyes, but she wouldn’t surrender to them. ‘Are you doing it now?’ Pompeia reproached me. ‘Will I soon forget everything you’ve done like you made us forget that night? Is that how you mean to have your way again? Is that to be how you fool me into loving you again? Has that always been your way?’

“I didn’t expect her to give in easily, but I also didn’t expect her to have concluded something I’d always kept a secret. It wasn’t the first time I’d manipulated her mind. Dozens of times during the decade of our marriage, I’d ended an argument by altering her memory. If an argument had gone too far, a point of disagreement too sharp, I’d remove the whole thought itself, and Pompeia would recover from the pain and agitation in moments like the altercation never happened. I did this not just to escape the burden of her anger or venom, seeking an easy and lust-filled night in bed instead, but to relieve her from pointless, painful emotions. Why would I want to be someone who caused her to suffer? I only wanted us to love each other.

“‘Would it matter what I said to you now?’ I asked gently. ‘Is it even possible for you to forgive me after all I’ve done? Are you still my wife in your heart?’

“Without words, she let me know I was still her husband, and she gave into the tears against which she’d fought.

“‘But what does it matter now that we cannot be together?’

“‘We can be,’ I answered.

“Pompeia shook her head and sighed. ‘He won’t allow me to leave, not even for you. And he won’t welcome you back.’

“‘It’s time, my love. It’s time for him to pass away.’

“She stared at me with pure confusion until I said the words to her mind: it’s time for him to die.

“Pompeia frowned with anger at the statement and pulled away from me, but I held to her hand.

“‘Don’t you want to be free? Don’t you want to come with me and be my wife again? We could have this entire world if you accepted the truth. You are his prisoner.’

“Again, Pompeia pulled away, angered by my words.

“‘Don’t mistake me my meaning—I love Father the same as all of you. More perhaps. But what you see as his protection is nothing more than a gilded cage. How many wolves are left in this world powerful enough to keep me from protecting you? But he won’t let you venture farther than a few miles from this place. I would let you go anywhere you wanted.’

“When Pompeia returned her eyes to mine, she was still resentful of what I said, but I was sure I had her.

“‘He’s lived too long,’ I continued. ‘He can’t function in the world any longer. Too much of it has changed into what he cannot tolerate. We must let him go, my love. We must free him from the burden of his pain-filled mind. It would be a kindness. Will you not find the strength to release him?’

“In time, Pompeia lowered her head and let me take her in my arms to console her. ‘There’s no way to do it,’ she sighed.

“‘There is,’ I said. ‘I know how to set him free.’

Pompeia raised her face to stare at me in disbelief.

“‘If you agree, I’ll go back to the castle tomorrow evening and do it.’

“‘We would leave here together, then?’ she asked after a long, contemplative silence.

“‘Not at once,’ I said. ‘I’ll need time to put our house back in order. I’ll try to convince the others not to fight against me, not to throw their lives away, but they will first resist. I’ll alter the minds of those I cannot convince, so we may grieve Father’s loss together. But in time, we’ll journey together to Milan to visit Duke Sforza’s court, then to Prince Adelchi in Venice, and then who knows? Maybe even to Rome to be presented to Emperor Vitellius. The point is, we’ll be together.’

“‘What must I do, then?’ she asked after considering my proposal one last time.

“‘To ensure your safety, I need you to leave the castle in the afternoon and not return until after nightfall. Also, I need you to take Gabriella with you.’

“A surge of anger flooded Pompeia’s mind. ‘You would dishonor me again?’

“I had altered Pompeia’s memories during that last night when I’d informed her of how Sforza had annulled our marriage. I’d erased all knowledge of my intent to take Gabrielle as my alpha bride. But Father repaired my manipulation after casting me out, and now she stared at me with the same humiliated resentment.

“‘I will never dishonor you again. She will be yours to command. Send her away if you wish. End her if you wish. If you forgive me, I will not stand in your way.’

“An army of seventy-four wolves accompanied me to Castello Palatino that afternoon. All but General Morosini remained near the foot of the hill upon which the castle rose over Lake Como. We left them close enough for Father to sense them but far enough away to allow his wolf to keep from asserting himself. We arrived at the grounds near sunset.

“Morosini held the oak box containing il Vuto, The Void. Keeping five paces behind me as I advanced toward the castle, he would appear to be my human attendant to the others. Even Father, who could easily read the thoughts of humans, might not sense how nothing came from Morosini’s mind until we were much closer. I gambled the distraction of my plea would be enough to keep him from noticing their absence until it was too late.

“Step no further, Father’s voice boomed in my head, and I stopped just at the castle’s forecourt. Persona non grata. You are not welcome here.

“’Mea culpa, Father. Will you not at least come out to receive my apology?’

“From inside, I sensed the others were on alert. As he emerged through the front doors, Sempronio told them more than once to stay in the castle. I didn’t know what he thought of me—if he might believe me capable of lifting a finger to him. But to my relief, he walked toward me in his lycan form. Had his vovkulaka met me, with his senses sharpened a dozen-fold, I doubted any of my ploys might work.

“He circled the bubbling pool that bore a tall bronze of the Goddess Diana, who stood fearless and naked with the wind in her hair, her bow extended in the hunt, and beside her a wolf in pursuit of their prey. He’d made the piece before I was born, just as he’d made the stunning replica of the Pantheon that now rose behind him.

“While I stood before him in my finest black velvet doublet, dressed as a nobleman, Father stood in a common crimson linen tunic, the garment he most often wore, with his tousled silver hair in want of a comb. Though his mind bore an inestimable power, his attire spoke to the simple man he was at heart. He cared nothing for such finery. Rather, he saw it as a distraction from what truly mattered.

“Father remained silent, offering nothing but the recognition of his languid hazel eyes.

“‘Sire, I have failed you. I’ve betrayed your trust and that of your house. I will never ask you to welcome me back, but I beg your forgiveness for the wrongs I’ve done to you.’

“Father seemed unmoved, but then a scowl took his brow. ‘You lie to me, still,’ he said.

“It wasn’t a question. He saw through me, my lycan defenses posing an insignificant obstacle to his probing mind.

“‘No, Father. I’ve come here for no other reason but to bid you farewell, hoping you’ll release the hatred in your heart for me. I wish us to be at peace.’

“‘You speak to me of peace with an army at your back.’

“‘Sforza’s wolves, not mine. They wait below in town to escort me back to Milan. He has sent me with a gift to honor you.’

“‘Duccio, I will always bear love for you, but you are longer welcome here. And I have no use for your new master’s trinkets. Turn around and leave.’

“‘Please, Father. Allow me to at least present it. He bears you no ill will.’

“I turned to Morosini and nodded for him to open the box. Stepping within its field, I felt the strange emptiness of the void at once and hurried now to act before my chance left me forever. With the blade facing me, I took the cutlass by the hilt and turned it around to hold it in my open palms. I returned to Father just close enough to bring him into the void. I raise the sword for him, bowing my head with a gesture of honor.

“Time stopped for me in those moments. I continued with my pantomime, though I understood I’d already succeeded. He was nothing more now than a helpless old man. But I waited, raising my eyes to watch him. I wanted to see the moment happen, the recognition in his eyes, the moment he realized his mind was closed to me.

“Father stared at the old, weathered cutlass with confusion, his brow furrowing at the sight of its commonness. It was neither a proper gift for a king nor a god. It was little more than a beginner’s practice sword. Did he think it was an insult?

“He stepped forward as if to examine it but didn’t reach out, the puzzle playing sharply across his face. In moments, his eyes rose to mine, and he scowled. Just a moment longer, my vanity begged. And then, I saw what I’d waited for: Father’s sharpened eyes widened with recognition.

“Turning the blade in my hands, I took hold of the cutlass by the hilt, grabbed Father by the shoulder, and drove the point deep into his chest.”