Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
They had come for her, to take her to Lord Varrick and there was nothing she could do to stop it. A spark of anger flared in her. She was not some chattel to sell or give away and yet that was exactly what was happening to her.
“Step away from the bars!” a warrior commanded.
Fia did as ordered, knowing there was no use in defying her fate. Besides, she longed to feel the winter air on her face, walk the woods, smell the familiar scents, and relish being free of the dark, damp cell.
“Come out with your arms stretched out in front of you,” a warrior ordered.
She hesitated, hearing the clank of shackles. She disliked her hands confined in any way. It frightened her to be so vulnerable, unable to help herself or others if necessary.
Sure enough, a warrior secured shackles around her wrists and that set her heart pounding.
“Up the stairs with you,” one of the warriors ordered, the other warrior already on the stairs to take the lead.
Each step filled her with dread, her heart continuing to pound and her stomach churning. What fate awaited her? She listened, hoping for counsel from the voice that occupied her head on occasion, but it remained silent.
“You have the stench of evil on you,” the warrior following behind her spat in disgust.
She did not waste her breath on a response. It would do little good. The warriors had already judged and condemned her. She remained silent as she climbed the stairs to an uncertain future.
All eyes fell on her when she entered the Great Hall and servants rushed out of her way and avoided looking at her, fearful of what she might do to them. Delicious scents wafted in the air, and her stomach grumbled. She licked her dry lips not for the eager taste of food but for any drink she could get, not having had any since yesterday.
Fia entered a room behind the warrior in the lead and when he stepped aside her eyes caught with the formidable man standing in front of the hearth. His blue eyes suddenly latched with hers and she felt even more shackled than she already was, his glare imprisoning her tightly. His fine features should entice but instead they intimidated, keeping one at a distance.
There was no doubt to Fia that he was the legendary Highlander.
“You will go with Lord Varrick,” Newlin said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “You belong to him now.”
“I am a free woman. I belong to no one,” Fia said, and that was when a cleric, she had not noticed was there, stepped forward, and the fear that already filled her swelled like a roaring wave.
“Lord Varrick has unselfishly wed you and will do his best to beat the evil out of you. You should get on your knees and thank him for being willing to try and save your soul,” the cleric declared.
Fia shook her head. This could not be. It simply could not be. “I never agreed to wed Lord Varrick.”
“Agree or not. You are his wife,” Newlin said. “And you leave with him, never to darken Clan Strathearn land again.”
Completely confused, Fia looked to Lord Varrick, one word falling softly from her lips, “Why?”
Varrick walked over to her, and shock having frozen her, she was unable to step away from him, his powerful gait and towering height reasons alone to keep a distance from the man.
“One thing you are forbidden to do, wife, is question me,” Varrick ordered and wrinkled his nose just as Newlin had. Not only did a displeasing stench drift off her, but the grime on her face barely allowed him to see her features. “I will not tolerate such stench from her. Have her washed and in clean garments and ready to leave within the hour.” He pointed to the shackles. “Remove them!” Then he glared at his wife. “You will not like the consequences if you dare try to escape me.”
He walked past her without saying another word, and she had no words for him since the shock of hearing that the legendary Highlander was her husband truly sealed her fate. Though, it made no sense. He had come here to claim a witch not a wife. So why had he wed her?
The thought not only worried her but puzzled her as well. It lingered in her mind when led from the room, leaving her to wonder how, or if she even could, escape this unwanted marriage.
CHAPTER 3
Varrick joined his men at a table in the Great Hall, partaking in the food and drink.
“You did not look in her eyes, did you?” Argus asked, dropping down on the edge of the bench next to Varrick. “You cannot look a witch straight in the eyes. She will capture your soul.”
“There is no worry—I have no soul to capture.” Varrick speared a piece of venison with a dagger.