mallet and slammed it down two feet
in front of her, causing the entire bridge to shake. Rowan stifled her scream
but had to stumble back to find her balance. Her foot caught on her cloak and
she drew it closer around her to keep from stumbling on it again. The beast’s
yellow eyes widened. “Red.”
Rowan frowned. Apparently the creature wasn’t color blind. “Yes,
my cloak is red, what’s your point.”
“You are the one in red, the one the wolves are hunting.”
“Great. Does everyone in this damn forest know my entire
life’s story?”
He rocked back on his heels and yipped like a hyena. “Yes.
We all know about you.”
“Well, that is just fantastic. And who the hell are you
anyway?”
He gave a deep bow. “I am Azlin, the bridge troll. Haven’t
you any bridge trolls where you come from?”
She wrinkled up her nose. “No. We have toll bridges not
bridge trolls.”
The troll scratched his chin. “I cannot let you pass, one in
red. I swore my allegiance to Ulric long ago. I am bound by my oath to him. If
the wolves are hunting you then I’m sorry, I have to give you to them.”
“Please, Azlin, you have to let me pass.”
“No, I’m sorry.” His brows drew together in a tight line as
his eyes focused on something behind her. Rowan stiffened and turned slowly to
see a large black wolf walking toward her. His lips curled as he snarled,
showing off rows of deadly teeth. She couldn’t take her eyes off the wolf but
she could hear Azlin stuttering behind her. “Ulric, she is all yours. I did
well?”
She felt her knees buckle as the wolf spoke, “Yes, you did well.
Now leave us.” The troll scrambled over the edge of the bridge and disappeared.
Rowan fumbled with the dagger in her hand. “Wha… What do you
want with me?”
“You know what I want. I want you to die.”
“I haven’t done anything to you.”
Ulric growled, “You continue to breathe, that is enough for
me.”
She slid her foot back, edging toward the opposite end of
the bridge but for every foot she moved backward the large wolf advanced
forward. “This isn’t fair.”
“Fair?” Once again she witnessed the transformation from
wolf to man, a crackle of electricity, a flash of light and a man stood in
place of the black wolf. The man stood tall, at least six feet, six inches,
salt-and-pepper hair, a long scar marring his exceptional good looks from his
right temple through his eye and down his cheek. His eyes were green like Luc’s
and their features were definitely similar. There was no doubt this man was Luc’s
father. He was dressed like his son. Black seemed to be the color of choice for
evil in the forest. His tone turned harsh as if her question set him off in a
fit of anger. “Fair is a concept I’m not too familiar with. Is this scar fair?
Your great-grandmother gave it to me. Do you think it was fair?”
“I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t know. Your mother thought she could
hide you from me and even worse, you thought you could run away with my son and
you’d be safe.”
“Yeah, well, that was before I knew your son was working for
you. Trust me, if I could do it again I’d steer clear of both of you.”
He laughed. “I knew he’d come around and bring you to me. He
might not like me, but it is my blood that courses through his veins. He can’t
help but do what I demand.”
“You must be so proud.”
“I am. Now enough about my son. You and I need to get to
know each other better.” He reached into his pocket. Rowan expected to see a
weapon, maybe a dagger, or something, but instead Ulric’s hand was closed. She arched
her brow and he chuckled. “What were you expecting?”
“I expected you to kill me or at least try.”
“All in good time, my dear. I’d rather enjoy my meal closer
to home so it is time for you to sleep.”
“Sleep? Are you going to bore me into a coma? Because I’m
not feeling very tired yet.” She heaved her shoulders. “You know all the
adrenaline
in front of her, causing the entire bridge to shake. Rowan stifled her scream
but had to stumble back to find her balance. Her foot caught on her cloak and
she drew it closer around her to keep from stumbling on it again. The beast’s
yellow eyes widened. “Red.”
Rowan frowned. Apparently the creature wasn’t color blind. “Yes,
my cloak is red, what’s your point.”
“You are the one in red, the one the wolves are hunting.”
“Great. Does everyone in this damn forest know my entire
life’s story?”
He rocked back on his heels and yipped like a hyena. “Yes.
We all know about you.”
“Well, that is just fantastic. And who the hell are you
anyway?”
He gave a deep bow. “I am Azlin, the bridge troll. Haven’t
you any bridge trolls where you come from?”
She wrinkled up her nose. “No. We have toll bridges not
bridge trolls.”
The troll scratched his chin. “I cannot let you pass, one in
red. I swore my allegiance to Ulric long ago. I am bound by my oath to him. If
the wolves are hunting you then I’m sorry, I have to give you to them.”
“Please, Azlin, you have to let me pass.”
“No, I’m sorry.” His brows drew together in a tight line as
his eyes focused on something behind her. Rowan stiffened and turned slowly to
see a large black wolf walking toward her. His lips curled as he snarled,
showing off rows of deadly teeth. She couldn’t take her eyes off the wolf but
she could hear Azlin stuttering behind her. “Ulric, she is all yours. I did
well?”
She felt her knees buckle as the wolf spoke, “Yes, you did well.
Now leave us.” The troll scrambled over the edge of the bridge and disappeared.
Rowan fumbled with the dagger in her hand. “Wha… What do you
want with me?”
“You know what I want. I want you to die.”
“I haven’t done anything to you.”
Ulric growled, “You continue to breathe, that is enough for
me.”
She slid her foot back, edging toward the opposite end of
the bridge but for every foot she moved backward the large wolf advanced
forward. “This isn’t fair.”
“Fair?” Once again she witnessed the transformation from
wolf to man, a crackle of electricity, a flash of light and a man stood in
place of the black wolf. The man stood tall, at least six feet, six inches,
salt-and-pepper hair, a long scar marring his exceptional good looks from his
right temple through his eye and down his cheek. His eyes were green like Luc’s
and their features were definitely similar. There was no doubt this man was Luc’s
father. He was dressed like his son. Black seemed to be the color of choice for
evil in the forest. His tone turned harsh as if her question set him off in a
fit of anger. “Fair is a concept I’m not too familiar with. Is this scar fair?
Your great-grandmother gave it to me. Do you think it was fair?”
“I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t know. Your mother thought she could
hide you from me and even worse, you thought you could run away with my son and
you’d be safe.”
“Yeah, well, that was before I knew your son was working for
you. Trust me, if I could do it again I’d steer clear of both of you.”
He laughed. “I knew he’d come around and bring you to me. He
might not like me, but it is my blood that courses through his veins. He can’t
help but do what I demand.”
“You must be so proud.”
“I am. Now enough about my son. You and I need to get to
know each other better.” He reached into his pocket. Rowan expected to see a
weapon, maybe a dagger, or something, but instead Ulric’s hand was closed. She arched
her brow and he chuckled. “What were you expecting?”
“I expected you to kill me or at least try.”
“All in good time, my dear. I’d rather enjoy my meal closer
to home so it is time for you to sleep.”
“Sleep? Are you going to bore me into a coma? Because I’m
not feeling very tired yet.” She heaved her shoulders. “You know all the
adrenaline
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