(LOCKE)
The woman I brought from the Eastern Kingdom and gave the title of queen to was a gentle and submissive woman. She had my heart in her fist, although neither of us knew it at the ti. My instinct was to shield her and protect her. She was fragile and delicate. She needed to be taken care of.
The woman who is now raising my son and who doesn’t lower her gaze when eting mine doesn’t need protection. She stands by my side as an equal. Her anger is sharp, swift, and deadly. She has overco every obstacle to beco the woman she is today. She is a fine queen and a wonderful mother.
The one thing that hasn’t changed is her heart. It is still kind.
I didn’t expect Corrine to forgive so fast. I expected her to hold on to her grudge. By the ti I understood the extent of the damage to her, I had already realized that it would take quite a while for her to look at and see her mate, not the man who hurt her.
Sigrid told that it would take a long ti, and I fully expected to wait years. Not days.
Corrine’s tongue is sharper now, but I like it. Sigrid told to get to know her again, which is what I intend to do, but seeing her talk and smile with another man makes my wolf uneasy. If she wore my mark, perhaps I would not feel so worried.
She has thanked for loving her. She has agreed to co back to the North with . But she hasn’t told how she feels about . If I knew the depth of her feelings for , it would be easier to navigate the situation. And if I could stop feeling guilty about the fact that she’s leaving behind this whole life that she has built, it would help us both move on.
I’m willing to give her anything she wants. But a part of still feels that the only reason she’s making the sacrifice and returning to the North is our son.
When we hear the screams and Corrine grabs , telling to look after Finn, my first instinct is to protect her. Sothing is clearly wrong, and she’s heading straight toward the danger instead of away from it.
But then she pushes away as if she doesn’t need my help. As if she doesn’t need .
I watch her run, my chest tightening with an odd emotion.
Fortunately, the Ferris wheel cos to a stop right then. As Derrick and Finn get off, I pick up my son and thrust him into Derrick’s arms, ordering, "Follow and do not put him down."
Sensing the urgency of the situation, my right-hand man runs after .
There is a crowd of people gathered at the other end of the carnival. I shove past them, slling blood. I’m just in ti to catch Corrine before she falls to the ground, a keening sound leaving her lips.
There is a dead human in front of her, the sa one she was talking to earlier. People are looking our way, and since I don’t think she would want the human authorities to involve her in their investigation, I drag her away. She’s limp, not resisting.
"We have to leave," I tell Derrick.
He nods, glancing at Corrine. We ca here in her car, but now we head to the woods. It’ll be faster this way. I don’t tell Corrine to shift because she’s in shock. As my own wolf form erges, I throw her onto my back and begin running. Derrick whispers sothing to Finn before putting him down, and they both shift. I don’t know how long it will take us to reach the house, but my fur is already wet with my mate’s tears, and I can feel her grief.
Who was this man who was so important to Corrine? He looked older than her, but not so old that they could not be romantically entangled. Did Corrine share her affections with soone? She never said she had any lover. But if she did, why would she bring to the place where she was eting him? She’s not that inconsiderate.
I move faster, fueled by my anger and hurt. I want to ask her, but I can still feel her body vibrating with sobs, her sorrow thick in the air. My wolf is miserable, torn in two directions: anger at the idea that she might have taken a lover in these past eight years and helplessness in the face of her pain.
We reach the woods near her house, and I shift back. "Derrick, take Finn inside."
I’m holding Corrine in my arms. She tries to lower herself to the ground, but my grip on her tightens.
Finn is also aware of his mother’s strange behavior, and as soon as he shifts forms, he shakes his head. "I’m not going anywhere. Mom?"
His voice seems to shake sothing loose inside of my mate because she pushes against my chest, her voice low and thick. "Let down, Locke." Reluctantly, I release her, and she reaches into her bag, taking out a key. "Go with Derrick, Finn. We’ll be right there."
My son’s reluctance to leave his mother at a ti when he clearly knows she’s vulnerable fills with pride, but it’s also evident to that Corrine doesn’t want him here for this conversation.
"Why don’t you show Derrick how to make hot chocolate?" She smiles at Finn with so obvious difficulty. "I would really like a cup."
Having been assigned a task gives Finn so motivation. His voice is brighter now, the worry and fear disappearing. "I can do that. Co on, Derrick!"
He grabs Derrick and pulls him along as they head toward the house. I wait till they’re out of earshot before I look at Corrine. Her arms are wrapped around herself as she walks over to a broken log and sits down heavily on it.
I wait for her to speak, and finally, she says, "I’m sorry about that."
Her voice is rough, and if I had any lingering anger over my suspicions about her relationship with that human, it would fade away in the face of her agony.
"Who was that, Corrine? He was clearly important to you. Were you two...?" I lean against the nearest tree, watching her.
She appears to realize where I was going with that, and she shakes her head. "No. George wasn’t—We weren’t—" She lets out a sigh, the devastation on her face twisting sothing in my chest. "He was my contact in the police departnt. He was a human, but he knew about Finn and . I never told Erik or anyone else about him."
I frown. "Why not?"
I sll the salt before the tears slip down her cheeks. "Erik would have killed him. George was high up in the governnt, the deputy commissioner of the police. He was in a position where he could have potentially exposed our kind, but this entire ti, he never said a word. In fact, he helped with so of my cases. "She wipes her tears and gazes at the ground. Her voice is low. "But Erik would not have understood. George and I were friends. He has two sons. A wife who loves him deeply. And he would not have died like this if I had not called him tonight."
Her words end on a broken sob as she covers her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking.
Guilt, I realize. She feels both grief for the loss of her friend and guilt about his death. I walk over and crouch by her side. "You had no way of knowing, Corrine. His death had nothing to do with you."
She lowers her hands and looks at , her pretty eyes swimming in tears. "You didn’t see it, did you?"
"See what?" I ask, confused.
"His slit neck," she moans. "There wasn’t one slice, like from a knife, but five, like a set of claws."
I go still. "Are you—"
"Five very precise claw marks." She looks at , and the devastation in her eyes has my jaw hardening.
"A shifter? But I didn’t sll any—"
"Neither did I." She wipes her tears, her voice thick. "And we should have, right? I didn’t even sll anyone on him. I don’t know how they hid their scent, but it was definitely a shifter. No one had any reason to hurt him, Locke. No one from our world, at least."
"Soone did," I murmur gloomily. "We must have been followed."
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