Page 77 of Midnight Conquest

He grabbed Veronique’s wrist. “Back to the camp,” hegrowled, dragging her behind him.

“This is true, Broderick, and you know it is!” Veronique struggled against his grip. “She will never love you like I do! She will hate you once she finds out what you are!”

“Enough!” he thundered, the word cracking through the dawn-stilled air. She flinched into silence, her defiance momentarily extinguished.

The horizon glowed with the first threat of sunlight.

Snarling under his breath, Broderick yanked her blouse closed and swept her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. “’Tis not the time tae argue, Veronique.”

With immortal speed, he raced her back through the trees, his boots barely touching the forest floor. Within moments, he reached the caravan, where he dropped her—none too gently—before the nearest wagon.

She landed with a gasp, scrambling to her feet, but he was already gone, vanished into the shadows.

Broderick bolted for his cave, the growing pink of the sky chasing him. He stumbled as the wave of lethargy moved through his limbs. Cursing, he dashed into the cave and ducked beneath the thick leather curtain just as the next wave shuddered through his body.

He collapsed against the furs of his bed, breath ragged, his jaw clenched.

“Foolish girl,” he muttered, rubbing a hand down his face, before darkness took him.

∞∞∞

The morning light crept into the room, soft and golden, yet to Davina, it felt like a cruel intruder, unwelcome and harsh. She rolled onto her side, the dull throb of a headache pressing against her temples, and her limbs felt leaden with exhaustion.

The previous night was a relentless battle against sleep; every time her eyelids fluttered shut, nightmares clawed their way into her consciousness. Arthur Forbes and Ian haunted her dreams, their figures looming ominously over her. She could almost feel their rough hands gripping her arms, hear their voices dripping with malice.

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She donned her house coat from the settee. “Who is it?” she asked at the door.

“Rosselyn,” her handmaid replied. “Cook made a nice tray to break your fast.”

Davina unlatched the door. Rosselyn entered, balancing a tray laden with fresh bread, cheese, and two steaming cups of tea.

“Good morning, milady,” Rosselyn said, her brow furrowing as she took one look at Davina. “Saints preserve us, you look like you’ve wrestled a demon in your sleep.”

Davina managed a weak smile, closing the door and finger combing her tangled hair out of her face. “Close enough.”

The maid set the tray down on the small table by the balcony, her hands on her hips as she studied Davina with concern. “Nightmares again?”

Davina nodded, pulling her housecoat tighter around her shoulders. “Aye. Forbes and Ian. Together. Beating me into submission. I couldn’t escape them, no matter how hard I tried.”

Rosselyn’s face darkened. She crossed the room and took Davina’s hand in hers. “You’ve been through more than most, milady. But you’re safe now. No one’s going to lay a hand on youagain.”

Davina squeezed her hand, grateful for the reassurance, though the knot of fear in her chest refused to fully loosen. “I hope you’re right, Rosselyn.”

“I might be,” Rosselyn said, her tone lightening as she strolled to the breakfast table and began buttering some bread. “You might not need to worry about Forbes after all.”

Davina blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Rosselyn cast her a sly look over her shoulder. “He left before sunrise.”

Davina’s spine straightened, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “He what?”

“Aye,” Rosselyn said, nodding. “Packed his things and rode out before the cock crowed. Your uncle wants to speak with you as soon as you’ve finished your meal.”

Davina stared at her, her heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. “Help me dress,” she said, rushing to the wardrobe.

Rosselyn frowned. “You should eat first. You’ll keel over if you don’t.”

“I’ll eat later,” Davina said firmly, already rifling through the wardrobe. “Just help me, please.”

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