FOREVER KNIGHTS: #4 Battling Black Roses

Nightway Castle, Nightway

ALAZAR

Riaura fought tooth and nail as Marod yanked her to her chamber by her hair. Riaura stumbled back. Servants tossing them nervous glances.

Once in the room, Marod drew a folded belt from her skirt pocket. Letting it fall in a long leather strip. Hissing as it unraveled. She tossed Riaura, a fraction of her size, against the bedstand and brought the belt down for the first time.

Riaura fell to her knees and cowered next to the bed. Hiding her head and turning her back to Marod to shelter her face and hands. The belt bit into her back and there was immediate heat.

Riaura cried out. After the third strike she leapt to her feet and shoved past Marod to into the hallway. Choking on a sob as she fled downstairs. Marod chasing her. Whipping the belt over her shoulder and slicing Riaura’s back a fourth time. As they wound down from the higher level.

Once outside the castle walls. Marod was forced to relent the chase or have merchants in the bailey witness her insane rage.

Dress in shambles and hair flying, Riaura fisted her skirts and crossed the muddied bailey. Sobs escaping her. Splashing mud over her calves and the hem of her dress. The chill fall wind met her and bit coldly at the tears trailing her cheeks. She knew beyond the bailey walls were the gold and orange shades of Warlock Grove. Fit to go headlong over the meadow to the sanctuary of the trees, she was utterly stunned when a strong grip snagged her bicep before she could escape the bailey.

Her momentum propelled her around and slammed her into him. Feeling his strength, she knew before her gaze focused, who it was. Instinctively falling against his chest, her arms wrapping his waist.

Alazareth froze, sword shining in the afternoon light as he lowered it next to his hip. Blue eyes vivid with concern. What’s happened?

“Are you okay?” He tried not to rapid fire questions at her. As he sheathed his sword. Nodding for the man he’d been sparring with to go.

“No! Why? Why does she do it? What have I done so wrong?” Riaura sobbed.

What-why-

“Nothing. You’ve done nothing wrong.” He gripped her upper arms and set her back from him to better look at her. “What do you need? What can I do?”

“Why does she hate me?”

Only then did Alazar register blood saturated the remnants of her dress on her side. Curling out of view along her back. He spun her around.

Too much blood. He sucked a breath between his teeth, horrified at the sight of shredded yellow strips of cloth, exposing much of her tender back marred with deep cuts.

“What’s this?” He roared.

Drawing the attention of the bailey. She looked around as if it was the first time she realized her skin was visible to everyone there.

She launched back against his chest to hide her bared back from the people staring in the bailey.

He stood with arms floating, unsure what to do as all of the Bailey gave him questioning looks. This is looking more condemning. I need to get her out of here.

“Come, Riaura. Inside!” He ordered. Carefully turning her about. His fists working in white hot rage as he led her back inside the castle. “Tell me what happened!” Walking behind her, he moved in step with her to use his form to conceal her bared skin.

She purposefully walked slow enough he nearly molded her back.

Once indoors he led her to the massive Dining Hall. “What happened to you?” He asked again.

She gripped the sleeves of his tunic, near his elbows. Pressing her face to the rough fabric enshrouding his chest and sobbed. Her arms impulsively wove his waist.

Seeking comfort. He looked down at the top of her head. Arms outstretched helplessly. What do I do?

I haven’t any idea how to comfort her. He ignored the trail of tears that dampened the tunic. Desperately needing to know what’d happened to her.

Who’d do this to you?

“What happened, Riaura?” He softened his tone.

Her mother. Marod did this. His teeth ground and jaw ticked. He was nearly blind with fury as he realized.

“It was nothing. Not really. I suppose I’m being dramatic.” She sniffled so hard her nose twitched. Smearing tears away with the back of her hand. Blinking impossibly huge emerald eyes at him.

“Now you must go in and clean up. I’ll send a maid up to tend you.”

I don’t know how to tend those wounds.

When she walked away, he saw the deep cuts seeping blood marring the back of her yellow dress. And cringed.

He wanted to roar in fury. I’m going to kill the whore of Nightway…The woman calling herself queen…Contempt poured through him. As thick as molasses.