Page 20 of The Howling (Monsters of the Yeavering #2)

M y mate wants to leave. My Wynter wants to go back beyond the veil. I’d like it very much if my prick would behave so I could think clearly, but being so close to her has made it worse than ever.

I want to howl at the moon. I want to tear something apart. I want to kill.

“Rutting?” the little Hedley Kow says.

I turn on her with a snarl, but of course the trickster snaps from one side of me to the other with her mischief magic.

“I’ve invited the Duegar to come back here,” she says, biting into a sandwich.

“I need some death in my life,” I snarl. “Starting with you.”

“I think you’ll find you need a way to give Wynter what she wants.” The Hedley Kow skips my huge claws as easily as she breathes. “And the Reaper doesn’t want my soul.”

“I don’t want it for the Reaper. I want it for myself,” I growl.

The creature laughs at me, finishing her food in three short bites. “I know exactly what you want, and it has nothing to do with me.” She sticks her tongue in her cheek. “You need to win her over, to get her to understand what a mating, what a marriage means to a Barghest.”

“And what would a Hedley Kow know of such things?” I rasp, my claws still fully extended.

“You’ll find I know about many things, including humans. If you want a mating, you’ll do as I say.”

“Why should I trust you?” I snap my jaws at her.

“Because I don’t want her soul,” she retorts. “But the Reaper does. And if you want to keep her from him, you’ll do what I say.”

My blood runs from hot to cold in my veins. The Reaper wants Wynter and he can’t have her. I can’t possibly allow it.

Not when Wynter is mine.

“Why do you even care, mischief maker?” I growl.

“I care because I see souls, and hers is pure,” the Hedley Kow says. “She deserves better than the Reaper.” She looks me up and down, and I know what she wants to say, even if she doesn’t say it.

“I can be a good mate,” I say, quieter this time. “I can keep her safe.”

“Then do better,” the Hedley Kow growls. “Make this place somewhere she wants to stay because if you let her go back beyond the veil, she will never be safe.”

“You want me to comply with her wishes, and at the same time you want me to keep her here?” I pinch my muzzle. This has become more complex than my prick would like.

“I told you to give her what she wants,” the Hedley Kow says before winking out of existence. “And I suggest you start straight away, by making sure your ancestors know your intentions.” Her voice comes out of nowhere.

“Trickster creature,” I growl under my breath, grinding my fangs.

If nothing else, the discussion with the Hedley Kow has at least meant my prick is less bothersome. I drop my head back and stare at the vaulted ceiling.

“She is right, Reavely,” a familiar voice says in my ear.

I had hoped I might have been home longer before this happened.

“Mother,” I look into the translucent figure of a female Barghest.

There was a reason I stayed with the Reaper, why I took souls, why I spent as much time chasing down those who perpetrated the atrocity on my family.

Because they are all still here. All save my father. They haunt these stones with a ferocity they put into living within them.

A constant reminder of what I couldn’t prevent, and the curse I cannot break.

“She is beautiful.” Mother says. “You have chosen well.”

“I haven’t chosen at all.” I grumble. “The Yeavering chose her and she doesn’t like it.”

“My big handsome boy can bring her around.” She says.

I want to smile, but the weight of what I cannot do sits heavily on my shoulders.

“Maybe.”

“I will be waiting, Reavely.” She says, fading away.

And with her goes my heart. At least until the next time I have to speak with the dead, and try not to promise them anything.

I make my way through my castle to the great hall.

The banners shine like they haven’t in decades and there is the most enormous blaze in the hearth.

The Duegar have returned, it appears happily, at the Hedley Kow’s suggestion and the little invisible creatures have made themselves at home with their usual offerings.

They believe I will protect them from the Faerie, who so often use them as slaves.

There is also a large table, groaning with food, surrounded by chairs and…another great creature who is merrily eating his fill.

“Fenrother.” I snarl his name, closing the distance between us.

The damned Wyrm doesn’t even look up at me as I slam into the side of him, sending us both tumbling over and over.

I have to kill the intruder, and I will, regardless of what or who he is.