Read Online Donovan's Woman by Amanda Ashley - Free Book Online Page A

“No one.”
    “You must have a name.”
    “Cay,” she said. “I’m Cay.”
    Serepta lifted one brow, then summoned one of the guards. “Who is she? Why have you brought her here?”
    “We don’t know who she is, but they were together so…” He shrugged. “We brought her along.”
    Serepta nodded. “You did well. Take her to the dungeon and take him to my room.” She looked down at Gryff, a cruel smile playing over her lips as she bent down to rake her nails over his cheek. “Strip him of his clothes and chain him to the wall.” She glanced at the woman thoughtfully. “I’ve changed my mind. Take him to the dungeon, as well.” Curling her fingers around a lock of his hair, she jerked his head back, forcing him to look up at her. “See you soon, wolf man.”
    Fear coiled deep in Gryff’s belly as he watched her exit the transport. His worst nightmare was about to come true.
    * * *
    Marri curled up in the cleanest corner of her cell, her arms wrapped around her middle. She couldn’t stop trembling. She was afraid, so afraid. Afraid for herself, but mostly afraid for Gryff. She could see him in the cell across the way. Serepta’s guards had stripped him down to his loincloth. They had shackled his hands high over his head so that his feet barely touched the cold stone floor. The loose end of the chain attached to his collar was secured to an iron ring in the wall. The shackles around his ankles were chained to similar rings in the floor. It made her ache just to look at him — his body stretched painfully taut, every muscle sharply defined. Though sweat dripped down his back, he shivered convulsively. It might have been from the cold; she thought it more likely a bad case of nerves. He had to be afraid of what was coming. Had she been in his place, she would have been terrified.
    The dungeon was silent save for the ticking of a clock, a distant drip of water, and the ragged rasp of Gryff’s breathing.
    She had never been inside a dungeon before. She knew there was one at home but her father had forbidden her to go there. She wondered if it was as cold and dreary as this one. The walls and floor were gray stone. There was no furniture in the cells for a straw tick on the floor and a smelly chamber pot in the corner. A single candle burned in a wrought iron sconce on the wall near the entrance. Its faint light did little to dispel the gloom.
    A rustling in the tick drew Marri’s attention. Grimacing, she pressed against the wall. She didn’t know what lurked in the straw. She fervently hoped it wasn’t a rat.
    She had to get out of here, but how? For a moment, she considered telling Serepta the truth but that seemed a foolhardy thing to do. She didn’t know what her fate would be at Serepta’s hands, but she knew what fate awaited her at home. If she was going to die, she was glad it would be at the hands of a stranger. It would be less painful, she thought, than being betrayed and murdered by her own blood kin.
    “Gryff?” Just saying his name made her feel better, though she had no idea why that should be. He couldn’t help her now. No one could.
    He grunted softly.
    “I’m afraid.” It was a silly thing to say. He knew she was afraid. They both were, but somehow it made her feel better. There was no shame in admitting it, after all. She hadn’t been raised to be a warrior woman, but to be a wife and a mother. All her life, the ladies of the keep had looked after her. They had pampered her and spoiled her, taught her how to do needlepoint and dress her hair, how to greet guests and set a proper table. No one had thought to teach her how to defend herself from a witch.
    She looked at Gryff again, wishing he could turn around so she could see his face. She longed to go to him, to put her arms around him and ease his pain, to dry the sweat that continued to drip down his neck, shoulders, and back.
    She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking, feeling, as he waited for Serepta. Dread coiled deep