Sianim 02 - Wolfsbane

choice in the matter.”
    “You could have won him over if you had wanted to, Aralorn.” He had not yet decided to forgive her. “The man’s not as stupid as he acts sometimes.”
    “Maybe,” she conceded. “But, as I said, he wasn’t the only reason I left. I was never cut out to be a Rethian noble-woman, any more than Nevyn could have lived in Darran as a wizard. Sianim is my home now.”
    “Do they know you’re a shapeshifter?” he inquired coolly.
    “No.” She grinned at him. “You know that the only people who would believe such a story are barbarians of the Rethian mountains. Besides, it’s much more useful being a shapeshifter if no one knows about it but me.”
    “Home is where they know all of your secrets, Featherweight, and love you anyway.”
    Aralorn laughed, and the tears that had been threatening since she heard about her father fell at last. When Falhart opened his arms, she took two steps forward and hugged him, kissing his cheek when he bent down. “I missed you, Fuzzhead.”
    He picked her up and hugged her, stiffening when he looked over her shoulder. He set her down carefully, his eyes trained on whatever he had seen behind her. “That wolf have something to do with you?”
    She turned to see a large, very black wolf crouched several paces behind her. The hair along his spine and the ruff around his neck was raised, his muzzle fixed in an ivory-fanged snarl directed at Falhart.
    “Wolf!” Aralorn exclaimed, surprise making her voice louder than she meant it to be.
    “Wolf!” echoed an archer on the walls, whose gaze was drawn by Aralorn’s unfortunate exclamation. The astonishment in his voice didn’t slow his speed in drawing his bow.
    Lambshold had acquired its name from the fine sheep raised here, making wolves highly unpopular in her father’s keep.
    Aralorn threw herself on top of him, keeping herself between him and the archer, knocking Wolf off his feet in the process.
    “Aralorn!” called Falhart behind her. “Get out of the way.”
    She envisioned the large knife her brother had tucked in his belt sheath.
    “Hart, don’t let them . . . ooff —Damn it, Wolf, stop it, that hurt—don’t let them shoot him.”
    “Hold your arrows! He’s my sister’s pet.” Falhart bellowed. In a much quieter voice, he added, “I think.”
    “Do you hear that, Wolf?” said Aralorn, an involuntary grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. “You’re my pet. Now, don’t forget it.”
    With a lithe twist, Wolf managed to get all four legs under him and threw her to one side, flat on her back. Placing one heavy paw on her shoulder to hold her in place, he began to industriously clean her face.
    “All right, all right, I surrender—ish . . . Wolf, stop it.” She covered her face with her arms. Sometimes he took too much joy in fulfilling his role as a wolf.
    “Aralorn?”
    “Irrenna.” Aralorn turned to look up at the woman who approached. Wolf stepped aside, letting Aralorn get to her feet to greet her father’s wife.
    Irrenna was elegant more than beautiful, but it would take a keen eye to tell the difference. There was more gray in her hair than there had been when Aralorn left. If Irrenna wasn’t as tall as her children, she was still a full head taller than Aralorn. Her laughing blue eyes and glorious smile were dulled by grief, but her welcome was warm, and her arms closed tightly around Aralorn. “Welcome home, daughter. Peace be with you.”
    “And you,” replied Aralorn, hugging her back. “I could wish it were happier news that brought me here.”
    “As do I. Come up now. I ordered a bath to be prepared in your room. Hart, carry your sister’s bags.”
    Futilely, Aralorn tried to keep her saddlebags on her shoulder, but Falhart twisted them out of her hands as he said in prissy tones, “A Lady never carries her own baggage.”
    She rolled her eyes at him before starting up the stairs into the keep.
    “Dogs stay out of the keep,” reminded Irrenna firmly when Wolf followed close on Aralorn’s heels.
    “He’s not a dog, Irrenna,” replied Aralorn. “He’s a wolf. If he stays out, someone’s going to shoot him.”
    Irrenna stopped and took a better look at the animal at Aralorn’s side. He gazed mutely back, wagging his tail gently and trying to look harmless. He didn’t quite make it in Aralorn’s estimation, but apparently Irrenna wasn’t so discerning because she hesitated.
    “If you shut him out now, he’ll only find a way in