Haidar smiled. “I remember well how often I made you fornicate with the slave women and how often I took pleasure in watching you do so. Two, three, you even did four slaves for me in one night. I imagine you take your wife that often, which means she will be with child soon.” His smile faded. “I am going to take what you took from me—your pregnant wife. And if she has a daughter, I will see the child dead, but if she has a son, I will raise him as a fine slave. Then I will see that she gives me many sons, if not...I will see her die a slow death.”
“I am going to kill you,” Rhys said.
Haidar laughed. “That is not possible.”
“I believe that is what you told me when I asked what I must do to win my freedom.”
Haidar’s smile faded. “Your wife will be mine. Your child will be mine. And perhaps if your wife pleases me enough—you have taught her to take you in her mouth, have you not? If not I will give her daily lessons. As I was saying, if she satisfies me—in various way—I will spare you aslow, agonizing death and kill you quickly in front of her.”
“Your death will be fast, though more painful than you ever imagined,” Rhys said.
“You do not have the courage it would take to kill me.”
Rhys took a step toward him. “I have something more powerful than courage—I have hate!”
Haidar smiled. “That is what I am counting on.”
He signaled his men and they soon were gone, leaving Rhys’ warriors to find him standing alone when they burst out of the cottage one after the other until several circled him. More of his warriors suddenly spilled out of the woods, forming another protective barrier around him.
Rhys did not question how they got up through the trap door with the ladder gone. They had been trained to escape from various difficult places and situations. He was more concerned with his wife, having dropped her down the hole, the fall a far better fate than being taken by Haidar. And when his warriors had come across her, they would have seen that she remained there until he gave orders otherwise.
He was, however, eager to know that she had not been harmed in the fall. He turned to one of his warriors and asked, “Lady Heather waits unharmed beneath the cottage?”
“Lady Heather was not there,” the warrior said.
With a sharp order for his men to move, they parted quickly, clearing a path for him to hurry along and into the cottage. Rhys gave a quick look around and got no response when he called out her name. How could she have gotten up here if he had taken the ladder away? He shook his head. His wife was a resourceful woman, so if she did make it back to this room where would she be and why not answer him?
He turned his head and looked at the partially open door. If she had been hiding behind it this whole time, then she would have heard every word between him and Haidar. He stepped around the door and there in the shadows of the corner, crouched down, her arms hugging herself tightly, and her face paler than he had ever seen it...was his wife.
Rhys bent over and scooped her up into his arms and before pressing her tightly against him, her arms eagerly went around his neck, then she buried her face against his chest as if she was attempting to hide away.
One step out of the cottage and his men once again circled him, and it was not until they reached the keep’s stairs that his warriors dispersed, though they lingered close by.
Pitt burst out of the keep as Rhys took the stairs up two at a time.
“Seal that passageway so that it can never be entered at either end ever again,” Rhys ordered as Pitt yanked the door open for him. “Haidar made himself known. We will talk later.”
“Anything you need?” Pitt asked as they walked through the Great Hall.
“Time alone with my wife.”
“I will see that you are not disturbed,” Pitt said and went to do the Dragon’s bidding.
Once inside their bedchamber, Rhys sat on the bed, continuing to hold his wife. He said nothing; he simply held her. She had heard things she should never have heard and learned things about him she should have never learned. And the worse part was that she would never forget what she heard, it would forever haunt her.
“I am so sorry, Quinn” she whispered against his chest.
He drew back, forcing her to raise her head and look at him. “What did you say?”
“Quinn. I realized who you were a short time after arriving here,” she said. “The more I learn about your horrible ordeal, the more I realize why you have kept the truth from me. But it is not necessary any longer, I love you. I have always loved you and will always love you, no matter what.”
He set her on her feet and walked away from her. “I am not Quinn.”
“There is no reason to hide who you are from me.”
He turned to her, anger and sorrow filling his eyes. “Quinn died, I buried him myself.”
“No, you are my Quinn. It breaks my heart to know you were enslaved and suffered so horribly and I am so very grateful that you have returned to me.”
