It was difficult to breathe with her heavy skirt covering her face. Her heart was pounding so rapidly she was certain she was going to faint. She prayed that she would faint before he defiled her.
Abruptly, his weight was gone.
She heard a horrible shriek followed by an even more horrible gurgling sound, and then silence.
Afraid to look, afraid not to, she pulled her skirt away from her face and peered into the darkness.
A huge black wolf stood over the man's body. As if sensing her watching him, the wolf lifted its head. It stared at her through midnight-blue eyes. Blood dripped from its fangs and its tongue. The man's blood.
The wolf lifted its head. A howl rent the stillness of the night and then, amid a shimmer of moonlight, the wolf's form began to change, its thick pelt undulating, changing, until the wolf was gone and a tall man stood naked before her, his long black hair awash in the light of the moon, the scar on his cheek like a ribbon of silver.
It was the last thing she remembered before slipping into unconsciousness.
When she woke again, it was morning and she was lying on his blankets back at camp with no recollection of how she had got there.
The wagons were gone. Some of the men were eating breakfast, others were saddling their horses. There was no sign of Reyes.
She sat up as the memory of what had happened the night before returned. Surely she hadn't seen what she thought she had seen! She had heard the stories of the Reyes family, how they had been cursed by a witch to run with the wolves when the moon was full, but she had never believed such ludicrous tales. Men could not transform into wolves. It was impossible… yet how else to explain what she had seen last night, when the moon was full?
"A dream," she murmured. "It was naught but a bad dream."
And even as she spoke the words, she saw Reyes striding toward her, his long black hair falling over his shoulders, his dark blue eyes fixed on her face.
She suddenly recalled that the wolf's eyes had also been blue…
"Get up, woman," he said gruffly. "We ride at once."
When he reached for her arm, she scrambled to her feet and backed away. "Touch me not!"
"I've no time for your nonsense," he said impatiently. "We're leaving."
"Please, let me go home."
"All in good time," he replied, and taking hold of her hand, he dragged her to his horse, lifted her into the saddle, and vaulted up behind her.
They traveled all that day. She was grateful, at least, that they rode at the head of the column as the horses behind them stirred great clouds of dust.
They stopped once at noon to rest and water the horses and again a few hours later. She had expected they would make camp at dusk, but night fell and there was no sign that they were going to stop.
She sagged against Reyes, too exhausted to care that he was her enemy.
She didn't remember falling asleep, but she woke abruptly, a huge castle rising before her eyes. Reyes guided his horse across a narrow stone bridge that spanned a moat, and then under a portcullis. They passed through the main gate and then they were inside the inner courtyard. Servants ran to and fro, offering water and wine to the trail-weary warriors. Youths led the warhorses into the barns to look after them. Wives and children filled the yard, welcoming their husbands and fathers home.
Reyes took Shanara by the arm and led her up a winding staircase to the first floor and into the banqueting hall. Inside, he bade her sit down at one of the tables. At any other time, she would have argued, but she was too tired to offer any resistance, and too hungry.
She watched through heavy-lidded eyes as serving women hurried into the hall, laying out trays laden with meat and vegetables and baskets of crusty brown bread. Tankards filled with ale were set on the tables.
Stomach growling, Shanara filled a trencher with food, acutely conscious of Reyes sitting at the head of the table.
The room was soon filled with hungry men. Laughter and conversation rose on all sides as the women joined their men.
With the edge taken from her hunger, Shanara looked around the hall. It was an enormous room. A dozen long trestle tables were scattered down its center. A huge fireplace took up most of one wall, with a pair of crossed swords hanging over the mantel. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, and fresh rushes covered the floor. On the walls were tapestries depicting a variety of hunting and battle scenes.
But it was Reyes who drew her attention again and again. Clad all in black, he sat alone at the head of the table absently picking at his dinner while he watched the goings-on in the hall. He smiled as his men toasted him again and again, sharing stories of his bravery in battle, telling how he had ridden into the midst of a fierce skirmish to save one of his men.
She found it curious that he sat at the head of the table without female companionship.
She had no sooner finished her meal than a young woman clad in a long gray gown appeared at her side. "Please come with me, my lady."
Shanara sent a glance in Reyes's direction, but he was paying her no attention. When the girl gave a gentle tug on the sleeve of Shanara's gown, Shanara rose and followed her from the hall.
The maid led her up a narrow winding stairway, down a long dark corridor, and into a large room where another, older woman, also clad in gray, waited.
Before she knew what was happening, Shanara found herself being undressed and urged into a large wooden tub filled with hot water. In spite of her protests that she was perfectly able to bathe herself, the women bathed her and washed her hair, then helped her out of the tub. They dried her off, anointed her with fragrant oil, wrapped a bit of toweling around her hair, then helped her into a long, loose-fitting gown of ice-blue velvet.
"Sit here, my lady," the older one said, indicating she should sit on a low stool.
Knowing it was useless to argue, Shanara did as she was told.
"Such beautiful hair," the woman said, removing the toweling. "Like auburn silk."
"Indeed," murmured her companion, a note of envy in her voice.
Shanara closed her eyes. She had always enjoyed having someone else brush her hair. The woman had gentle hands, and for a few moments, Shanara gave herself up to the luxury of being pampered, something she had sorely missed since her mother passed away.
"Will there be anything else, my lady?" the older woman asked.
"Thank you, no."
Looking pleased with themselves, the two women bowed in her direction and then left the room.
Sitting there, Shanara took a good look at her surroundings. A large bed covered with furs stood between two arched windows that overlooked the courtyard. There was a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed, a square table and two chairs in one corner. A fire burned in the raised hearth, providing the room with heat and light. Another, smaller round table held a flagon of wine, a pair of goblets, a bowl of fruit, and a platter of assorted meats and cheeses.