Read Online Mary Reed McCall by Secret Vows - Free Book Online Page A

an hour the mélée would commence; he could see preparations taking place at the edge of the grounds, saw patches of brightly colored silks shining in the sun, pitched by traveling knights who’d come to try their luck at winning the tournament ransoms this day. His reputation as the best of King Henry’s champions always seemed to attract droves of young men eager to try their mettle against him.
    Gray frowned, wondering how many of those same men would be carried from the field of battle on pallets. Turning on his heel, he strode back to the table and stripped off his shirt. He hefted one of the swords, swinging it in wide arcs, then lunging and jabbing in a few practice passes. But as he warmedto the task, his movements became more intense; soon he was repeating the series of motions over and over, driving himself with relentless focus until he ran with sweat. Yet it wasn’t enough. The familiar beast grew inside him, thirsting for the feel of his blade hacking through flesh, for the slippery heat of blood spilling over his hand.
    Gray pushed himself harder, moving faster, as he swung his sword with greater precision and violence against his invisible foe, the adversary who’d made every battle he’d fought in the last seventeen years a struggle for life or death. He struck at the guilt and anger that had been eating him from the inside out since that horrible day…since the moment he’d lost Gillian forever.
    Gillian . His mind breathed her name as he swung and sliced with his blade. The images flooded back, assaulting him, pummeling him with fury. He’d choked on her name then, unable to speak it aloud after he’d found her, his twin, his second self, knowing that it was his fault. His unimaginable error.
    Gray. Oh, Gray, it hurts…make it stop hurting . Her whispering voice haunted him, sharpening his rage and twisting his gut until he felt sure that he too must bleed from the pain. But he’d never escape the guilt, never be absolved of the sin or the memory. He’d left Gillian alone, and the son of a bitch had gotten her. Thornby had broken her with his fists, leaving nothing but a bloodied, bruised shell. And as he’d held his beautiful sister—his equal—in his arms that day,she’d opened her eyes one last time, looked into the depths of his soul…and stopped breathing.
    The red haze of agony and rage swelled, bubbling and building to a wordless roar that filled Gray’s chest and burst free in a sound to rival the howling of the damned.
    With one, swift movement, he swung his sword into the air and slammed it point first into the table. Then he sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands. His breath rasped painfully, straining his sides. His body felt numb, and he fought against the flood of emotions, even as he ached for the cleansing relief of tears that wouldn’t come.
    After a moment he became aware of sight and sound and touch again; he heard the heavy hilt of his sword rocking back and forth atop the blade he’d embedded in the table. His hands fell limp to his sides as he pushed back the darkness and the fury. But it was there anyway, always lurking close to the surface and waiting to spread bloody destruction.
    Pushing himself to his feet, he moved slowly to the door. His time was up. The mélée was about to begin, and yet he dreaded its start almost as much as he despised waking each day. It wasn’t the danger he feared. Clashing swords, grinding bones, pain, injury, even death—none of it held any power over him. Nay, ’twas just the opposite. He was bound by an understanding of the dark forces that drove him; somehow he needed to find control, to rein in the raging beast that clawed for release whenever he was on the field of battle…
    Because he knew that if he didn’t, Eduard was going to need the protection of God Himself to walk away from the tournament this day with his life.
     
    Catherine felt sick as she climbed the raised pavilion that had been set up at a safe