Chapter 3 A Scent He Can't Place

Nikolai had been Alpha King of Oakhaven for about a decade now. He'd assumed the throne when he was barely nineteen years old, after his father had been brutally murdered by some power hungry fools who'd thought the throne suited them better. The same fools who'd stupidly thought he'd be easy quarry but learned the hard way just how different he was from his father.

It was under his father's rule that Oakhaven had fallen to chaos and Nikolai had been intent on righting his father's wrongs no matter what it took. He'd vowed to be a better king than his father and he liked to believe he'd succeeded at that, though that wasn't exactly a difficult benchmark to cross considering the kind of man his father was.

In his time as King, Nikolai had trained himself not to react to things.

He'd found it was the only way to rule a kingdom without losing his mind to it. React to every threat or provocation from Silvermist and he'd have gone to war a dozen times over already. React to every scheming lord angling for his favor and he'd have no advisors left. Nikolai had built himself into a man who noticed everything and startled at nothing.

Which was why the moment in the courtyard bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

"You're distracted," said Callum, his second and the closest thing he had to a friend, as they walked the war room's perimeter. They were reviewing troop placements along the northern border. "That is unlike you. Long ride?"

"Long fortnight," Nikolai said, which was true, though not the reason why he couldn't focus.

For a brief moment in the courtyard, something had drawn his attention to a window in the servant's quarters. Some inexplicable pull that Nikolai couldn't make sense of. He'd gotten the feeling he was being watched but that much was to be expected with all the palace folk that had gathered to welcome him. Nothing strange had happened, nothing worth this level of fixation on that single moment, yet he couldn't shake it off.

Nikolai tried to convince himself it was just nerves left over from the border dispute. Two packs had nearly gone to war over fucking land and it had taken every ounce of his authority to talk them down without bloodshed. The Alphas of those packs were two old fools who still held on to the old ideals of Oakhaven when power meant everything and every conflict was resolved with violence.

Animals the whole lot of them.

'Well technically...'

He ignored his wolf's comment. Just because they were wolves didn't mean they had to act like mindless beasts and run wild. It had taken so much from Nikolai to change things and bring this level of peace to Oakhaven. He became the Ruthless king in the process but he didn't mind that title so much, as long as it kept fools from acting out.

He ran a hand down his face. Yeah it was just the leftover nerves making him edgy. His senses were just heightened, searching out possible threats after being surrounded by so much hostility for a time.

However, that didn't explain why his usually quiet, often sarcastic wolf had grown restless the moment he peered up at that window. "The Renata girl's father sent another letter," Callum interupted his thoughts, pulling Nikolai back to the map spread across the table. "He's pushing for a formal introduction before the season turns. He's not being subtle about what he wants from it."

The scheming never seemed to end. "I'm aware of what he wants."

"And?"

Nikolai studied the map instead of answering, tracing a line on the paper as though it held an answer to his plights. House Renata, a long standing noble family with ties that spread farther than Nikolai's current reach. Over the past year the head of the house had been pushing for Nikolai to meet with his oldest daughter and it didn't take a genius to figure out what the old fogey was plotting.

A marriage alliance with their family wouldn't exactly be a bad thing. They were a powerful house and an alliance would secure the northern packs' loyalty in a way ten years of careful diplomacy hadn't quite managed. There were simply too many who didn't approve of him as king, though they were too scared to do anything about it.

An alliance with House Renata was by every practical measure, exactly the kind of match a King in Nikolai's position ought to want.

But marriage to him held more meaning than mere alliances. Nikolai couldn't bear the thought of spending the rest of his life with a she wolf he barely knew. He wasn't asking for a fated mate, he knew how slim the chances of finding one were, but was it too much to ask for a Queen he actually held affection for?

"Draft a response," he said finally. "Noncommittal. I didn't just return from settling a dispute to start negotiating a betrothal I haven't agreed to."

Callum studied him for a long moment, "You haven't agreed to it because you haven't met her, or because you don't want to?"

"Because I have a kingdom to run and a border that nearly caught fire two days ago," Nikolai said, sharper than he meant to. "Draft the response, Callum."

Before Callum could push further, a runner entered without knocking forcing both mens attentions to the door. The boy was road-dusted and breathless and Nikolai knew whatever he had to say was an emergency seeing as the pup hadn't bothered to knock. "Scouts spotted movement past the eastern ridge, Your Grace. Silvermist colors. A dozen riders, maybe more."

Nikolai's focus sharpened instantly, the restlessness of the evening slipping to the farthest corners of his mind. "Scouting party or something larger?"

"Too far to tell. They didn't cross the border. Didn't seem to be trying to."

"Then what were they doing?"

The runner hesitated. "We're not quite sure but they seemed to be searching for something, Your Grace."

Nikolai exchanged a look with Callum. Silvermist riders didn't linger near the border of an enemy territory for no reason. Especially not now when the new king had barely held his claim to the throne for a season. A new king with a shaky claim didn't send men to stare at his neighbors unless he was looking for something specific.

Or someone.

"Double the ridge patrols," Nikolai said. "I want to know the moment they move, in either direction."

The runner bowed and fled to relay the order. Callum turned to Nikolai, his earlier teasing gone entirely. "You think this is about the succession mess in Silvermist?"

"I don't know and frankly I don't really care about the goings-on of Silvermist, but something has always rubbed me the wrong way about their new king." Nikolai said. He'd met Theron a few times in the past while handling diplomatic issues with Silvermist, though back then the man had only been a general, but even then, something about the man had made Nikolai's wolf edgy. He almost wasn't surprised when news spread of King Fenris' death and who was responsible. "Increase watch on the eastern villages too.

Whatever or whoever it is Theron is so desperate to find, I want to know."

He didn't know, saying it, how close to the truth he'd already come.

Nikolai excused himself not long after, telling Callum he wanted an early night after the ride, which was half true. In reality though, the restlessness that had started since the courtyard hadn't faded. If anything, it was worse now, coupled with the news of Silvermist troops.

But at some point he'd forgotten about Silvermist and Theron, and all that remained was an edginess he couldn't explain.

He told himself a walk would settle it, a casual stroll while enjoying the cool night air. It was pure coincidence that he found himself walking towards the servants' wing, at least that was what he wanted to believe.

It was his palace, there was no restriction on where he chose to take a walk to. Right, there was nothing strange about a king taking a stroll to the servant' quarters.

The air smelled of lye soap and washed linen and something his sharpened nose couldn't place. Something warm. Something that made the wolf beneath his skin go very, very still, the way a hunting animal goes still right before it strikes a prey.

He didn't know how long he stood there, in a corridor he couldn't have named a use for, chasing a scent that almost felt like a figment of his imagination. It was, however, long enough for him to hear footsteps approaching from the far end.

For some reason, in that moment he felt a sudden wave of mortification engulf him but he refused to let that show and instead chose to act like he was inspecting the place rather than lingering aimlessly.

It was only a young manservant carrying a stack of ledgers that had nearly fallen to the ground when he realised who he'd stumbled on. The lad fell into a steep bow, somehow managing to hold the pile in his hand steady in the process.

"Your Grace... I didn't expect..."

"At ease," Nikolai said, already regretting the impulse that had brought him here. "Carry on."

The boy fled the encounter as fast as he could without actually running. Nikolai stood alone in the empty corridor a moment longer, irritated with himself in a way he rarely allowed and told his wolf firmly that whatever it thought it had scented, it had scented wrong.

His wolf did not seem inclined to agree.

He turned back toward his own wing, intent on burying this strange day the way he buried everything else that threatened to unsettle him.

It did not work now.

He'd barely made it two steps down the corridor leading to his own wing when his wolf surged forward again, sharper this time, insistent in a way that made his pulse pick up before his mind had caught up to why.

'This way.'

"There is no way," Nikolai muttered under his breath, already turning down the corridor his wolf wanted regardless. "We're going to bed."

'This way.'

He told himself he was humoring the thing purely to shut it up faster, that indulging one restless impulse was a small price to pay for getting his own head back tonight. It was a lie he almost believed, right up until he rounded the corner and the scent hit him full in the chest. It wasn't his imagination.

He didn't see her until it was too late to stop.

She came around the opposite corner at the same moment he did, arms full of folded linens stacked high enough to block half her view, and there was no time for either of them to do anything but collide.

The linens scattered across the floor and she stumbled backwards. His hand caught her upper arm on pure reflex before she could hit the floor.

The second his skin touched hers, the restlessness that had hounded him all evening didn't just settle, it detonated.