by Donna Grant
If it were someone from the Coven, they wouldn’t wait to attack. The witches would have gone after her and Margery as soon as they spotted them. Patience wasn’t a virtue of the Coven. The witches were actively looking for Hunters, waiting to take one of them out.
She wasn’t going to give them the chance.
Witches had all sorts of abilities with their magic. There were also other creatures who were drawn to magic—things that she preferred to stay away from at all costs.
Then there were the Varroki. Presumably, they were allies of the Hunters, but Ravyn had yet to meet one herself. She would hold off forming an opinion until that day came. It still boggled her mind that there were warlocks. Never did she believe that men could have magic.
She looked over her shoulder to check on Margery’s progress and found that her friend had reached the edge of the forest safely. Now, it was her turn. Ravyn took a deep breath and pivoted from behind the tree.
For several heartbeats, she didn’t move another inch as she waited for an attack. When none came, she slowly made her way to Margery. At the tree line, she looked across the expanse of land with trees dotting the terrain of rolling hills surrounding the castle.
“There are knights everywhere,” Margery whispered.
Ravyn looked for Carac’s blond hair, but she didn’t see him. A part of her was disappointed. She liked him. And she’d enjoyed the way he looked at her.
The desire she’d spotted in his green gaze had made her blood rush with need. It was too bad she didn’t have more time to get to know him. She suspected there were many layers to Carac, and she would’ve enjoyed peeling back each one to discover the real man beneath them all.
Suddenly, she frowned. While many of the knights stationed around the castle were from Carac’s army, there were many more who were John’s.
“We will have to wait until nightfall,” she whispered.
Margery nodded, her lips pursed. “If they’re smart, they’ll double the guards then.”
“They will still be easy enough to get through.”
“Unless Sybbyl is expecting us.”
That was a possibility, and Ravyn would take that into consideration when they approached the castle. She had hoped they would get in and out of the castle before Sybbyl suspected anything, but that wasn’t going to happen.
She glanced at Margery, knowing that her friend only remained to help her. The last thing Ravyn wanted was for Margery to get pulled into a battle with a witch, but there might not be any other way around it.
There was still the niggling feeling that they were being watched. It was one of the few times Ravyn wished she had some magic to locate who it was so she could dispatch them. Surely, if someone had seen them, the culprits would have attempted to detain them.
She and Margery were good at hiding, but so must be whoever observed them because she had yet to find any trace of them. That disturbed Ravyn greatly.
A witch would have no need for such tactics.
Unless the witch were trying to draw out a Hunter.
As far as Ravyn knew, Sybbyl was the only witch there, but she couldn’t continue thinking along that path. It would get her and Margery killed. She needed to prepare for other witches—which was easier said than done.
It was going to be a long day. They couldn’t remain where they were and leave their horses unattended. The mounts needed to be hidden so no one would stumble upon the mares and start looking around for her and Margery.
Margery shifted and looked back through the forest. “I know where to hide the horses.”
She pulled her gaze from the castle to nod at Margery. Then she went back to counting the knights—both Carac’s and John’s. Off to her right, she could just make out the tops of the tents from Carac’s camp. Was he there? Or was he inside the castle?
And while she didn’t know why, it was important to her that he not be involved with Sybbyl and John’s plot.
Chapter 10
Carac wasn’t sure what pushed him to search the forest surrounding the castle. The entire night, he had thought about what John and Sybbyl said to Ravyn.
While Ravyn had kept her expression at ease, there had been a wealth of goading from Sybbyl that didn’t quite add up. It was almost as if Sybbyl were pushing Ravyn toward something. But either Ravyn was smart enough to realize it and not give in, or she was oblivious to Sybbyl.
Either way, it gave him pause. That, added to Simon’s declaration of Sybbyl being a witch, and the last thing Carac could do was rest easy.
What little sleep he had was filled with dreams of Sybbyl killing everyone. Or him stripping Ravyn of her clothes and making love to her.
He alternated waking up in a cold sweat or with a cock so hard that he ached. Not even pleasuring himself eased the yearning for the ebony-haired beauty.
Before dawn, he and Simon were searching the woods looking for...he didn’t know what, but that didn’t matter. He knew he had to be there. It was the logical place for an attack to be waged. Or for someone to spy.
It wasn’t long before he spotted two figures moving swiftly through the forest. They were slim, their legs encased in leather with tall boots. The cloaks moved with them, never tangling or getting in the way.
He and Simon ducked out of view behind a fallen log as the duo drew closer. Carac struggled to get a look at one of their faces, but their hoods were pulled forward, and something covered the lower halves of their faces.
There was something about the way the taller one moved that he recognized. If only he could place how he knew it. Carac realized that the two were headed toward the edge of the woods, so he shifted closer to get a better look at them.
He was glad he had forgone his armor. Otherwise, he never would have been able to move without being heard. As it was, he must have spooked the pair, because the tall one drew up and flattened against a tree—mere feet from him. Seconds later, the second did, as well.
Carac froze from his position on his knees. He looked through the leaves of a bush to stare at the cloaked figure. When his gaze lowered to the crossbow, he frowned when he recognized it.
Then the person’s head turned, and he saw the brown eyes he had gazed into hours earlier. He felt as if he’d been kicked in the balls by his stallion.
Of all the people he’d thought he might find in the woods, Lady Ravyn wasn’t one of them—if that was her name at all.
The way her gaze kept sweeping the trees, she knew she was being watched. She looked right at him, but Carac was too well hidden for her to see him.
He didn’t understand why her face was covered, or why she was out there at all. When she finally moved away from the tree and followed her companion to the edge of the forest, he wished he were near enough to hear their conversation.
A few moments later, the shorter of the two retraced her steps, disappearing into the trees. Carac spotted Simon trailing her at a distance while keeping hidden.
It was just as well because he wasn’t going to leave Ravyn. Carac wanted to know what she was about. A part of him wanted to stand up and demand that she tell him everything. But he also knew that she was the type of person who would give him anything but the truth if challenged that way.
He’d never known such a woman. Despite his anger, his blood burned for her, the lust hotly rushing through him.
His gaze lowered to her shapely leg as she bent and the cloak fell away. His cock hardened instantly, his balls tightening as he stared, transfixed.
First witches, and now a lady running around in trousers. Carac didn’t know what to make of it, but he knew if he remained near Ravyn, he might find out.
After a bit, she stood and finally pulled her gaze away from the castle to look behind her. Once more, her eyes scanned the trees. She felt his stare.
She moved with skill and grace, her training obvious. But who would teach a woman—nay, two women—such things? Now he knew that the crossbow Ravyn carried wasn’t just for show.
His legs began to cra
mp, but he didn’t move and take the chance of alerting her to his presence. Nearly an hour passed before the second woman returned. She made her way to Ravyn and handed her a waterskin and a small bag before taking up position farther away.
Carac searched for Simon, but his friend took longer to return so as not to be seen. Neither had food or water, but it wouldn’t be the first time they’d gone hours without.
Just as Carac prepared to remain however long Ravyn did, he heard his name being shouted. He grimaced when a patrol riding from his camp toward Bryce Castle diverted to the forest.
More of his men were coming from behind with his and Simon’s horses in tow. He watched as Ravyn and her friend hurried away. Carac rose from his hiding place and waited for his men to find him.
“We’ve been sent to find you, Sir Carac,” one of the men said.
Carac raised a brow as Simon joined him. “By who?”
“Lord John,” came the reply. “He’s at your tent.”
Simon sighed loudly as their horses were brought to them. Carac mounted, his gaze moving in the direction where Ravyn had disappeared. No doubt she was long gone. He hated that he wouldn’t be able to see what she was up to, but with her interest in Bryce Castle, if he stuck around long enough, he just might find out.
He spun his horse and nudged it into a gallop as the group left the forest—and Ravyn—behind. Carac rode hard to his tent, and just as his men had told him, John was waiting inside. Along with Sybbyl.
Carac entered with Simon on his heels. Carac’s gaze briefly landed on Sybbyl before moving to John. “My lord. What can I do for you?”
John stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a deep frown marring his brow. “Lady Ravyn and her servant departed this morning.”
“She did state that she would only be there for one night,” Carac said.
Sybbyl walked around his bed, her eyes lingering on it before fastening on him. “It was the way she left.”
“On her horse?” Carac didn’t know why he felt the need to defend Ravyn or be so sardonic to Sybbyl. It just came out.
A smile briefly pulled at John’s lips before he cleared his throat when Sybbyl glared at him. “Lady Ravyn left at dawn without a word to us.”
Carac crossed his arms over his chest. “While I admit that could border on impolite, I do not understand the fuss.”
“We are...concerned...about her,” Sybbyl said.
It was a load of shite, but Carac didn’t call her on it. Yet. “Because she travels alone?”
“Not exactly,” John said. He let his arms drop to his sides as he shrugged. “Sybbyl believes that Ravyn might not have been entirely truthful with us.”
Carac ignored the witch entirely. “I did not get any such feeling from her. Besides, what reason would Lady Ravyn have for being deceitful? She stayed one night and asked for nothing.”
Silence filled the tent after his question, which was his intention. He wanted to force both John and Sybbyl to admit to something. And they couldn’t blame Ravyn for anything without revealing their complicity.
Sybbyl came to stand between him and John. It irritated Carac to such a degree that he had to restrain himself from physically shoving her out of the way.
“I do not believe she is who she says she is,” Sybbyl stated.
Carac still refused to look at her. He shrugged and told John, “She did nothing untoward to anyone at the castle.”
“I want her found and returned to me.”
Sybbyl’s demand sent Carac’s fury to the boiling point. The witch wasn’t married to John, nor had she hired Carac, so he didn’t have to listen to her demands.
“Did you hear me?” Sybbyl asked, taking a step closer to him.
“Carac,” John said as he came up beside Sybbyl. “I am asking you to find Lady Ravyn and her servant.”
While he had no intention of doing as they asked, Carac wouldn’t outright tell John or Sybbyl that. If he did, they might go to someone else. This way, Carac could confront Ravyn and warn her. Of what, he didn’t yet know.
But it didn’t bode well that Sybbyl and John wanted her brought back.
“Is that all?” Carac asked in a flat tone.
John glanced at Sybbyl. “There is one more thing. I want you at Bryce Castle.”
“Why?” he demanded.
John swallowed, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment. “To keep watch over things when I am not there. I want the transition to go smoothly.”
Carac wanted to ask if Randall were still alive because as long as he was, John couldn’t do anything. But Carac remained silent as Sybbyl continued to stew in her anger.
John cleared his throat. “One more thing. You will take Lady Sybbyl’s orders as if they are mine. At all times.”
At this, Carac wanted to balk. He lowered his gaze to the witch to find her smirking. “I cannot find Lady Ravyn and be at the castle at the same time.”
Sybbyl lifted her chin, her blue eyes glacial as she glared. “I have no doubt that you will think of something.”
She stormed past him with John following. Carac dropped his arms and turned to watch them leave. Only then did Simon give a shake of his head.
“Bloody hell,” Simon said.
“You do not know the half of it.”
“I think it was wise not to tell them about the pair we saw in the forest. I know you will not believe me, but the one I followed was a woman.”
Carac looked at his friend and twisted his lips. “And the other was Ravyn.”
Simon’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“I would know her eyes anywhere.”
“What are you going to do?”
Carac thought about Ravyn’s interest in Bryce Castle, as well as Sybbyl’s and John’s. “I am headed to the castle.”
“What of the women? Is Sybbyl right? Is Ravyn lying?”
Carac lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “You saw Ravyn’s crossbow. Given the way she held it, she knows how to use it.”
“Aye, and I saw the way the two moved. They are skilled.”
Carac nodded. “I agree.”
“Do you think they might know Sybbyl is a witch?”
Though Carac still hadn’t seen Sybbyl do anything...witchy, he had no cause to doubt his friend. And Simon’s question was plausible. “They might. Sybbyl did not like Ravyn. I thought it was merely because John could not keep his eyes off Ravyn, but I think it might go deeper than that.”
“I’d like to talk to Ravyn,” Simon said.
“Me, as well.” Carac actually wanted to do much more than talk. He yearned to ravage her lips in a kiss that stole her breath and made her soften against him.
Simon shifted to face him. “Carac, be careful around Sybbyl. You did not see what I witnessed yesterday.”
“You think she would harm me?”
“In a heartbeat.”
Carac swallowed as he thought over his friend’s words. “I will be more controlled in the future.”
“All of us need to be wary of her. See for yourself when we go to the castle. Those that witnessed her slaughter will not meet her gaze or even look at her.”
Carac ran a hand through his hair. “Send six men to look for Ravyn and her partner. Tell them nothing more than that the women need to be found and returned to John for their safety.”
“You are actually going to do it?” Simon asked with a frown.
He grinned. “After what I saw today, I would like to see anyone take Ravyn or her friend against their will. No one will find them.”
Simon smiled and ducked from the tent to carry out the order. That gave Carac a moment alone to think about things. Simon’s warnings about Sybbyl should be heeded, but Carac also needed to see things for himself. It was time he went to Bryce Castle and learned the fate of Lord Bryce for himself.
Chapter 11
Blackglade
* * *
How could one woman make him lose patience so quickly? Armir drew in a deep breath and slowly rel
eased it, trying to rein in his growing ire as Malene stared at him.
He couldn’t look into her large, soft gray eyes for long. She wasn’t the first Lady of the Varroki he had served, but she was the first who had the blue radiance in both hands.
From the moment he saw Malene, he’d recognized the fierceness within her. Her quiet strength.
She had known nothing of magic. Even now, he wondered why she had been chosen as Lady, but the longer she ruled the Varroki, the more he understood.
She wasn’t rash or reckless. She was brave and steadfast. While she fought the confines of her role, she worried over the people who weren’t hers.
“Admit I am right,” Malene said, a small smile curving her lips.
Armir briefly looked away. The constant nearness to her had been eating at him for years. Her innocence was as breathtaking as her beauty. But the power of the magic growing inside her was glorious.
It magnified her loveliness so that anyone near was utterly mesmerized by her. And he was no exception. Her talk of changing the various positions of the Varroki to allow them to take a spouse brought mixed feelings.
He agreed with her. It was actually something he had been thinking about for a few years. His mistake had come when, for the briefest of moments, he’d allowed himself to imagine taking her to his bed. And that simply couldn’t happen.
“Armir.”
He shuttered his thoughts and made himself look into her eyes. Malene stood wearing a gown of soft green with an intricate ringed girdle resting on her shapely hips before falling down the front of her skirt.
Her flaxen hair was plaited into several tiny braids on the right side of her head while the rest of her mane hung down her back. Her heart-shaped face was utter perfection from her smooth skin to her large eyes to her high cheekbones to her plump lips.
“You are correct,” he finally admitted. “You have the power to change our laws.”
Her smile was effervescent and made him catch his breath. “Tell me why no other Lady has altered any of the laws?”