A slight smile crossed his lips and then disappeared. “Take her to my chambers,” he ordered without breaking eye contact.
He then leaned in and kissed her nose.
Surprised, she blinked and shook her head.
Unnerved by the sudden change in the sorcerer, she watched him disappear into the crowd surrounding Coira.
Her arm was yanked to the left and she allowed a shorter guard to take her into the drafty castle. She followed him mindlessly. He could have led her straight into the large fireplace in the Great Hall, and she would not have noticed. Her jumbled thoughts held mixed emotions, her body, stupefied. What had happened to her this morn?
She found her dreams were real. She was no longer a maiden and could be pregnant. She would be sacrificed this eve for a lady she did not know. And she, herself, just killed the closest thing she ever had to a friend.
An uneven stone caused her to trip and kick her toe. “Ow.” Gavenia bent to clutch her foot.
She could not handle any more!
The last vestiges of control began to slip. Don't break down, do not break down.
She took a deep breath and straightened herself. The guard looked at her strangely and opened a large chamber door. She held her head high and walked in with all the dignity she could muster.
This was his chamber. She knew it before she entered. The sorcerer's commanding presence was throughout the room. A large four-post oak bed dominated the chamber with a stately chair in the opposite corner. A wooden carved chest sat at the base of the bed while a wide table held several candles with ink quill and paper.
His chamber was clean and the rushes fresh, unlike the Great Hall downstairs. It was the one thing she did notice. The Campbell's castle was filthy. His house steward was obviously inadequate. Perhaps, if the sorcerer...
"Argh!” Stop thinking about him.
Gavenia twisted in a circle and landed on the bed in frustration. The fur coverlet cradled her weary body. Wrapping the pelt around her shoulders, she snuggled further into its warmth and his masculine scent enveloped her. She could not escape the way her heart skipped at the thought of him laying naked in the same spot she was in.
Why do I persist on thinking about him? Stop it! Stop it!
The door opened and she hastened to her feet. Her face felt warm from thoughts of him.
She must hate him.
Stay angry at him.
Aye, that was the best way. She could not see who came into the room, the bed curtains obstructing her view of the door, but she knew it was him. She could feel his presence enter the chamber. The sound of heavy boots came closer.
She balled her trembling hands into fists. She would not be afraid or allow herself anticipation.
The sound of boots stopped.
He was close.
Leaning to the side, she tilted her head. What was taking him so long? Was he waiting for her to come to him? She shifted from foot to foot. Waiting. It was agonizing.
Show yourself!
A hand emerged from around the corner of the bed. His palm held outwards, inviting her to take it. To accept him as her conqueror. Her master.
Nae! She must not. Her heart and body screamed to accept while her mind fought for control. He betrayed her and made her desire him. He was dangerous. He was her enemy.
While her mind flicked through all the reasons why he was no good, her quivering hand slowly reached for his. Her fingers glided across his warm palm. Her body heated with hope.
She was a fool.
He gently pulled her around the bedpost and held her hand to his chest while his other arm snaked around her waist. Curse his devil blue eyes and the black heart that beat beneath her hand. What was she doing? Her body melted to his hard contours. How could she not know this man was real and not a dream?
"Have you enchanted me?” she softly asked.
He smiled. “Nae, milady. Not this time."
"Then ... then why do I feel this way?” Gavenia raised her chin, challenging him to explain. Dear Goddess, he smelled wonderful. Again, his breath held a slight scent of mint. It was familiar and soothing.
He did not answer and looked as puzzled as she did.
"I apologize for Coira,” he said and released Gavenia. He turned toward a trestle upon the side table.
Without the warmth of his arm around her, a chill crept over her body, creating bumps upon her skin. Gavenia shook her head. “I do not understand any of this."
"Apparently, Coira was vexed with jealously."
"I did not want to..."
"I know.” He handed her a goblet of red wine. “I saw from up here."
"You were watching me?” She took the wine from him, her gaze never leaving his.
"Aye."
He stood close to her. The masculine scent of his body enveloped her senses, causing her nipples to erect with expectation.
"Come, let us enjoy one another before we part.” He sat on the bed and held out his hand. “I will give you pleasure like you have never had before."
"You mean, before you kill me,” she said.
The words washed over her like highland snow. She stepped away. Her stomach turned with the knowledge this could be her last day on earth. It would be easy to succumb to his charms, his lovemaking. But she must not. Would not make love to the enemy, no matter how her body responded to his nearness.
A cheeky grin crossed his face, giving him a boyish appeal. “No woman has ever resisted me."
"I am not any woman.” She sat in the hard chair and crossed her arms. “I am a Celtic witch."
The sorcerer pushed to his feet, his face sober. “So be it, milady.” He opened the door. “I will have my personal guard escort you to the eve's repast."
Without a backward glance, he left.
Gavenia gripped the chair arms to stop herself from running after him.
* * * *
The stars twinkled in the sky by the time the door unlocked and an elderly lady with gnarled hands shuffled in. She carried a satin ruby gown and slippers. After executing a curtsy, she smiled at Gavenia and laid the gown on the bed.
"Would you like me to dress you, milady?"
"Nae, ‘twould not be necessary,” Gavenia replied. “You may go."
"He has a heart."
"Pardon?"
"My laird. He has a heart,” the old lady repeated. “He was treated poorly as a lad and it makes him guard his heart from others.” She shuffled over to her and patted Gavenia's hand. “My dear child, it is there. You just need to be patient."
Gavenia did not know how to respond. She wanted to say, “You crazy old woman. Yer laird is going to sacrifice me for his mother, but, aye, he has a heart?"
Instead, she smiled and nodded. No point in arguing with his servant who obviously adored him.
After she left, Gavenia lifted the gown over her head, allowing the smooth material to skim along her skin. It was heavenly to have such a gown on her body. Especially one that was clean. The high-waist garment, with black embroidery along the trim, accented her curvaceous figure. She felt like a different woman.
Clutching the material, she raised the hem from the floor. The gown was a little too long and Gavenia wondered who owned if before her. It had to be someone taller than she.
She stood before the mirror and saw her mother's reflection. She never knew how much she looked like her mother. She wished she had a chance to say goodbye. To say she was sorry for not listening to her words of warning. Now it seemed it was too late. There was no escape for her. If this be her last night alive, then she was going to be honest with herself.
"How do you love and hate someone at the same time?"
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Chapter Ten
With his pack of wolves following, Tremayne paced the castle's long halls all day. He tried to work in his alchemist chamber, but to no avail. His restless spirit would not be at peace. He could not go through with the ritual. A part of him always knew it would not happen. The moment h
e looked through his scrying bowl and saw Lady Gavenia dismount at the pond, his heart had been lost.
For certain, he was angry at first. Never had someone taken hold of his guarded emotions so completely. He thought if he captured the tempest beauty and took her to his bed, then he would no longer be affected by her. Did he not grow weary of all women sooner or later? But making love to her had the opposite effect. Instead of tiring of her, he craved her presence like a knight seeks honor.
How could he sacrifice her now? To part from her would surely tear his soul in two. And what of the consequences? His mother would not be happy. His father's name would be lost, and he would have failed.
Entering the Great Hall, Tremayne sat on the noble chair next to Evan at the high table and surveyed his hall for energy. Four couples were busy upon the ground in front of him while others talked loudly at the tables, waiting on food and ale.
"Finally, yer mother will return to us and this place will be filled with her power and beauty,” Evan spoke, his words slurred from too much wine.
Tremayne cleared his throat. “I care not for her company, but for the name she would give me."
"Aye, once you have yer father's name, you can complete the ritual from the book of Black Magick.” Evan slurped another sip from his tankard. After belching, he added, “And that damn witch will get her punishment for killing my woman."
"Coira attacked first. Lady Gavenia had every right to defend herself.” Tremayne growled. “Besides, I am having second thoughts."
"Sounds to me like you have been bewitched by the whore.” Evan stared at him. “I suggest you squash such thoughts. We must begin the ritual, time is running out.” The steward's eyes were blood-shot, vengeance shining beneath.
"I did not ask for advice and I know what is at stake."
Evan slammed the tankard on the table and rose to his feet. “Then kill the witch and be done with it!"
The hall became quiet and everyone looked at Tremayne. Their eager eyes glistened with anticipation to his reaction.
Tremayne calmly rose to his full height and stared down at his steward. Evan's face changed from rage to fear and he stumbled over his chair.
"I ... I pray yer pardon, I spoke out of turn."
Tremayne flicked his hand and Evan flew against the wall. Arms pinned to his sides, the steward's clothes ripped from his body, exposing his flabby stomach and skinny arms. The Campbell clan erupted in laughter, pointing at Evan's discomfort.
A warm hand touched his arm and Tremayne jolted as if someone burned him. A soft voice spoke from behind. “Release him."
His gaze traveled the length of the delicate arm to see two pert breasts snug within the red satin gown. Her chest rose and fell evenly and her creamy neck held the face of an angel. More exquisite than ever, Lady Gavenia created a stir within his heart.
"Release him,” she repeated.
Without taking his gaze from her, he flicked his hand again and Evan fell to the ground, his body clothed once more.
The hall fell silent. Not only had someone touched the wrathful sorcerer and still remained breathing, but gave him a command and he complied. If only his people knew how much power Lady Gavenia had over him. If only she knew. He indeed, would be in sorrow.
"Please, sit,” he said, and pulled out a chair.
She regally sat and rested her hands in her lap.
The hall returned to its normal boisterous level. Some of the curious gaped at the sorcerer's honored prisoner.
Tremayne could not fault them. He, too, studied her carefully while her gaze roamed the Great Hall. Her stunning blue eyes widened at the rutting couples on the ground. He could not help but smile when her adorable face flushed.
"Why do you have people mating in yer hall?"
"I use their sexual energy."
"Have you no power without this energy?"
He knew she was asking for information. Perhaps, a chink in his armor? He found himself replying with honesty. “Aye. Without sexual energy, I grow weak."
She looked like she wanted to say something, but did not.
Tremayne placed his hand on hers. “Ask me."
"Did I give you sexual energy?"
He knew that would be her question. “You gave me more energy in one eve than a hundred women."
A slight smile tilted the corners of her lips as her gaze continued to travel around the Great Hall. One of his wolves nudged her leg and she absently patted behind his ear. Most of his people stayed away from the fierce animals, but she caressed the beast as if it were a kitten.
The serving maid placed two chalices of ale between them along with a handful of mint leaves. Tremayne threw a leaf in his mouth and a few in his ale.
"That explains why yer kisses taste..."
"...delicious?"
"I was going to say minty."
"I like herb in my ale,” he replied. Pleased that she would think well of his kisses. “Try some."
She picked up a few leaves and added them to her ale. Taking a sip, she moaned with appreciation.
Tremayne wanted to carry her upstairs to his chamber to see if he could elicit the same moan while making love. There would be time for that later, for now he must tell her about the ritual. He would not sacrifice her to save his mother.
"Milady, I wish to speak of..."
Her brows furrowed and her face paled.
He looked in the same direction as hers. She stared at the Campbell's crest on the wall. Her aura changed into a mirror of colors. Tremayne felt her emotions scattering. She mouthed something, but he could not make it out.
"What is amiss?” he asked and glanced at his crest, then back to her.
Upon the table, her hands trembled. “You are the chosen one!” she growled, her eyes flashing with anger and confusion.
"I am the what?"
The double doors slammed open and his sentry ran to the high table. “My laird, there is an army at the gates."
"Father!” Lady Gavenia breathed. A light of hope entered her eyes.
A loud bang echoed from across the village into the Great Hall.
"They have filled the moat and are using a trebuchet to penetrate our gate,” his sentry informed. “What be yer orders, my laird."
"Take milady up to the solar and guard her well.” He turned to Gavenia and touched her cheeks with both hands. “I ... I..."
He did not know how to tell her how he felt. “Wait for me."
He kissed her quickly and ran toward the doors, shouting orders to his soldiers.
At his side, the broadsword glided out of the leather scabbard with ease.
"Prepare for battle!"
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Chapter Eleven
If she was to escape, now was the time. She might not have her powers, but she could at least try to outmaneuver the vicious-looking guard behind her. Memory of the sorcerer's kiss lingered on her lips and she touched her mouth.
"Curse my traitorous lips,” she mumbled. She would not wait for him like one of his pet wolves. No matter how much she loved him, her clan waged a war outside.
They were almost to the solar when she pretended to stub her toe. Bending over she cried in pain. The guard leaned over her to see her injury and she swung her fist back into his groin. He tumbled over in agony and Gavenia sidestepped him.
The deserted hallway gave her hope. She ran freely toward the narrow stairway. Just as she was about to descend, a crossbow appeared dangerously close to her face. She halted and stepped back as Evan followed her up to the last stair.
"I hope I did not thwart yer plans of escape,” he said smoothly, his breath reeking of wine.
Gavenia continued backward. “If you let me go, you will live to see the morn."
Evan laughed. “It will be you who does not see the morn."
A low moan came from behind Gavenia and she quickly turned her head to see the guard slowly rise to his feet. He gave her a murderous glare and she sidled around him against the wall.
&
nbsp; "Go inside the chamber,” Evan ordered.
Unwilling to remain under the angry guard's scrutiny, she obeyed.
Rubbing the chill from her hands, she paced inside the luxurious solar. The laird's sitting room held a lavish tapestry covering one wall. The Campbell's crest mocked her ignorance to its symbol.
The red boar.
How could she miss an obvious sign from the vision?
At the doorway, Evan murmured something to the guard, gave her one last glare and then left her alone with the steward. Gavenia sighed; she didn't know who was worst to be with, Evan or the irate soldier.
A shattering crash vibrated outside the castle. Sounds of chaos filtered through the large arched windows that overlooked the bailey. Ignoring the steward, Gavenia leaned out the window. Beyond the village, the front gate was destroyed and hordes of Roberts’ soldiers piled through the timber wreckage. Their green and black plaids glowed from fire scones held in one hand, long swords glistened in the other. In red tunics, the Campbell soldiers rushed to fight the intruders, the clash of swords echoed in the night air.
Gavenia edged further out the window to see if she could find her father and brother, but it was too dark to see their faces. She searched for the sorcerer, hoping his tall stature would make him easy to find, but it did not. There were too many soldiers on the roads. Her stomach knotted with anxiety. She did not want anything to happen to him or her family.
Her hair was yanked from behind and she stumbled backward. Gavenia turned, rubbing the sting in her scalp. She gasped when she saw a red pentagram painted on the floor in the center of the chamber. From the metallic smell, it had to be drawn in blood.
Evan laughed, his eyes wide and fanatical. He rubbed his face with both hands and left a smudge of blood on both cheeks. His crooked finger pointed at her. “Now is the time you die witch!"
Gavenia tried to run around the blood-drawn symbol, but Evan blocked the doorway. In one swift movement, he back-handed her across the face and she fell into the pentagram.
Her cheek throbbed with pain and her eyes smarted with tears. She propped herself up on both hands. This is not happening! This is not happening!
Eerie feminine laughter vibrated around the chamber, causing Gavenia to shiver with dread.
The Celtic Witch and the Sorcerer [Celtic Series Book 2] Page 8