Page 1 of The Highlander’s Untamed Lady

CHAPTER ONE

Cornwall, London

March 1698

Escaping the tower had been too easy. Diana's clothes chafed at her skin, as if it fit too tightly.

Something was not right.

She stepped cautiously to the entrance of the tower and glanced outside. A rustling came from the bushes nearby and two sets of eyes gleamed in the shadows – one pale gray, the other a golden yellow – the beastly stares of wolves. Diana put a hand out to stay them both.

She peered from the doorway, looking first right then left. The guards had been on a steady rotation ever since she'd been locked in the dank tower. Every six hours.

No one had been near her room in at least an hour. Enough time for her to determine their absence and pick the ancient lock with a mangled pin.

Where had the guards gone?

They knew she would escape if given the opportunity and had clearly been given strict instructions by her father.

A high-pitched whine came from the forest. Hera. Diana could make out the large gray head moving side to side in an anxious bob from where the wolf lay low in the bushes. Zeus watched her, his large black body blending into the forest's darkness so only the glint of his golden eyes remained, steady and determined.

She pushed her hand out again with more finality to stay them both. An ambush on her would result in continued imprisonment. But if Hera and Zeus became involved as they had last time, Diana knew her father would make good on his promise to see them both slain.

The late spring wind blew like winter, but it did not pierce the heavy mantle and cloak she wore. She pulled her hood lower over her face. A clearing surrounded the tower, a good ten strides wide, which would take precious time - enough to leave her vulnerable. Enough for an arrow to be drawn and loosed, or for a pistol to be fired.

Her pulse thrummed faster and she began to sweat beneath the weight of furs draping her shoulders.

Was this how her father had decided to be rid of her?

After years of failing to marry her off, was he going to finally have her killed?

Diana licked her lips, not that it did much good to wet her parched mouth. She hadn't had water in two days, food in one. Hunger she could deal with, certainly she had before when her father tried to starve her into submission. But water…

The sky was dark with the promise of rain. God, she hoped it would. She would lift her face and let the wet droplets bathe her mouth.

She tried to swallow, and her throat clicked in dry protest.

She shifted anxiously on the worn stone beneath her feet. Grit screeched and popped underfoot, echoing on the sad emptiness behind her. She shuddered. Better to be dead than spend another day locked in her prison.

Diana gripped the bolt of wood she'd fashioned into a pick. It'd do nothing for slashing, but it could kill a man if she stabbed it at just the right angle, and it was the best she had.

Now.

She bolted from the safety of the alcove, bounding forward in great strides like a deer chased by a hunter. Hera darted from her place in the trees, her large gray coat billowing in the brutal wind.

A low growl started in Hera's throat before she reached Diana, a savage sound Diana seldom heard from the tamer of her two wolves. Hera stopped and glared right. Her nose peeled back from her teeth and she bent her front legs in preparation to lunge. To attack. To kill.

Diana didn't stop running until she was in front of her wolf. Something was out in the woods. She held her breath and strained to listen. Nothing was discernible over the pounding of her frantic heart.

But she knew Hera. Something was there.

Diana tried as best she could to block Hera's large body with her own, a feat made possible only due to the large mantle she wore.

Her efforts were in vain. Hera edged around to Diana's side. The wolf's growls grew louder, snarling, threatening, reverberating deep in a primitive place inside Diana that told her she should be afraid even as her heart reminded her there was no cause for fear.

Diana stared into the nothingness of forest where Hera watched with such intensity. There was something out there.

Or someone.