Culgan – Freki Wolf Clan Book 2

Their bond is the stuff of legend. But dark forces are poised to tear them apart.

Long dreaming of becoming a gryphon rider and training to defend her clan, Roisin Hati is impatient for her sleeping inner wolf to awaken. She never expected a choking cloud of evil magic to do just that. When she finally opens her eyes, a huge black direwolf with stunning cobalt eyes is standing over her—Culgan, son of her beloved godparents.

Culgan freezes when he hears the first snarl of Roisin’s rising wolf in his mind, feels her fear in his bones. As a warrior defending the hidden Freki stronghold, bonding has never been a high priority. But something about the white-haired, dark-eyed Roisin rouses an irresistible drive to: Claim. Mate. Possess.

As Roisin navigates battle training, Culgan is at her side, guiding every step. The pull between them grows stronger until it ignites in a glorious mating union. But dark forces are gathering in the desert. A daemon hungry for revenge bargains with a goddess for the power to destroy the Freki. And the gryphon riders may have to make the ultimate sacrifice to save the kingdom.

Roisin stiffened when the rider dismounted. Culgan, the warrior she’d secretly crushed on for years, held an unconscious wolf in his arms.

“I need medical help.” His commanding baritone voice boomed throughout the room. It had the rippling effect of a stone falling into placid waters: everyone went into action.

She held her breath in admiration as other parts of her tingled. Roisin hadn’t seen Culgan in almost a year, and he was as handsome or maybe more so than she remembered. His glossy black hair, tousled from flying, fell across his forehead, giving him a boyish charm, yet his tall, muscular form and fluid stride were all powerful direwolf, and all dashing warrior. Her heart raced, and a warm sensation filled her chest. In awe, she grasped Sable’s hand, and both stood to watch.

Leaving her chair, Lady Cassandra sped toward Culgan. Treznor shouted at his adviser, “Barior, call the surgeons!”

The door guards and several petitioners milling in the room rushed to assist with the wounded wolf. As Barior made the call, Ranulf and Draven’s gryphons landed noisily in the courtyard.

Once, Roisin had been surprised to learn that Jade, Draven’s gryphon, being a female with beautiful dark green wings, was just as massive and strong as Crius. Why she thought this information was important, she couldn’t say. But it stayed with her.

Ranulf and Draven dismounted and joined the gathering group.

“Gosh, their armor is covered in blood.” Sable squeezed her hand harder. “They’re not limping or moving like they’re hurt. The blood must be from the wounded wolf. Let’s get closer. I want to see.”

Roisin tried to speak, but her throat had abruptly closed. Instinctively, she knew the reaction wasn’t caused by the surprise of seeing Culgan or a bout of nerves.

This was something else…dark…malevolent.

A peculiar and uncomfortable smell flowed through the air in her direction. It was unfamiliar and harsh. When the odor filtered into her sensitive nostrils, she recoiled, but couldn’t stop its advance. The scent hurt, scraped her tender sinuses, and curled around her throat as if it had form and substance.

Clutching her neck with both hands, she fought to exhale and eject the invasive smell. A hoarse gasp came out. Sable turned to her and grasped her shoulders. “Roisin? What’s wrong?”

Gods, she wanted to speak, but her vocal cords only managed a strangled whine as the evil stench invaded her.

“Help!” Sable called out, but her frightened voice didn’t carry. They hadn’t moved very far from the dais. With the commotion around them, no one in the audience hall could hear Sable’s plea.

Meanwhile, Roisin was drowning under the scent’s assault.

Dark magic.

Her knees buckled, and her vision filled with gray spots…