Page 34 of Reign of Wicked Temptation

Guilt and panic clawed at his throat. For all his threats, Henry could not bring himself to actually murder the woman he loved. Instead, he stalked to the neighboring cell and swung the door open.

Without prompting, Crispin tossed her inside and shut the door. Henry slid the bolt home and locked the door.

“Come.” Henry handed a sword to Crispin.

“Are you able to ride?” Crispin’s concern warmed Henry to his core.

He gave a firm nod.

“Then let us away.” Crispin clapped his hand on Henry’s shoulder. He turned and crept up the stairs.

Henry followed closely. The receding sounds of his brothers’ shouting faded into a distant memory. Once they reached the main corridor, Crispin clung to the wall, his mission clear. Escape.

The castle lay deserted around them. Once they reached the inner bailey, Crispin stopped short. A faint sound of conversation drifted through the cracked door.

“How many?” Henry whispered.

“Five, perhaps six.” Crispin motioned toward the opposite wall. “If we exit through the kitchen, we may find a way to escape through the rear.”

Henry and Crispin remained in the shadows as they wove through the labyrinth of the unfamiliar castle. The kitchen lay deserted. Francis did not have much support in his quest to seize the throne. At least at this point. Once he infested the kingdom with his lies, the people would turn on Crispin. They must reach the castle and unmask him before it was too late.

Outside, the sun dipped below the tree line. If they made it into the forest, they could remain hidden with ease. Horses would have been useful, but they could not take the chance of stealing horses from the stables and drawing attention to themselves.

“This way.” Crispin followed the outer wall, taking shelter behind barrels and crates stacked along the path.

Ducking behind a large crate, they waited until the guard at the postern gate stopped to piss along the far side of the wall. The rushing sound of water over rocks filtered through the air. Quietly, they slipped through the doorway and out onto a rocky ledge, below lay a river.

A narrow path led around the side of the castle wide enough for a single horse cart. If they followed it to the woods, they could easily be caught if their escape from the dungeon were noticed.

“Which way?” Henry leaned against the stone wall.

“Who goes there?” A guard appeared over the side of the wall. He disappeared when he could not locate the source of the noise. They were caught.

Henry’s heart raced. He would rather die than subject himself to the confines of the cell at the hands of his family and Francis. “Jump.”

Crispin’s jaw set as though reaching the same conclusion.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Henry jumped into the frigid waters of the rushing river. The icy water bit into his flesh, soothing and scalding simultaneously. He struggled to right himself, but the current swept him away.

He battled to keep his head above the water. Arms flailing and chest convulsing, he fought. The castle faded into a small pinprick in the distance as the river carried him downstream. His body sank into a numb void, and he slipped beneath the surface surrendering to his fate.

Chapter Sixteen

The river surged aroundhim, pushing and pulling like a flag whipping in the wind. His clothes absorbed the cold water and weighed him down. Distant shouts echoed behind him, lost in the sounds of the water crashing against the rocks. Crispin searched for Henry, who had jumped in first.

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