Bitten Too by Violet Heart

 
     
     
     
    BITTEN TOO
     
    by
     
     
     
    Chapter One
     
    Death. Jorge Grauwolf urged his horse faster. My bite will deal death to those who killed my brother. He stifled a growl to avoid spooking his horse. He had no wish to be thrown, especially at this speed.
    King Malveaux and his new bride would pay the price for Youel's murder. Jorge only wished he'd been able to extricate himself from his family obligations and come sooner. Why didn't his family grieve? Why didn't they support his need to avenge his brother? Their own blood relative! He bared his teeth, clenching them in sheer effort to prevent yelling his frustration.
    He neared the Rift River Valley at a full run, his horse laboring for breath. The sound of his animal's heavy, rhythmic puffs drowned out birdsong and added a musical element to the rumble of the river where it flowed at the base of the roadway's sheer drop-off. He left rocky outcroppings behind. As grassy fields came into view, he reined his horse slower.
    The sunlit valley removed the A lpine M ountains' chill, and he slowed his horse to a walk to prevent ruining the magnificent beast. An idyllic village spread on the other side of the river. He narrowed his eyes and headed for a wooden bridge that crossed a fast-moving span of water. His horse's hooves clopped over its sturdy boards.
    Happy chatter met his entrance on the village's main thoroughfare. People moved from shop to shop, easy and comfortable in their conversations. Some smiled at him, but he didn't return their unspoken greetings. He searched faces, hoping to recognize someone. Anyone.
    He had enough anger in him to leap from his horse and attack in bright daylight if he spotted Ebenoral Malveaux. The pact of secrecy be damned. The scent of humans had his hunting instincts on full alert . Everywhere, humans roamed this place. H alf would faint at the sight of a werewolf, and the other s would pissing their pants and run. Weaklings.
    Nobody looked familiar, however. He continued through town and emerged onto a country highway. Forest lined both sides. An occasional estate broke into tree line where expansive lawn and gardens formed large breaks in the trees. He understood his aunt, Lady Grauwolf, kept an estate along this road. Youel had come two months earlier, and it had cost him his life. Jorge would practice more care.
    Fifteen minutes later, he passed under a stone arch marked Grauwolf Haus and marched his mount down a tree-lined drive. In the distance, his aunt's gray stone mansion sat like a jewel atop a sprawl of green lawn. A t the center of a circle turnaround , a fountain sprayed water.
    A servant in blue livery met him at a broad stone stairway leading to the main entrance. "Welcome, my lord."
    The scent of wolf in the man allowed Jorge to relax for a moment . He knows me as werewolf. He knows me as Grauwolf. "Where is she?"
    "Your aunt is at the back with her guests, my lord."
    "Thank you." He dismounted and handed the servant his reins. He removed his black hat and greatcoat and handed them over, too. Then he headed around the mansion.
    Laughter and sounds of multiple conversations carried on a breeze past the back corner of the west wing. He stepped onto the rear lawn.
    Gentlemen in tan trousers, white and pastel striped jackets, pristine linen shirts and neat neckties mingled with ladies in flouncy day dresses. Some lounged on blankets under a spreading shade tree. Others played crocket, lawn tennis, or lawn bowling. More stood or sat in lounge chairs near a bank of glass windows. At the far end of the sitting area, Lady Grauwolf laughed at the top of her lungs at something said by a gentleman next to her.
    More than half of the assembly emitted werewolf pheromones. The rest were human. How do these superior werewolves deign to associate with such frail creatures? He resisted an urge to curl his lip in disgust. Tugging his shirt cuffs past the edge of his jacket, he strode toward Lady Grauwolf.
    She spotted him as he