were broken and shallow. The intensity of her emotions startled him. It sounded like it was the first time she had ever grieved. He suspected the source of her tears wasn’t the pain itself but the memory of her imprisonment, which flooded her mind now that she was safe.
Aleco applied the medicine across her back, arms, legs, and all the areas he could access without removing her gown. He whispered words of encouragement as he applied pressure, gently rubbing her back as he did so.
“I don’t understand you,” she whispered through her tears. “Which is it? Are you an asshole or are you not?”
“Not an asshole.” Aleco laughed. “For now, at least. Ask me again tomorrow.”
She laughed at his words.
Aleco finished the application of medicine and tossed the linen back into the pot. He looked at the severity of her injuries and noted the deep purple color and large size of her bruises. Anger swelled inside of him. “What did they do to you?”
“Everything you can think of,” she whispered as she put the top half of her dress on.
“Why?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and wiped the last of her tears away. “They wanted to teach me a lesson in disobedience.” She stood up and began to put her supplies away.
Aleco got up and helped her. “What was your crime?”
“I failed to please my master,” she said.
“You’re a slave?” Aleco asked in surprise.
Accacia nodded.
“It is very unusual to put so much effort in imprisoning a slave, rather than killing them, and it is also rare to chase them across the continent.” Aleco voiced his thoughts.
“Well, I am very important to my owner,” she explained.
“Who is he?”
“Lord Drake is my master.”
Aleutian Keep, Letumian Province
9
“What do you mean she’s gone ,” he yelled. Lord Drake slammed his fists against his wooden desk. It trembled against the force.
“How could she possibly escape?”
He grasped his glass of Aleutian wine and threw it across the room, shattering the cup into tiny fragments against the fireplace mantle. The escaped wine droplets kissed the floor and caused the fire to hiss in response.
“She is one woman. How could she flee?” He clinched his hair and screamed. Lord Letumian walked across the room, gripped the commander around the throat, constricting his windpipe, and watched the soldier’s face turn purple as he tried to wrestle free.
He released his hold. “Return her to me,” he hissed. “Or next time I won’t let go.” Drake pushed him to the ground and kicked his ribs with his heavy boot. The prone soldier moaned in response. He approached the remaining soldiers standing before him, all of whom wore faces of fear.
He closed his crystal blue eyes, sighed heavily, and reopened them. His demeanor changed from savage rage to determined vengeance. He stood tall over his inferiors and squared his shoulders before he spoke, his controlled words coming out slowly.
“Will someone tell me what happened?”
The soldiers remained quiet and looked to one another. They prayed someone in their cavalry had the answer. Finally, a brave soldier spoke.
“We don’t know who stole her from the Prisoner’s Circle, m’ lord,” he said. “He took her from the keep and slipped her outside of the city. We searched for Miss Accacia everywhere but we couldn’t find her.”
“You don’t know who it was?” he asked.
“No, he always conceals his face from sight,” added another soldier. “We believe it is the same man who attempted to enter the keep weeks ago. He fits the description.”
Drake’s handsome face remained stoic as he listened to their words. He crossed his arms across his muscled chest. “Describe his blade,” he instructed.
The men looked at each other and hoped someone in their unit knew the description. “One man, spared by the perpetrator, stated his sword was solid black, like a piece of obsidian.”
Lord Drake nodded to himself and rubbed his lips together. “I
Aleco applied the medicine across her back, arms, legs, and all the areas he could access without removing her gown. He whispered words of encouragement as he applied pressure, gently rubbing her back as he did so.
“I don’t understand you,” she whispered through her tears. “Which is it? Are you an asshole or are you not?”
“Not an asshole.” Aleco laughed. “For now, at least. Ask me again tomorrow.”
She laughed at his words.
Aleco finished the application of medicine and tossed the linen back into the pot. He looked at the severity of her injuries and noted the deep purple color and large size of her bruises. Anger swelled inside of him. “What did they do to you?”
“Everything you can think of,” she whispered as she put the top half of her dress on.
“Why?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and wiped the last of her tears away. “They wanted to teach me a lesson in disobedience.” She stood up and began to put her supplies away.
Aleco got up and helped her. “What was your crime?”
“I failed to please my master,” she said.
“You’re a slave?” Aleco asked in surprise.
Accacia nodded.
“It is very unusual to put so much effort in imprisoning a slave, rather than killing them, and it is also rare to chase them across the continent.” Aleco voiced his thoughts.
“Well, I am very important to my owner,” she explained.
“Who is he?”
“Lord Drake is my master.”
Aleutian Keep, Letumian Province
9
“What do you mean she’s gone ,” he yelled. Lord Drake slammed his fists against his wooden desk. It trembled against the force.
“How could she possibly escape?”
He grasped his glass of Aleutian wine and threw it across the room, shattering the cup into tiny fragments against the fireplace mantle. The escaped wine droplets kissed the floor and caused the fire to hiss in response.
“She is one woman. How could she flee?” He clinched his hair and screamed. Lord Letumian walked across the room, gripped the commander around the throat, constricting his windpipe, and watched the soldier’s face turn purple as he tried to wrestle free.
He released his hold. “Return her to me,” he hissed. “Or next time I won’t let go.” Drake pushed him to the ground and kicked his ribs with his heavy boot. The prone soldier moaned in response. He approached the remaining soldiers standing before him, all of whom wore faces of fear.
He closed his crystal blue eyes, sighed heavily, and reopened them. His demeanor changed from savage rage to determined vengeance. He stood tall over his inferiors and squared his shoulders before he spoke, his controlled words coming out slowly.
“Will someone tell me what happened?”
The soldiers remained quiet and looked to one another. They prayed someone in their cavalry had the answer. Finally, a brave soldier spoke.
“We don’t know who stole her from the Prisoner’s Circle, m’ lord,” he said. “He took her from the keep and slipped her outside of the city. We searched for Miss Accacia everywhere but we couldn’t find her.”
“You don’t know who it was?” he asked.
“No, he always conceals his face from sight,” added another soldier. “We believe it is the same man who attempted to enter the keep weeks ago. He fits the description.”
Drake’s handsome face remained stoic as he listened to their words. He crossed his arms across his muscled chest. “Describe his blade,” he instructed.
The men looked at each other and hoped someone in their unit knew the description. “One man, spared by the perpetrator, stated his sword was solid black, like a piece of obsidian.”
Lord Drake nodded to himself and rubbed his lips together. “I
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