So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)

“I didn’t realize pirates could be so tidy.” She grinned. “I thought you were planning some sort of awesome war machine, a powerful weapon that would strike terror into the hearts of yer enemies.”

“I don’t need a weapon for that. I am the weapon.”

Her breath caught. Good goddesses, he looked like a weapon. But she shouldn’t let him intimidate her. She affected a shudder. “Oh, I’m scared.”

He took a step toward her, his eyes gleaming. “You should be.”

She moved back. “Aye, the tidy pirate might capture me and wash my clothes.”

His mouth twitched. “I’d have to remove them first.”

Another flash of lightning lit the room. The air between them felt charged, as if some sort of energy was sizzling between them.

“I should be going.” She turned toward the door.

“Why do you react so badly whenever we touch?”

She halted with a jerk. “I-I don’t know what ye’re—” When he grabbed her arm, a shock went through her. A surge of grief and despair so overwhelming, it made her knees buckle.

“Brigitta! Dammit.” He swept her up in his arms.

She was in another place. A dark room. Chilly and dank. A cellar? She was trapped there with a young Rupert, trapped in his mind, living his terror. It was cold, but he didn’t dare light a fire, for someone might discover him and turn him over to the soldiers who hunted him day and night. It was dark but he didn’t dare use a candle, for someone might notice the light through the window.

So afraid. So bereft. So lonely. It made her heart ache for him.

Rupert, how did ye survive?

“Brigitta,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me.”

Her eyes flickered open. Goodness, she was lying on his bed. Had he put her here?

He was standing next to the bed, frowning. “What is it that I’m doing to you? How can I make it stop?”

“’Tis nothing. I’m fine.” She scrambled out of bed and lunged toward the door.

“You’re not fine.” He slammed a hand against the door to keep her from opening it. “Tell me!” When she didn’t answer, he planted his other hand on the door with her trapped in between. “I can touch other women without harming them, so why do—”

“Then touch them.” She turned to glare at him.

“I don’t want to.” He moved closer till their bodies were a few inches apart. “What happens when we touch? Does it cause you pain?”

She shook her head. The pain was all his.

“Look at me.”

Her eyes met his, and the intensity of his gaze took her breath away.

“I want to touch you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth for a few heated seconds before returning to her eyes. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

He was the one who was hurting. Lonely and bereft. Her heart filled with a need to comfort him, to hold him and tell the young boy inside him that he wasn’t alone.

“May I touch you?”

She nodded, then braced herself mentally for another vision. But when his fingertips stroked her cheek, she saw nothing. She stared him, surprised for a moment, then a wave of emotion hit her so hard, it flattened her against the door.

Yearning. He wanted her.

She inhaled sharply as her heart lurched into a rapid pace. This was no young boy in need of comfort. This was a powerful, grown man, and he wanted her something fierce.

His eyes narrowed. “You felt something. What was it?”

She turned her face away. “Nothing.”

“Brigitta.” His fingers skimmed down her neck to her shoulder as he leaned toward her. The tip of his nose brushed across her cheek, and she felt his warm breath and the slightest touch of his lips. He paused by her ear and whispered, “You’re lying.”

She planted her hands on his chest and pushed. He stepped back, taking her hands and moving them beneath his shirt so she was touching his bare skin. His eyes burned an amber gold, and his heart pounded against the palm of her hand.

She swallowed hard. “I’ll tell you my secrets, if ye will tell me yers.”

His mouth thinned. “I have nothing to tell.”

“Rupert.” She repeated the words he’d used. “Ye’re lying.”

He squeezed her hands. “Then we’ve both been caught.”

They stared at each other for a few sad seconds, then he released her and stepped back. “I’ll fetch a lantern and take you to the spare cabin.”

She slipped into the dark passageway and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Good goddesses, now she knew how much he wanted her. But she didn’t dare give in to her own feelings of attraction. How could she, when he didn’t trust her enough to tell her his secrets? And she didn’t trust him enough, either.

She glanced back to see him coming toward her, holding a lantern in one hand while stuffing a paper into a pocket of his breeches with the other.

“This way.” He led her down the passageway.

“I thought the spare room was supposed to be next door to us.”

“It is.” He glanced at her with a smile. “On the other side.”

“Oh.” She followed him into the second guest cabin. It was smaller than the one she and Sister Fallyn had been using. Other than the narrow bed, the only other furniture was a table and two chairs.

“I’ll leave you this.” He reached up to hang the lantern on a hook in the ceiling.

“Thank you.” The room grew quiet except for the pattering of rain against the small window. She adjusted her grip on the edges of her cloak to keep her nightgown from showing. Why wasn’t he leaving? He was scowling at the floor, seemingly lost in thought.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. Had he reconsidered and decided to divulge his secrets?

He took a deep breath. “Earlier today, when I was in Danport, I learned why your brother wants you back.”

“Oh.” Her chest tightened. By the look on Rupert’s face, the reason wasn’t good.

“I’ve been wondering all day how to break the news—”

“Is it that bad?”

With a grimace, he removed the paper from his pocket. “I’ll let you judge for yourself.”

She unfolded the sheet of paper and stood underneath the lantern to read it. A competition. Her hands trembled.

“Seven suitors vying for my hand,” she whispered.

“Seven?” Rupert took the paper and looked it over. “I don’t recall there being a number—”

“It’s coming true.” She pressed a hand against her pounding heart. Luciana’s prediction was coming true!

Rupert gave her a confused look. “What…?”

“I didn’t want this to happen!” She paced across the room. “Holy goddesses, I don’t—I can’t be a prize!” It was even worse than she had feared. The men would be competing not for her hand, but for her body.

She leaned over, gasping for air. The winner would have the right to rape her.

Rupert set the paper on the table. “I’m sure this must be upsetting—”

“You think so?” she cried. “My brother is a monster! How can he treat me like a-a…”

“Broodmare.”

A chill skittered across her bones, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

Rupert cursed under his breath. “I know it stinks. I debated whether I should even tell you—”