Page 12 of Eternally Bound

I laugh as he closes us into his bedroom. The sound of the lock turning goes off like a gong in my head, and a silly song fills my head. I giggle at myself, and Erik lays me down on the bed with a grin on his face.

“Tell me, who named you?” What a strange way to ask that.

He runs his fingers over my furrowed brow and smiles.

“You have been an orphan in every lifetime.” Well, that fucking sucks.

Children aren’t always as lucky as we are. The five of us had the best foster parents imaginable. It brings back good memories, but not all can say that.

“Um, the nuns from the orphanage. One of them told me I was dropped off in a yellow hat and raincoat. Reminder her of an old children’s book.” He twirls my hair around his fingers.

“I believe I owe you a kiss.” I lick my lips and nod.

“The memories will be stronger.” He leans in slowly as if giving me a chance to back away.

“Are you saying you won’t be able to control yourself?” His lips touch mine, and he whispers his words into my mouth.

“I have no intention of controlling myself, beloved.” His tongue parts my lips, and the room spins.

?

1603

Tyrell, Ireland

The war is slowly coming to an end. The rebels continue to fight, but England seems to be the victor. I’ve been trying to keep my head down and out of trouble, but Papa insists I help serve the soldiers in the pub since Mama has fallen ill.

I hate the way they look at me.

The lewd remarks are bad enough, but to touch a maiden? I shake in disgust at the thought. My fanny has had more pats, and my ears have heard ‘Good lass’ so often today that my first meal revolts in my stomach.

I had hoped that the foul weather would help keep the English soldiers in their camps, but alas, the front door bangs open once again as more men file into the already overcrowded pub.

“Fallon!” I turn when Papa calls me.

“Go along and feed the horses.” I bite my lip because it’s storming, but any place is better than here, so I run before he changes his mind.

I throw my clock over my shoulders and lift the hood before pushing the door open. The rain hits my cheeks, and I wonder yet again how something so cold could burn. I run across to the stables and pull the barn door closed to help keep the wind out.

The horses nay, and I gasp when a figure comes at me from a dark corner. I back away but trip on a rack. Before my body hit the floor, the stranger grabbed my arms to help me up.

To both our shock, he loses his footing, and we both land in the bales of hay with a big huff.

“I beg your pardon, madam. I did not intend to scare you. I was just tying up old Marty. He likes to wander.” The proper English gentleman quickly releases me and backs away until my hood falls from my face.

His eyes widened, and he moved closer to me once more.

“Your name, madam?” I shake my head as he sniffs my neck.

“Are you mute?” I slap him and then cover my mouth.

My palm print turns an angry red on his cheek.

“How dare you! To take liberties with a maiden. Back away, or I will scream.” His eyes turn red, and I flinch.

Surely, that was a trick of the lantern light.

He’s handsome. Clean and tailored. It’s my cheeks turning red as I brazenly let my eyes roam where they shouldn’t.

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