Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

  Chapter Four

  The site of his castle never ceased to be both a comfort and prison to Adrian. His fortress of protection was the place he'd been raised by his mother and father as a young boy, and the last refuge for his wolves.

  They'd made it back, unmolested. A sense of relief washed over him seeing the turrets, along with the grey stone battlements, come into view. Sentinels stood watch in the light towers, on the four corners of the structure. The portcullis was up and the drawbridge lay flat across the moat, awaiting his return. The sound of Montego's hooves on the wooden planks was a welcome sound.

  The scent of the blacksmith's smoke tickled his nose. The sounds of Angus' hammering on the forge pounded in his head. Two of his men pulled a hide onto a tanning rack, preparing it. A female sat watching her young ones play as she worked on her needlepoint.

  Several men moved out of his path, and then stopped, staring at the woman he carried across the courtyard. Adrian clenched his jaw to keep himself from spewing angry words at them. It wasn't their fault that they watched her with hopeful eyes; they all craved the affection of a mate. Word would spread quickly that another female had been found.

  A female suckling her infant looked up from where she sat.

  "Female." Adrian slowed his horse.

  "Darina, Highness." The woman stood and bowed.

  "Darina. Please fetch Hanna and tell her to bring her herbs to my quarters."

  The woman's gaze drifted to the female in his arms. "Of course, your Highness." She swaddled her baby and moved swiftly for the castle.

  He pulled his horse up to the stable and waited for Blain to dismount. Lash exited the stables and took hold of the reins for both steeds. His gaze never left the sleeping girl.

  "Can I?" Blain held his arms out to take her.

  Adrian tensed, but let her slide from his grasp. He hated that he was so protective of a female he didn't even know. Jumping from his horse, he took the girl's limp body in his arms and stalked toward the castle. His heavy boots clunked on the stone floor as he made his way through the entrance hall. Dax waited for him, speaking to Blain. Both men turned and looked at Adrian approaching.

  "Dax," said Adrian. "Please take this female to my room." Adrian handed the female over to the large shifter.

  Dax took her gently into his arms and headed for the stairs. Adrian's gaze followed them.

  "I'm going to grab Jale and Juda and go back out," said Blain.

  Adrian turned. "We didn't spot any vampires tonight. There's no need to go back out."

  Blain nodded. "True, but we've seen that tall blond one coming and going more often, and after the last encounter, I owe him." Blain's eyes travelled up the stairs. "Besides, I could use some air."

  Adrian wished he could go out for some air. But he needed to make sure the female was safe, and that Hannah visited her. "Send Jale back if you find the vampire. I want to question him before we kill him."

  Blain smiled. "I'll do my best to keep him alive. Mostly."

  The two large, dark-haired males stalked into the entrance hall. Adrian tensed at the sight of them. Jale and Juda nodded to Adrian.

  "Heard there's a new female," said Jale.

  "Yes," Adrian crossed his arms over his chest. There was no way in hell he was going to let either of them anywhere near her.

  Adrian took the stairs to his room, two at a time. Dax opened the door, letting him in.

  "Has she stirred?"

  Dax shook his heavy blond head.

  Adrian moved to his large four-poster bed, raised on a pedestal in the middle of his room, and stared at the girl. Her hair fanned out around her in a deep red halo. Her skin had lost its peachy color and had taken on a more waxen sheen. Reaching down, he wrapped her red cloak over her to keep her warm. She looked small and helpless in his bed. Her lean frame seemed to take up no space at all. Why had he told Dax to bring her here? She should have been put down with the other women.

  "Is she one of the Sisterhood?" Dax asked.

  "Most likely."

  Dax moved to the side of the bed and laid his large palm on her forehead. "Vampires?"

  "Dominic." Adrian gritted his teeth. His Alpha wolf was getting anxious about Dax touching her. The werebear was not technically one of his pack. Dax had been adopted in when he'd shown up, half-dead and with no memory, almost three years prior.

  "That explains a lot." Dax shook his head. "Paulo will heal."

  Adrian nodded, but wasn't listening. He watched the simple rise and fall of her chest. Her breathing's strong, which is a good sign. "Where the hell is Hanna?" he fumed.

  "I'm here, your highness." Hanna stepped into the room.

  "Good." Adrian motioned her to the bed.

  "I'll find you something to eat." Dax exited.

  Hanna looked down at the girl. "Oh my, it's Red!" She hastily threw her bag to the floor and removed Redlynn's cloak. "What happened to her?"

  Hanna's eyes turned to Adrian, but he dare not tell her the truth. "You know her then?"

  "Her full name is Redlynn. Her ancestors took over as Heads of the Order after your mother passed. She was young when I left, maybe only thirteen."

  "And her parents?"

  "She had a hard life before her father disappeared." Hanna pulled items out of her bag, setting them on the nightstand. "Her mother tried to tell the truth about the Sisters being wolf mates. I'm not sure how she found out."

  "What happened to her?"

  "She was denounced. The council assumed her husband's disappearance caused a mental break. She was never the same after that."

  Hanna removed the strip of cloak tying Redlynn's arm to her side, and pulled down her blouse.

  "M'lord!" Hanna looked over her shoulder at him. "She has the mark."

  "I know," Adrian replied.

  "But that means—" A smile spread across Hanna's face as she clasped her hands together and raised her gaze to the heavens. "The gods be praised. The time has come when we'll all be reunited."

  The gods have nothing to do with it. Adrian had long given up on the idea of the gods stepping in to help any of them.

  Hanna pulled Redlynn's blouse open further, inspecting the wound. "I'm sorry to ask you M'lord, but I need water and a towel, so I may remove some of the blood."

  "I'll do it." Adrian moved swiftly into the adjoining bathing room and took a deep breath. His mind raced once again with thoughts of what he wished he could do to Dominic for hurting Red. He stood in the doorway, unable to remember why he was in there. A beautiful, half-naked woman lay in his bed. He'd never had a woman in his bed before. Think! Why did you come in here? Water! Towel!

  He grabbed the items Hanna had asked for and took them out to her, averting his eyes. Several minutes passed, and there was a moan from the bed. He turned and caught a glimpse of a perfectly rounded breast. He turned away again. "Is she alright?"

  "The wound is deep and fernblend has dried into it. I'll apply a clean dressing and some salve to help stave off infection. Her shoulder appears to be at an odd angle, but until I can inspect her further I won't know the extent of her injuries. She needs rest. I can have her moved—"

  "She'll stay here, I have a dozen rooms in this wing to choose from." He should just tell Hanna to take Red down to the other wing. He had no interest in becoming attached to her. Especially since he had no intention on being the one she chose.

  Hanna's face softened and she gave him a knowing look. "That'd be best, M'lord. I'll return in the morning."

  Adrian glanced at the painting above the fireplace: his mother, Irina, with her long raven hair, and his father, Sven, standing proudly beside her. For a fleeting moment, he ached for his mother's comfort and his father's wise counsel. Long had it been since he'd heard his parents' voices.

  It wouldn't matter, Adrian thought, looking into his mother's face. She was the one who did this in the first place. He ran his hands over his face and hair, trying to forget the ghosts of his past.

  He turned to the bed. Han
na had secured Redlynn's arm. She picked up the bowl of blood-tinged water and towels and her bag. Tenderness crossed her soft face. "I'll bring her some clothing when I return. Tomorrow she needs to bathe."

  "She has a bag. I don't know what is in it, though. Blain has it."

  "I'll get that as well, then."

  "Thank you, Hanna. Tell your mate, Fendrick, I appreciate his letting me borrow you."

  Hanna laughed to herself and nodded. "I'll be sure to let him know. Good night, your highness."

  "Adrian."

  Hanna hesitated, and then nodded. "Prince Adrian."

  ***

  Redlynn whipped her head from side to side. Where am I? Pain exploded in her neck; she tried to reach up with her left arm, but it was pinned to her stomach. It'd been strapped in place by a strip of red cloth. Why am I half-naked? Her tunic and cloak were gone. So was her locket. Redlynn looked around frantically for her locket. Pain hit her in waves, confusing her and forcing her to breathe deeply. She refused to cry.

  Trying to process her surroundings, the fight with the Were flooded back to her. Shockingly, it seemed she wasn't dead, she was alive, and in someone's very richly furnished bedroom. She wiped at her face with her right hand, her vision muddled.

  Stone walls surrounded the large, mahogany, four-poster bed she lay upon. Dark, heavy curtains were partially drawn at the end of the bed. On either side, two ancient and beautiful nightstands held ornately carved glass oil lamps. A fire crackled, its golden glow peeking in the gaps of the curtains.

  Redlynn maneuvered herself to the side of the bed and set her feet on the floor. It was colder than her wooden planks at home. Slowly she scooted off the downy mattress, and tried to steady herself on one of the posts. She weakened, the blood draining from her head, her legs wobbling beneath her.

  On the floor lay her cloak. She stooped to pick it up, but lost her balance. At the last minute, she braced herself on the stone wall and avoided its colliding with her face. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself once more and slowly reached down for the cloak, pressing herself into the stone for support. It took her several minutes to get the clasps buckled so that she was covered almost to her waist.

  By the time she finished, her body shook like she'd tried to pull a wagon by herself. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face. Sucking in a deep breath, she tried to clear her mind and listen for sounds. A faint rhythmical buzzing came from somewhere near the fire. Pushing past the end of the bed, she saw a large man asleep at a table.

  His head was tilted to the side and long, wavy black hair fell over his eyes and chiseled features. His large and strong form was set with broad shoulders and a powerfully built frame. He'd fallen asleep in his linen shirt and breeches, with his boots still on. A flutter settled in her stomach, the same surge of adrenaline she got before a fight. He was snoring. What was he doing there?

  Confused, Redlynn wasn't sure if it was her fighting instincts kicking in, or something else all together. Part of her wanted to know what his lips would feel like on hers. Another part wanted to run.

  What the hell is wrong with you? You'd think you'd never seen a man before. She swallowed hard. She hadn't. Not a man like him.

  She searched for an exit and found it to the far left of the room. The sleeping man didn't look like he was guarding her, but why would he be in the same room with her, if he weren't? She scanned the room for her things. Her pack, bow and quiver were nowhere to be found. If she were going to break out, she needed a weapon.

  On the table lay a tray with an empty plate, a knife, fork and spoon. Redlynn inched toward the knife. The closer she got to him, the more drawn she was to him. She stopped, a foot from the table.

  Keep it together! He's only a man, and obviously your guard. For all you know, he could be a murderer!

  She slid her good hand across the polished wooden surface. As she reached for the knife, her collarbone burned with pain. She stumbled, tripping over her cloak and crashing into the plate.

  The man was up in an instant. Rising, his chair clattered to the ground. Redlynn grabbed hold of the knife and held it out in front of herself, backing away. It took him a moment to comprehend what was going on. He stared at her, not moving. She shook like a rabbit. He had golden eyes.

  "Your... your eyes," she whispered.

  "What's wrong with them?"

  "They... They're gold."

  "They're brown."

  "No… No, they aren't." She shook her head. "They're golden… just like—"

  "Like yours," he murmured.

  Redlynn nodded, her head fuzzy, and her knees wobbly. She blinked several times. His eyes were brown. They had golden flecks in them, but they were definitely brown.

  "You've had a bad wound. You should rest."

  "I have to leave. I have something I need to do."

  "Do you remember what happened?"

  "Where am I?"

  "In Wolvenglen."

  "Who in their right mind would live in Wolvenglen? Don't you know there are Weres out here?"

  "Please, put down the knife." He motioned to the knife Redlynn had forgotten she was pointing at him.

  She glanced at it and weighed it in her hand. It was solid. Her hunting knife was larger, but she could make do with it if need be.

  "Where are my things? I need to go."

  "Hanna, our healer, will bring them in the morning when she comes to check on you, and bring you a change of clothes."

  Still holding the knife, she reached up and touched her collarbone, underneath her cloak. A bandage covered the wound. It was tender. Peeling it away, she assessed what she could see of the damage.

  "I wouldn't do that," he warned.

  Redlynn gave him a hard stare and went back to inspecting the wound. She stuck her fingers in the salve and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger, smelling it.

  "Comfrey and calendula." Pulling at the green leaves, she winced as they ripped a piece of skin and seeped. Smelling the leaves, she put them in her mouth and chewed them before spitting them out. "Fernblend. Did she do that?"

  "No, I did."

  "Don't you know you have to keep it wet?"

  "I thought saving your life was more important," he bit back. "You were in bad shape when I found you."

  "Well when I scrub it off, I am going to wish I were dead. Where did you find me, anyway?"

  "Listen." He took a deep breath. His eyes softened and his voice gentled. "I was trying to help you. It was one of the few things I remember my mother teaching me about herbs."

  "Your mother's a healer?"

  "Was. Now, will you please lie down before you pass out? You lost a lot of blood."

  "I've had worse," Redlynn lied. "I need to get my things and be on my way."

  "You need to rest. You can barely hold that knife, let alone walk through the forest."

  "I'll be fine."

  He stepped out of her way. "Very well. You are free to leave." He motioned to the door.

  Was this a joke? Was he really going to let her go? Gripping the knife, she took several steady steps toward the exit before her knees buckled. He caught her around the waist, sending a shockwave of tingles through her body.

  His musky scent mixed in her nostrils and her head lightened again. His body wasn't just warm, it was hot; he was a fire in his own right.

  "Let go," she said softly.

  "I was merely keeping you from further injuring yourself."

  His light blue tunic opened in a "v" and his chiseled, hairless chest peaked out beneath. Her eyes locked with his. He hadn't shaved in a day or two; the whiskers looked ruggedly good on him. His face wore an expression she'd never seen aimed at her before. Desire. The butterflies in her stomach danced and spun. His face was so close as he studied her features.

  "Please, let go," she choked, her voice raw with tension.

  He continued to stare at her for a moment more, and then swooped her into his arms as if she were a child. She stiffened at the press of his body
against hers.

  Her heart thundered. A man had never held her before. "Let go of me." She pushed at his chest and tried to twist from his grip. The movement made her dizzy again.

  "Stop, before I drop you," he said. He pushed the curtains aside, and laid her where she'd started.

  Redlynn's mind whirled as she lay on the bed. The scent of his skin lingered near her. She swallowed hard. He'd touched her. No man had ever wanted to touch her before.

  Prying the knife from her hand, he set it on the nightstand and stepped away. "You have no need of a weapon here. No one will hurt you. I promise."

  He stood feet away, but oddly it felt too far. Her reaction to him made no sense, but she wanted him holding her, in the large bed. She said nothing. Stepping forward again, he pulled the sheet and coverlet over her. She shrunk away from his touch.

  "I won't hurt you."

  "How do I know that? Here I am in a strange house, in someone else's bed, no less."

  "Because you have my word."

  "And what is that to me? I don't know you." She should be grateful for being saved from the wolves, but being in a place where she didn't know anyone set her on edge. She'd never seen such finery.

  A slight smile played on his lips. "You must be thirsty. I'll get you a drink."

  If he left, she might be able to escape.

  "But only if you promise not to try and leave again."

  Her gaze met his and her eyes narrowed. How had he known? She wanted to get out and get back to her task at hand. The Weres needed to pay for the pain they'd caused. She shifted her position and her arm shot a pain up the side of her neck. "I'll wait till after your healer arrives."

  His eyes searched hers. He nodded, and then turned to leave and paused, pulling something from his pocket. "I found this, is it yours?" He held up the locket.

  Relief flooded her. He'd found it! She reached out with her good arm. "Thank you. It was my mother's."

  He stepped in close before she could protest and refastened the clasp behind her neck. "I had a new clasp put on it for you."