AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A cold chill skittered up her spine. Something felt different about this stranger’s approach. Somehow she instinctively recognized it wasn’t a member of her coven. But whoever it was, she sensed a sinister intent.
With nowhere to hide and adrenaline surging, she scooted back against the wall trying to vanish into the darkness.
A menacing figure appeared in her line of sight and stopped just outside her cell. He had the rough-hewn look of a nomad: grisly and wild with a dark beard, long scraggly hair, and a hardened, unforgiving expression. She would not have known him but for those familiar gray and stormy eyes . . . once filled with adoration; now brimming with hatred.
She gasped. “Khalstorm!”
Was he a ghost come to torment her? Or a flesh and blood man bent on revenge? His glare—and the frightening dagger gripped at his side—said the latter.
She pushed to stand, half shocked and half awed by the sight of him. He was alive! He was here. He was monstrous, looking more like a beast than the prince she’d once known.
Though his appearance was bedraggled, he was still a mountain of a man. Broad chested and packed with powerful muscle. She recalled the intoxicating feel of those rock-hard muscles under her fingertips.
In a daze, she approached the bars and met his piercing gaze. “Are you here to kill me?”
5
Khalstorm was bombarded by a confounding combination of emotions at seeing Celeste’s slight form chained, caged, and filthy. Her normally shiny black hair was matted and caked in grime. Her skin was pale and layered with dirt. Her clothes were tattered and torn worse than his own. But those toffee-colored eyes? Those eyes that once devastated him with their unnatural beauty were as stunning as ever, glistening with unshed tears as she gazed up at him as though she barely believed he was real.
She’ll soon wish I wasn’t,he told himself as he maliciously buried the unwanted surge of pity. She deserved this. She deserved worse. He would not feel sorry for her before ending her life.
Still appearing stunned, she absently shuffled forward as though drawn to him against her will. She was so close to him now. So close, he could sense the heat from her body. He could plant his dagger in her chest without even opening the cell. His revenge could be exacted this very moment.
So why was he hesitating?
She drew closer still, grabbing the bars with both hands, and then muttered something that shocked him so thoroughly he was sure he’d misheard. “Be quick about it, before they realize you’re here.”
He blinked, taken aback.
When he made no move, she grabbed him by the wrist. Her sudden touch sent a jolt of heat up his arm. She shocked him further by raising the sword breaker so the tip rested at her breastbone. “They may already know you’re here. They could appear at any moment. Do what you came to do.”
His grip tightened on the hilt. One swift motion would end her. His heart thundered, beating painfully against his ribs. He’d dreamed of this moment. It would be so easy. So quick. But the desperation in her tone gave him pause. She wanted this. Wanted him to kill her. What had she suffered to welcome his wrath with open arms?
He pulled back. If she craved death, he wouldn’t give it to her. Not yet. She deserved to pay for what she’d done to him, his family . . . Lizbet.
“You’ll no’ get off that easy,” he ground out, menace dripping from the words.
Her eyes widened with realization, and he reveled in her look of terror. He turned to the set of keys he’d spotted on his way in, deducing that one was for the lock on the cell door. Then the other must be for the chains on her wrists. The typical cruelty of witches. These keys had been strategically placed here so that every day Celeste was forced to look upon them. The keys to her freedom, forever out of reach.
Snatching them from the hook, he used the largest key to unlock the cell and then pocketed the other. The metal door creaked open. She stumbled back, but he reached out and gripped her by the elbow, halting her retreat. “These shackles on your wrists are meant to keep your magic at bay, yes?” Otherwise, he’d have no chance against her. “Remind me to thank your master for making this easy for me.”
Seeming to shake off her shock and terror, she glanced down the hall behind him and whispered, “Alright, if you’re going to take me from here, we must hurry.”
Again, he was bewildered, but hid it behind a cold mask. Did she still see him as the carefree young prince he’d once been? Did she not realize the danger he posed to her?
She’d soon discover the man he once was had died long ago, alongside his family.
“By all means, let’s go.” He moved his grip to her forearm and hauled her out of the cell. The witches who had held her captive had made breaking her out practically effortless. He’d met no one on his way in. Of course, he’d entered through a hidden passage that they likely had not discovered. There were no guards stationed anywhere. They arrogantly assumed that no one would be brazen enough to enter here, let alone come for Celeste. They believed their magic was enough to contain her. Apparently it was, until now. He wasn’t dim enough, however, to believe they did not have some sort of warning system, so he hurried down the hall, tugging his quarry behind him.
At the end of the corridor was a door that led to a small cliff overlooking the sea. A most convenient exit for a dragon.
Night still spread over the land. Thick cloud cover blocked most of the moonlight. He glanced up to see the great towers of the palace still standing strong. He’d been surprised, as he’d traversed the labyrinth of Garnath castle, how well preserved the structure was. He’d expected to find it in ruins. Aside from occasional signs of neglect, the place could one day be livable again.
A sharp flash of lightning lit the sky and thunder followed. Below, the sea churned in anticipation of the coming storm, frothing and thrashing like a beast preparing for battle. Beside him, Celeste gasped. “No.” but she wasn’t focused on him. Her terrified expression was aimed back the way they’d come. Khalstorm whirled around to find a man with short white hair and a scar running down one side of his face standing in the entrance. Celeste stepped closer to Khalstorm . . . as if for protection.
“You must be Rathmort,” Khalstorm surmised.
“And you must be a dead man,” Rathmort countered, gathering power in his palms. “For anyone who steals from me is not long for this world.”
