Friday 10th October 1766, Drumin Castle, Scotland

Joseph Cornishe stared out of the castle window and took in the bleakness of the Highlands. The sky was iron grey, the clouds like slabs of slate, producing a gloom that muted even the green of the forest that faced him across the dark fields. His bones still ached from the extraordinary efforts of the past few months, yet he supposed he should feel relaxed now. He’d finally found Elizabeth, the woman he’d thought he’d lost forever. But an emptiness lurked within him, something lacking that he couldn’t put his finger on.

He put all that aside and wondered again how he’d achieved any of this. With help, of course. Help from people he hadn’t known existed until recently, the sons he didn’t know about, and creatures he could never have dreamed of. They’d all helped him to find Elizabeth, to claim her. Or was it, to be claimed by her? Hadn’t she orchestrated the whole thing? Wasn’t it she who had called him and their son Heth back to her side when she needed them?

His thoughts wandered to the people he’d lost on this adventure. His sons, Cyrus and Gabriel, had both gone their own way for different reasons. Could he have done anything differently? Would he have done anything differently? And the French werewolf, Sophie. Her death was his responsibility. Possibly she would return, if the magic that Killerton promised could be performed. But that didn’t remove his culpability. He’d come so close to getting Cyrus to have faith in him, to accept their relationship, only to have it torn away by a single silver bullet.

“What is the matter, my darling?”

His breath caught in his throat at the sound of her voice and he turned. Elizabeth, standing before him, unchanged from the time he’d first met her, and the time he’d lost her, forty or more years ago. It had been a few weeks since they were reunited, but he still hadn’t got used to it. Her radiance was stronger even than he remembered; her strength greater than he could ever have imagined. And his love was conjured back too, like a fire in his chest. All the passion and longing he’d felt for her came back to him the moment he’d set eyes on her again. But what, then, was this hesitation he felt?

“Two of my sons are lost to me,” he said.

She held out her hands and he grasped them. “Where are they?”

Joseph shook his head. “London, Yorkshire.”

Elizabeth showed no sign of emotion. “There’s much to do here. We must protect this place. Have faith that your sons will find their way back to you.”

Cornishe wasn’t sure they wanted to come. He took a deep breath and nodded. In the decades since he’d lost Elizabeth he’d been his own person: a sugar plantation overseer, a successful man of the trade. But now they were reunited, he felt the conviction that she was his superior. His Queen. Perhaps the last Queen of the Werewolves.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he said.

Elizabeth pulled him towards the door. “Come, let us walk the grounds together. We have much to discuss.”

Outside the castle the air was bracing and would have no doubt seemed cold to a mortal, but Joseph felt nothing. There was no sign of human habitation for miles around them, and the nearby forest was extensive, making this a perfect place for their kind: lycanthropes, werewolves. When they transformed they could run free, to hunt and kill without interference.

“It will be full moon in a week,” said Elizabeth. Her red hair shone despite the greyness of the light. “Soon we will take to the woods again together.”

This lifted Joseph’s heart. His wolf was close to the surface and he yearned to set it free. Being reunited with Elizabeth in human form was one thing, but in their wolf shapes they had a different kind of bond. His heart hammered with the anticipation of it.

“But in the meantime, we must prepare for the days and weeks ahead.”

Joseph was still in recovery from the battle, and Elizabeth’s talk of preparation threw him. “Prepare for what, exactly?”

“Retribution,” said Elizabeth. “We defeated the vampires here, but they are only one branch of an organisation that stretches across Europe. When they learn of this defeat, there will be a response. We must be ready for that.”

Joseph had heard this from Elizabeth already, but he was still finding it hard to acknowledge. After all the violence and mayhem he’d been through in the past few months, the thought of more conflict, from even more powerful enemies, made his heart sink.

“We will need as much strength as we can muster,” she continued. “What resources do we have here?”

“There’s myself and Heth,” said Joseph.

Elizabeth’s eyes glinted at the mention of their rediscovered son.

“Then there’s Fyodor, the werebear we met in Yorkshire. His power is great. And the vampire Caspar, who has grown close to the servant, Dorathea. And Rose, of course.”

“Ah yes, the black witch. Now there’s something I’ve not encountered before. Her magic is already extremely powerful. And her potential is even greater. We are truly fortunate to have her at our side.”

Joseph nodded. “Arawak, the native Jamaican, has Cornishe blood in him. He is not a werewolf, but he is stronger than a mortal.”

They approached a large flat rock embedded in the ground that ramped upwards to end a few feet up from the earth. Elizabeth let go of Joseph’s hand and padded up to the top of the ramp, then stood with her hands on her hips, gazing out across the bleak terrain that surrounded the castle. “It all adds up to a force to be reckoned with,” she said.

Cornishe watched Elizabeth as she stood atop the rock, her figure silhouetted against the grey sky. A mixture of emotions swirled within him: love, admiration and a hint of unease.

I should be overjoyed, he thought. I’ve found her at last, after all these years. Yet here we stand, on the precipice of even greater danger.

He closed his eyes briefly, imagining a different scenario. A quiet life on his Jamaican plantation, the two of them at peace after decades of separation and strife. But as he opened his eyes and gazed at Elizabeth’s determined stance, he knew such dreams were futile. She was a force of nature. And he? He was bound to her by love, loyalty and a shared destiny he couldn’t deny.

Cornishe squared his shoulders and climbed up to join Elizabeth on the rock. As he stood beside her, looking out at the misty landscape, he thought of the battles to come: both against their enemies and within his own heart.