Page 50

Terran glanced over his shoulder at Kenric to see a small smile of satisfaction on his lips. A frown carved its way into Terran’s forehead. He didn’t like the effect his cousin had on his future wife. He turned away from Kenric and took Bria’s hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm, almost as if protecting her. He guided her down the hall into a more secluded area of the castle. Kenric trailed them like a shadow.

“You certainly rise late,” Terran commented.

Bria glanced over her shoulder at Kenric. “Must we have an escort?”

“He’s interested in what I’m going to ask you.”

Bria stopped and faced him. “Whatever you have to ask, you may do so right here.”

Terran studied her slightly upturned chin, the glint of defiance in her eyes. “Are you afraid?” he challenged.

“Yes,” she admitted.

His admiration grew stronger with each passing moment. No man would dare to admit his fear, even though he felt it. For Bria to do so meant she had more honesty and confidence than any man he knew.

“I’m afraid to be alone with you,” she clarified.

A grin quirked the side of his lip. After his behavior two nights ago, he thought that was a fair explanation.

“I have a right to be, after you murdered your last betrothed.”

Her words caught him unaware. Murder Odella? Such fury as he had never known claimed his entire being. He grabbed her arm and squeezed it tightly. “You will not speak again of Odella. She was more of a lady than you will ever be.”

Bria’s face twisted in agony and she bent her body slightly, favoring the arm he was squeezing. Terran lessened his grip, but something beneath her velvet sleeve captured his attention. He ran his fingers up and down her arm until he found the top and bottom of the discrepancy beneath her clothing. He looked at the width his fingers spanned.

Bria pulled her arm away from his touch, holding it as if it were wounded.

Wounded! Terran’s eyes snapped to lock with Bria’s. That’s what it felt like, wrappings from a wound. A sword wound, by the width of it.

He grabbed her forearm in a tight grip. “What is this?” he demanded.

Bria tried to pull her arm free. “I was hurt,” she replied.

Kenric stepped up beside Terran. His small, ugly eyes glared at her.

Bria’s gaze shifted between the two men. “I was wounded yesterday trying to break up a fight!” she said desperately.

Terran pulled her closer. “My enemy was wounded yesterday.”

“Terran, you’re hurting me,” she whispered.

Terran immediately released her arm. “How is it you have the same wound as my enemy?” he demanded.

Bria rubbed her arm. She opened her mouth, searching for an answer, but nothing came forth. Finally, she closed her mouth.

“What’s going on here?”

Terran whirled to find Bria’s grandfather standing in the hallway. He was about ready to command the old man away, when he saw his left arm, which was wrapped in a cloth and cradled by a sling. Then a servant walked by, moving down the hallway. A fresh cloth covered the upper part of his left arm. Terran could have sworn he saw a mocking smile on the servant’s lips. Another man walked by, his upper left arm wrapped, too. Terran’s anger boiled and he snapped his gaze back to Bria. Good Lord! How many other men are wearing wrappings around their arms to cover for her lover?

He glared at her with all the murderous intensity he felt simmering inside before whirling and stalking away from her.

She was the key to finding his enemy, but he couldn’t speak with her when there was this much rage inside him. He couldn’t face her and look into her eyes and hear her slanderous words about Odella.

He paused at an open balcony to look out on the lands, but saw nothing of the world below. He ran a hand over his face. Bria thought he had murdered Odella. It pained him to the core of his being. No wonder she didn’t trust him. No wonder she looked upon him with distaste. No wonder she never smiled at him.

Suddenly, a terrifying thought occurred to him. Would Bria do the same thing Odella had done to avoid marrying him? Would Bria take her own life?

Chapter twenty-three