Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
She…
I wake abruptly but the feeling of dread doesn’t go away—it only gets stronger. Fuck—does this have to do with the drop of my blood I gave her to revive her before our flight? I drank her blood, and she had some of mine too. Did we form some kind of bond?
I fucking hope not but I can’t ignore the tightness in my gut. I look around the room and sure enough—she’s gone. That’s when I hear raised voices from the other side of the bedroom door.
Fuck.
A possessive rage rises inside me. I might hate her, but no one has the right to hurt her—she’s mine!
I still have on the too-tight breeches the innkeeper gave me. There’s no time to put on the shirt.
I push my way out into the inn’s common room to see what kind of trouble my Princess has gotten herself into.
23
IRENA
“Come on with me and I’ll teach you a lesson no prince ever will,” the smelly, hairy man says, still dragging me away.
“Let go of me! Unhand me!” I’m shouting at the top of my lungs, but no one seems to care. They’re all just staring at me, as though it’s perfectly normal for a man to drag a woman away into a dark corner for unnamed nefarious purposes.
It’s not “unnamed nefarious purposes!” It’s rape! shouts a panicked voice in my head. If you don’t get away from him, he’s going to rape you, Irena! Go—get away!
I pull with all my might, but the man’s grip on my wrist is too strong to break. His companion—the man with the red beard—is watching with mild interest as he sips his ale, as though we are putting on a play solely for his benefit. Everyone else seems to be ignoring us.
“I heard what you said about the Lady of the Forest!” I shout at red-beard. “It’s her I’m going to visit—the Sorceress! She’ll make you sorry if you don’t tell your friend to let me go!”
This gets a reaction from the whole room that my ongoing attack and abduction failed to provoke. I hear gasps and mutters and someone says,
“Going to visit the Sorceress? She must be a witch!”
“That’s right—I’m a witch!” I say desperately. I glare at my attacker. “And if you don’t let me go this minute, I’ll make you sorry!”
“First you’re a princess and now you’re a witch,” he scoffs, but he looks uneasy. However, he doesn’t release his grip on my wrist. If anything, it tightens as he continues dragging me into the shadows.
My panic rises higher and higher until it threatens to choke me like bile. What’s wrong with the people here? Why won’t they help me? Do they really not mind that a woman is being dragged away to be raped?
“Come on now, girly—don’t be troublesome. None of the barmaids mind,” the man says, his fingers tightening until I feel the small bones of my wrist grinding together.
So, this is something he regularly does to the women working here—no wonder the patrons of the inn are looking the other direction! Rape is normalized here at The Slaughtered Lamb.
I feel sick but I’m more determined than ever to get free of him.
“Let go of me!” I shout in his face, trying one more time. “Let go or you’ll be sorry!”
“I’d listen to her,” a low, growling voice says, and a huge hand suddenly clamps itself onto the man’s shoulder.
I follow the hand and wrist up the muscular arm and see—to my relief—Valen standing there. His long black hair is wild around his shoulders and he’s bare-chested. The firelight gilds his bronze skin, making him look like some kind of demi-god. The look on his face is terrible to behold—a kind of possessive rage twists his features, and his eyes are glowing like two live coals.
“Get your fucking hands off my woman,” Valen growls and I see his grip tighten until his knuckles turn white.
The man who grabbed me gasps and abruptly drops my wrist. Valen lets him go and he backs away, glaring at us mistrustfully as he rubs his bruised shoulder.
“Hey, Maud!” he shouts, his beady little eyes never leaving Valen and me. “What the hell is going on around here?”
“What’s that?” I hear a familiar voice shout from the back of the inn.
A moment later, our innkeeper, Maud, comes bustling up, wiping her hands on a grimy dishcloth.
“What’s all this then?” she demands, her sharp eyes taking in me and Valen and the man with the dirty, hairy face who’s looking at us accusingly. “What’s wrong, Harry?” she demands, looking at him. “What happened?”
“What happened? This bastard here attacked me and this other one claims she’s a witch!” he snarls, pointing at first Valen and then me. “What kind of people are you letting into my inn, woman?”
“He’s lying!” I say quickly. “None of what he said is true!”