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and she saw his handsome face go hard with temper and those dark eyes gleam with hate.
    She followed his glance and felt her world tilt.
    She had found her wolf. He was dressed in rags, with the sweat of labor staining them. His dark hair curled madly around a face smudged with stable dirt. And in his hand he carried not a sword but a currycomb.
    Their eyes met, and in that single instant she felt the shock of knowledge, and of disbelief.
    He took one step toward her, like a man in a trance.
    In three strides, Owen stormed to Thane and used the back of his hand to deliver a vicious blow that drew blood. For an instant, only an instant, rage flamed in Thane’s eyes. Then he lowered them, as Owen struck again.
    â€œOn your knees, worthless cur. You dare cast your eyes on a lady. You’ll be whipped for this insult.”
    Head down, Thane lowered to his knees. “Your pardon, my lord prince.”
    â€œIf you have time to stand and stare at your betters, you must not have enough to do.” Owen pulled out his riding crop, raised it.
    To Aurora’s disappointment, the wolf of her visions stayed down like a cowed dog.
    â€œPrince Owen.” Her knees shook, and her heart thundered. Every instinct had to be denied. She couldn’t go to him, speak to him. She must instead play the pampered lady. However it scored her pride, Aurora laid the back of her hand on her brow and pretended to swoon. “I can’t bearviolence,” she said weakly when he rushed back to catch her. “I feel . . . unwell.”
    â€œLady, I’m sorry you had to witness such a . . . display.” He looked down on Thane with derision. “This stableboy has some skill with horses, but too often forgets his place.”
    â€œPlease, don’t punish him on my account. I couldn’t bear the thought of it.” She waved a hand, and after a moment’s confusion, Cyra rushed forward with a bottle of salts to hold under Aurora’s nose.
    â€œEnough, enough.” Aurora nudged her away as the salts made her eyes water. “If you could assist me, my lord, out of the sun?”
    â€œForgive me, Lady Aurora. Let me take you inside, offer you some refreshment.”
    â€œOh, yes.” She leaned against him. “Traveling is so wearing, isn’t it?”
    She let him lead her away from the stables. Her heart was heavy to find her wolf, at last, and learn he had neither fang nor claw.
    Feigning light-headedness, she let herself be led across a courtyard and into the keep. And she noted every detail. The number of guards and their weapons, the richness of the tapestries and tiles, the placement of windows and doors and stairs.
    She noted the stone faces and downcast eyes of servants, and the demeanor of the other women, other ladies brought in like broodmares for display.
    Some, it seemed to her, were pleased to be considered worthy of Prince Owen’s regard. In others, she saw fear lurking in the eyes.
    Women were chattel under Lorcan’s reign. Property to be owned by father, husband, brother, or any man with the price. Any suspected of witchcraft were burned.
    Women were lesser creatures, Rohan had told her, in Lorcan’s world. All the better, she thought. He would hardly suspect that the True One was a woman, and that she bided under his roof until she could slit his throat.
    She fluttered and flushed and begged Owen that she be taken to her chambers to rest away the fatigue of the journey.
    When she had safely arrived there, she balled her hands into fists. “Simpleton. Bully. Bastard.” She took a deep breath and fought for control. “Calling him prince makes my tongue ache.”
    â€œHe was cruel to that boy,” Rhiann murmured.
    â€œIt wasn’t a boy, but a man. A man without a backbone.” With a hiss of rage, she dropped into a chair. The man of her dreams would not grovel in the dirt. She would not love a man who would beg pardon of an