How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days (The Embraced #1)

Did he have eyes in the back of his hood? She knew he couldn’t, but somehow, he seemed acutely aware of her. That alone caused the skin on her arms to prickle with goose bumps. The tone of his voice, so deep and intense, was strangely appealing. She found herself unwilling to move. As if she was waiting, anticipating … something.

He turned toward her, and his chest expanded as he took a deep breath. “You’re beautiful. I like that.”

Her heart lurched into a pounding rhythm. Who was this man? Where had she heard him before?

He strolled to the scorch mark on the whitewashed wall and touched it with a gloved hand. “What happened here?”

“I don’t know.”

He motioned to the door. “I’ll have a bolt installed. The lock isn’t enough.” With a fluid movement, he bent over and whisked a dagger from his boot.

She gasped.

He straightened. “You need not fear me. I will not harm you.”

She blinked as the familiar words clicked in her mind. “Ye—you’re the false priest who listened to my confession.”

His teeth flashed white again as he smiled. “You’re clever. I like that.”

She swallowed hard. Was he trying to kill her with compliments? At the rate her heart was hammering, he might succeed.

He tossed his dagger onto her bed. “Keep it by your pillow. Don’t hesitate to use it.”

“On you?”

Another flash of white as he smiled. “You could try.” His smile faded, and she could feel his gaze moving slowly over her. The last remnant of her fear melted away, and a different sort of sensation crept into her, making her skin tingle and her heart flutter instead of pound.

She lowered her weapons, and the movement extinguished the flame on her candle. How could he affect her like this? With just a few words and a smile, he was rendering her defenseless.

“Tatiana,” he said softly, and she swore she felt heartache in his voice. Or perhaps that was her own heart twisting, for he had called her by the wrong name.

He stepped toward her. “I promise I will do my best to never harm you.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m—” Shouts rang out in the tower, and he sighed. “I’m out of time.” He strode toward the window overlooking the wall walk. “I’ll see you again soon.”

Her jaw dropped as he climbed onto the stone windowsill. Surely he didn’t plan to jump?

More loud voices sounded outside her door. Her unconscious guards had been discovered.

The cloaked man could barely fold his tall frame into the window. He glanced back at her. “I’ll make sure you’re safe, so get some sleep.” His smile flashed again. “And if you dream, think of me.”

He jumped out.

Luciana dropped her weapons and ran to the window. His cloak rippled in the air as he swooped down. He landed, immediately rolling forward in a somersault. When he rose smoothly to his feet, his hood fell back.

She gasped. Red hair. As if he’d heard her, he looked up.

It was him. Red and black. The man on the black horse. The man in the Great Hall. The man she’d intended to keep secretly in her dreams. He had been the one who had listened to her confession.

He lifted a gloved hand and smiled.

Her heart thudded so hard, she pressed a hand to her chest. Clattering noises sounded behind her as the guards rushed in. They talked to her, but their voices didn’t register. She could only stare at the mysterious man who had invaded her room.

A guard moved beside her to peer out the window. He yelled, and the guards dashed from her room.

“Go,” she whispered, but the redheaded man was already running down the wall walk. Guards from the gatehouse battlements started toward him. Soon, she saw her guards charging from the tower.

He would be surrounded.

Suddenly he leaped over the wall. His cape flapped in the wind, then disappeared.

Luciana inhaled sharply. How could he survive such a fall? But then he was no ordinary man.

She turned and leaned her back against the wall. Her hand was still pressed against her pounding heart.

And if you dream, think of me.

She sighed. “I believe I will.”

*

“Tatiana! Are you all right? Tatiana!”

Luciana woke with a start.

Christopher’s eyes widened. “You’re alive!”

“Aye.” She sat up in bed. Sunlight was pouring into the tower room now. She must have slept several hours.

“Oh, thank the Light.” Christopher tried to bounce up onto the bed beside her, but slipped through the mattress. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I heard in the kitchens that you were dying. The servants are so upset.”

Luciana winced. “I’m sorry.”

“My mom was crying.” Christopher stuck out his bottom lip. “You should tell her you’re all right.”

“I wish I could.” Luciana hesitated, then decided the boy could handle the truth. He’d suffered much worse trauma than this. “The duke wants everyone to believe I’m at death’s door.”

Christopher blinked. “Why?”

“So the assassin who tried to kill me will leave me alone.”

“What?” Christopher’s form wavered.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine,” she reassured him. “And I’ll stay fine as long as I remain hidden.”

“Why?” Christopher’s form grew more solid. “Why would someone want to kill you?”

“The king wants the Duchy of Vindalyn, and he’s sent three assassins here to kill me and my father.”

Christopher thought for a moment. “Then the king is a bad man.”

“Yes, he is.”

“And the assassins are bad, too.”

Luciana swung her feet over the side of the bed as a thought occurred to her. She’d sent her sister to spy on the guards in the barracks. Perhaps Christopher could help, too. “Father believes one of the new priests could be an assassin.”

Christopher’s mouth fell open. “Really?”

“You could help me and the duke. If you watched the priests, you might discover which one is the bad one. You might even find proof. You could be a spy for me.”

Christopher’s eyes lit up. “A spy?” He bounced around the room, then stopped in front of her. “I haven’t been this excited in ages!”