Page 100 of Bound By Blood

When they reached the clearing, the four torchbearers formed a large circle. Drake and Lucien took their places in the center of the circle, facing each other.

Lucien’s second took a place outside the circle. A moment later, Stefan emerged from the trees and took up his position on the opposite side of the circle.

Nadiya stood apart, her long gray cloak billowing in the faint breeze.

One of the torchbearers walked to the center of the circle and stood between Drake and Lucien. “Lucien Muscarella, Master of the Carpathian Fortress,” he intoned, “be it known that Drake Sherrad, former Master of the Carpathian Fortress, has challenged your right to rule, claiming you have obtained it by treachery. He has come here this night demanding satisfaction. Should he be the victor, he will take possession of all your lands and holdings, both here and in Italy. Do you accept his challenge? Or concede?”

Lucien cleared his throat. “I accept.”

“Francisco Muscarella. Stefan Sherrad. You have been chosen as seconds. Step forward.”

Francisco and Stefan did as bidden, bowed to the torchbearer, and then returned to their respective places outside the circle.

“All those required to be in attendance are here present,” the torchbearer said solemnly. “Let whatever blood is shed this night be done with honor.” And so saying, he returned to his place in the circle.

A low, keening wind sprang up, rattling the leaves of the trees. The torches flickered erratically, sending dancing shadows across the ground.

Drake stared at his opponent. He could almost taste Lucien’s fear, his reluctance to fight. “Yield to me, Lucien, and I will spare your life.”

Drake had no doubt that, had Nadiya not been present, Lucien would have surrendered.

Lucien wiped his palms on his trousers. Opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. With a mighty cry, he lunged at Drake, his sword hissing through the air.

Uttering a battle cry of his own, Drake brought up his sword, parrying Lucien’s thrust. The ringing sound of metal striking metal rose in the air, along with the dust stirred by the combatants. Lucien circled Drake warily, testing the strength and mettle of his opponent. He roared with triumph when his blade found its mark and he drew first blood.

Drake paid little heed to the pain of the wound or the blood running down his arm, his only thought to destroy the man in front of him, to reclaim the Fortress that was rightfully his, to protect the women he loved. So long as he lived, they lived.

Spurred by fear, Lucien lunged and parried frantically.

Drake fought coolly, slowly wearing down his opponent. He had no thought for those who watched. No thought for his wounds. For this moment in time, Elena and Kaitlyn had ceased to exist. There was only Lucien and the need to destroy him.

Sensing defeat, Lucien made a last bold lunge, his sword coming up hard and fast, only to be deflected by Drake’s blade.

Howling with fear and fury, Lucien backpedaled, his sword swinging wildly from side to side.

Certain of victory, Drake spun in a circle, feinted left, charged right, and drove his sword into Lucien’s heart. Lucien staggered backward, his sword falling from his hand, a look of surprise spreading over his face as he fell to his knees, then toppled sideways to the ground.

A collective gasp rose from those watching as Drake swung his blade again, cleanly severing Lucien’s head from his body.

But there was little time for victory. He had scarcely wiped the blood from his sword when Stefan shouted, “Behind you!”

Drake ducked and whirled around as a sword whistled past his head. With a cry, he plunged his sword into his attacker’s heart, then spun around as another man charged toward him.

Men began to appear out of the trees on all sides. The air rang with the sounds of battle as Drake’s brothers engaged Lucien’s kin.

During a brief lull, Drake searched for Nadiya, but there was no sign of her. And no time to worry over her whereabouts as another of Lucien’s people lunged at him.

The air reeked of blood and death by the time Stefan dispatched the last of Lucien’s men.

There was little conversation as the victors made sure their foes would not rise again. One common grave served as the final resting place for the deceased.

When all was done, Drake led the way up to the Fortress. Apparently word of Lucien’s defeat had preceded Drake’s arrival. The massive front door stood open. None of Lucien’s kin remained.

As those who had fought with him entered the Fortress, Drake thanked each of them in turn for their assistance. And then, with little thought for the wounds he had sustained or the blood dripping on the floor, he called home.

Elena sighed as she closed her cell phone. Murmuring, “He’s all right, thank the Lord,” she sank down on the sofa next to Kaitlyn. “He’ll be home soon. He’s going to stay at the Fortress until Andrei can get there. Stefan and Ciprian are notifying Northa and the others in case they want to return.” She smiled through the tears of joy shining in her eyes. “The rest of his brothers are getting in touch with their families so they can all move back to the Fortress.”

Kaitlyn threw her arms around her mother. “That’s wonderful news!” She looked up at Zack, who had been adding wood to the fire. “What’s wrong?”

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