Page 24 of The Lionheart’s Bond (Bonds of Dusk and Dawn #1)
JUDEL
T hat the duke showed no reaction to his attack made no difference to Judel. That man could say any number of things, ultimately, the prince was the one holding the dagger; Torell’s life was in his hands.
But Judel’s control slipped. Just for a moment, as the duke turned a clawing hand towards him. A vibration forced its way through him and spread through his body like tentacles. They pushed and pulled at his limbs, trying to control him like a puppet. Judel didn’t want to move. He had his man, and he wasn’t about to let him go, no matter what this power was trying to force him into.
Judel’s murderous intent against Torell had grown steadily since the seed had been planted, mere days after meeting Isidore. The last few bells had only cemented the need for this man to disappear from existence. His reason behind delaying their escape from Stonehollow was only partially honest. There was rage burning inside him, an anger he had kept at bay for the good of the mission, hidden from Isidore and his brothers. That fire had turned into an unstoppable blaze when those guards across the door had laughed at Isidore, even as they though they were leaving him to die. The room, the abuse, the negligence, and now the cruelty… It was the last drop. Their viciousness was the product of the kind of leadership that not only allowed it but bred it. He had decided then, the duke would cease to breathe before they left the fortress.
Meeting the Duke of Stonehollow had only strengthened Judel’s resolution. The girl, the open admission that he wanted Isidore dead. If there had been any doubts left in his mind, all he had witnessed reduced them to nothing.
Judel couldn’t imagine anything could happen that would further his disdain for Torell, and yet the latest revelation had left him speechless. It was all he could do at the time not to rush to Isidore to comfort him, but he couldn’t allow the duke to pay too much attention to the guard who wasn’t a guard.
The pressure of the spell died out. The duke writhed against him, grunting in frustration, trying to free himself, but Judel was younger and stronger. Undeterred, Torell turned his attempts towards the wolf chained to the wall. The heavy collar fell open to the ground. The prince pressed the knife harder against his neck, but Torell didn’t care. He should have killed him already, but this was uncomfortably close to assassination, and contrary to his principles. He would best the man in a duel, not like this, naked and defenceless.
Nel would later say his principles and honour almost cost him his life, and he had an inkling that would happen as the wolf pounced on him, eyes like green stones—a light born of darkness and evil. In the confusion, the duke slipped out of his hold and dropped to the floor, crawling away. As the wolf’s claws dug into his chest, Judel watched Torell hide behind the girl.
If he had a spear, or even his broadsword, he’d have dispatched the beast before it had a chance to pounce, but with only a dagger, he was at a disadvantage and taking damage. Blood trickled from his forearms where its fangs sank into his skin. The wounds he was inflicting on the wolf, meanwhile, didn’t seem to affect it or slow it down, and he couldn’t shove it away.
Judel screamed in frustration. And again. And again, the rage flooding him with such violence he felt his body change.
His next scream didn’t sound human. It was a familiar, animal sound. Not a scream, but a roar. The transformation happened without warning, and yet didn’t surprise him. The pain, ten times sharper and more intense, but also gone faster, the shifting patterns quicker. This time, unlike any other time, he was grateful for it. It was as if he had willed it.
But the change had come as a shock to the wolf, and it jumped off him. The surprise was only momentary, though. Recognizing another animal only fuelled its hostility and it soon renewed its attack.
But Judel had the advantage this time. He was bigger, he had larger fangs and sharper claws. He swatted the wolf’s face, claws dragging at the fur, extricating a whine from the animal.
The beast lunged at his neck and sank its teeth into the skin around his collar. Judel hissed in pain, wrapping his front legs around the wolf’s neck and pulling him down on the floor. The wolf clawed at his back. The mountain lion was much heavier, though, and was finally able to hold the wolf down, jaws closed around its neck, pressed against the floor, just on time to see Isidore tackle Lord Torell to the ground, the girl slipping out of his hold. The duke’s dagger slipped out of his hands and slid across the ground. No longer able to use the girls as a shield, the old man cursed at Isidore.
Both men rolled on the floor, but Lord Torell was more experienced and got the better of the fight, soon pinning Isidore to the ground as he recovered his weapon. He lifted his dagger high above him, ready to strike the final blow. Heart racing and finding it heart to breathe, Judel let go of the wolf and was about to lunge for Lord Torell, when the wolf somehow got leverage and slammed into him violently. Judel slid across the floor, away from Isidore. Winded, the lion tried to get back on its feet, but the wolf was already on him.
‘Stop!’ Isidore’s voice rang into the room like a bell, deep and guttural. Judel had never heard him make a sound like that before. It wasn’t a recognizable sound, not a word he knew at least, but the meaning became clear only in his mind. And not only his; the wolf stopped too. The light in his eyes shone bright green once, then died away, turning now a warm shade of orange. The wolf limped away and sat back in his corner.
‘You shitty brat,’ Lord Torell grunted, lifting his dagger once more.
Judel ran across the room and pounced on him before he could finish his stabbing motion, both of them rolling off Isidore. Now, in his animal form, the duke tried his sorcery again and while the prince didn’t find himself subduing to his power, it was much harder to move, like trying to walk against a strong current. Torell, his face contorted with effort, got up on one knee, then the other, his claw-like hand pointed at Judel, the air around them thick with magic, but a different tension broke through.
‘Take him,’ rang Isidore’s deep, powerful voice, and the wolf’s eyes shone a bright gold as it began its unstoppable race towards the duke.
Torell managed a strangled ‘no,’ before the wolf pounced on him, paws out, stepping on his chest and closing its huge mouth around the man’s neck. Eyes bright like jewels, he held down, the occasional violent shake, until gurgling and a loud crack put an end to the man’s life. The wolf came off him, muzzle covered in blood and walked like a good puppy back to Isidore’s side, to rub against his thigh. Isidore dropped a hand to its head and rubbed him behind the ears, to which the wolf responded by licking his hand and nibbling at his fingers.
Judel got up, inexplicably annoyed by the gesture, and made his way to Isidore.
‘You’re looking for scratches behind the ears too,’ Isidore looked down on him, smiling as he dragged a hand around Judel’s ear. Judel purred, wishing he could just hug the boy instead.
Just like that, the pain returned.
It was so sudden it left him winded, like being caught in a rockslide. But then he was standing, the pain gone almost immediately. Naked, but human.
‘How?’ Judel asked, looking at his hands.
Isidore ran to the window and pulled the curtain away. It was still dark outside.
‘Have you ever done that before?’ Isidore asked.
‘N-no, never.’
They exchanged a confused look, but it wasn’t the time nor the place to start theorizing. A shriek made them turn. The girl was already slipping out of the door with the blanket wrapped around her.
‘Well, that’s not going to help,’ Judel sighed, annoyed. The entire garrison was about to be alerted of their presence.
Isidore didn’t move. He didn’t seem flustered in the slightest. An eerie calmness had come over him. He opened his mouth and Judel braced himself for the low and ringing sound he had heard before.
‘I… It shouldn’t matter.’
‘Why?’ Judel asked, relieved to hear Isidore’s normal voice.
‘I am his heir.’