Read Online Captive Heart by Phoenix Sullivan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Phoenix Sullivan
Ads: Link
night through, but my own apprehensions about Nessie and guilt over how I was forced to treat Beau. Losing him from the table last evening was bad enough, but for Marrok to have followed…
When we met in the dining hall to break fast, I noted they looked as haggard as I felt, as though they too had gotten little sleep. Avoiding my eye, they sat at the sideboard while I supped with our host.
Even when we took our farewells with Lord Corbin and struck off to regain the road with new provisions packed onto our spare pony, they shunned me. Not by harsh word or darting looks but simply by ignoring me. Which pained me as much as if they’d stoned me for my actions. Doubly painful because I regretted being forced into chastising a man I would far rather woo.
Even now I admired the very backs they turned to me as they rode, knee-to-knee, ahead of me. I wished I could hear their conversation but they spoke low, heads close, and I could only pray they weren’t speaking ill of me.
Late morning, Marrok drew rein, falling in step beside me. “Why?” he asked.
I blinked. There were many things he could have meant by the question, but I knew which one it was. I just didn’t have a ready answer. Not one at least to share.
“Why do you scorn him so? Was he not the first to take your quest as his? Did he not fight for you yesterday and prevail? How is it a lady’s tongue can be so rude?”
There was a blackness in Marrok’s eyes, and I knew something equally dark lurked within his soul. He intimidated me. They both did, truth be told, but I felt it now acutely, I on my ambling-gaited palfrey slung low to the ground, he towering above on a great war steed.
But wrapped in that intimidation was shelter and strength. A formidable ally if I could simply open myself and let him in.
Would Nimue really know if I confided all to my champion’s second? Could she and Ironside really make life more unbearable for Nessie? I struggled with the answers, realizing if there was any possibility, no matter how remote, of a “yes” to either question then, much as I craved to unburden my soul, leave off the abuse and make amends, for my sister’s sake, I couldn’t.
“Bah, if you won’t tell me why you belittle him at every turn, you will tell me now that you will leave off. He might tolerate it but I will not.”
Was there a reason he was being so protective of Beau? If he hadn’t been looming above me and I hadn’t been so distracted by the pounding of my heart that wasn’t fear or the blood blushing my cheeks at his proximity, I might have guessed his motive.
For now, my thoughts were turned on how to confound the anger simmering at Marrok’s core. “You might think you hide in shadow,” I whispered, “but I know your secret.” Which wasn’t precisely true, for my half-fae sight saw only that he bore the burden of a dark and heavy mystery, not what it was. But it did serve the purpose to distract him.
I was right in one regard. He left off thought of Beau as he grabbed my palfrey’s reins and dragged his stallion to a halt. Leaning in so close I could feel the heat of his breath on my cheek, and in a voice that was chillingly measured, he said, “Beau may be courteous enough to tolerate your ill graces, lady , but you’ll taunt me to your peril. Speak clearly of what you know, or hold your tongue lest you find it gone from your throat, and perhaps your head along with it.”
With no more than a breathspace between us I saw the blacks of his eyes flame red. For a moment, his whole face wavered before me. I blinked, but the trick wasn’t of my vision. And then I saw it, whether with fae Sight or mortal eyes I wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was the beast that stared back at me through fire-brimmed eyes brand .
“Shape-shifter,” I whispered.
I knew then he spoke truth about my peril. A knight of Arthur’s Table Round might speak sharp, but he would never do a lady harm. This knight’s beast, on the other
When we met in the dining hall to break fast, I noted they looked as haggard as I felt, as though they too had gotten little sleep. Avoiding my eye, they sat at the sideboard while I supped with our host.
Even when we took our farewells with Lord Corbin and struck off to regain the road with new provisions packed onto our spare pony, they shunned me. Not by harsh word or darting looks but simply by ignoring me. Which pained me as much as if they’d stoned me for my actions. Doubly painful because I regretted being forced into chastising a man I would far rather woo.
Even now I admired the very backs they turned to me as they rode, knee-to-knee, ahead of me. I wished I could hear their conversation but they spoke low, heads close, and I could only pray they weren’t speaking ill of me.
Late morning, Marrok drew rein, falling in step beside me. “Why?” he asked.
I blinked. There were many things he could have meant by the question, but I knew which one it was. I just didn’t have a ready answer. Not one at least to share.
“Why do you scorn him so? Was he not the first to take your quest as his? Did he not fight for you yesterday and prevail? How is it a lady’s tongue can be so rude?”
There was a blackness in Marrok’s eyes, and I knew something equally dark lurked within his soul. He intimidated me. They both did, truth be told, but I felt it now acutely, I on my ambling-gaited palfrey slung low to the ground, he towering above on a great war steed.
But wrapped in that intimidation was shelter and strength. A formidable ally if I could simply open myself and let him in.
Would Nimue really know if I confided all to my champion’s second? Could she and Ironside really make life more unbearable for Nessie? I struggled with the answers, realizing if there was any possibility, no matter how remote, of a “yes” to either question then, much as I craved to unburden my soul, leave off the abuse and make amends, for my sister’s sake, I couldn’t.
“Bah, if you won’t tell me why you belittle him at every turn, you will tell me now that you will leave off. He might tolerate it but I will not.”
Was there a reason he was being so protective of Beau? If he hadn’t been looming above me and I hadn’t been so distracted by the pounding of my heart that wasn’t fear or the blood blushing my cheeks at his proximity, I might have guessed his motive.
For now, my thoughts were turned on how to confound the anger simmering at Marrok’s core. “You might think you hide in shadow,” I whispered, “but I know your secret.” Which wasn’t precisely true, for my half-fae sight saw only that he bore the burden of a dark and heavy mystery, not what it was. But it did serve the purpose to distract him.
I was right in one regard. He left off thought of Beau as he grabbed my palfrey’s reins and dragged his stallion to a halt. Leaning in so close I could feel the heat of his breath on my cheek, and in a voice that was chillingly measured, he said, “Beau may be courteous enough to tolerate your ill graces, lady , but you’ll taunt me to your peril. Speak clearly of what you know, or hold your tongue lest you find it gone from your throat, and perhaps your head along with it.”
With no more than a breathspace between us I saw the blacks of his eyes flame red. For a moment, his whole face wavered before me. I blinked, but the trick wasn’t of my vision. And then I saw it, whether with fae Sight or mortal eyes I wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was the beast that stared back at me through fire-brimmed eyes brand .
“Shape-shifter,” I whispered.
I knew then he spoke truth about my peril. A knight of Arthur’s Table Round might speak sharp, but he would never do a lady harm. This knight’s beast, on the other
Similar Books
