SECRET OF THE WOLF By Susan Krinard

“Fit?” He took her by the shoulders and made her look at him. “You think that you are fatally flawed, don’t you, Johanna? You’ve made too many mistakes. You’ve misjudged. You don’t trust yourself, and you don’t expect anyone else to trust you, either. You have your theories, but you have no confidence in them. You’re just going to… give up.”

Her body trembled violently. “You don’t understand. If I’m wrong—”

“Have you suddenly lost all the skills you had when I first came to the Haven?”

She stared at him. “No, I—”

“You still know how to hypnotize me, I presume.”

“Yes.”

“That’s how you’ll call out Fenris, so that I can face him.”

“Yes, but—”

“We don’t have much time. You’d better get started.”

She pulled free, jerking up her chin with a touch of the old spirit. “I cannot be within your mind, Quentin. I can only begin the process. In the end, you must fight three battles—with Fenris, with Boroskov, and with yourself. You must ally with Fenris to win over Boroskov, become the guiding intellect behind Fenris’s hatred. Without you, there can be no victory.”

“Without you, we haven’t a chance in hell.” He grinned. “But damned if I don’t love a challenge.”

Chapter 24

Johanna’s heart broke into a thousand pieces and slowly, bit by bit, reassembled itself. It bathed in the healing warmth of Quentin’s grin, took strength from the enormity of his faith in her, grew until it stretched the walls of her ribs and expanded beyond the mere physical boundaries of flesh.

The gift of his trust held her heart safe, like a magical coffer made of precious gold and priceless stones hidden in a cave on the highest mountaintop. She’d asked that he be strong, and he was—strong in the face of fear she knew as well as she did her own. His great courage lay in his willingness to confront his fear, and challenge her to do the same.

She’d been sure, for so long, that love was a luxury she could ill afford. When she let down her guard, it had happened just as she predicted: Once she opened the gates to emotion, she could not close them again. Out spilled the fear, the doubts, the indecisiveness, the despair, weaknesses that stripped away the unassailable facade of Dr. Johanna Schell. The rational moorings upon which she’d built her life snapped and sent her crashing down into bedlam.

That Dr. Schell had been extinguished, and the new creature born out of the ferment was blind and deaf and nameless, searching desperately for identity in the midst of chaos, prepared to grasp at any anchor. She was close to becoming the very thing she most despised: dependent and helpless.

Looking into Quentin’s eyes, she recognized the truth. His only hope was to acknowledge and unite both halves of himself. She was no different.

She must summon her doctor’s skills to give Quentin the chance he needed, but she could no longer rely on the old definitions of competence. Rationality was not enough. If she rejected her emotions, her fear, her love, she would be fighting with only half a weapon. Dr. Johanna Schell had not disappeared; she had merely evolved.

Love was her anchor. Love for this man, who’d turned her life upside down, who’d begun to heal a physician who hadn’t learned how to heal herself.

Overcome with gratitude, Johanna stretched up to kiss him. He stepped just out of reach and averted his face before her lips touched his.

It hurt. She couldn’t guess which of her many shortcomings, or his regrets, made him withdraw. But what might have been a devastating blow was a minor bruise she could and must bear. Love remained steady and sound, unaffected by anything Quentin Forster, Fenris, or Boroskov could do or say.

“Please sit down, Quentin,” she said evenly. “If you are ready, we will begin.”

Aware that Boroskov might return at any moment, Johanna ushered Quentin into a trance as quickly as she dared and, with a whispered prayer, called Fenris out of the darkness.

It was like shouting into a chasm miles deep. Minutes ticked by. Johanna tried every trick she knew, and still Fenris didn’t answer.

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