Also by Coreene Callahan
Paranormal Romance
Dragonfury Series
Fury of Fire
Fury of Ice
Fury of Seduction
Fury of Desire
Historical Romance
Circle of Seven Series
Knight Awakened
Knight Avenged
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright © 2013 by Coreene Callahan
Originally published as a Kindle Serial, June 2013
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
ISBN-13: 9781477848852
ISBN-10: 1477848851
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013910329
For the fabulous Christine Witthohn—you believed in this book from the very beginning and never once let the dream of it go. For that, I will always be grateful. You are, and forever will be, a rockstar to me.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
EPISODE ONE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
EPISODE TWO
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
EPISODE THREE
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPISODE FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPISODE FIVE
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPISODE SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EPISODE SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EPISODE EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
EPISODE NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
EPISODE TEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KINDLE SERIALS
SNEAK PEEK: KNIGHT AVENGED
EPISODE ONE
CHAPTER ONE
Show No Fear
NORTHERN ENGLAND – 1276 A.D.
“Show no fear.” The whispered words drifted through the shadows of the deserted castle corridor. “You’ll be fine. Just keep your wits about you.”
Lady Aurora de Marquise took a deep breath and wiped damp palms against her faded skirt, not surprised she’d resorted to talking to herself. If ever a situation warranted self-encouragement, this one, without a doubt, qualified. She needed to bolster her courage. A summons from her aunt so late in the evening was not to be taken lightly. Raising a hand, she rapped on the smooth surface of the wooden door with the faint hope her knock would go unanswered.
Luck, unfortunately, was not with her.
Answering the shrill command to enter, Aurora pushed the door open and crossed the threshold half fearing her aunt would once again throw something at her. Finding Lady Gelsa’s rotund form settled in a cushioned armchair in front of the hearth, Aurora breathed a silent sigh of relief. Long-standing habit, however, caused her to make sure both of her aunt’s hands were in plain sight before closing the door behind her.
“Do not loiter by the door. Did I not just tell you to come in?” Beady eyes narrowed on her, her aunt huffed. “Honestly, you are such a dimwitted girl.”
Gritting her teeth, Aurora folded her hands and bowed her head, wrestling with the urge to throttle the viper draped in finery. The rich velvet had come from her mother’s cupboard. Another treasure stolen from her birthright, Marquise Manor. Remembering the rape of her homestead made Aurora’s heart ache and her temper boil. Never a good thing. Anger wouldn’t aid her. Outsmarting her aunt, however? Aye, that would do wonders. So instead of loosing the sharp edge of her tongue, she counted to ten and obeyed, moving to stand before the woman responsible for her cruel treatment over the last year.
Chin level, Aurora dipped into a shallow curtsy. “My lady, you called for me?”
“Would you be here if I didn’t? I erred…dimwitted does not begin to describe you.” Upper lip curled in disdain, Lady Gelsa shook her head. “Do not imagine because you are my elder sister’s only child, I have any great love for you. You carry the filthy taint of your father. Indeed, I can smell the stink from here.”
Fisting her hands in her skirt, Aurora struggled to cage her reaction. She was being taunted—and very well at that—but refused to give her aunt the smallest amount of satisfaction. Under no circumstances would she rise to the bait. “Then I will retire from your presence. I’ve no wish to offend your delicate sensibilities.”
“You are an insolent, uncouth wretch, but I see no way around your difficult nature. Perhaps my husband will be able to sweeten your disposition.” The flames in the hearth reflected in Lady Gelsa’s eyes, giving Aurora the shivers. The predatory gleam reminded her too much of her uncle…and his hobby. She flinched, hearing the screams that often came from the bowels of the castle inside her head. One side of her aunt’s mouth curved up, her enjoyment plain to see. “But then, I did not call you to me to wonder on my lord’s methods, but to discuss your incompetent ways.”
Aurora stiffened and, raising an arm, caught the heavy brocade her aunt flung at her before it struck her in the face. As she turned the cloth over in her hands, understanding struck. God be with her. Lady Gelsa’s played a cunning game. The gown was one of many her aunt had ordered her to embellish with thread and precious beads. With no talent in the art of embroidery, Aurora had given the task to Nate, one of her uncle’s servants who served her in secret. His skill with a needle was unparalleled, and the gown had been beautifully decorated when Aurora inspected his handiwork before having it delivered to Lady Gelsa. How the thread had become torn between its delivery earlier in the day and now was no great mystery.
“As you can see, your skill leaves much to be desired. I am but wondering how I am to deal with your inadequacies and laziness.” Lady Gelsa smirked and waved a plump hand in front of her.
Her hands clenched in the cloth, Aurora stared at her aunt with rising fury, knowing Lady Gelsa relished the chance to punish her for a crime not her own. ’Twas forever the same. Same game. Same outcome too. She knew the game well. Had endured the sport from the moment she’d been forced from her home and into her uncle’s keep after the death of her parents. Experience her told it wouldn’t end well. Any protestation she made would fall on deaf ears.
Just as it had every other time.
Too bad hope sprang eternal. Like a rampaging disease, it sank deep, making her believe in the impossible. No matter how bad the circumstance, she still possessed options. Could still decide the path and set something better in motion. So aye. She must at least try to avoid the inevitable. Attempt to
right the wrong and defend herself. All while quelling the urge to call her aunt a liar.
“My lady, I know not what—”
“Ah, me, perhaps. But then, here is my lord,” her aunt murmured, tone full of anticipation. “I am certain he, in his benevolence, can put forth a suggestion.”
A sudden chill enveloped the chamber.
Icy fingers steeped in apprehension crawled the length of her spine. She drew a shallow breath as it ghosted over the nape of her neck, freezing her from the inside out. Struggling to contain her reaction, she turned to face the man poised at the entrance of the room. The instinct to flee warred with the knowledge she would never reach safety in time.
Lord Cedric of Garard Castle was not what one supposed a monster might look like. But in deed and demeanor he was precisely that…a vulture without mercy or conscience. Rail-thin and slight of stature, he was razor sharp in both mind and body. His cool grey eyes missed nothing and the hawkish bend to his nose gave him the appearance of a ravenous predator, one whose rapacious response was roused by the scent and promise of those weaker than he.
“Good eve, wife.” One brow raised, Lord Cedric’s ravening gaze settled on Aurora. “Troubles?”
Aurora’s teeth started to chatter. She clenched her jaw, stilling her involuntary response to the beast gliding on elegant paws into the chamber.
“My lord, I am forced to deal with her incompetence once more,” Lady Gelsa said, a whine in her voice. As her husband reached her, the glory of her admission sparked in the depths of her dark eyes. “’Struth! How am I to serve you well when this…this unskilled, disrespectful servant is dealt me?”
Thin lips pursed, Lord Cedric stroked his narrow chin to its point. “A penance, mayhap, to soothe your ire and restore your good humor?”
Lady Gelsa nodded. “As ever, my lord, you understand my difficulties and seek to settle my nerves.”
“My lord, I did nothing wrong. I have not—”
Lord Cedric stepped forward.
Aurora tensed and tried to back away. An excellent plan, but for one thing. Caught between the hearth and Lady Gelsa’s chair, she had nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide either. She sucked in a quick breath as his hand came down in a rapid arc. The cool rush of air hit her first. His fist struck second. Aurora’s head snapped to one side. As she reeled toward the fire, blood washed into her mouth. The metallic flavor flooded her senses, slid down her throat and…
She raised her hand to the gash on her bottom lip. God. How sad. She’d been hit so many times by him, the lash of his knuckles hardly hurt at all anymore. Even so, she prepared for the next volley.
The one she knew was coming.
Lord Cedric’s temper never cooled with just one strike. As always, he was after more than just her silence. Nothing but total subjugation would do. But pride wouldn’t let her surrender, and as he advanced she shifted, meeting his attack, trying to protect herself, praying she won the contest of wills. She was due for a victory. Just this once. Needed to hold the line—prove to herself along with her uncle she would never be cowed.
Aurora dodged another blow. He launched the next, punching her in the ribcage. Air left her lungs in a rush. He hit her again. And again…until she folded and lay unmoving on the stone floor, her uncle’s boot pressed against her throat.
“You do not speak until I have given you leave to do so.” A snarl in his tone, his lip curled off his front teeth. “Have I yet to teach you this lesson?”
Aurora remained silent.
Breathing hard, he wiped the spittle from the corner of his mouth. “It seems not. You are a good-for-nothing. Mayhap some time at the quarry will teach you to be mindful of your betters. What think you, wife?”
“Aye, the quarry, husband. A day spent in the dust will teach her some manners.”
Aurora blinked away the sting of tears and stared at her uncle, understanding dawning. God’s teeth, it had all become so clear. He sought her death. ’Twas the only reason he would send her to such a place without protection. Between the daily accidents that plagued the quarry and the rough assortment of men who worked there, she wouldn’t survive to see sunset.
But Aurora knew she would never make it that far.
She saw the truth in her uncle’s eyes. The quarry was merely a cover, a clever ploy to hide his true intent. She swallowed, her mind providing a terrible picture—the screams below stairs, all the injuries she’d tended, the damage her uncle enjoyed inflicting with his irons and firepit.
Aurora clenched her hands. The sharp tips of her nails cut into the center of her palms.
Lord Cedric smiled and lifted his boot from her throat. “Go and keep from my sight. We will see to your punishment on the morrow.”
The morrow. How sad that she would never see its dawn. Unless, of course, she attempted the unthinkable—the near impossible—and saved herself before time ran out.
CHAPTER TWO
The Great Escape
Hurrying down the corridor, Aurora glanced behind her. Torches flickered in wall stands, casting ominous shadows across stone walls, and…
She bit her bottom lip and paused mid-step. Darkness a living thing around her, she peered into a jut-out in the hallway, one of many that housed murder holes above the guard house. She blew out a long breath. All clear. None of her uncle’s men stood deep in shadow. No footsteps echoing behind her either. No one following at all. Thank the saints. For her plan to work, her uncle must remain none the wiser. A difficult endeavor, considering nothing escaped Lord Cedric’s notice inside the castle walls.
Stomach churning, she halted in front of her chamber door. Unable to stop herself, she glanced both ways…yet again. Just to be certain. Still empty. Exhaling in a soft rush, she depressed the pitted handle and cracked the door, slipping inside with the hope that— “By the saints, where have you been?”
Aurora jumped in alarm. Frozen just inside the door, she squinted into the gloom. A sudden burst of light made her blink as a single taper flared in her tiny chamber. “For the love of God, Nate! You scared me.”
“I am sorry,” her friend murmured, expression contrite. “But ’tis late and I have been waiting…in the black. When you were not here, I worried.”
Aware of Nate’s aversion to dark places, she cringed. “I did not mean to leave you here so long, but I was called to my aunt and could not get away sooner.”
“What happened? Are you all right?”
Rubbing her bottom lip, Aurora fingered the cut left by her uncle. “Aye. I have survived far worse, but we are going to have to move up our plans.”
“What? Nay, Rory, we are not ready.”
Shaking her head, she squeezed Nate’s arm and drew him toward the narrow cot that sat against the wall farthest from the door. Perched on its edge, she patted the spot next to her and waited for him to take his seat. “I know, but we cannot wait. I have little chance of surviving what my aunt and uncle have planned on the morrow.”
Nate swallowed. “What?”
“The quarry…but I will not make it that far.” She rubbed the chill from her arms. Fear rising, she remembered the maid they’d helped escape in the spring. “Do you remember Rebecca?”
“Dear God, nay.” Her friend shook his head, not wanting to relive the horror any more than she did.
She closed her eyes. God help her. There had been so much blood. So many marks and burns and— “He would not dare,” Nate said, a quiver in his voice. “Lord William—”
“My father’s friend has sickened, Nate. ’Tis said he is not far from death. Uncle Cedric grows bold with that knowledge. Nay, Lord William can no longer protect me. Ready or nay, we must make do with what we have already gathered,” she said, keeping her voice low, hoping her calm tone would prevent him from plunging headlong into panic.
Aurora understood his nature well—knew it was not a courageous one—but loved him anyway. She didn’t care that he was older than her. The five years separating their births didn’t matter. Regardless of age and e
xperience, she must be the one to lead the way. To forge ahead and protect them both. ’Twas a precarious place to be in. Particularly since her plan endangered his life. The danger, though, was not enough to make her hesitate. Servant or nay, Nate was her only friend, and she refused repay his loyalty by leaving him to languish in cruelty—to be crushed beneath the weight of her uncle’s rule.
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