Shame filled Allegra. Many of her subjects didn’t recognize her because she’d been away at school for years. Once she’d arrived home for good, she’d lingered around the chateau, mourning the loss of her family. Her indecision and lack of action had allowed the council to take over.
That would change.
At the corner of a block of shops and a small group of traders with outdoor stalls, Allegra studied the main chateau gate.
“More guards than usual,” Allegra murmured when the others joined her.
“We want to avoid security,” Isabella said. “Is there another way into the grounds?”
“Yes, but circling the walls and city will take us half an hour. I use my private exit when I go running alone. Pierre showed it to me when I was home one time, and we went out together.” Allegra squeezed her eyes closed for an instant and shoved aside the wave of grief. The old werewolf hunter hadn’t cared that his sons had killed her family, but the financial reward had excited him. The blood money.
“This way.” Allegra waited for a guard to alter his path before dashing around the corner and into an alley. At least she knew her way around her city. Eventually, she’d become familiar with her people.
She strode forward, her sensitive nose picking up a cacophony of distinct scents. The fragrant aroma of fresh food, the earthy bouquet of ripe vegetables, and the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers filled her nostrils, bringing a faint smile.
But as she ventured deeper into the less-known parts of the city, the pleasant smells gave way to less savory ones. The tang of motor oil mixed with a faint body odor, creating an overpowering stench that made her wrinkle her nose in distaste. Laundry strung across the lane dripped on their heads while the entire place reeked of decay. Pierre had brought her here, but the contamination hadn’t been this bad.
“A poorer part of the city,” Dylan said, keeping step with her.
“Yes.” The council should’ve helped the residents in this area.
As she passed a nearby warehouse, another miasma reached her sensitive nose. The sickly-sweet odor of rotting refuse mingled with the mold, creating a potent combination that made her stomach churn.
Her subjects required help, and she intended to see they received it.
Gradually, the squalor of the properties compressed in the city’s center lay behind them, and a cleaner, fresher herbal fragrance rode in the air.
“The next section runs close to a guard station, so no talking, and watch where you step,” Allegra whispered.
She led them past the thick stone wall while listening to the laughter of the off-duty guards. A meaty scent filled her breath, along with the yeasty goodness of freshly baked bread. She checked her watch and saw more time had passed than she’d realized.
The forest lay ahead, and the whisper of the wind in the leaves and the sweet, nutty, almost buttery scent of the oaks made it seem like she was home.
A faint rustle, immediately followed by the sharp tingle against her chest, slowed her steps. Behind her, Dylan, Leo, and Isabella halted.
Allegra’s senses sharpened as she cautiously approached the bushes, foreboding creeping up her spine. She could feel the weight of the runes, their magical energy pulsing against her skin. Allegra’s muscles tensed, and she slowly reached for the hilt of the werewolf hunter’s silver dagger at her waist. She inhaled, attempting to calm her nerves. Behind her, her friends pulled out weapons, their senses informing them of the same danger she perceived.
As she inched closer, Allegra saw a rustling in the bushes, and her heart rate spiked. She froze when the branches shifted, revealing something moving within. Allegra’s fingers tightened around the dagger’s hilt as she prepared for the worst.
She took a step back, positioning herself for a better vantage point. Her gaze darted left and right, trying to assess any potential threats.
Without warning, a tall and lean blond with wild blue eyes sprang at her. A snarl highlighted his sharp and angular features. A second man with a more rugged and muscular build charged her like an enraged bull.
The runes vibrated painfully against her chest, and she flinched, her body jerking to the right and away from the sudden torment. Seconds later, a knife whistled past her face.
“Stop, or I’ll shoot,” Dylan ordered.
“What happened to our father?” the muscular man thundered. His gray eyes flashed with rage.
“Ah, the werewolf hunter’s sons,” Isabella said.
“She killed him,” the man with the blue eyes accused Allegra.
“No, she didn’t, but if she had, it would’ve been self-defense,” Isabella said.
Allegra’s body remained coiled, ready to spring into action. “You killed my mother and father. My brother,” she said, her tone flat.
The blond shrugged while his brown-haired brother released a snigger.
