Page 48 of The Irresistible Warrior
He suddenly appeared as if out of thin air. He stood a short distance ahead, tall and straight as if he had been waiting for her. His white hair seemed even whiter, his features more chiseled and his hands folded calmly in front of him. He watched her approach with a serenity and confidence that made her skin crawl.
Her steps had halted with his sudden appearance, and she silently warned herself to stay strong. “What have you done to the village?”
His smile was faint. “I have provided it with some temporary peace. Fear makes them noisy. I prefer quiet and privacy when dealing with an issue.”
Her pulse thudded hard. “You’re no cleric.” She couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge that he was a warlock, for then it would become all too real.
“Nay,” he agreed easily, stepping closer. “But I do know vows. And broken vows carry weight.” His eyes sharpened, the calm veneer slipping. “I was refused once at the ring of stones. Refused where I should have been honored. I swore there would be a reckoning. And now…” He lifted a hand, fingers curling like a snare. “It comes through you.”
Aura spun, the hem of her cloak snapping at her ankles as she ran for the keep. But the air thickened, heavy as water, dragging at her limbs. Her breath rasped as her legs fought to move while William advanced without haste.
“You will not escape me,” he murmured, his smile tightening. “This time I will have what is due me.”
The Great Hallpressed close around Declan as he strode through, the witch at his side. Something was wrong. The air hung heavy, dragging against his limbs, and the silence was unnerving.
He swore under his breath. “What is this?”
The witch’s eyes narrowed. “His power. He extended it over the keep and no doubt the village as well.”
Declan drove forward though it was difficult, slowing him down. The keep’s main door loomed ahead, no light leaked around its frame. He seized the iron handle, his hand struggling to grip it tightly and heaved against the oppressive weight that challenged him.
It did not move.
He shoved his shoulder against it, muscles straining, rage burning in his chest. “Damn you—open!”
“It obeys only Alweth.” The witch lifted her hands and kept her voice sharp. “He’s bound it shut.” She began to chant, her words harsh and foreign, prickling along Declan’s skin.
Declan slammed his fist against the wood, fury raging through him. His wife was out there along with the warlock, and he couldn’t reach her. Even if he did, how did he save her from a warlock?
Her chant grew louder, fiercer, until the air cracked with invisible strain. The door groaned, shuddered, and, at last, gave way. Cold morning air rushed in, yet it carried no sound of village life. Only silence.
The witch’s eyes darkened as she swept her gaze over the empty village. “He has her.”
Declan’s grip tightened on his sword. “Where?”
Her gaze turned grim. “The ring of stones. He’s taken her there to finish what was denied him long ago.”
CHAPTER 22
Aura stood in the shadow of the ring of stones, the air unnaturally still. The gray monoliths towered in a strange formation, their surfaces etched with symbols, age, and moss. She shivered at what they might represent to the warlock, what dark magic they might hold.
The warlock moved with restless purpose, pacing the circle’s edge. His cleric robe had been replaced by a black robe with intricate symbols stitched around the hem and all the edges. It flowed around him, the hem snapping at his ankles with every step he took as if the garment itself showed obedience. His sharp features were lit with fevered gleam and impatience. He hadn’t said a word since they got there, and Aura got the feeling he was waiting for something or someone.
Her voice broke the silence. “What are you waiting for?”
He halted, eyes narrowing on her. “Patience, lass. Revenge is not a thing to be rushed. It must be savored.” He gestured toward the stones, his hand sweeping wide. “This ground remembers. Refusal. Betrayal. Defiance. Today it will remember something new… submission.”
Aura’s heart pounded, but she lifted her chin. “If it’s submission you seek from me, you’ll wait an eternity. I will never submit to you.”
His laugh was soft and chilling. “A spark of fire, I expected no less. But even fire burns out beneath the right hand. You are where I want you, lass. That is all that matters.”
Her hands curled into fists. “I’ll never be yours.”
“You already are,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze raked over her, not with desire but possession. “Not for what you are, but for what you represent. Through you, I will balance the scales that were long denied me. Through you, I will claim my due.”
Aura’s breath caught, fear tangling with anger. The way he said it—not for what you are, but for what you represent—made her blood chill.
He smiled, slow and cruel. “All that’s left is for the stones to witness, and they will. Today I will have my revenge.”
