Page 27 of Trapped By Vengeance

Valda’s body isn’t even trembling. She is still alive, right? I’m not desecrating her body?

I hold my hand over her lips and feel just the slightest exhale. I release a breath of my own and continue my work.

Taking hold of the back of Valda’s chemise, the one she wore while kissing me, I tear it in the back. The garment had it coming. Then, after the quickest check ever to ensure her legs are not broken, I sit Valda up, leaning her against me. I pull my nightshirt over her head, drawing her thin arms through the sleeves.

Once that’s mostly on, I lay her back down. Valda is so still that I feel like I’m playing with one of Eloise’s dolls. I arrange the skirt to cover as much of her long legs as possible before I remove her leather shoes. Then I tug at the chemise skirt until it comes free.

I lay it out next to Valda’s dress and my other shirt. Then I replace my soaked coat with my spare breeches to be Valda’s new pillow. I pull her dripping hair away from her skin, splaying it across the cave floor.

Finally, I remove my boots, wishing I had the privacy to change my breeches. Since I don’t, I just slide the remaining blanket beneath Valda, giving her as much protection against the cold cave floor as possible. Then I wrap the rest over both her and me.

“This is so she won’t die on my watch,” I mutter to myself as I pull her back flush against my chest. I keep my legs angled away from hers, though, since mine are still sodden and hers are less than clothed.

Her breaths are few and far between. I don’t even hear her heartbeat— but that could be the blood rushing to my ears over the horror of this predicament.

Just because I’ve recently become the type of fellow who abducts maidens does not mean I’m the type to lie beside them without their knowledge. But I promised Valda no harm would come to her on my watch.

She is doing her hardest to undermine me, though. Which is pretty par for the course, all things considering.

Glancing down at her, I hope my heat will warm her frigid body soon. I also wish that I’m not so aware of her rain-drenched floral scent or the way her body is a perplexing combination of sharp angles and graceful curves.

It’s almost more dangerous to think about the here and now with this moment than wonder how I’m going to get all of us off this island, let alone paid and on our merry way— if that’s even a possibility now.

“The job must always be impersonal. The moment emotions get involved, you’re through.”

I grunt to myself. “I definitely undercharged myself with that ransom.”

Chapter Thirteen

Valda

It was a gamble to run off from my captors in an attempt to find somewhere I could leave my body safely come sunset. But I had no idea how risky it truly was. Storms over the ocean are a lot more violent than the rain that continuously pelts Castle Schwerin.

Thankfully, Konrad appears to think that my fainting spell was a consequence of the extreme elements. Less thankfully, he appears to be panicking over the state of my corpse in his ignorance.

I stare at my torn chemise mournfully. Obviously, I was going to have to cast it away the moment I returned to my full wardrobe. But it is still an unfortunate fate for a garment I wasn’t through with yet. May it rest in peace.

At least Konrad didn’t think to remove my gloves, or else he would have put himself in mortal danger. Especially considering how close we lie.

Konrad shifts in his position next to the body he disrobed in more of a gentlemanly fashion than I thought possible. It was a strange thing to witness, wondering what sensations I wouldhave experienced if I were still occupying my body. But being able to watch the determination on his face despite the redness of his ears without being detectedwasentertaining.

Now, I really wish I know what I would feel if I were in my body with Konrad’s arms around me.

But that’s not to say that I wouldn’t enjoy it all the more for being forbidden.

It isn’t just my standard thirst that has me anticipating Konrad finally falling asleep. I’m curious to know a bit more about the enigma that is Konrad of Schwerin— mercenary and loving father.

I glance at the little brat who looks well on her way through dreamland. She has no way of knowing I’m sticking my tongue out at her. If I were a different sort of estrie, I’d drink from her; she’d certainly deserve it.

But I don’t drink children, and Konrad would prefer I fed from him. Not that it matters what Konrad does or doesn’t want. I want to know his memories anyway, not hers.

Finally, Konrad’s eyes drift shut, his breathing evens out, and his grip on my body loosens.

Crouching beside him, it doesn’t take me any time at all to sync my spirt fangs to the thrumming of magic in his blood. Then I puncture him as my fangs become physical.

I once again see the stables from the last dream. This time, though, it’s broad daylight rather than late at night. More notably, the stature and stride I see through now belong to a grown man confidently returning home rather than a scared pup fleeing from danger.

The same elf man from before looks up from tending a horse and grins in my direction. “Konrad!” Dropping a shovel, he charges at me withopen arms. “Home so soon!”

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