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The Wolf's Captive Ch. 01

By: anais_v



1272, England

Making her way back towards the keep, Rowena skirted the length of the field she had just been foraging in. To her mind, this was the best time to be up and about. The beauty of the vibrant forest beyond, the clean, crisp air and dew-wet grass that made up her father's lands somehow made the day ahead seem easier to get through. It was such a contrast to the grubby keep beyond. She sighed in pleasure -- and not a little forlornly -- there was time enough yet for her to linger before the serfs rose and their slumped, weary figures wandered about the place as they carried out their early morning duties. And then the day would truly begin. But she would not allow the misery awaiting her to impede on this moment.

A low mist hung over the earth, swirling over her bare feet as she wandered. There was something almost mythical about the grounds this morning, she mused on a smile -- but a soft, animal mewling sound behind her pushed all thoughts of whimsy away and she stiffened mid-stride.

Rowena turned slowly and glanced warily about the wide, open space and there, crouching low in the fields but a short distance from her was a grey wolf. She gasped and backed away, wondering how it had crept toward her so quietly but it did not appear to be on the brink of attack. Rather, it lowered its body fully to the ground as if to signal it presented no harm and watched her with what she could only describe as doleful eyes. She almost laughed at the thought -- as if wolves were capable of such feelings! The forest abutting the Haverton grounds had long since been a riddled with such beasts but never before had they ventured so close to the keep and never before had they been so breath-taking in their beauty. This one looked larger than any of the others she had spied -- but perhaps that was due in part to its proximity.

'What are you about?' she mused aloud, favouring the seemingly docile creature with a slightly nervous smile. She did not want to encourage its approach but neither did she wish to frighten it away. After a few moments passed in which the wolf lay still and almost contemplative of her, Rowena took as calm a step as she could manage towards it

'You had better be off -- or else father will have you tracked down and slain like the others,' she said sadly. 'It would be such a shame. You are a beautiful beast.'

The wolf's ears seemed to twitch in time with her words and she laughed as he extended one of its front paw's, sliding it along the wet ground towards her as if in appeal.

'You are a strange one,' she mused, awed by the ice-blue magnificence of the eyes assessing her - hopefully not in the guise of summing up his next meal. But did not wolves travel in packs? Perhaps this here was a lone wolf and had approached her for company? She could well understand its reasoning if so.

Rowena knew a strong urge to fondle the wolf and feel his pelt beneath her hands, to see if it was as silky as it looked since most of the wolves and other animals the men brought back to the keep bore filthy, tangled coats. The rising sun, however, stopped any thoughts she may have had of lingering - if she did not return soon her absence would be noted by Edwin and it was with some reluctance that she left but before she turned, she reached a hand into her woven basket and threw a handful of cereal grains in the wolf's direction, rewarding him for his obedience.

'I would rather you gorged yourself on that than on the poor rabbits your kind seem to favour,' she said ruefully and with a nod, dismissed the watchful creature from her mind as thoughts of the day ahead lowered her previously contended mood.

*

'Where have you been?'

Rowena winced at her brother's curt tone. Even though he no doubt knew the answer, she had learned it was prudent in such situations to remain silent.

'I do not like the thought of you wandering about alone. I shall have that damned rabbit hole you seem to fit through blocked up.'

Rowena smiled at the threat, knowing it to be idle.

'You frown too much, brother -- what will your bride say when she sees how aged the man she is to wed has become?'

Edwin's face softened somewhat at her words, a distant look coming into his pale green eyes. 'She is not a frivolous chit like you -- she loves me regardless of my face and form. The same could not be said about you, however.'

'Do not go on and on about him, please. I will not marry him and that is the end of it.'

Edwin frowned at her and Rowena favoured him with her back, making her way towards the kitchen conscious that he followed close behind, her sensitivity to people's moods picking up the usual gravity that emanated from him.

'When I wed Sylvia and leave this place, who will there to be to look out for you? You know father is...' his voice trailed off and Rowena stopped at the entrance to the kitchens and faced him in irritation. He frowned at her. 'You are being foolish. It is high time you were married,' he advised, reaching out a hand to stay her and she would move away once more.

Sighing, Rowena muttered, 'Perhaps it is - but I do not like Harold. Would you have me marry someone I do not like?'

'He is an upstanding man -- the son of a Baron! And he is most taken with you. It is the best offer you are ever likely to receive,' he pointed out in stiff tones, loath to hurt her feelings but deeming it necessary.

Rowena shook his hand away from her arm and lifted her chin, determined not to let him see the hurt in her eyes. 'He looks at me in a way that makes my skin crawl...and he is thin and scrawny and has teeth like a horse.'

Edwin scoffed in irritation but a bellow from the hall caught his attention and almost in involuntary reaction, his body stiffened as he stood to attention. 'That is father...we will speak about this later. Now go and break your fast and keep your head down today. Father is not in a good mood, by the sound of things.'

Rowena watched her brother's retreating back through blurred eyes. In a sennight he would marry and leave this place and she would be alone. Few of the serfs showed her any respect for they were loyal to her swine of a father and risked his wrath should they show her, his loathed by-blow, any ounce of kindness. She wondered if she would be able to bear such an existence without Edwin's presence and for the briefest of moments considered accepting Harold's proposal but dismissed the idea with a grimace of distaste -- she would rather fester away behind the walls of a convent and never know the touch of a man's hand than willingly become the wife of that lecher. I will never know the touch of a man's hand... as much as it shamed her, she thought this the cruellest of trades.

She supposed she was her mother's daughter through and through, as her father often delighted in screaming at her when he had imbibed in too much ale. If she went to a convent, she would never know if the wet heat that gathered between her thighs when she watched Adam, the blacksmiths son, helping his father in the hot summers, his linen shirt discarded, his taut chest gleaming with sweat, could be appeased by the skilful touch of a masterful man. And since Harold was not that man, she would never know if she accepted his suit. She shuddered as the memory of his hot, fettered breath in her face at their last meeting came to her. She would find another way, she determined. She would not allow her only options in life to be between a life spent in a crumbling abbey and life spent serving that perverted swine of a man. There had to be something more for her, she determined. There just had to.

*

Male voices, the tones happy and boisterous, approached close and Rowena peeked around the walls of the busy dairy as the serfs around her prepared the milk for the noon meal. Mounted men made their way toward the stables from their morning hunt. The limp body of a wolf was slung over the back of one of the horses. Rowena's heart thudded strongly in dismay.

For the past five mornings, her wolf friend had followed her, seemingly awaiting her presence for she found him in the same spot she had left him the first day. He had followed a good number of paces behind her as she foraged the grounds and checked on the wheat and it had amused her thoroughly. By the fifth morning -- mere hours ago now -- he had waited for her right by her rabbit hole and had finally closed the gap between them, enough to approach her outstretched hand and hungrily eat the grain she offered...before spitting it out. If her brother had seen her boldness, no doubt he would have had a fit - but she trusted the fierce looking creature and knew that if he meant harm, he would have attacked well before now. Now he was dead. Before she could consider the practicality of her actions, the blurred form of the keep and butter moved quickly before her eyes and Rowena was crossing the courtyard and moving in the direction of the male banter, her heart thudding strongly in her chest, her eyes hot.

'What are you doing here?'

Rowena stiffened as her father dismounted but despite herself and her years of suffering under his cruel tongue, her voice shook with anxiety.

'I -- wished to help Baldwin groom the horses.'

Her father snorted in annoyance. 'Stupid runt,' he muttered the preferred epithet for her under his breath, not quite meeting her eyes and strode away towards the hall, his gait slightly clumsy with the beer he had no doubt liberally started his day with. Nothing unusual there.

Moving through the shadowed, wooden structure, Rowena waited until the last of the men departed in the direction of the keep and gasped at the pitiful sight that met her eyes. Thrown carelessly on blood-splattered hay, the wolf's broken body looked somehow pitifully small, its ice-blue eyes wide and unseeing and Rowena knew a deep sense of grief. Why, she reasoned, dashing at her cheeks, should she feel so mournful? It was only a mangy animal after all and one that had defied the rules of its species by being so reckless so as to be hunted and found so easily. A loner, she thought, probably because he was the runt of the pack much like her. That he had been so bold to have approached the walls of the grounds today to meet her should have told her that. She had spoken to it like it was a friend, for goodness sake, when the only reason it had returned had no doubt been to greedily eat the grain and crops on offer after it had detected she represented no threat. How wrong the poor thing had been. How she would miss its strange companionship.

Falling to her knees beside the lifeless body, Rowena allowed her hand to tentatively settle in the grey fur and pulled back jerkily in surprise. The body was still warm. She blinked back tears, knowing she cried for more than just the life of this slain beast. I must act quickly, she thought then. It would not be long before the drunken men returned to gut the beast. She could not bear the thought of the lustrous grey pelt being used within the hall so casually.

Dashing the tears from her face, she searched out the stables for a sack, cloth - anything to wrap the body in - and settled on a discarded gown, no doubt from one of the many female serfs who used the stables as a shelter in which to carry out their lusty liaisons.

Not allowing herself to look at the beautiful eyes, she covered the wolf quickly and decided it best to drag the body than struggle with carrying it. It was a difficult task and time consuming but the lack of order and management in the keep was such that she could and would roam about as she pleased without being caught. She knew of all the best places to hide and did so now, pulling the wolf into a dark area here, a ditch there, when voices approached. When she reached the rabbit hole her brother spoke of -- her escape out of the keep and into to the wide fields beyond -- she stuffed her burden deep in the ditch, deciding it best to wait until the following morning to discard of it. With her fingers, she clawed at the earth around her and threw it over the rough coarse wool of the gown shielding the limp body and continued thus until the brown material was fully covered in dirt. Nobody would find it here. With a final, pitiful look at the covered body, she fled.

*

'Runt!'

Rowena started hard and snuggled further into her pallet, closing her eyes tight in the guise of sleep, fear numbing her body.

'She would never have done such a thing!'

Edwin's voice. Rowena sat up in bemusement, wary of the many eyes of the serfs on her, even in the darkened hall. A callused hand closed over her neck and lifted her bodily from her pallet.

'You will kill her!' Edwin cried, throwing a hard punch at the man's restraining hand.

Rowena's father appeared stunned and looked at his son in bewilderment.

'I am your father!' he roared then. 'I demand respect!'

'You march into the hall as your serfs sleep -- you maul your daughter. You will get respect when you earn it,' Edwin said coldly, staggering as his father cuffed him about the head but though her father was older, broader, heavier, Edwin had the agility of youth on his side and fingered his cheek gingerly, his stare unyielding. He had endured his father's foul temper for years and it had hardened him. He was no longer the boy his father had beaten and it seemed, finally, that his sire recognised that fact.

On a muttered curse, the older man weaved his way through the cowed looking serfs and strode heavily towards the stairs, climbing them loudly as he made his way to his chamber above.

'Come with me,' Edwin whispered, reaching out a hand and guiding her from the avid audience before them.

*

'Did you do it, Rowena? Did you hide that wolf?'

'I don't know what you mean.'

Edwin cursed. Although the moon was bright above, he could discern nothing from her impassive expression. 'The wolf I killed today on the hunt. When it came to clean and gut it, it was nowhere to be found but the loss was not dwelt on much -- until now, clearly. Why father belatedly assumes it was you I do not know.'

'You killed it-' Rowena shook her head in frustration. She would not give herself away further. But of course, why would Edwin have paid mind to the wolf? The men hunted for both sport and necessity and now that winter approached, their furs would come in handy. Edwin could not have known he was her wolf. Her reasoning, however, did little to appease her anger at the man but the persistent ache at her neck calmed her somewhat. 'You saved me - I thought father would strangle me, kill me,' Rowena whispered, fingering her tender neck. 'He will kill me, Edwin, when you leave.'

'Nay, he will not -- tomorrow I set off for the abbey that is two days' ride from here. I will make plans for your arrival there -- father need not know. It will be too late when he discovers your absence and I will tell the holy women of the need for stealth. Though I doubt he will bother to track you down,' he sneered in disgust.

Rowena sniffed, irritated that she couldn't prevent her treacherous tears from giving her away and gasped in surprise as her elder brother pulled her awkwardly into his arms. 'Hush, now. You will be safe there. Do not ask again if you can come with me. There would be talk about father and I do not want Sylvia to know about this cesspit I hail from -- she met me at court and thinks our father a godly man,' he laughed bitterly. 'And besides - Sylvia would not like it, either.'

'How can you m-marry someone so cruel hearted?' Rowena sniffed into his chest.

'Stop,' Edwin squeezed her arms and held her away from him. 'Do not blame her. I try to do well by you. I will be giving the abbey a sum for you -- it will be good, Rowena, I swear it. You will learn to read and write there. You can grow to have a good, meaningful life if you work hard,' he sighed heavily and gave her a pat on the elbow. 'Now get back in the hall, you are shivering. Go on.'

Rowena favoured her brother with a final look of betrayal before stumbling out of his grasp toward the hall.

*

Crouched by her rabbit-hole, Rowena stared at the empty space, bewildered It could not have been her father -- no doubt he had forgotten the episode as soon as he'd fallen onto his pallet and it was still early yet for him to have woken. Her brother, then? Nay, Edwin had not believed she had done it, she had sensed so from his tone last night. Feeling deflated, Rowena hunkered down and shimmed under the walls of the keep as she did every morning, brushing the earth from her skirt as she reached the other side. But the sight before her sent her thudding to the ground once more, her suddenly weak legs giving way beneath her.

The tall, nude figure of a man crouched over the clumsily wrapped body of her wolf met her stunned eyes. His own, hostile, blazing orbs that pinned her to the spot, as if she could even find the courage to flee, were the last thing she saw before she felt her body slackening as she slipped into a deep swoon.

*

I must open them -- why won't they open. With an effort, Rowena finally succeeded in lifting one heavy eye-lid and blinked at her surroundings languidly, before sense had time to return.

'You are awake -- come with me.'

Staring dumbly at the young girl with the strange, light eyes that assessed her calmly, Rowena made to question but she dipped low and left, disappearing through the flaps of the tent Rowena now acknowledged she was housed in.

Rising from the thin pallet, Rowena cradled her aching head, her eyes struggling to adjust to the lack of light in the tent and in some desperation, crawled between the thin flaps and blinked up at the bright sky. What day was it, she thought in rising panic.

'Do you come or not?' an irritated voice called. Standing with a complete stillness by one of the many trees littering this unfamiliar woodland, the girl assessed her impatiently.

'Who are you? Where am I? That man! That nude...'

'I am Emma and you will follow me now.'

Rowena stared in puzzlement at the assertive girl, so much smaller and younger than herself but so arrogant in her demand.

'And if I do not?' she asked, her previous fright at her fate seeming abduction giving way to wariness for surely a band of ruffians and outlaws bent on murder and rapine would not have amid their midst a cherubic faced little girl?

'If you do not come with me then you will not see your brother,' a smirk played about the girl's lips as she watched Rowena's expression carefully.

'Edwin...?'

The girl turned once more and started to move away and this time, Rowena followed.

*

A cluster of bearded men sat close to a low-fire and affixed to a wooden pole buried deep in the earth was Edwin, his lip swollen and split, his hands tightly bound together.

'Our guest is awake,' a grey haired man stated casually and at the booming tones, Rowena watched as Edwin roused, his eyes wandering dumbly about until they finally settled on her. His eyes widened and his voice muffled behind the gag stuffed between his lips as he strained piteously against the bonds that held him to no avail. Rowena shot a quick look at the observing men before sprinting towards Edwin, only to be brought up short before her hands could reach him. Strong arms lifted her bodily before letting her fall unceremoniously to the hard ground, mere inches from booted feet.

Following the boots up to long, strong legs and a wide shouldered torso, Rowena gasped at the face staring down at her.

'You -- it was you I saw but why? Why are you doing this?'

Cool eyes looked away from her though her captor did not move. Rather, he folded heavily muscled arms over his chest and widened his stance, his dominance over her seated figure plain to see by all. He stared ahead at her brother.


The Wolf's Captive Ch. 01



'He killed my brother,' he stated in hard tones. 'Now he will pay in kind.'

Rising on shaking legs, the result of hunger and shock, no doubt, Rowena stared up at the taut face head and shoulders above her and shook her head in appeal. 'Nay -- Edwin would never kill. You must be mistaken, he-'

'Be silent, wench,' the stoic faced man bit out, favouring her with a quelling look, his eyes flashing with something turbulent but indecipherable.

'Your eyes...I have seen you before -- before today,' she clarified, more to herself, feeling dizzy as his ice-blue eyes narrowed in loathing.

'Aye -- you have,' he agreed in hard tones. 'I see you remember,' he said then, a humourless smile playing about his handsome lips.

'It makes no sense.'

He grunted. Where before he had appeared to avoid her, now his eyes were direct, unyielding. 'You are wondering now if the beasts and demons you dreamed of a child are real. Well, I cannot speak on their behalf but I certainly am.'

'You're a wolf?' Rowena retorted with false bravado, her tones patronizing.

'What do you see? When you look at me?' he countered calmly.

A loud male laugh met his words and he frowned across the way before returning to her once more and Rowena considered him in bemusement. She saw a tall, golden man. His face strongly cut, his hair thick and over-long...and his eyes...

'Well?' he prodded.

'I see an arrogant braggart!'

He smiled. Rowena took a step away.

'You see a man. In the field, when you picked at your grain and sang your silly songs and talked of your frivolous women's things - you saw a wolf.'

Rowena shook her head but the madman continued, undeterred:

'There was a particular song I found rather interesting -- mostly because I could not believe such crudeness could come from between such sweet lips.'

Palming her heated face as she recalled the filthy song many of the maids in the kitchen sung to pass the time as they cooked in the hot room, Rowena cried, 'You are mad!'

'Nay, I am grateful,' he smiled as she threw him a mistrustful look at his sudden change of mood. 'You placed my brother in that ditch, did you not? You sought to treat him with...dignity.'

'You are trying to tell me that a wolf is your brother,' Rowena murmured.

'Blaine is our brother no longer -- Blaine is now a part of the earth! And it is all because of you!'

The one called Emma hurtled over to them and stopped before Rowena, her eyes fierce with hatred.

'It is the way of things,' Rowena returned apologetically and would have laughed at the fact that she went along with these mad folk were she not so frightened. 'Men freely hunt-'

Emma kicked her hard in the shin but strong hand stopped Rowena from falling onto her rear, gripping firmly about her forearm.

'You are a fool, Cedric,' the girl spat, her tone low. 'You should chain her with her brother like the filth that she is and yet you humour her, pander to her -- you let your lust for this-'

'Enough!'

The small clearing became almost unnaturally quiet, as if even the birds above and around the dense forest had been quelled by the roaring command.

The young girl sniffed, her expression unrepentant but she remained silent.

'Arthur,' Cedric, the seeming leader of this band of ruffians, called then, his tones hard and curt. 'Restrain the girl...'

Rowena gave him a look of silent appeal, tried to hold onto those captivating eyes, but Cedric's eyes drifted away from her as swiftly as he released her arm and then he was turning on booted feet and stalking away, his face like thunder as he disappeared into the foliage.

The grey haired man who had mocked her before rose and took strong strides towards her. Before she had a chance to struggle in his hold, he was deftly tying thick, rough rope about her wrists and then her ankles and then he too left, followed by the other men. Emma was the last to leave. With a final look of loathing, the girl pushed Rowena to the ground and kicked earth into her face. And then she was alone, her brother having passed out some time ago. Oh, God, she prayed, let them not return.

*

'Here, do not struggle.'

Cedric carefully untied the length of rope from around the slim ankles.

'You are cold.'

'What do you expect,' the shaky voice returned, loathing underlying each word and he flinched. He had not thought anything. He had been so consumed with rage and grief that he had abandoned them all, had run freely through the forest until he had worked the energy off. When he had returned moments ago to find the chilled and seeming unconscious female curled up in a ball on the hard ground, he had known a sense of rage at her treatment that stunned him, for all its ridiculousness. She was no concern to him.

'You left me in the dead of winter in my thin garment -- was it not your intention to return to find a corpse?'

Cedric grunted, untying the girl's hands. 'It is hardly the dead of winter.'

She pulled warily away from him once free, rubbing at her abused wrists, her expression rightfully mistrustful before something seemed to occur to her. Glancing over her shoulder at the empty pole of wood her brother had been secured to, she said, her eyes wide as the moon:

'Is he-'

'Nay,' Cedric said harshly, rising. 'He lives. For now. Come,' he murmured. 'You must be hungry.'

A stubborn sniff met his words and despite himself he smiled. The sun was setting and cast a warm glow over the girl's breath-taking features, gave her dark hair a golden sheen. She bewitched him, God's truth. His lust for her, he would not deny, for any stout-blooded man would be moved by the tempting form of her.

As she braced a palm to the earth to rise, she gasped and fell to the floor once more.

'My legs -- I cannot feel them!'

Cedric hunkered down and briskly caught a slim calf between his hands, chaffing at the smooth skin there, cupping the small bare feet in his hands and though he could tell the girl reviled his ministrations, she gave in on a sigh, her expression pained as the blood started to flow freely again.

'Does that feel better?' he asked quietly, his eyes rising from her shapely leg to her face. Her eyes watched him in puzzlement.

'I do not understand...why are you being considerate?'

'I do not wish you harm.'

'But you brought me here.'

At the softly spoken statement, Cedric expelled a harsh breath. 'I did -- because I wanted you. Nay, do not cower away. I will not...hurt you. I promise you that.'

Her eyes, which had previously been intent and angry on his face, now looked away. 'It is the only way you will have me otherwise.'

Cursing himself for a swine at the girl's fearful look, Cedric nodded. 'So it seems. I would have you willingly or not at all. You were not part of my plan, girl. You should not have come out...if you had stayed away then-'

A small hand covered his own, resting on his bent thigh. 'Please,' the girl whispered. 'Please let us go.'

Angrily, he slashed a hand through the air. 'Nay. You are mine now. You will serve as my serf if you will not agree to warm my bed. Nothing you say will sway me, nothing you say will allow you to return to the place you call home for you will know a new home and master now. Do you come or not?'

Cedric frowned heavily at her, annoyed at his own harshness and when she finally looked at him, it was not with the bereft look at one who mourned for their former life. It was resigned, yes, but almost...relieved? Nay, it could not be so.

'I cannot walk.' The haughty tones brought him up fast from his frivolous musings.

Cedric nodded, rising with the girl scoped in his arms. 'Do not argue,' he warned. 'Unless you wish to crawl on all fours.'

The girl was silent, her face turned away from his as he carried her through the forest.

'You mean like you do?'

He blinked at her retort. 'Aye, like I do.'

'Do you still spin that tale?' she grumbled. 'Do you think me a simple-minded fool, sir?'

'Nay -- I think you a saucy tongued wench who would do better to learn sweeter ballads. Where did you hear that crude song?'

Pale green eyes met his in frustration and resistance to accept the truth. 'You try to trick me -- no doubt you heard the exchange between the wolf and I that morning from -- from your hiding place in the field. Now you think to play games with me.'

'Look into my eyes. Look deeply,' Cedric said gruffly, her weight in his arms was almost non-existent. She was so delicate, so small but the full breasts concealed within her thin garment were full and womanly as were her curving hips. He felt his groin tighten at the warmth of her pressed so closely to him.

She stared unblinking into his eyes and after a moment murmured, 'I cannot believe it. I will not.'

'You can,' he replied calmly.

She turned her face from his once more, breaking the invisible current that hummed between them and he sighed in irritation at the rebuff. He was not used to women rejecting him or turning from him -- even the human ones seemed to eye him with hot eyes, though he did not bed with them.

When he had finally gathered the courage to approach the woman he had been spying on for days, he had had to bring forth every ounce of will power not to pounce on her, not to nuzzle her skin as he wished to, the beast inside him strong and unreasonable but she had gentled the fierce desires within with her soft voice and whimsical smile. And then she had warned him to be wary of her kinsmen, complimented his beauty all before throwing him a cluster of dry, bland grains. He had turned his nose up at them as soon as she walked away from him, not wanting to offend her, and had done so again for the next few encounters when she would seek to feed him. If only he had kept his desire for her from Blaine -- kept the fact that he was scarily certain she was his mate. Then Blaine would still be alive. But Blaine had gone to her, had wanted to see for himself the girl -- his mate -- that Cedric had vowed to turn his back on. He would mate with no human, he had arrogantly announced, even though the pronouncement had caused a slashing of pain in his chest at the thought of an existence without this captivating human by his side.

'If you are a...a wolf-man then prove it.'

Cedric sighed at the goading challenge. 'Nay -- I will not pander to your whims. Believe it or not -- it shall not change the truth.'

The sound of activity beyond, of his men, seemed to bring a burst of energy to the woman in his arms for, rather than arguing with him or offering a flippant response, she said:

'You want to bed me.'

'Aye,' Cedric frowned at her, pleased he had not given away his surprise at her boldness. He slowed his pace as she curled her arms around his neck, slowly and turned body in his arms.

'How much?' she whispered.

That got him. 'Wha...'

'How much do you want to bed me? You are a handsome...man.'

'Thank you,' Cedric returned uncertainly. 'We -- we reach the group,' he nodded ahead.

'No, wait. Please.'

He stopped fully and glanced down at her in bemusement.

Tentative fingers played with the hair at his nape and he swallowed.

'Do you know how to be tender with a woman?' she asked after expelling a deep breath, her eyes clearly showing her nervousness.

'I...I can be a tender lover,' he allowed, feeling a cool sweat break out on his forehead.

'Would you be tender with me?'

No. 'Yes.'

'Set me loose.'

Cedric arched a brow at the command and slowly released his arm from beneath her legs, feeling the slender limbs brush his body as he gently lowered her to the ground.

'How much do you want to be me -- Cedric.'

My name on her lips. He shuddered and considered the flushed cheeks before him through hooded eyes. He knew this game she played and could scarcely believe in her audacity and boldness. She thought to seduce him. He almost scoffed aloud at the idea but as she bit at her lip his cocked jerk in response and there was his answer.

I want you -- I want you desperately. But that, he would not say.

*

'It would be...pleasing.'

Rowena frowned. 'Just... pleasing?'

'Aye -- for both of us,' the well-carved lines of the handsome face softened with burgeoning desire and Cedric fingered a dark curl before lifting it up to his lips, his eyes never leaving her. 'It would please me to see you wrapped in nothing but this fine hair,' he stroked the curl in his hand between finger and thumb.

It is now or never, Rowena thought determinedly, trying valiantly to keep hold of the senses he would strip from her with his heated eyes. She glanced quickly at the cylindrical shape at the front of his braies. Rowena had never before even bathed a man but she was not ignorant to the look of a nude one -- nor of an aroused one. She had seen the act of fornication many a time in her twenty years but had always been an inadvertent spectator to it. She was mortified to find that the sight of his blatant, raw maleness roused her, despite the angry voice in her head cursing him as an enemy, a man who had snatched her away from home. Not the worst of fates, the provoking voice in her head suggested. If he had wanted to hurt you, he would have by now. You do not fear him. Perhaps not in relation to the violence he might cause, she thought with a shiver as she reached out a hand and grasped his hardness. Even through the fabric of his braies she felt the heat of him. Cedric groaned above her and a resulting wetness settled between Rowena's thighs.

'You like that,' she murmured breathlessly, turning her timid exploration into a hesitant caress and in silent reply, he thrust himself into her yielding hand.

A large palm swept under the fall of her hair and as the calloused fingers started to knead her head, Rowena sighed, arching her neck and closing her eyes with a sense of ecstasy as firm lips pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her throat.

Cedric seemed to delight in her boneless surrender, becoming the dominator, pulling her hips against his.

'I must have a taste of you.'

So saying, Cedric swooped down, bending to meet her small height, and pressed his lips to her own, murmuring reassurances when she stiffened. Placing coaxing kisses on the corner of her closed lips, Cedric persisted until Rowena gave a sigh of pleasure and opened to him. He thrust his tongue boldly into her mouth.

'Sweet,' Cedric muttered. 'So sweet.'

His hand caressed her exposed throat, the fingers rough in texture but gentle in their ministrations and then he was smoothing that big palm downwards until he closed over her breast.

Rowena pulled away from him on a squeak.

'Do not fear me,' he breathed.

'I -- I do not.'

Cedric smiled slightly at the shaky announcement and then his gaze dipped and rested hungrily on her bosom. Without preamble, he deftly bent her over his arm and closed his teeth around the aching tip of her right breast and Rowena was glad of his arm bracing her for her legs had become suddenly boneless.

As this peculiar, angry -- breathtakingly handsome -- man pulled on her breast, Rowena strove hard to remember her ploy. But he was sucking at her so strongly through the fabric of her gown and the pleasure it brought to the point between her thighs was excruciating, she could think of nothing more.

'This is how much I want you,' he said hoarsely, then, turning her upright, his lips closing around her ear as he ground his stiffness into her covered mound.

Rowena pulled away, her words slurred as she spoke.

'Enough to free my brother? To let us both go?'

She closed her eyes when the hand holding her hip tightened before slipping away.

'No. You are just a woman, after all -- there are plenty beyond who would be more than happy to ease the ache you caused,' he said in cold insult. 'Innocent virgins are more trouble than they're worth -- your clumsy kisses spoke volumes, lady.'

Rowena slapped him. Pulling her hand back to inflict the same to his other cheek, she gasped when he caught her wrist in a punishing grip.

'You dare much. Your brother killed my own. Nothing you could give would be payment enough. Nothing,' the words were gritted out, Cedric's jaw flexing as he spoke. 'I do a kindness when I remind you that I am your lord now. When we return to my holding, North, you will be punished just as any insolent serf would be if you act thusly again. Keep you claws do yourself, wench.'

His eyes, previously heated, smouldering, were now clear. With mortification, Rowena knew that his lust had dissipated and so too had what little power over him she'd had.

'Your legs should have revived by now -- walk,' he ordered, nodding his head curtly in the direction of his group.

Rowena hugged her chilled body tightly and chanced a glance up at him but was presented bu his hard profile. Silently, she obeyed.

*



The Wolf's Captive Ch. 02



Hiding her intimidation from the spectators who watched her progress through the campsite proved somewhat unsuccessful judging by the feral grins, knowing grins that met her whenever she chanced a glance around but Rowena judged there to be at least a dozen men and women-- not including the wolf...men. Wolf-men. She felt light-headed at the thought. The beasts wandered about so casually and she was intensely aware of their sharp claws scraping across the earth as a few trailed behind her.

A wolf could cut open your belly with a single swipe of its nails or maul you beyond repair if he did not achieve that goal -- Bryce, one of her father's men, had been slashed in the face as a youth by the wolf he had eventually killed and he bore a grotesque six inch scar across his face for his efforts. All were taught from birth to fear the wolves for the violent, cunning creatures they were.

Following behind their leader who walked in measured strides, Rowena felt disappointment when she didn't spy her brother -- but not hopelessness. She had been around cruel, wicked men all her life to know that the man who had taken her was nothing like her father's brutish men...he was not so simple or so easy to read at least. At the same time, she wasn't so naïve as to trust him fully.

So caught in her thoughts was she, Rowena slammed straight into the stiff back that suddenly stopped before her and Cedric turned to face her. Taking hold of her, his fingers rough against the skin of her arms even through the fabric of her dress, he favoured her with a long, probing look before releasing her.

'Get inside,' he motioned towards the tent they had paused before which appeared larger than the others littering the space and her stomach tightened at the implication of it. She would share the lord's tent...

'I wish to see my brother -- will I not be bound with him?'

Lips turning down -- lips that were still slightly swollen from kissing her -- Cedric eyed her for a protracted moment, his cool, unyielding look making her squirm. 'What you wish is of no importance to me. You will not command me.'

Rowena turned away in embarrassment and met the narrow, glacial stare of a tall, winsome woman with white-blonde hair. Her arms crossed over her chest, she made for an impressive figure, adorned in a dress of deep plum with gold trim. In her coarse serfs' gown, Rowena felt rough and simple in contrast. The woman looked upon Cedric with such glowing, heated eyes -- a look of intimacy, Rowena decided -- that she felt like an unwanted intruder. His wife, perhaps. Something in her chest tightened at the thought.

'She has quite a tongue on her, my lord Cedric -- but that can be easily remedied,' a honeyed voice declared as the woman stepped closer to them.

'Leave it be, Mariah.'

Rowena threw My Lord Cedric a filthy look at his placid toned warning and he appeared thoroughly unmoved by her dislike.

'Get in the tent.'

Shaking her head, Rowena refused to be cowed by him but neither would she needlessly antagonise. She needed to assure herself of Edwin's safety and believed she was in a safe position to be bold in this way: he seemed, after all and despite the circumstances, a fair sort. Had he wanted to kill Edwin -- or hurt her -- wouldn't he have done so by now? Her rationalising gave her the courage she needed.

'My lord. Please - I merely wish to see to his welfare...he was badly beaten when I saw him last and-'

'Badly beaten?' Cedric bit out harshly and the hum of voices that had surrounded them before petered off. 'Nay, lady, not that - merely cuffed once or twice to subdue him which was nothing compared to the mutilation he inflicted on my brother's body.'

As the image of the broken body, the proud face of the wolf, flashed before her eyes, she felt grief pass over her. 'I would never have wished hurt to your brother. Please believe that if my brother had known of you kind, neither would he.'

'What is your name?'

It was said so abruptly that Rowena flinched, the instinct too ingrained from her years of abuse at her father's hand.

'Forgive me -- I did not mean to frighten,' Cedric murmured, concern showing in the way he took a small step back as if to reassure her, in the way his eyes flashed in curiosity at her reaction. 'I told you I would not hurt you. Where is the fire in your eyes I saw before? You are a strange one -- trying to seduce me to your cause one moment and antagonising me the next.'

Confused at his teasing tone -- and embarrassed that he would bring up her clumsy invitation of a few moments ago for all to hear -- Rowena uttered incredulously, 'You took me from my home and have my life in your hands -- and my brother's.'

'I did those things,' he agreed, closing the gap and gentling lifting her chin, earning a feminine gasp of outrage, no doubt from the fair-haired beauty close by. 'But you need not fear pain at my hand and I do not make oaths lightly. Your life is not in my hands -- you are free to go if you so wish it though I hope that you stay. But your brother is my prisoner now and I will do with him what I wish,' the last was delivered with icy emphasis. 'So, do you stay or do you go?'

'You mean just like that... you will allow me to flee?'

Broad shoulders lifted. 'Should you so wish it.'

And there it was. He knew she would not leave without Edwin -- and even had she been the unconscionable sort who would take the offer, without horse or money or escort to ensure her safe passage away from this unidentifiable place he had set up camp, it would be futile. She was safest right where she was and he knew it well.

'Very well, my lord,' Rowena said at last and allowed him to push her not ungently onto the pallet within the tent. With a final, brooding look, he secured the flaps and closed her in.

*

Coughing on the mouthful of chalky cheese lodged in her throat, Rowena dry swallowed and stared miserably at the fabric walls of the tent. Much time had passed since she had been secured in the tent and the only source of light was from the flicker of a fire outside. It was strangely quiet beyond and not even the hum of voices could be heard - yet she didn't feel unsafe. Not like she had back at the keep, around her father's men with their leering looks and wandering hands. Every night had been a constant source of tension...but then she had had Edwin and his presence had brought her a measure of continued comfort. Had he not been captured, he would have been set to marry Lady Sylvia mere days from now. He may still yet. Surely father will search for us? Or Edwin, at least, for her he was his heir...there was pride in those eyes when they looked upon her brother in the rare moments they were not unfocused and reddened with intoxication. With that comforting thought in mind, Rowena settled onto the pallet and prayed that her alert mind would give into the deep exhaustion of her body.

She wasn't sure how long she slept but her body protested as she was awakened, unsure of what had roused her. The tent was pitch black, the fire outside having died out. Still half asleep, Rowena felt around the ground near her head for the last bit of cheese to remove the sour taste from her mouth. She had been given the small meal some time ago by a silent boy with watchful eyes and had tried to engage him in conversation but he had merely stared at her before leaving her alone. It seemed like that had been an age ago and the urge to talk and hear noise about her was strong.

Sitting up on a groan of weariness, she stiffened and blinked at the luminous eyes bearing down on her, belatedly coming to herself. Crawling to the farthest end of the tent, Rowena found that her body was tight with indecision but little fear.

Feeling a fool, she licked her dry lips and said: 'Cedric?'

The wolf -- she could not think of him in any other way in her mind - remained utterly still, its pale eyes unblinking as it watched her.

Throwing the square of cheese still clasped in her hand at the wolf's feet, Rowena watched in bemusement as its shadowy form bent, sniffed and turned its proud head away from her offering with a snort of disgust. It approached her slowly then, closing in on her until she could feel the heat radiating from its large body.

She could deny it no longer. Those eyes...

Reaching out a slightly unsteady hand, Rowena tentatively stroked the fur at the wolf's neck, feeling reassured when it closed its eyes in a gesture of acquiescence. She continued thus for a moment, her motions becoming bolder as she reached behind its ears and rubbed the softness there. The wolf purred, its eyes rolling back in pleasure, its tongue lolling.

'Cedric,' she repeated the name with growing confidence, continuing her ministrations. 'Was it your intention to see me expire from thirst?'

Reluctant eyes appeared to focus on her and the body beneath her fingers stiffened. Rowena's hand fell away as the wolf rose to its full height -- as imposing as she remembered it on those mornings he had come to her. From her position on her knees, she had to crane her head to meet its eyes.

Motioning with its head in a very humanlike gesture, the wolf turned and shimmied out of the tent and Rowena scrambled to follow, her legs feeling numb after hours of disuse.

As she emerged, she took a moment to breathe deeply of the fresh air, to stare up at the starlit sky above before searching out the two glowing orbs of the wolf's eyes. When she approached it, the wolf turned and strode off, moving away from the silent campsite and into the forest and without a doubt, it seemed, that she would follow.

*

Clearly used to being obeyed, even in his wolf state, the beast -- Cedric -- clamped its teeth around the sleeve of her dress once his patience had worn thin with her, tugging enough to make her rise from the stream but not enough to tear the fabric. Rowena gulped down a last handful of the cool water before rising and following behind her guide and as they re-entered the campsite, she said:

'My brother -- please, let me see him. Cedric...' she knelt on the slightly wet grass and held out a hand in appeal. 'You're not unfeeling, or you would not have taken me to the stream. I suppose that was my test for you but you have been fair to me even before now. You abducted me, yes, but you didn't take me from a loving home and I think you knew this if you listened to any of my words on those mornings,' she paused. She found it easy to speak so when she didn't have his mesmerising beauty or cool eyes to intimidate her. 'I have to wonder why you didn't leave me at the keep -- why you have played me with such a gentle hand. Why you returned on those mornings to seek me out...there is something, Cedric...some compassion or feeling within you for me, I think.'

A low, ominous growl met her words but Rowena refused to yield.

'My brother is the only person I have -- he's the only one who's ever loved me. Please,' she whispered.

Her hand dropped to her thigh as the wolf turned his face away but once he reached his tent, he passed it, looked over his shoulder and carried on until he took to her to one of the many smaller tents a few feet away from his own. Once there, he ran a paw over the fabric of the entrance until a sleepy face popped out, peering out at them.

'My lord,' the boy said, becoming alert as he eyed the wolf. It was the boy who had brought her food, Rowena realised, and as his eyes fell quickly on her. 'You want to see him, then?'

'Please,' she nodded, anticipation high.

'You haven't long,' and so saying, he crawled out of the low tent and motioned her forward.

*

Edwin gave a mulish mutter of protestation as Rowena probed at his arms and legs searching for any breaks and he gasped as she moved a hand over his elbow.

'Rowena,' he said suddenly as she murmured some coaxing words and in the darkness she could see the brief glimmer of his eyes struggling to focus on her. 'You're well?

'I'm fine,' she said, finding she meant it.

'How did you find me? You came after me?' the questions were frantic.

'No, I didn't -- He -- I was taken...I was checking the wheat field as I do every morning and-'

'How many times have I told you!' Edwin cursed. 'You've always been obstinate, wilful,' he stopped suddenly and reached clumsily for her hand in the dark, squeezing it when he found it and said with a fresh urgency, 'The wolves -- Rowena, they are not what they seem! They are creatures of evil, I never believed...but God, it is true! Before my very eyes so many of them at once were men and then...'

'I know,' Rowena said soothingly as he worked himself up, feeling badly that she was almost at peace with their existence after having had time to mull over it and accept it.

'They will kill me,' Edwin murmured low. 'They said I killed one of their kin...'

'It was that wolf you slayed on your most recent hunt,' Rowena shook her head wearily. 'A wolf but not really a wolf - you know to what I refer.'

His body cringed beneath her soothing hand but he nodded.

'I do not think Cedric will kill you.'

'Cedric?' Edwin spat the name out. 'The beasts have names?'

'The leader has, yes. He seems calm-headed and I truly believe-'

'Good God, you've actually conversed with this creature!'

Glancing behind her at the closed tent-flaps, Rowena lowered her voice and said, 'Do not think to goad him -- he stands just beyond, Edwin! He took me, yea, but he has not harmed me. I did not tell you but those few mornings before you were taken, a wolf came to me as I foraged in the mornings. It was Him but I could never have thought that such creatures as he existed...he wants me in his bed, Edwin,' she whispered, glad of the darkness that hid her shame and embarrassment. 'He looks at me in this way of his...'

'It is a sin against God! They are creatures of the devil, Rowena and you talk of him as if he were some grand prince,' Edwin sneered. 'You think to whore yourself to this beast?'

'What would you have me do? Allow you to be beaten, starved - worse? What about Sylvia? She will simply think you have abandoned her when you do not turn up to your wedding for it is unlikely out father will trouble himself with sending her a message. We are moving north...who knows where they will take us? I have to try at least! Why else would he have taken me, brought me here, if not for that? I doubt he is so lacking in serfs that he would go the trouble of snatching me for that reason alone.'

'Absolutely not,' Edwin said sharply. 'We will get away from them and I will wed Sylvia and you shall join the sisters at Saint John's. I was on my way to the convent...' he said, his voice sounding vague. 'I left early to make the journey in good time when I was ambushed. Everything will turn out well; I just need time to think of a plan.'

Sighing in frustration, Rowena muttered low, 'You speak like a fool -- and I have told you many a time I have no wish to become a woman of the church. You would see me wither away in the walls of that place; you do not care that I have dreams like you do!'

'I will not discuss this again -- not here. You have the chance at an education, at a respectable life-'

'Maybe I yearn for something else -- maybe I do not care about gaining the respect of others like you. For once, I would like to live to only please myself.'

'With your wolf friend? To have him rut with you, to have him -- have him spill his devil's seed in you so that you can make more of his kind? Do not become the whore your mother was-' Edwin gave a foul curse when a hard palm connected with his already aching cheek. 'For God's sake, Rowena!' he struggled with his bound hands to grab her as she moved away.

'You swine --maybe I am a wanton deep down. But I would rather be that than a pious prig like you!' and crawling hurriedly out of the small space, closing her ears to Edwin's regretful protests, Rowena collided headfirst with the wolf who had not moved an inch since she had left him.

*

Acutely aware of the warm body curled up behind her back, Rowena, once more, inched away from it and once more the wolf closed in on her, settling himself flush against the coarse fabric of her dress. The heat he radiated was blissful but it made her uncomfortable the way he was so...placid and free with her. Wiping the last of her tears on her grubby palm, Rowena jerked upright.

'Cedric -- I would not allow you to be so familiar with me were you in your usual, insufferable form and I will not allow it now,' she announced, prodding at his middle with her foot.

Eerily light eyes watched her calmly and she felt a smile pulling at her lips. Which was insanity. Edwin had been right to berate her in frustration. Here she was, arguing and trying to reason with a wolf, for goodness sake! She would not allow his beautiful eyes to win her fondness, she would think instead of the way he had allowed that fair-haired Mariah to threaten her with the removal of her tongue, the way he had seemed almost amused by the woman's words.

'Move over,' she ordered. 'I know you can understand me.'

The wolf huffed and lowered its eyelids in a dismissive gesture and Rowena frowned at the negligent display it presented. She would not lie down on the pallet again until he moved, she vowed, locking her arms around her knees, shivering in the chilled tent. Watching the relaxed figure sprawled out before her, her eyes curious, she tried a different tact.

'My name is Rowena.'

As pale eyes became alert once more, Rowena continued carefully, 'My brother is set to wed -- her name is Lady Sylvia. I've not seen her but Edwin appears besotted. Why, I have no idea since she does not want me coming with him...Edwin has arranged for me to join a convent.'

Rowena stopped and settled on the pallet a good distance away from the wolf. She turned on her side to face him and held his unblinking stare as she continued. 'Secretly...well, not so much now that I tell you so, I am glad that you took me away from my father for he does not have much love in his heart for me. I say not much because he kept me around which must mean something...or perhaps he considered it too much an inconvenience to discard of me?' she thought on that for a moment before the slight brush of a paw against her legs startled her out of her head.

'I am glad because the thought of spending my years in a convent fills me with a deep despondency and you did say that I would serve as a serf at your dwelling, did you not? I do not think that would be a grievous existence...perhaps I could join the women in the kitchen for I have no desire to be on my knees cleaning and scrubbing. Your men and women seem a well fed lot...if not the most friendly. That Emma certainly had a good kick in her,' Rowena said dryly, rubbing at her leg in remembrance.

A rumble from the wolf made her look up and meet his eyes. White teeth flashed in the darkness and Rowena took a fortifying breath before she ploughed on.

'Cedric...I will do anything for you to show Edwin clemency. I will not disobey you or try to flee. I -- I will serve you. 'Tis the truth, you are a beautiful wolf and a handsome man -- so much so that you make my stomach twist when you set those eyes of yours on me. I tell you this because I want you to know that I will not be a limp thing, just lying there. I will accept you into my body willingly and you will not be displeased with me,' she sighed, closing her eyes, an image of his nude, strong body flashing in her mind.

She thought of the way he had looked in the early morning light, crouched so protectively over his brother's limp body when she had first come upon him. The fierceness of his eyes, the wildness of his tousled, flaxen hair and his warrior's body damp with sweat had taken her breath away. Quite literally, since she had swooned at the sight of him. Did she play with fire? Devil's seed, her brother had said and yet the thought did not repulse her as it did him. She found the fact of these wolf-people's existence a thing to marvel, not revile. Did the blood of a whore truly run strong and deep in her? She pushed the taunting thoughts aside and felt her body slacken; she was so tired but as a warm, clean smelling softness pushed into her face, jerked to full wakefulness.




The Wolf's Captive Ch. 02



A soft growl sounded close to her ear before a wet, roughness swiped at her neck.

Pushing against the heavy, unyielding body pressed close to her, Rowena said in rising panic, 'What do you do? Get away! Get away!'

And then she was cold again. The wolf had bounded to the farthest end of the tent, startled at her rising tone no doubt and a low whine sounded.

'It's alright -- you wouldn't hurt me, would you?' Rowena said shakily. 'You startled me, that's all. I must have fallen asleep...what was I saying?' she said, trying to make her tone easy and unaffected even as her heart still thudded hard in the aftermath of what her bemused mind had been a perceived to be a threat and attack.

'That I found you comely -- yes, well, you are also flippant and rude,' she pointed out. 'So let it be known that when it comes to your character, I find you significantly lacking. A good thing it is that you have a pretty face for you would never charm a woman otherwise. Not that you've charmed me...I offer myself to you because I must. Not because I want to.'

Feeling her lids droop, she continued to murmur on about his generally uncouth person before it was only the chill in the air that kept her from falling into a deep slumber. When the warm, soft body settled against her this time, she did not protest.

*

Nibbling on the salted meat that made up the breakfast fare, Rowena looked about as men and a few women disassembled the tents and loaded the two carts present with trunks and when a tall, commanding figure entered the clearing, she was hard pressed not to stare like a fool.

His sun-bleached hair damp, Cedric drew feminine eyes as he moved through the space. He did not look her way once and not for the first time this morning, she wondered whether she had imagined his coming to her last night but no -- Edwin's accusations were too raw and vivid in her mind to have been invented. A little piqued that he would ignore her so, she rose and cautiously made her way to cluster of waiting horses and spied her brother, his hands and feet tied as he sat amongst the trunks in one of the wooden carts. His mouth covered, his eyes bugged as he saw her but a light hand at her elbow caught her attention.

Standing stiffly, Cedric said, 'You will ride with me.'

Rowena's eyes stayed on his lips for a protracted moment. She could see the cleanness of his skin, the slight flush to his cheeks from his recent washing and looked away, dusting at the skirt of her gown, feeling filthy with her own lack of usual morning washing. He would not find her so alluring in the light of day she mused grimly and his attraction to her was the only thing she had of value.

'You ride with me,' Cedric repeated then gaining her attention, 'or you ride with the serfs. It is you decision,' he informed, little emotion discernible in his eyes. 'Do you understand my meaning?'

Rowena looked about quickly and flinched at the few hostile eyes pinned on her. 'Must you speak so loudly of it,' she whispered, frowning as Cedric smiled tauntingly.

'Forgive me -- I am not used to making such...bargains. Will you come to me willingly, lady, in all ways as you one-sidedly discussed last night?' he whispered, humour playing in his eyes.

'I said I would,' Rowena muttered. 'Will you let my brother go?'

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had formed. 'Nay. You have no say over that. He is my prisoner now.'

'But you will not kill him?' Rowena said quietly, placing a hand on his arm.

'I will not kill him.'

Until she'd heard the words from his lips, she had still doubted him but in his eyes shone sincerity.

Nodding, Rowena held out a hand. 'Then, let us seal our bargain.'

Cedric looked at her hand, looked at her face and then he was pressing a lingering kiss to her startled lips. When he drew away, his eyes looked almost fever-bright.

Lifting her face towards him, he said, 'I will not wait to caress you in the shadows, Rowena. You need not be ashamed of being in my bed. You will have an elevated place in my household for as long as you choose to stay there. I will replace these rags you wear with fine fabrics and you will spend your nights in nothing but pleasure. You have little to lose out of this'

For as long as I choose, Rowena thought incredulously. On the premise that he didn't tire of her first, she would choose to stay there for as long as it took to bend him to her will: until he agreed to release Edwin. He played the stern master now but she still had hope. She had seen well enough how sotted an otherwise unmovable male could become when a woman played him just right -- look at Sylvia and Edwin. Her brother was as pious and proper as they came but practically cooed whenever he spoke of that woman.

Cedric, looking down at her expectantly, nodded in approval when she held out her hand again. Taking it and leading her to a waiting horse, he made to assist her but sighed and followed the direction of her stare as she raised a hand to keep him back.

'Rest easy, your brother is well.'

She bit her lip at his angry tone. 'Must he be gagged?'

'Aye, he must,' and with that, Cedric settled his hands into the indentations of her curving waist and lifted her easily, settling her on the waiting animal.

She sat alone for a time as the last checks were made and then Cedric was hoisting himself up in front of her.

'Give me your hands,' he called, facing forward.

'I am fine.'

'Do not be a fool -- the horse will send you flying as soon as we set off. Give me your hands.'

As he pulled both of her hands around and settled them over his hard stomach, Rowena closed her eyes in mortification but soon the party was moving off and her awkwardness was forgotten as her fingers bit into the soft fabric of Cedric's linen shirt. The only times she had ridden a horse had been as a child with her brother and the unusual jerking pace of the stallion turned her stomach.

'Are you married?' she called suddenly, as a white horse swept passed them adorned with the lithe figure of the fair and beautiful Mariah who shot poison from her eyes at her.

Cedric's stomach moved under her hands.

'Nay. I treasure my freedom. I need no wife to stifle me.'

'What about sons,' Rowena scoffed. 'Every man wishes for sons. Or is that you already have a store of bastards eagerly awaiting your return?' she added.

'Not one -- I am careful where I spill my seed. You need not worry about me getting a by-blow on you, Rowena, so do not think to use that as an excuse.'

Rowena cringed at his confident assurance, thoughts of the secret mix of herbs her father's many mistresses consumed to stop themselves from becoming bellyful assailing her and her feeling of sickness increased. The rest of the journey passed by in silence as thoughts of the coming night plagued her.

*

Feeding Edwin the last piece of bread she had stolen from the food reserve, Rowena asked him whether he wished for more water and he shook his head, his expression sullen.

'Tell me,' she murmured, trying to appeal to him 'do you think our father would have been so lenient had he captured a poached, a trespasser? And I do not talk here of a murder, merely-'

'Murder!'

Rowena gave him a silent look and when he looked away, she said, 'You know I speak the truth.'

'All I know is that I need to gather my bearings and consider our escape, so leave me be and do not chew my ear off.'

'You are infuriating!'

'And you are easy to manipulate, apparently! You let that abomination of God lead you about, to touch you freely - to make a mockery of you before his people!'

Rowena threw him a guarded look, feeling hurt that he of all people should treat her so, should look upon her with such disapproval. 'He has not done me ill -- why should I act foolish and incur his wrath?'

'No, you should not act foolish,' Edwin agreed. 'You say he lusts after you and that he is fair? Well, put it to the test, Rowena. If he is fair he will not make you give yourself to him but you can soften him towards you...all we need is some food, a blade and a horse and we can flee!'

'You can barely walk! And how will the two of us make it on our own when the forests are the perfectly covering for bandits and thieves who hunger for the opportunity to ambush two fools like us?'

Turning his face from her, Edwin said between tight lips. 'Yea, I cannot walk -- and it your prince that did this to me! Do not forget that tonight when he is luring you into his bed.'

Rowena watched his hard profile for a moment, tears blurring her vision. With a sigh, she left him to stew in his bitterness.

*

Cedric straightened from his position against the thick trunk of the tree he had been resting against and held out a hand.

'Do you wish to wash?'

He took in the glazed eyes, the pink nose and the smudged looking lips as Rowena emerged from the tent her brother was confined to but he did not comment on it.

'I wasn't -- I was only-'

'Disobeying my orders -- stealing my food. You will not go to your brother again, Rowena. Do not interfere in things you do not understand,' with that said, he softened his manner towards here. 'Come,' he urged gently, frowning at her bent head as she walked beside him but kept her hand by her side.

'Are you sore from the ride?'

Her eyes met his for a moment and showed confusion at his considerate manner before she looked straight ahead again as he led the way to the stream they had settled near.

'Nay.'

He snorted at that. 'You walk like you have a poker...you walk stiffly. I have an oil with me,' he held up a hand, 'it will ease the ache.'

She nodded and as he started to undress once they reached the steady flow of water, he resisted the urge to tut when she turned her back on him, her shoulders rigid.

'Willingly, you said,' he reminded her, kicking off his boots and pushing his braies over his legs until he stood naked behind her. He frowned at his hardening length, wary of the need to be easy with her for their first coupling.

'But I spoke of bed sport, my lord -- not, not anything else.'

'Fuc -- the sport you speak of is not just confined to a bed, Rowena,' he said patiently, coming to a stop behind her and placing light hands on her shoulders, careful to keep his stiffness away from the luscious curve of her buttocks.

'It is not yet night, my lord!' she argued, trying to pull away from him but he held her fast.

'Nay,' he agreed. 'And I am glad of the fact. Do not feel shame at your body, Rowena. You are beautiful -- you were made for a man's love, not for a convent.'

'You remembered.'

At her softly spoken question he smiled. 'Yes -- as you so pettishly reminded me last night, I understand you whatever form I may be in. Turn around and face me, Rowena.'

She moved to obey but he left his hands on her narrow shoulders, watching her eyes intently as she took in the length of his chest but refused to look much lower.

Running his hands over her arms, he said, 'Come, take of these rags. They are not fit to cover your sweet body.'

'Your honeyed words seem well practised, my lord -- do they work so well on every maid you wish to tumble?'

He would not be goaded by her. He sensed her apprehension and it made him feel like a lumbering oaf, too big and rough compared to her delicateness.

'I do not wish to think at all of other maids, Rowena. Take off the dress. It is filthy.'

It earned him a scowl and he grinned. 'Off,' he repeated. 'Before I rip it off.'

'Alright -- close your eyes, my lord.'

Cedric stepped back and lowered himself to the grass, leaning back on his elbows as he peered up at her and felt his manhood stiffen to its full length under her wide-eyed gaze.

'See how it rises for you? It does not wish to be denied the pleasure of seeing your curves revealed bit by bit. I'm no fumbling boy, Rowena -- I do not play games. I wish to see you bare,' by the time he finished his speech, his voice was hoarse with want and then she was pulling at the back of her dress, her eyes focused on him as if against their will. When she stood over him in just her thin chemise, she gave him an uncertain look.

'Yes,' he encouraged, grunting when she pulled the garment up over her shapely thighs exposing the patch of dark hair between her legs and he was certain he could smell her woman's scent even from here and then at last she was bare but she held the flimsy fabric against her chest, concealing her full breasts from him.

'Come down beside me,' he urged, not wanting to scare her off by coming to her and when she dropped to her knees, he gently prized her chemise from her tight grip, his balls throbbing as he took in her stiff, honey coloured nipples.

'I am filthy, my lord -- is it your wish to bed me thusly?' her tone was tart but her eyes fixated on his nose, embarrassment plain to see.

In truth, the cool water would help ease his lust. He did not think he would win her favour by rolling on top of her and taking her with the quick, hard thrusts his body demanded.

'You are right, the idea is not appealing,' he said, rolling to his feet and moving towards the water. He decided to be magnanimous and allow her to join him unwatched and only when he heard the splash of water indicating her arrival did he turn and seek her out.

'By my garments,' he muttered, taking in her wet breasts, the chilled water having done little to stifle his passion. 'There is a cake of soap. Bring it to me.'

He was treated to the glorious view of her pert buttocks as she waded to the bank and reached out a hand. Taking her time, she made her way towards him and thrust the small cake at his chest before moving away from him, watching him as he made to run the cleansing stick over his chest.

'Turn and I will wash your hair.'

'I will do it,' she shook her head, lifting her chin primly and he had to admire her stubbornness, especially when he watched as she presented her back to him and ran her fingers through her curtain of dark, curling hair, her back arching in unconscious sensuality as she worked the soap into her mane before plunging her head beneath the steady current of water. She turned to him reluctantly, her hair now sleek and straight, her eyes looking overlarge in her heart-shaped face as she crossed a hand over her thrusting breasts.

'Pass me the soap,' he all but growled, delighting in her startled gasp when quickly grabbed hold of her outstretched arm and pulled her towards him until her hard nipples stabbed into the hair of his chest.

'Please.'

Cedric shuddered at the softly spoken appeal, pressing Rowena's wet head into his neck.

'My only desire is to please you and please you well,' he muttered, closing his eyes on a groan as he pressed his stiff length into her stomach, his tight balls nestling into her wet woman's hair.

Loosening his arms as she squirmed in his embrace, he cracked open an eye and considered her, pleased that she looked neither disgusted nor fearful.

'It -- you are very large, my lord,' she breathed.

'Cedric,' he bit out.

She nodded, her eyes holding a languid, melting look in them and he was glad that she had not noticed his harsh tone, so impatient was he for her.

'Cedric -- it is almost as long as the length of my belly as it lays against me.'

'Yes,' he agreed, his throat feeling tight.

'But-'

Brushing a thumb against her lips, he cradled her head in his palm and looked into her damp face. 'We will go well together, Rowena. I will make you ready to accept me.'

She nodded, dropping her eyes to his chest.

'Put your arms around my neck,' he gritted the last as her small hands worked their way into his wet hair and he lifted her into his arms.

'The air grows chill -- we will get dry,' he said, stepping out of the water with her in his arms, unable to resist the urge to taste a nipple, running his tongue over the hard bud until she moaned.

He wasted little time in drying them, rubbing them both down with efficient strokes before coaxingly ordering her to lay atop of his garments on her front as he worked the lightly scented oil into the soft skin of her buttocks and thighs. He persisted even as she argued that she did not require his concern and soon she was still and submissive between his palms as he massaged her soft skin until it shone in the dying light of the day.

When he gently turned her onto her back, she stared up at him with content yet questioning eyes but she made no move to rise as he placed a staying hand over her stomach. As her eyes wandered to his manhood, he moved closer to her on his knees until the tip of him pressed into her rounded hip.

The muscles beneath his hand taunted and Cedric bent low before she could protest, brushing his lips over her own, his chest tightening as she sighed into his mouth, her eyelids fluttering closed but he wanted to see her expression as he pleasured her and so brushed a thumb lightly over her lids until she looked at him askance.

He smoothed the hand resting on her stomach lower, until it rested just above her dark curls and gave a small frustrated bark of laughter as her hand tried to close over his wrist and pull him away, her fingers not meeting around the thickness which made him think of other ways in which her hand may hold him.

His patience thinning, Cedric slid his palm fully over her mound and she was so wet -- slippery and hot -- that he knew nothing else but to give in to the urgency of his cock to be sheathed in her clutching warmth.

'Rowena,' he said her name harshly, 'I will not be able to stop after this -- if you wish to dress and return to the camp tell me now.'

'No,' her voice sounded slurred to his ears but he could not be sure for his heart pounded strong and thick in his chest until he swore that even she could hear it.

'My lord...Cedric -- Cedric!'

Gritting his teeth, Cedric continuing the circling motion of two fingers over her hard, wet little bud, his eyes blurring as Rowena spread her thighs in supplication to his teasing touch.

The sight of her spread before him, her pink folds glistening with want and the scent of her need robbed him of all sense and then he was pushing her wider for him, moving between her thighs, still cognisant enough to consider that she was very likely a virgin and that he had to be considerate yet.

Holding her open between thumb and forefinger, his fingers looking blunt and ugly next to her sleek and feminine neither lips, Cedric bent low and tongued her folds, groaning into her mound at the intoxicating taste that filled his mouth. He had enjoyed women in this way before, though usually he took a woman with the swiftness his lusty body demanded and there was little time or need for such play but being between Rowena's legs now, tasting her wetness...he felt close to losing his seed to the damp grass. She was ready, he decided firmly, settling himself over her chest, bracing his arms beside her head.

'Touch me,' he ordered, arching his back when her hand rubbed at the hair of his chest.

'That was nice, Cedric,' she sighed, still half-mindless and uninhibited about feelings of shame at her abandon, the work from his tongue between her thighs having done its job.

His cock pulsed at the passion in her voice -- what a wonder she was: so free and willing to receive pleasure yet shy and tentative otherwise and he almost felt guilty. He intended to use her until his lusts diminished and hoped she didn't allow her feeling towards him to soften in that time.

'Why did you stop?'

'Stop?' he frowned, breathing heavily as her wetness coated his balls, resting tightly against her hot, moist hole.

'Did I -- displease you?'

'Displease me?' Cedric nibbled at her ear. 'Your taste had me close to spending myself,' he admitted.

'I felt something -- there was an ache and then when you -- when you kissed me down there, the ache felt warm and...better.'




The Wolf's Captive Ch. 02



'You are killing me, lady.'

Burying his face between her breasts, Cedric took a steadying breath and lay still as he felt her hands playing with his hair.

'Kissing you -- down there,' he murmured, musing that she had been close judging by her circling, jerking hips pressing her deeper into his face.

Raising himself above her once more, he said, 'I would not like to think that I had left you with an ache. Spread yourself then, lady. Let me show you all that my mouth can do.'

Kissing her throat, her arms, her nipples and down her stomach, Cedric paused at her nether hair and kissed her there, too. He eyed Rowena's clasped hands resting tightly over her stomach in his peripheral vision and grabbed them, pushing them into his hair and then he kissed her thoroughly, pulling at her lips with his teeth, sucking the folds deep into his mouth, his eyes closing in pleasure as her fingers scrapped his scalp in frustration. The taste of her sang to the beast within him, roused the sleeping wildness that fought to surface.

After a few moments of teasing her thus, he finally settled an open mouth kiss over her bud, suckling on it with a light suction, shaking off her hands that tried to push him away as she experienced her woman's pleasure for the first time, crying out above him as her body shuddered in his arms and her cream filled his mouth.

Cedric knew a flagging sense of despair as he rose up and stared down at the boneless figure spread out beneath him. Now that he had experienced her in this way, had learned her taste and scent, the wolf within him would fight hard with him to keep her, to breed with her and bind him to his side from hereon. But the wolf would not win.



The Wolf's Captive Ch. 03



Rowena watched with a sense of contented detachment as Cedric lifted his body from hers and slowly, stiffly, straightened to full height. Resting his eyes briefly on her, he abruptly looked away, and with his cool treatment, Rowena's senses returned.

Covering herself, feeling suddenly exposed and shy, she wondered fretfully what she had done to displease him. Had her response repelled him? She had behaved wantonly. But she has been at his mercy throughout...if he was to feel anger at anyone, it should be at himself, she reasoned.

Buoyed by the thought, her gaze flickered over him haughtily, running from his tousled golden hair to his hard chest as she attempted to conceal the onslaught of emotions coursing through her - but her eyes paused when they fell on his stiff malehood. Glancing quickly at his face in bemusement at the evidence of his unspent desire, she was stunned by the mounting hostility in his eyes. But he soon dismissed her. Striding rigidly towards the stream, he re-entered the water and began to wash himself with rough, jerky movements

Rising shakily as he continued his bathing, Rowena collected her garments and pulled them on in clumsily haste but her haste attempt to shield her modesty from Cedric was redundant for he hadn't once looked her way.

"What is it? What did I do?" she pierced the silence, unable to stay as stoic as he as he dressed himself and wordlessly took her by the elbow, steering her through the trees and back towards the camp.

Eyes fixed frustratedly on his stony profile as they walked, a choice insult floated on her tongue at his silence but he said tersely in belated response,

"In case you haven't noticed, Rowena, the sky has darkened - and I have left my men to set up camp alone. There are many duties to attend to yet. As pleasant as it would be to while away the eve loosing myself in your bewitching body, we cannot all be so idle," and with that curtly delivered explanation, his lips once more became a stiff, unsmiling line.

But Rowena didn't believe for a moment that that was at the crux of his foul mood. To a man who had so far been tolerant, lenient -- kind and indulgent, even -- to her up until this point, his change of demeanour perturbed her. She was, after all, completely at his mercy but more than her own hide, there was her brother's to think of.

As they approached the camp, Rowena halted, plucking nervously at her wrinkled garments and smoothing ineffectually at her untamed hair, loathe to greet knowing, judging looks that would meet them.

"Please," she called out to an impatient Cedric, "I..." but her tongue was stayed by the light, icy stare he trained upon her, a stare that held not a hint of tenderness. 

She realised then why she had never allowed herself to revel in his former attempts at friendship -- whether the attempts had been in a bid to seduce her, or to stave the conscience in his seemingly gallant character at the situation she and Edwin were in: when they reached his demesne, when the necessary conditions forcing them to be so closely in one another's company ended, she would be alone once more and bruised of heart. She wasn't sure when she had started to fall for him, but fall she had. And Cedric? As a young, handsome man of title and wealth, he would not want for feminine attention. No doubt there was a leaman (or two) eagerly waiting his return. To Rowena, Cedric was a wonder, but to Cedric, she was no more than a novelty and a convenient heart to play with. 

"Well?" Cedric arched an annoyed brow.

"If you don't mind," Rowena nodded towards the camp, pushing her depressing musings away for the moment. "I'd like a moment by myself."

Cedric's eyes ran over her dishevelled form. 

"Very well," he lifted his shoulders indifferently. "But do not linger -- there are worse creatures than my kind roaming these parts," but before he left, he gave her one final, hard stare and swore. 

Pulling her forward abruptly, he kissed her fiercely, his caressing hands almost painful in their arousing exploration. Releasing her lips, his mouth moved over her face and he muttered words of love and passion as he handled her. Delirious from the pleasure he could so quickly arouse in her, confused at his tempestuous nature, Rowena could do nothing but yield him fully, her pride be damned.

"Cedric," she muttered throatily as he pressed his face against her neck, bending over her to meet her slight height.

But her voice seemed to pull him back to himself for he stiffened and released her, his eyes fever-bright, his cheeks stained a light red.

"Do not linger," he repeated after a moment. And then he was gone.

*

Throwing another longing look towards Cedric's tent, Rowena reluctantly dragged her eyes back to the fire. Without the refuge of the thin canvas structure away from his men, she felt anxious and exposed and dared not let her eyes wander from the flames before her for she would only meet watchful eyes and an onslaught of sneering and sniggering comments. Without Cedric's championship and protection, she was completely alone. It has been two days since their trip to the stream and two days of him dismissing her completely. But the camp soon began to quieten as people sought their pallets or else disappeared into the night and Rowena shivered at the distant hum of animalistic noises beyond. She considered heading over to Edwin's miserable tiny tent but remembered his vitriolic comments of the past few days and decided against it.

She should be used to such solitude having endured a lifetime of it with only Edwin as her infrequent companion -- yet despite the logic, she couldn't help but feel a great sense of loss without Cedric's baffling interest and concern for her. He hadn't once attempted to engage her during the remainder of this evening - no sardonic comments, no coaxing smiles as had been his way before. Where usually he would be certain to ensure she was given a sizable portion of food for each meal from those who would otherwise gladly see her starve, he had simply taken his own portion of food, made his way to the fire each night, and eaten it in silence before disappearing into the thick copse for the night.

But thoughts of Cedric's formally melting smile and intense eyes were soon replaced by a greater desire for food, her belly aching with want.

"Didn't I tell you, little lady?" a smug voice suddenly intoned behind her. "I told you our lord would soon tire of the witch."

Rowena started hard at the booming laughter that followed and slowly rose from her formally hunched position before the fading fire. Two figures came to a slow stop uncomfortably close to her: the young child, Emma, and the ethereal fair-haired Mariah.

"Is it true?" Lady Emma demanded with all the arrogance of a commanding elder, her eyes narrow slits of dislike. "Has he kicked you out of his bed?"

Endeavouring to stride past them, her cheeks hot with mortification, Rowena cried out in alarm as her arm was caught in a hard grip and it was with surprise that she followed the biting fingers to the thin, fair-haired child who so loathed her.

"We aren't finished with you - have you no manners?" Emma sneered.

"Let me go -- please," Rowena fixed the girl with a firm look, frustrated that her voice shook slightly but now that the clearing had emptied and quietened, the threat her two hostile companions presented set her blood to ice. Her relief as a fourth person joined them was shameful, not least because of who it was.

"Stop causing mischief, you," Cedric called over, his expression amused, and Emma gave Rowena a final, piercing look before setting her free obediently.

"We were only talking, my lord," she lifted her shoulders casually and Cedric eyed the girl wryly before lifting his gaze to Rowena, his formally amused brow now smooth, his expression remote.

"It is late," he said at length. "Why do you linger?"

A gleeful witness to the cool exchange, Emma watched for Rowena's reaction carefully.

"Is that pallet in your brother's tent not to your comfort? I did offer you a tent to yourself."

Rowena lifted her chin. "It is fine."

Cedric nodded and gestured vaguely around the clearing. "Then I bid you goodnight. Should you need anything...I am but your humble servant," he bowed low, his lips moulding into a smile of mockery.

Emma giggled, her eyes widening in outraged satisfaction, and Cedric favoured the child with an indulgent smile, his gaze returning slowly to Rowena. The smile still plastered to his lips, his eyes were direct, unyielding. There was little humour there and she found this new mockery foreboding.

Hurt by his manner with her, Rowena held his stare for a short moment before turning stiffly, tracing the path to the small tent housing her brother.

Awakening from his slumber at her arrival, he met her with a surprised exclamation, chaffing at the rope binding his wrists. His eyes rested on the extra pallet laid out.

"Still keeping you from his bed, then?" he quipped scornfully. Clearly he would get along famously with Emma if his smarmy satisfaction was anything to go by but Rowena elected to ignore him and his quick apology, his plea for her to untie him.

Struggling to settle into a comfortable position, she stared at the oiled canvas wall as she willed sleep to claim her and Edwin soon quietened, falling into a noisy sleep himself.

The sky had lightened by the time Rowena's body finally defeated her mind and it seemed like mere moments had passed before the activity around the camp increased. Loud voices, excitable birds, the scent of roasting meat...and the urge to stay inside the tiny shelter was strong.

"So you're finally up," Edwin grumbled as she stretched and rubbed the sleep from her face, her mood deflating as reality replaced the blank pleasantness of her sleep drugged mind.

"Unless you wish to starve, I'd soften that tongue of yours, brother," Rowena snapped, irritable from both lack of sleep and hunger.

"I don't wish to be terse -- for God's sake Rowena, my skin crawls with filth and I swear I've lost all feeling in my legs. I am going mad," he whispered fiercely.

At the vulnerable tilt of his voice, Rowena said, her grudge against her brother and his insults disintegrating at his pitiful state, "We're nearing his lands, soon enough-"

"I'll be put out of my misery?" Edwin cut in, his face pinched. "Kill me now, I say!"

"Don't say that! If he meant to kill you, wouldn't he have already? You must acknowledge that he's not like most men...most would seek immediate revenge and-"

"Precisely -- he's merely delayed the inevitable. It speaks of character alright -- he's barely let that calm mask of his drop and it's...disturbing, Rowena. I've been left alone, given food, spared the wrath of his men, all at his command. We know he is not like you and I and there is something more, something quiet and watchful when he would look upon me. No anger, no fury over what I have done but something more..." he trailed off, and closed his eyes. "Be careful, Rowena. If he has tired of you, who knows what he will do with me now? You should-"

"I'll bring food," she said flatly and crawled out of the suffocating space, unable to listen to him any longer.

She was met by the sight of Cedric's handful of men and women loading up horse and cart and it was not long before the party set off. The two remaining nights it took to reach the perimeter of his hands followed in a similar manner -- where before she had never gone hungry, now she struggled to get enough scraps for both her and Edwin and she was in a near constant state of light-headedness because of it.

It was dark when they finally arrived and it was strange after days spent on horseback and nights in forests.

In the distance, sitting on top of a high hill, sat the mammoth façade that was Haverton manor, its many windows illuminated by blazing light, magnificently opulent - a stark contrast to her father's dark, decrepit abode. As the small party rode towards it, a cheer rang out in the distance and the cart she was riding on jerked harshly as the horse picked up speed.

Beside her, Edwin's eyes quickly met hers, fear and desperation plain.

Torchlight flooded the clusters of eager spectators as the finally entered through the large gate leading onto a courtyard surrounded by a number of stone buildings.

The horses were taken to the stables and the carts unloaded and when it came time to unload the last burden in the last cart, Rowena's chest tightened unbearably. Without care, Edwin was hauled from the cart by a lumbering giant of a man but he paid Rowena little mind. Struggling to follow closely behind, Rowena walked the unfamiliar path towards the entrance hall beyond, keeping her eyes lowered to her shabbily shod feet as curious eyes fell upon her and her bound, soiled brother.

The warmth that hit when she entered the great hall was of little comfort for seated at the head of a long wooden table sat Cedric -- tall, stiff, regal. Powerful. His cold eyes were for Edwin alone.

"I hear that my trusted steward has served me well in my absence but that there are a few complains and queries that would be heard -- so I have decided to hold court for a short while before the meal is served."

An appreciative mutter rang out at his words and looking about the hall, Rowena saw well-fed, well clothed men and women; sturdy, happy children, and all looked upon Cedric with reverence in their eyes.

As a succession of people chewed his ear off airing this ill or that and Edwin justly dealt with each request, Rowena almost believed that there would be a reprieve -- for tonight, at least. But it was not to be. As the serfs began to move about the hall and bring forth the evening meal, Cedric's strong voice rang out suddenly:

"Bring our guest forward, Thomas -- may I introduce to you all Edwin of Marston Let us all show him the respect he is due as the son of a Baron! The respect he is due as a murderer. I introduce to you all the man who slayed my brother."

Beside Cedric, the thin woman seated to his left who had spoken to him so fondly since his return paled and Edwin struggled in his bonds as he was dragged towards the head of the table.

"Have you any final words, Edwin of Marston?" Cedric enquired in monotone.

"I didn't know!" Edwin cried pitifully. "By God, I tell you, I did not know! About you or what your-"

Thoroughly unmoved, Cedric held up a silencing hand.

"Edwin of Marston, your punishment will be decided in due course for it is not my decision alone to make That will be all, Thomas."

"Stone him!" someone shrieked into the tense silence following the announcement as Edwin was slowly directed out of the hall, all the better for him to be subjected to the mounting hatred brewing in the air.

"Nay, feed him to the rats!" another bellowed.

"The rack, then the rats!"

As the suggestions came thick and fast and the irate crowd gained volume without a hint of order from Cedric's lips who watched the scene stoically, Rowena tried desperately and unsuccessfully to meet his eyes but she didn't waste her time on him for very long.

Stumbling to his knees as a brave young boy broke away from the serfs and other folk watching Edwin's exit from the room and kicked him hard, Edwin groaned and seemingly gave up altogether as fists and kicks rained down on him. The giant in charge of handling him, Thomas, watched the chaos with unconcerned eyes.

Struggling to make her way through the wall of bodies surrounding her brother, Rowena decided on a different tact and instead shouted out,

"They will kill him! Cedric, please!"

"You dare address our lord so, wench?" an outraged man asked ominously, his disdain for her lack of respect distracting him momentarily from causing Edwin further bodily harm.

Moving away from him and the few others who stared at her oddly, Rowena ran to Cedric's side but he merely stared straight-ahead.

Panting hard, she pleaded with him. "You promised, you said-"

"I promised you nothing," Cedric dismissed coldly.

"Who is this, Cedric?" the thin woman beside him asked, her voice wavering in distress, her face pinched at the sudden chaos that had ensued.

"No one of importance, mother-"

"Please, Cedric -- I will do anything-"

Finally eyeing her, in clipped tones he said, "You have nothing novel to offer me -- what little pleasure you hold can be purchased for a far cheaper price. You shame yourself, woman. You knew from the start his fate was not yours to be decided."

The one he addressed as mother gasped but Cedric remained ever calm, his attention once more returning to his serfs and kinsmen but frustrated at his calm manner, Rowena grabbed with biting fingers at his arm.

"You're fair and just, Cedric, you are! You know the facts surrounding Edwin's actions, surely you can understand them! They will tear him limb from limb - that is no just punishment, Cedric!" she argued, dashing fiercely at the tears on her cheeks.

Standing abruptly, his arm slipping out of her hold, Cedric watched his people for a moment longer before demanding they cease, his voice ringing out strong and sure in the cavernous space.

As Edwin was hauled from his curled position on the floor and finally removed from the hall, the excitement died down and Cedric seated himself once more. Taking a measured sip of wine, he said with calm finality, still staring calmly ahead, "You cannot prevent the inevitable, Rowena."

The measured words eradicated the last hope Rowena held for a display of clemency from Cedric. Feeling faint, Rowena stared down at him, stared at the fine texture of his skin, at the growth of beard adorning his sharply cut jaw and everything suddenly seemed too bright, too fast, too loud and it was with some surprise that she found herself sprawled across the fresh rushes covering the ground, eyeing the high ceiling above.

"Leave her, Margaret," Cedric's voiced called out as if from a great distance as a cool hand ran over heated forehead, her cheeks.

Struggling up, her limbs heavy and uncooperative people, Rowena gave into the gentle pressure on her shoulder pushing her back down. The smell of rose water drifted in the air above her, calming her considerably and closing her eyes, her body and mind weary, she revelled in the light, comforting touches.

"Margaret -- leave her be," Cedric repeated the order, his voice becoming clearer, less hazy. "She is of no concern, nothing but a whore, a village wench who joined my camp to seek greener pastures."

A ringing slap met his words and pulled her sharply from her languid state.

Scrambling to her knees, her sense of serenity long gone, Rowena stared at Cedric's reddened cheek before her alarmed eyes fell upon the person who had no doubt administered the blow.

"You lie, my lord," the regal woman standing above Rowena breathed. "Why do you lie, I wonder?"

Watching her with hard - albeit wary - eyes, Cedric remained silent.

"Here, give me your hand," the woman coaxed then, her formally icy façade melting as she looked upon Rowena. "All will be well," she promised, placing an arm about Rowena's shoulders. "Never again will you speak to or of her like that," she said then, facing Cedric with not a hint of fear or reverence.

"Do you command me, lady?" Cedric asked calmly, though bemusement still lingered in his eyes.

"Aye. I do."

"For a command to be made of me, I would hear your reasoning," Cedric returned.

But the lady ignored him and instead took Rowena by the shoulders and held her away a distance.

"Do you not know me, child?" she murmured.

In a rush of colourful memory, Rowena saw the woman who had watched her those many years ago from the edge of the forest -- the ethereal, beautiful woman who had been so constant throughout her infancy and childhood only to disappear so suddenly. The one who Rowena had half believed to be her mother, if the rumours and whisperings around the keep were to have been believed.




The Wolf's Captive Ch. 03



But the woman before her was unchanged from the one who had watched her those many years ago -- as young, as fresh. But that could not be!

Rowena shook her head in denial.

"Aye, Rowena."

"Mother?" Rowena uttered the foreign word uncertainty and shook her head again, even as something in her chest soared with rightness at the thought, the word upon her lips.

Margaret smiled a glowing, beaming smile.

"Dear heaven," Cedric's mother whispered.

But Rowena had no mind for that woman -- by no will of her own, her eyes were only first one person. Cedric. Looking upon her with a look of horror on his handsome face, he whispered hoarsely:

"Nay, it cannot be."



The Wolf's Captive Ch. 04



"Will you not come to the forest? They are mourning. They need you - their lord's guidance..."

Cedric peered across the moonlit solar, annoyed. He had left the hall in an urgent bid to find peace but still they plagued him.

"Leave me be."

But his taciturn tone, rather than deter the unwelcome guest like it would most, brought her forward until she stood before him, looking down at his slumped form in the handsomely carved chair.

"You needed time and space on our journey back to Haverton after -- after what happened. But I cannot hold my tongue any longer -- if I am to become your baroness-"

Cedric rose abruptly, looking down at the fair-haired woman with mild disgust. "Yes, if. But I have not the stomach to talk of your ambitions tonight, lady, so I suggest you remove yourself from my presence. I'll not ask again."

"It's that girl, isn't it? That murderer's slut of a sister - what sway has she over you!? For I do not for a moment believe the mutterings that arose during our journey here of her being your mate, my lord! Not for a moment. She is a human, she is weak - a nothing-"

"Then why do you question it? You are hysterical, Mariah. It doesn't suit you."

At his cold indifference to the subject, the woman calmed slightly. She watched him silently for a moment, watched as her lord walked towards the arrow slit in the wall and peered out into the dark night, having already dismissed her from thought.

While he had never given a firm answer, it had been decided in their infancy that they would wed for it was highly unlikely the two of them would ever find their mates -- such a thing being rare for their kind. Mariah was no fool with illusions that he loved or had ever loved her. She had shared his bed but so had many others. But she knew he had desired her and that lately, he had started to consider the fact of heirs and the prudency of marrying to set an example for his people.

But there was still that nagging thought that prevented her from giving into good sense and leaving him be as he had curtly ordered, especially considering the strong smell of ale on his breath which in itself was forbidding for he was not one to stupidly imbibe like most, a lesson he had learned not to follow from his late father.

"Why were we there, in Marston?"

"You know the way of roams, Mariah," Cedric's tone was suddenly weary.

Yes, she knew that they led to a random, often fruitless, path. There had been nothing in those parts but the baron's neglected keep. Still, were it not for Marston, Blaine would be alive. And that must cut at Cedric sorely for he was nothing like his cruel, unfeeling father in that he would not simply move on from the tragedy that had befallen them. He would blame himself, torture himself...indeed, it looked like he had already started.

And the girl had started to loose favour with him if his treatment of her over the past few days was anything to go by. Perhaps he would start to blame her, too. Certainly, if Mariah had anything to do with it. Which she would.

And with those bolstering thoughts in mind, she left him drowning in his misery.

*

The courtyard was empty, surprising Rowena, who had expected to find both the people who had been so abruptly dismissed from the hall and the beasts of Cedric's kind, her imagination conjuring up a wild and violent scene. Perhaps it had been the excitement and rush of the moment but it had seemed as though there had been hordes of people before vying for Edwin's blood. But the courtyard was still and quiet.

The sound of approaching feet brought her back to herself but she didn't turn and face her companion. Instead, she took off determinedly once more, striding through the moonlit courtyard.

"Rowena, wait -- please! You will not find him alone-"

"I do not require your concern -- my lady," Rowena threw over her shoulder, for she had known, somehow, that she would follow.

"You should not have left without the baron's approval," came the quiet reproof.

"If-" Cedric. She had almost said Cedric. But the woman before her watched her expectantly still, her almost-slip going unnoticed. "If the baron wished for me to stay he would surely have stopped me."

"Yes, perhaps..." but Lady Margaret looked uncertain still, troubled. "We must talk, Rowena. Please...there is so much I would say to you. Never-" she paused as Rowena finally turned, "Never had I dreamed to see you again."

"You seem one inclined to high drama, madam, for I have resided all my life in the same place you left me, less than two sennights ride from here," Rowena replied bitterly, "It would not have been such a trying task to reacquaint yourself with the child you abandoned to the father who loathes her very existence."

A pleading hand settled on her shoulder, but Rowena jerked away, closing off her heart. She had considered the woman dead. Of course, the talk at the keep had been that her father had sent her away during Rowena's youth after tiring of her but it had been idle gossip, nothing more. But she couldn't deny the strange path that had led to this reunion with her mother, the sheer impossibility of it and what it meant -- her mother, as Cedric's aunt, would surely be the same -- half woman, half wolf. She could not yet accept the woman before her. It was still too fresh. She would dwell on it later when there wasn't so much to fret over.

"I had my reasons, Rowena -- reasons that I hope that you will allow me to explain: even my own family have been in ignorance of your existence and yes, there will be explaining to be done on that end too. But it can wait. When your father exiled me, I had no one to turn to -- I could not return with you here because the old baron was cruel and he would not have tolerated a half-bred child-" she paused abruptly, seemingly aghast at her own words but she ploughed on. "We -we would have perished alone, you and I. As much as I wanted you, I couldn't be so selfish. I left you at Marston because there was no other option to ensure your safety and, believe it or not, your father was not always the unfeeling-"

"Indeed, madam, I cannot believe. I cannot conceive of how you could become whore to such a foul man!"

Rowena, sensing but uncaring she'd gone too far, would have welcomed the pain of a stinging slap.

But the older woman was better at steeling her emotions, for she continued,

"Yes -- he was married, though his wife had since fled to a convent -- and there was many a strumpet before me -- and during -- warming his bed. So, yes, I did play the whore! And despite everything, I cannot regret that for I would not have had you! Oh, I was proud and reckless, that is why I did it! Your father caught sight of me at some tourney and begged the baron -- my sister's husband -- for my hand for my parent's perished long ago and it was to him the decision fell. Of course the baron denied him. Insulted him, even, for he loathed his kind. The baron later betrothed me to a man, one of our kind of course -- a Norseman. He was old, cripplingly so, and I was foolish with ideals of romantic love and excitement and did not wish to be parted from my sister by such a great distance. Your father married, his wife bore him Edwin, and on the day I was to start my journey abroad, I ran away to the only person I knew outside of Haverton, for we women were not often allowed to mingle with those not of our kind. I went to Marston, to your father...I didn't love him. I merely loved the idea of him. And he soon changed from the gallant man I recalled..."

"What of when the baron died? Could you not have come for me then?" Rowena lifted tearful eyes to her, shamed at her weakness.

"I tried," Lady Margaret said with quiet fierceness, her own eyes appearing glazed in the moonlight. "But he guarded you meanly. I feared to anger him and kept well away -- in truth, I did not realise until it was too late quite how sorely he had treated you. Although the new baron is a fair man, the people here have old ideals over unions between your father's kind and my own."

Rowena turned away, feeling sick, her gut clenching at the memory of Cedric's raw surprise at her maternity, as the implications of what had been revealed finally began to settle now that she had a moment to think clearly - for if the woman before her was her mother and Cedric her nephew it would be a sin against God and the laws of the kingdom for there to be any relation between the two of them, their relationship falling with the last degree of the four consanguinities: first cousins. But they had already sinned. From the moment he had first laid desirous eyes on her and she had returned his lust, they had sinned.

Quickly, Rowena searched the older woman's face, desperate that she should not discover the extent of their relations. She felt unclean, ashamed. From what Lady Margaret -- for she refused to think of her as mother -- had seen so far, Cedric has treated her cruelly and with not a hint of his former attention when he had been intent on pursuing her.

But as it became evident that the older woman would not take no for an answer, Rowena wearily:

"Take me to my brother then if you insist on it," and in silence the two circled the keep until they finally came upon the gardens set at the back of the stone façade. There, Lady Margaret led the way, stopping before an archway housing a staircase leading downwards into the earth.

A guard stood stationed at the bottom, posted outside a small, low wooden door, the same man who had been tasked with dealing with Edwin in the hall. His expression was hard but he bowed before Lady Margaret respectfully.

He shook his head, denying their entry. "I am sorry, my lady-"

"Move aside at once, Thomas. Move aside now I say," Rowena's mother demanded her voice steely.

"I cannot-"

"Unless you intend to restrain me, I suggest you inform your lord of my presence here, for I am going in. I do not expect you to keep my presence here a secret. Go. Tell the baron if it will stave your conscience."

The stocky man stared at the two females uncertainly but at last he moved aside, bowing down to higher command.

*

Edwin groaned as his arms were tugged and he was hoisted upwards, but it was quite useless for his legs protested, weak from days of disuse, and he felt himself slipping into a boneless pile once more. As his cheek meet with the cold dirt floor, the impact revived him a little. Eyelids too heavy to lift, a plea for his misery to be ended trembled on his lips before dying.

Nay - he would not give in just yet. There was still that spark of hope and defiance within that spurred him on. And with that small ounce of reserve, he managed to open one eye and meet his assailants.

He looked into the darkness of the damp smelling underground pit, struggling to focus, and as a voice called his name as if from a great distance, his chest constricted.

"Rowena?" he murmured through raw, split lips.

"Get the torch - outside the doorway," a new voice commanded - knowledgeable, capable.

Cool hands found his aching face, soothing in their gentleness, but when Edwin sought their source, he did not find the concerned face of his little sister: instead, there bent a solemn faced woman over his sprawled form, the glare of approaching torchlight slowly illuminating her face.

Beauty as he had never before seen looked upon him and a defeated voice in his mind whispered that his end was near and here was the angel come to claim him, his misery finally eased by a final moment of loveliness. But he was a murderer, was he not? He had slain the beast that contained the body of a flesh and blood man; surely he was not destined for heaven?

"Dear boy, dear Edwin," the beautiful woman sighed unhappily, smoothing his hair from his brow, her gesture motherly.

"Let me," a voice declared with a hint of hostility, and then the beautiful woman was moving away, much to Edwin's distress, who held out a weak hand in supplication, pleading for her to stay, eager to feel the comforting touch once more.

"Rowena," he croaked again as his sister's face loomed above.

She cradled his head in her lap, her brow knitting in anxiety as she looked upon his wounds but it was not the same. His dazed mind yearned for the apparition -- the woman -- to return, whether she be the death angel on a quest to take him from this world or not.

"Look what they've done to you. But we must have hope - there is to be a trial, Edwin..."

If a knife-like pain would not slice through his side, he would laugh at the ridiculousness of her continued faith.

But an urgent thought occurred to him at Rowena's surprising presence by his side.

"Have you been imprisoned with me?" he asked worriedly, feeling wretched for the cruel words he had heaped upon his sister these past days. The baron. Curse the man -- or whatever he was, Edwin thought on a sneer of hatred. He had turned sister and brother against one another, had taken Rowena away from him. He had no doubt polluted her mind. If he had used his sister...but the thought went unfinished, for there was nothing he could do to avenge her honour as was his duty, not imprisoned and defenceless as he was. The defeat he felt in that moment was crippling.

"No - but I shall stay here just the same. I have no place here other than by your side."

Struggling up with Rowena's aid, Edwin braced his back against the cold stone wall, stretching his throbbing legs before him, wincing at the pain it cost him.

He shook his head irritably at his defiant sibling. "Whilst I appreciate your attempts at martyrdom," he said through a scratchy, raw throat, "I do not require it. If the baron is yet inclined towards you, I would have you safe and away from here. Leave this place if you can manage-" he abruptly ceased at the sound of approaching feet.

"It is fine," Rowena said in quiet reassurance. "She will help us."

Edwin stared at the woman who knelt before him, a cup in one hand, a pot of something in the other.

"So you have roused," she said, shooting him a mild smile, relieved. "Help him out of his shirt. I will check for breaks and cream his cuts."

"Who are you?" he said hoarsely, grabbing at her wrist when she would not reply once Rowena had removed his soiled top.

"She will help us," Rowena repeated before turning to the woman and adding flippantly, "but perhaps I speak precipitately."

"Of course not," came the flustered reply tinged with hurt, Edwin thought.

He belatedly realised he held the woman's wrist still and released her abruptly.

"I have asked for a maid to bring food and my medicine tray but she will no doubt be too afeared to venture down here -- check the archway to see if she has left it outside."

When his sister looked as though ready to argue, the woman continued briskly, "I am versed in the art of healing -- I will tend him well," and on a reluctant nod, Rowena hurried to do her bidding.

"Who are you?" Edwin persisted, his fingers clumsy as the woman handed him a cup and bade him to drink, the cold liquid a delight to his sore throat.

His physician positioned his body so that the torch placed in a sconce above his cell immersed his torso in much needed light.

Running her hands lightly over his chest and ribs, she ignored him.

"Be you the baroness?"

"I am his aunt," she said at length.

Edwin's scowl deepened in frustrated bewilderment. "Then why do you help us? For what reason-" he stopped, gritting his teeth as she touched a particularly tender area.

"Is it just bruised," she reassured.

"Why-"

"So many questions," the woman sighed as he started up again.

She worked in silence then after Edwin's persistent questions fell on deaf ears. Edwin stared at the moss covered ceiling, mindful not to cry out like a child and shame himself at the pain from her ministrations. But when he could no longer bear the silence, he reached for her hand again, demanding her attention.

She gave him a long, patient look before he let go, embarrassed.

"You do not look like your father."

He stared at her, bemused. "You know my father?"

"Knew him...you were just a boy then -- I believe you had been newly appreciated as baron Newbury's squire."

Edwin frowned, sure that he could not have forgotten such a face no matter how long ago it had been or how young he had been.

She gave him a steady look. "As I said, you were practically a babe."

He resented her words. "Well, madam, I am no longer a babe, as you can see."

Startled eyes looked up to meet his stare at his belligerent tone before looking away once more, the elegant hands suddenly clumsy as they tended him.

"And I would know why it is you are helping me. Especially after knowing that it was I who killed your nephew."

She stiffened at his blunt words but when she spoke, her voice was still soft-toned and calm. "But not with intent, knowing what he was. You know about my kind by now, I am sure. But before?"

"Of course not! God's bones, in my wildest dreams-"

She nodded. "We have kept ourselves hidden as we must. There is no possible way you should have known of our existence. But I'm afraid your ignorance changes little."

She smoothed the greasy ointment to the last of his visible bruises.

"You do not have the same mind-set as your people -- for you would not be helping me, otherwise. I believe he means to kill me pending this trial. Do I truly have any hope of walking away? They all want my blood."

The woman appeared to hesitate once she had fully tended him, lingering when he could sense her restlessness to depart.

"You talk of my people, and I think you must, by now, have a brief knowledge of who and what we are. But you must understand the events you have put in motion. Blaine...he was loved. Much loved. But you see, he was simple and vague, childlike, you could say. And that has cut us all deeply, the fact that such a sweet and vulnerable..." she shook her head, mastering the emotion in her voice, and for perhaps the first time, Edwin started to see the wolf he had killed on the hunt not just as a beast or an insignificant animal, but as a man. His chest constricted in shame and fear at the harrowing acceptance of what he had done in taking another's life: a grave sin.

But his beautiful physician continued, and he focused with difficulty on her words,

"He was also the brother-"

"Of the baron, yes, I understand," Edwin bit out.

"No. That's just it. I don't believe you do."

And her voice, her eyes - the fear in them - chilled him where nothing that had happened so far, disturbing as the past few days had been, had quite managed to.

"My people hail from an ancient race. We have our own code of honour, our own rules, different from the rules that govern King Edward's kingdom. We have our own, as you would understand it, royalty. You did not just kill the baron's brother. You killed a prince."

"The baron is of King Edward's blood?"

"The baron is our King. He is the King of our people here in England, and there are many of us settled all over. So many that it would turn your head to learn of our community, no doubt. You have been to court?"

Bemused at her change of topic, dazed at this new and horrifying knowledge she had given him, Edwin nodded vaguely, his head throbbing. "When I was younger..."

"And you had heard of Haverton. Of my nephew, before-"

"I doubt there is a man who has not - his success on the tourney circuit is legend, his place by the king's side in the Crusades before he was crowned well documented. I admit that I was even jealous of the mysterious baron of Haverton in my youth."

"It is true. He has the king's ear. As did his father before him and his before him. My family have fought beside each king for we honour the blood king of this kingdom. Just as the blood king honours us."




The Wolf's Captive Ch. 04



"You mean to say that King Edward and his court-"

"Know nothing of our existence. It would be a dangerous thing if word was ever to be spilled. Nay, he does not know but there is still an...an understanding, if you will. Perhaps, long ago, when things were cruder, darker, the old kings made a pact. But whatever happened, there is now a social understanding. We have lent the kings strength, support, wealth, and allegiance in battle over the years. What I try to tell you is that my nephew does indeed have the king's ear. The king will not interfere, no matter that you are a baron's son, no matter that the punishment and trial you receive in the next few days is unorthodox. Do you, perhaps, now begin to understand if only slightly, why you have been captured and imprisoned thusly?"

"Do you try to gently tell me that I am doomed," Edwin whispered.

"The baron is a fair man -- far, far fairer than his father ever was. I believe that if-"

She stopped abruptly and glanced behind her as heavy footsteps approached.

"Lady."

"Thomas," she said, shooting Edwin a reassuring look before coming to her feet as the burly guard who had hauled Edwin here stopped before them. "I take it my time with the prisoner has come to an end?"

The guard's rough features developed a slight flush at her flippancy. "Nay, lady, 'tis not that..." he threw Edwin a cold look. "The lady your sister has called for you."

Edwin watched as this mysterious conspirator of his gnawed at her lush lips. "I see. Very well."

"Wait," Edwin struggled feebly, his head brushing against her legs as he tried to move towards her, fearful that she would leave even while he was desperate for her to leave him to his demons, to suffer in peace.

"Filthy cur!" the guard hissed, his foot coming out to bash him in the face before his saviour cried out in censure:

"The prisoner is not to be abused, Thomas! You would do well to take up your duty and stand guard. Go, leave us."

"There is nothing more that can be done tonight. The wine I gave you before contained a mix of herbs that should help you pass a good night," and then she was moving off, out of his line of vision.

"You did not tell me," Edwin said into the darkness where she dwelt. "How it is you came to know my father. Come madam, do not leave me in suspense this night, mulling it over as I fester here awaiting my fate come the morn," he sighed, annoyed when she remained silent, no longer quite so in awe of her beauty, associating her in this moment with the pain of her past healing and the unwelcome knowledge that she had brought him of his captor's omnipotence.

At first, he thought he had merely spoken to dead air, and his lids began to droop despite themselves as he gave into his weariness. But then that soft voice floated over to him.

"Nay, I will let you think upon it. For I am certain that you already know."

And so saying, she departed, taking the air away with her, leaving the cell stifling and without hope once more.

*

"I would have a word with you."

Rowena started, her hands dropping the small garment she had been examining, an embroidered delicate blanket that had seen better days.

After lingering in the garden, waiting on the maid, the young girl had eventually approached and declared she did not know which of Lady Margaret's herb's to bring before tugging on Rowena's arm, insisting rudely that she get them herself.

Rowena had blindly obeyed, surprised and relieved to find the hall empty as she made her way above stairs to one of the few chambers the maid gestured to. Of course, she had known. She had guessed that this -- He -- may be the reason behind the maid's flimsy excuse and her heart had throbbed at the knowledge as she had walked that unfamiliar path back to the magnificent keep. It was as if conscious thought had left her as she had followed behind the maid, so eager -- desperate -- was she to see Him again. The knowledge that he had sent for her had thrilled her as much as it shamed and disgusted her.

After a steadying breath, she looked over her shoulder, peering through the darkness of the room to the open door.

"You may go, Ingrid."

The maid quickly scurried from the darkened room at the dictate, bobbing a hurried curtsey towards the doorway as she left.

Cedric appeared to hesitate at the door, the light from the hall illumining the right side of his handsome face, the left side hidden in the darkness of the chamber. It was an inscrutable mask.

"I wished a quiet moment to speak alone for I doubt there will be the need or opportunity for it again. I wanted you to know that I was in ignorance. Complete ignorance," his voice had a hard edge to it, but rang with sincerity, and she did not have to ask to what he referred.

Feeling her face warm in shame, Rowena dismissed his words with an embarrassed shake of the head.

She retrieved the tray of herbs she had come for, her hands slippery and slightly unsteady at his nearness as she approached him to leave the room, thinking the matter done.

"You are tending him."

"Do you object?" Rowena tried to search his eyes but they were closed to her.

"If I objected, you would not have been permitted to wander so freely about my demesne," Cedric declared, with all the arrogance of his status as baron and leader. Still, the show of familiar clemency and consideration that had so endeared him to her from the first almost, but not quite, softened her to him. But she was still bitter of his earlier treatment -- and of his treatment of her these past few days-- and that, coupled with her new knowledge of their relationship, kept her hardened.

As she made to leave the room, he made no effort to allow her space, and she threw him a frustrated look which he met with a veiled one of his own, holding her in place with those icy eyes alone- for try as she might to deny his pull, to walk away, Rowena found herself ensnared.

"We have committed a grave sin," she whispered the troubling thought that had been clouding her mind, but her voice sounded indistinct and vague to her ears as she revelled in his nearness, moving towards him.

"Nay -- we did not know," Cedric said vehemently, before adding with measured finality, "It does not matter for whatever there was is past. It was frivolous fancy, nothing more."

His words brought her thudding back to reality, her chest constricting as an almost unbearable pain throbbed within her. So acute the sensation that she thought she might cry out, say something foolish and touch him, to insist her take back his words.

Shaking at the perturbing inclination, at her body's resistance to obey her mind's objections, she cringed away from him in self-preservation as he took a step towards her, but he merely angled himself to allow her to pass.

"You are free to stay," he said stiffly. "For as long as you choose. Until the trial or thereafter if you so decide it. You are neither prisoner here nor serf."

She bristled at his words. "Why the change in manner? Do you perhaps feel guilt because of who my mother is?"

"Yes. The knowledge has undoubtedly changed everything."

Strangely annoyed that her goading hadn't ruffled him, she pressed, "Then to be clear, I am neither serf, nor prisoner...nor whore?"

To his credit, Cedric flinched at her words. "My intentions were marred by my anger. I wished to shield your association to your brother, lest you suffer for it-"

Rowena scoffed. "And you chose an interesting way of shielding me, marking me as strumpet, giving me the value of the very dirt beneath your feet. In fact the words rolled of your tongue quite smoothly-"

"Forgive me."

The apology rang loud and clear. She somehow doubted Cedric was a man who apologised freely, admitted his errors without demur.

"It matters not," Rowena said tersely, unable to bear his direct yet dispassionate look any longer. "There are things far greater than our meagre grudges and insignificant association at play."

After that, there was nothing more to be said for he turned and left her.

Rowena stood in the doorway for a moment, knowing that she would not linger at Haverton, no matter the ties she had here with the woman who had birthed her, for she was as unfamiliar to her as any stranger here. She would find some way to flee with Edwin - now that the two of them had a conspirator, it suddenly seemed entirely possible. The two of them would go on with their lives: Edwin would marry and she would hide herself within the walls of a convent, praying for her soiled soul - for even now when she knew the truth, now that she had been subjected to his cold indifference, she could not help but yearn for and lust desperately after the baron.