Page 49 of Wounded Hearts

Chapter 23

Mara’s eyesshot open at the sharp pinch in her arm but all she saw was a silky black fabric that was soft as it brushed against her cheek. Moving her head left to right she realised she was seated on what she thought was a kitchen style chair, her legs and arms bound with thick rope of some kind. The air in the room was warm, almost too warm, and there was little sound except for the distant noise of cars on a fast-moving road.

She couldn’t remember what had happened, but she knew it was bad. Fear clawed its way into her throat, cutting off her oxygen as she began to hyperventilate. If Brayden had her, he’d surely kill her for what she’d done. He’d see it as the ultimate betrayal that she’d run from him.

“Breathe, slowly. In aaannndddd out, in and out.”

The woman’s voice repeated the mantra slowly and despite her fear, Mara began to do just that. Matching her breaths to the sound of the voice, one that was familiar to her and one she knew would cause her pain in some way, maybe not physical but she’d definitely hurt her.

“I’m going to take the bag off now.”

The bag was pulled over her head and Mara blinked to clear her vision as the late afternoon sun streaming through the windows hit her eyes. She looked towards the sound of the voice and saw Rhea Winslow sitting on a chintzy rose-patterned armchair, her elegant legs tucked at the ankles to the side, red heels on her feet. A cream pantsuit made her look too refined for the room they were in.

A room Mara recognised all too well, for it was the gardener’s cottage at Blaisdon House.

“Are you well? Are the ropes too tight?” Rhea inquired, as if Mara’s care was of utmost importance to her.

Not wanting to rile the woman who she knew from the stories she’d heard was volatile and cruel, she answered, “They’re fine.”

Rhea nodded in acknowledgement of her words. “I’m sorry about drugging you but you have to understand that we couldn’t risk you alerting Drew to our presence.”

“How did you get inside? Everything was locked when we arrived, and the alarm was on.”

“Allow me to introduce you to my friend.”

Rhea held her hand out, and Mara looked behind her as best she could and saw a tall, beautifully athletic woman, with long chestnut hair, the caramel highlights catching the sun standing in the doorway. Her hazel eyes should’ve been warm but held nothing other than utter contempt and loathing. Mara shivered at the coldness that seemed to seep from her warm, golden-brown skin.

“This is Nazareli Holt. She has a special set of skills.” Rhea looked at the young woman like someone would a beloved niece. “In fact, she has many talents that have proved very useful to me these last few years and we have a common goal, which is even better.”

Nazareli smiled but it wasn’t friendly, it felt more like a tiger showing its teeth.

“Her mother was a friend of mine, but she was slaughtered by an evil man. The same evil man who made my life a misery. Now, with your help, we’ll get what we deserve.”

“Why am I here?” Mara asked getting straight to the point, wanting her fate spelt out for her, the uncertainty so much harder to deal with the truth.

Rhea Winslow nodded and Mara heard the door close behind her as the woman exited.

“You, my dear, are here for two reasons. The first being that my dearest friend Brayden missed you so.”

Winslow paused and kept her gaze on Mara as if waiting for a reaction to the news and she fought the tremble in her limbs at her words. She wouldn’t let this woman see her fear, even as she felt it like venom crawling through her veins.

“The second is that I need something from Drew.”

“What?” Mara asked and worked hard to keep the shiver from her voice.

“I need him to deliver the three to me.”

“The three?” Mara asked tilting her head, not understanding what Rhea was talking about.

“The sisters. They are the chosen. With their gift we will be unstoppable.” Mara still didn’t understand but assumed the sisters in question were Lizzie, Lucy, and Megan. “The sacred text decrees that the chosen three who share blood of the mother shall be the ones who will rule.”

“How do you know it’s sisters?” Mara asked.

Rhea looked irritated now. “Because, woman were worshipped as they should be in those times. They were revered and loved for the life they gave. Treated as gods of men and that is how it will be again.”

“So, you hate men?”

“I do not hate men. I was married to a wonderful man, but he left me too soon.”