This time there was no mistaking the scene below. Victoria's maid struggled with the person grasping her wrist as they tugged her toward the forest. Francine glanced back at the manor and screamed Victoria's name again.

Renewed strength swept over her as she grabbed her cloak and rushed out of the room. Her heartbeat hammered as she ran out of the house. The cold air pricked her skin. She ran toward the trees where she'd seen her maid last.

"Francine! Where are you?"

No answer. Her heart jumped to her throat. Please Francine, answer me. I can't be imagining it this time.

Victoria's chest tightened and she ran faster. Fog grew dense in spots, making it almost impossible to see in front of her, but she surged forward, calling for her maid.

Deep into the woods she ran, not knowing where she was going. With every step she prayed she'd hear her maid's voice. Tree branches tore at her cloak and her hair, making more scratches on her face and arms. She didn't care.

After what seemed like hours, she stopped. She heaved quick breaths as her parched throat ached. Tears stung her eyes. This can't be happening. She hadn't dreamed it this time. She had seen her maid.

Victoria glanced around and listened to the night's sounds. Too quiet. Especially for the woods.

"Francine?" she called out again, her voice rasping.

When no answer came, she sobbed and sank to her knees onto the cold ground. Tears streamed down her cheeks and fell into the clasped hands she held against her mouth. She was not insane. She had heard and seen her maid.

In the distance, came the cry of a wolf. The white wolf?

She shook her head. No matter how everyone around her tried to convince her, she didn't believe in such legends.

Standing, her limbs quaked from both fear and fatigue. Her throat tightened, making it hard to swallow. Step by step, she tried to retrace her path back to the manor. If only she could remember which way she'd come.

The wolf howled again. Closer, this time.

Victoria clasped her hands to the material around her neck, bringing the garment closer together to ward off the coldness seeping in through her skin. With every step, she searched through the fog and strained to hear what was going on around her.

Close by, bushes rustled and twigs snapped.

She glanced at the trees, wondering if she should climb one to get out of the path of the wild animal. Victoria gulped. Another twig snapped, and the growl of an animal rumbled through the air. She froze in fear, afraid to even breathe.

Through the fog, yellow eyes floated toward her, and within seconds the outline of the wolf appeared. He bared his teeth as he stared at her, stalking closer.

Victoria whimpered. "Please, don't."

The animal stopped and tilted his head, no longer threatening her with his nasty snarl. His eyes blinked. Against her ribs her heartbeat thundered, shaking her body even worse. Would he pounce on her and kill her immediately?

This was definitely the calm before the storm.

Even through her fear, she realized she'd never seen a more beautiful animal. Pure white fur covered the animal. Perfect ears standing straight on top of his head. Bushy tail unmoving as the animal stared at her.

Several minutes passed. She dared not move for fear of provoking the animal any further. Yet the beast looked at her curiously, as if even he didn't quite know what to do.

If the rapid speed of her heart didn't kill her, the wolf certainly would. She couldn't let either happen. Silently, she prayed Justin would save her as he did the last time. But as each minute passed, her hopes sank lower.

Finally the white wolf moved, taking a step closer. Clutching her shaking hands against her chest, she squeezed her eyes closed and whimpered. It didn't matter that he wasn't growling, his very presence threatened her.

The heat of his breath fanned her cold hands. She waited for the pierce of his sharp teeth to sink into her skin. Instead, soft animal hair rubbed against her in a gentle movement.

She peeked at him, keeping as still as she could. His head tilted up toward her, his big, wondrous eyes stared. He whined and nudged her with his nose before rubbing his head on her leg again.

This was all so very strange. If she hadn't been mistaken, she would have thought the beast friendly. Yet hadn't he killed women already? Wasn't he the animal who killed Sarah, the Maitland's servant?

The white wolf sat in front of her and lifted his paw. Letting out a whine, he rested his paw on her leg. Her fearful heart jumped. The animal toyed with her, to be sure. She thought she'd heard once that these kinds of animals usually play with their victims before they killed.

Keeping his eyes on her, the wolf touched her again. He let out a soft whine and tilted his head. She tried swallowing the lump in her throat. What was wrong with this animal? He should be gobbling her up right now.

She licked her lips. "Wh—what do you want?" she whispered.

The wolf rose to all fours and stepped in front of her as if he was leaving. He took a couple of steps then turned and looked her way. He whined once more before taking two steps. Stopping, he peered at her through yellow, glowing eyes.

Perhaps all the rumors of the white wolf had been false. Obviously, the animal wasn't trying to hurt her, but help her. She clasped her cold, shaky hands and walked toward him on quaky limbs.

Victoria kept a few steps away from the wolf as he led her through the trees. Every so often, he turned and looked at her as if to make certain she followed.

Soon, the lights from the manor shone through the night like a beacon in the fog. Tears gathered in her eyes. Safe! At last.

The wolf stopped at the edge of the cluster of trees and motioned his head toward the house. Her lips quivered as she smiled at the animal, and with a shaky hand, softly patted his head. "Thank you."

She hurried to the house. It wasn't until she reached the door when the animal retreated into the ominous night. What a remarkable experience. She couldn't wait to tell the Maitlands how wrong they were about the white wolf legend.

Victoria's weary legs weakened as she staggered into the house and crumbled to the floor. Relief poured through her and she couldn't stop the sobs wrenching from her throat. Heavy footsteps pounded in the hallway and Roderick appeared.

He sucked in a quick breath and ran to her side. "Victoria. Good heavens, what happened to you?"

She couldn't speak. All she could do was cry and shake her head. Roderick lifted her in his arms and brought her to the drawing room's couch next to the fireplace.

He knelt beside her and rubbed her cold hands. "My dear, what happened? Were you attacked?"

"No." Her voice squeaked.

"Why is your face so pale?" His hands moved to cup her face. "You're as cold as ice."

She shook her head. "The white..." She cleared her throat. "White wolf."

His eyes widened. "Did you see him?"

She nodded. "He...saved me. I was l—lost in the thick—thicket and he found me."

Roderick's brows creased. "How did you escape?"

"The wolf didn't try to k—kill me. He showed me the way back to the m—manor."

He gasped. "Impossible."

"It's true, I tell you." She wrapped her arms around her, trying to control her shaking body.

"My poor, dear girl. Your ordeal has made you forgetful, or insane." He hurried to the liquor tray, poured her a drink, and brought it back. "Here. Drink this wine. It will calm your nerves, I assure you."

With his help, she lifted the glass to her lips and sipped. Fiery liquid scorched her throat as it slid down, making her cough. Roderick encouraged her to take another sip, and another. In the back of her mind, she reasoned that what she was drinking tasted too strong to be wine, yet in her confused state, she didn't say anything.

"What were you doing out at this time at night when we specifically told you not to go out after dark?" Roderick stroked her arm.

For a moment her brain shut down. Why had she been out? Then in a flash, she remembered her maid, and the haunting memory of her maid's voice calling Victoria's name.

She sat up and grasped Roderick's hand. "My maid, Francine. Someone has kidnapped her. We need to find her."

"What?" Roderick's eyes blinked as his brows creased. "Are you addled? Why would anyone kidnap your maid?"

She pushed past him to stand, but he held her on the couch. "You don't understand. I saw her outside. Someone dragged her toward the trees. I heard her calling me for help."

"Calm now, my pet," Roderick cooed as he ran his palm down the side of her face. "You have been through quite an ordeal. I'm certain your mind is playing tricks on you. Francine is probably helping Mrs. White as we speak."

"No!" Victoria tried to push past him again, but he held her to the couch with his upper body, pressing her against the cushions.

"Take another drink. I'm certain you'll feel better soon."

Tears gathered in her eyes as helplessness spread through her. "But, I did see her. She needs my help."

"Shhh..." He stroked her hair. "Calm yourself, now. I'll have Horace locate your maid posthaste, but you need to relax, my dear. It's not healthy to be in such a dither."

She nodded and took another sip of the strong wine. Slowly, warmth spread through her body, very relaxing. The liquid didn't burn as much this time as it coursed down her throat.

"Now there." Roderick smiled. "Feeling better?"

"A little."

As she sank into the cushions, she became heavy with exhaustion. The weight of Roderick's body continued to press against her, and she hoped she'd be able to remove him. Their position was quite improper, even if she had been through a mind-scrambling ordeal.

His gaze dropped to her lips. Fear sliced through her again, much different than when she'd been with the white wolf.