With a low growl, he released her and turned away.
Shanara stared at his back. "Reyes?"
"Go back to the keep."
"Have I displeased you?"
"Displeased me?" An anguished laugh rose in his throat. "Go from me, Shanara, now, before it is too late for both of us."
She started to reach out for him, needing to comfort him, and then lowered her arm. She didn't know what madness possessed her to let him kiss her but there could never be anything between them. He was going to kill her or her father. How could she have forgotten that?
Wrapping her arms around her waist, she ran back to the keep, grateful for the darkness that hid her tears.
She woke to the sound of shouts and harsh curses. Rising, she went to the window overlooking the courtyard. A number of men surrounded a horse. Reyes was easy to pick from the crowd. He stood head and shoulders above the others.
Curious to know what had caused such a tumult at such an early hour, she donned a robe and hurried down the stairs and out the door.
As though sensing her approach, Reyes turned to face her, his expression grim, his eyes hard.
She slowed her steps as she drew near, then came to an abrupt halt when she saw the source of the commotion. The horse she had seen from her window carried a burden on its back. She stopped, one hand covering her mouth, when she saw the headless body draped across the saddle.
She looked up at Reyes. "Who… who was he?"
"The messenger I sent to your father."
His words sent a shiver through her. Caught up in the horror of what she was seeing, she hadn't realized that Reyes had come to stand beside her.
She looked up at him. He had sent her plea for help to her father and this was her father's reply. Coldness settled over her, leaving her numb. Her father would not save her. She had known all along that he would not, yet she had clung to some small scrap of hope, and now that, too, was gone.
As he had been the first time she had seen him, Reyes was clad all in black. He had reminded her of Death on that day not so long ago. And now that her father had abandoned her, Reyes would, indeed, be her death. Because her father would not take her place, her life would be forfeit, and then there would be another war, with more death and more killing.
"How soon?" she asked, her voice a choked whisper. She didn't want to die. She wanted to live, to marry and bear children, to watch them grow, to hear their laughter and dry their tears.
He frowned at her. "How soon? How soon for what?"
"Until you… until you…"
"Speak, woman, what are you trying to say?"
"How soon until you… you take my head in exchange for his?"
Reyes blinked at her. "Is that what you think I'm going to do?"
"Are you not? You said my life would be forfeit if my father did not surrender to you."
Reyes snorted. "I may be a monster but it is not my habit to slay women or children."
She stared at him, feeling suddenly dizzy with relief.
Reyes pulled her into his arms to steady her. Had she truly thought he would take her life if her miserable cur of a father refused to surrender? Reyes knew he would as soon cut off his own hand before he raised it in violence against her. He spat into the dirt. He had known all along that Montiori would never sacrifice his own life for that of his daughter, or for any of his children. Still, he had hoped that Montiori would fall for his bluff, that some spark of fatherly devotion existed in the man. He should have known better. His bluff had failed. To his regret, the finger that his physician had amputated from the diseased hand of one of the serving women had not fooled Shanara's father.
He frowned thoughtfully, his mind forming and dismissing a dozen ploys, and then he smiled. Of course! He knew exactly how to avenge himself on his enemy. Why had he not thought of it sooner?
Shanara looked up at him, obviously confused by his sudden change of mood.
"I have a better way to avenge myself on my enemy," he remarked. "A way that cannot fail."
"You mean to go to war against him?" she asked in alarm.
"No," he said quietly. "I mean to marry his daughter."
Chapter 8
Shanara stared up at him. "And which of my father's daughters do you intend to marry, my lord?"
A slow smile curved Reyes's lips. "The one in my arms, of course."
Numbness gave way to trepidation. She could not deny that she was attracted to Reyes, or deny that the prospect of staying here, as his wife, was far more appealing than returning to her father's keep. But in the next heartbeat, trepidation turned to despair. She could not marry Reyes, could not conceive a child that would carry the same curse as its father. Not so long ago, she had been certain he would never marry.
She twisted out of his grasp. "Nay."
"Aye. You will be my bride within a fortnight."
"But why? You do not love me!"
"Your father's witch cursed me. Perhaps your father will reconsider my offer when he realizes the curse will now fall on his own kin."
"And on your own!" she exclaimed in horror. "Would you be so cruel as to condemn your own son to the kind of life you lead?"
He recoiled as if she had slapped him. Did she truly think he would get her with child, that he would condemn a son of his to the life he led? If so, so be it. Let her think what she would.
"My life is not as bad as it once was." His gaze slid over her body, his eyes dark, hot, and hungry, and filled with yearning.
"Nay!" she exclaimed. "I will not marry you. I will not allow you to use me or any son we might have to avenge yourself on my father."
"You will be my wife or my enemy," he said coldly. "The choice is yours."
She squared her shoulders, her eyes flashing defiance. "I am already your enemy!"
"Are you?" he asked.
His voice, no longer cold, was as warm and seductive as honeyed wine.
She lifted her chin defiantly. "I will take my own life rather than marry you."
"We shall see. Make whatever preparations you need. We wed in a fortnight."
And with those words ringing in her ears, he took her by the arm and led her into the keep.
Shanara paced her chamber, her mind in turmoil. She had to get away from here before it was too late. Save for the witch's curse, marriage to Reyes would have been far more appealing than returning to her father's keep, but she would not bear a child knowing that it would be cursed to run with the wolves at the full moon. How could Reyes expect it of her? How could he consider it himself?