Wildewood Revenge

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Authors: B.A. Morton
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charge and she would jolly well wake up. Maybe that was the answer, all she had to do was say no; click her heels together and it would be over and she would be back at Kirk Knowe .
    “About that...”
    “About what?” Miles picked up and shook his cloak.
    “Well, about this whole business. You know; the ransom the bishop and Wildewood .”
    “Yes.”
    “Well, it’s not really going to happen, is it? You’re not even real, none of this is. It’s all in my head. I know it is.” She touched the fingers of one hand lightly to her forehead. “Or maybe you’ve drugged me. Who knows? I certainly don’t. It’s okay though, I’m used to everyone thinking I’m crazy. I suppose I’ve just gone a little too far this time.”
    He paused to assess her. “Pardon?” he said, this time heavily accented.
    She thought distractedly how his accent became more pronounced when he was ill at ease, and if his expression was anything to go by, he was certainly that. She tried a different tack.
    “Look, one of us is obviously crazy. You’re either a weirdo or you’re just in my head. Which would you rather be?”
    Edmund took a step back, crossing himself fearfully while Miles stayed silent. Grace continued unabated.
    “I’ve already told you that I don’t want to go with you. I’ve played along so far, but my leg is much better, you said so yourself, and I have no intention of going any further with you. I appreciate what you have done for me, if you’re real that is. But I don’t know you. You could be anyone, and you’re taking me further and further away from the people I do know. I want to go home. Either, you take me back or lend me Edmund’s pony, and I’ll go myself.” She paused for breath. He was still studying her. Had he actually understood what she’d said?
    “I don’t believe a word of all that rot about bogs that can swallow a horse. Bloody hell you’ll be telling me there’s a dragon next! You can’t keep me, and you can’t make me do anything against my will.” She set her hands on her hips ignored the frantic churning deep inside and looked him squarely in the eye.
    Straightening, Miles let the cloak fall to the ground in a heap and stared at her. He was no longer smiling. Edmund looked anxiously from one to the other. Miles took a step towards Grace and she held him at bay with her open hand, which was deftly grabbed and held tight by the wrist. Suddenly, she was less sure of herself and even surer, this was not a dream.
    “You think I am not real, Mademoiselle?” He squeezed her wrist. “Does this not feel real? Or what about this?” he added as he leaned into her. “Make no mistake, little one,” he breathed slowly. “I am very real and whether you wish it or not, you will accompany me to Wildewood . Perhaps you are a little mad, touched by demons. Quite frankly I do not care, I carry demons aplenty. You will do as I say or suffer the consequences. You want me to treat you as my prisoner? Tie you up? I can do that if I really need to. Do I need to?” He raised a brow questioningly “You are coming with me, and you will be freed unharmed when I receive the ransom, and not before.”
    She stared at him; finally aware she was playing a very dangerous game and had no idea of the rules. She looked at his hand where he gripped her, his palm was warm against her skin and she felt the pulse in her wrist jump against him. She tugged her hand, her fear over ridden by his arrogance. Who did he think he was?
    “Let me go,” she hissed.
    He yanked her closer instead and for a long moment they exchanged feral glares. She dropped her eyes to the jagged scar which followed the line of his jaw, cutting a silver swathe through his stubble. He glared back at her and they both took a deep breath. He dropped her hand and she resisted the urge to rub her wrist where he had held it too tightly.
    “You don’t scare me.” She threw at him as she turned and limped out of the cave.
    Miles watched her go.

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