Protected by The Beast...

Undone by the man

Racing cross-country pursued by danger, widow Lady Ellena Swein isn’t pleased to be taken back to her father’s castle. But with his knight Sir Braeden Leofric, also known as The Beast, as her captor, she has little choice! Ellena is surprised by his honorable and protective nature, even if she shouldn’t trust him. And when all seems to conspire against them, Braeden’s secret could either extinguish the spark between them—or make it burn brighter...

ELLA MATTHEWS lives and works in beautiful South Wales. When she’s not thinking about handsome heroes she can be found walking along the coast with her husband and their two children—probably still thinking about heroes, but at least pretending to be interested in everyone else…

The Warrior Knight and the Widow is Ella Matthews’s debut title.

Look out for more books from Ella Matthews

coming soon.

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Warrior Knight and the Widow

Ella Matthews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90139-4

THE WARRIOR KNIGHT AND THE WIDOW

© 2020 Ella Matthews

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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To Matthew, Annabella and Jacob.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

As the group began to descend yet another endless hill, Ellena turned in her saddle and caught a last glimpse of her home. She could make out the flags fluttering atop the turrets of Castle Swein before it finally disappeared from view. She slowly turned around in her seat and gripped the pommel tightly. The conviction that she’d made a terrible mistake hardened in her stomach.

Ferocious-looking warriors boxed her in on every side. The solid mass of men and the clinking of their weaponry served to make her feel like a prisoner. Not one of them had so much as turned to look at her or speak to her since they had set off at dawn.

Through the wall of chain mail that surrounded her she could just make out the leader of the group and the reason she was in this uncomfortable situation. Sir Braedan Leofric. He was right-hand man to her father, the Earl of Ogmore, and known locally as ‘The Beast’. Sir Braedan had convinced her to return to her father’s estate when all reason had argued that it was a bad idea.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she’d not eaten anything since her evening meal the night before.

She nudged Awen into a faster trot. At first the animal was reluctant to pass the leading horses but Ellena persisted. Although the men wouldn’t want her to pass, her rank was higher than theirs and she was nominally in charge.

‘I don’t like riding surrounded,’ she told Braedan as she pulled up alongside him.

‘It’s for your own safety,’ he said, without turning to look at her, his dark eyes constantly roaming the upcoming countryside.

The long fingers of his left hand curled round the hilt of his sword and the sun glinted off his chain mail. His warriors were fearsome enough, but this man’s broad chest and muscled arms made him a force to be reckoned with.

Ellena shivered, despite the warming sun. She’d been foolish to think she could trust him. He’d no doubt keep her safe, but he wouldn’t tolerate her questioning his demands. She’d been in charge of her own destiny for so long it was going to be hard to lose control—even if it was only for the five days they’d have to travel together.

‘No one would be so foolish as to try and take me when I am riding with so many armed men. And I’m no use to anyone dead,’ she pointed out reasonably.

‘I don’t think Copsi needs you alive. He only needs your body. Now, get back into the centre of my men,’ he demanded. ‘Please,’ he added as an afterthought.

‘No!’ She would show this man she was not afraid of him.

Braedan gripped the front of his saddle and finally turned to look at her. A thrill ran down her spine as his dark eyes glared at her.

‘Why do you find it so difficult to obey orders?’ he ground out.

‘I’m not one of your men. You are not in any position to give me orders. In fact I would say that it was the other way around, wouldn’t you?’

Braedan’s lips twisted into a sneer, emphasising the scar that slashed through them. ‘I take orders from your father only.’

‘Well, I take orders from no one,’ she replied.

He stared at her for a long moment. She gripped her reins tightly to stop her fingers from visibly shaking.

‘Is that so?’ he asked eventually, with something akin to laughter lacing his words.

She nodded defiantly.

‘Men—fall in,’ he barked, without taking his gaze from her.

As one, his band of men rode past them to form a protective barrier once more.

If she’d been standing she’d have stamped her foot. As it was she settled for muttering curses underneath her breath. She’d allow him this victory, but she was determined to make it his last over her.

‘I didn’t know a lady knew such words,’ said Braedan, the corner of his mouth tilting slightly in what might have been the first smile she’d seen from him.

She was surprised he didn’t immediately push his way to the front, to take point again. But at least she had someone to talk to now that he was cocooned within the group. She’d settle for company even if it meant spending time with the most frustrating man she’d ever met.

‘I have brothers,’ she explained.

‘Yes, I’ve met them. I’m surprised they would swear in front of you.’

Of course he’d met them. He’d grown up as one of her father’s many trainee knights. She hadn’t noticed him then. Her days had been spent preparing for her own adulthood, when she would marry and form a good alliance for her family.

It was only later, after the fall of his family’s good name, that Braedan had arrived back at her father’s castle. She’d already left to marry Lord Swein. That had been eight years ago.

‘They’d have been whipped if my father had known about it,’ she confessed. ‘But knowing the words has come in useful over the years.’

He nodded thoughtfully.

They rode in silence for a few moments. Braedan seemed intent on the countryside once more and Ellena took the time to study him. Two scars ran across his face. A long silvery one stretched from beneath his left eye to cut through his short dark blond beard. She couldn’t see his right side, but she knew that a thicker scar ran from his ear to his jaw.

Ellena’s newest maid was frightened of his face, saying the damage made him look inhuman. Ellena didn’t understand that sentiment. To her the scars spoke of a hard life, but also a fascinating one. One very different from her own.

‘Are my scars interesting to you, my lady?’ he asked, breaking the silence that stretched between them.

Heat flooded her face. He’d seemed to be concentrating so intently on their surroundings that she hadn’t realised he was aware she was looking at him. She turned and focused attentively on the tree line far away in the distance, hoping she was hiding enough of her face to cover her blushes.

‘You’ve had a few lucky misses,’ she commented, when she could bear the silence no longer.

‘It is not luck, my lady. It’s the amount of time I’ve spent training that has saved my life on several occasions.’

She turned back to look at him. ‘If you were that good surely you could have prevented more than one person from slashing your face?’

This time his mouth erupted into a full smile and her stomach whooshed in response. She pressed her hand over the sensation. No man had ever caused that reaction—certainly not Lord Swein, nor any man since his death. She shuddered. She did not want that response to any man, let alone her father’s guard dog.

‘Perhaps you can give me some pointers, Lady Swein, being as your face is free from any blemish?’

He turned to look at her and her eyes got caught in his dark brown gaze.

‘I am not so foolish as to fight at all,’ she said, her tart words coming out far softer than she’d intended.

‘Then you are the lucky one,’ he said.

She nodded slowly and the sounds of the others around them faded away, leaving only awareness of the man riding next to her. Her heart rate increased and she pulled her gaze away with effort.

‘When will we stop for something to eat?’ she asked, her stomach growling again.

‘Soon,’ he said. ‘After the next hill is a good spot.’

She tried not to groan at the thought of traipsing up another steep incline before she could have some food.

She was determined not to appear weaker than the men who surrounded her, but some sound must have escaped her lips because he asked, ‘Are you tired, my lady?’

‘No.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘A little,’ she confessed.

Absolutely everything ached—even her little fingers. She wasn’t used to riding for long periods, but she was damned if she was going to tell him that.

She took her hand off her reins and used it to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Although they were entering the cooling season the sun was still warm, and she was beginning to regret the thick cloak she’d put on when they’d left early that morning.

‘Would you like to remove your cloak?’ Braedan asked, as if reading her mind.

She glanced across at him, expecting him to look annoyed at this sign of weakness, but instead his eyes were soft. For some reason that frightened her more than any of his steely-eyed frowns had done.

‘Do we have time to stop for that?’ she asked sarcastically.

‘No, but we can remove it as we ride.’

Before she could ask how he’d nudged his horse closer to hers, until their knees were touching. She gasped at the uninvited contact but she didn’t move away.

This close, she could see that his dark brown irises were flecked with yellow.

‘Unclip the brooch.’

‘What?’ she said stupidly.

He pointed to the fastening by her throat.

‘Unclip it and I’ll pull the cloak away from you.’

She swallowed. Here she was, becoming transfixed by the colour of his eyes, and he was trying to help her cool down.

‘I’ll take the reins while you do so,’ he said.

He leaned across and his fingertips brushed the back of her hand. She shivered as a tingle raced down her spine. Awen skittered beneath her and Ellena momentarily lost her balance. Firm fingers gripped her elbow and pushed her upright. She quickly regained her seat and shrugged him off. She could still feel the imprint of his fingers after he’d let go.

‘Thank you,’ she muttered, unable to look at him.

He didn’t comment.

She swiftly undid the clasp and he pulled the material of the cloak away from her. Without slowing down, he folded it and draped it across the back of his own horse.

‘I can—’ she began.

‘Sir,’ said Merrick, Braedan’s second-in-command. ‘There are men up ahead.’

‘Are they armed?’ called Braedan, the grip on his sword tightening.

‘I can’t say for sure.’

The intimacy of the last few minutes disappeared as if it had never been.

‘Our position is best here. If we go further down the valley we will be vulnerable,’ he said, with calm steel running through his voice.

As one, the men slowed and stopped.

Aldith, Ellena’s maid, was hustled into the centre of the men as well. The girl had gone very white and Ellena smiled at her.

‘It’s probably nothing,’ she said, but she could tell at once she hadn’t convinced her.

Ellena didn’t blame Aldith for being frightened. Only yesterday Bronwen, Ellena’s previous lady’s maid and closest companion, had been mistaken for Ellena herself and attacked. Her leg had been broken during the ordeal.

Up until that point Ellena hadn’t believed her father’s assertion that there was a threat to her life, but seeing her maid and friend lying crumpled in the dirt of a mud track had broken something inside her, and she’d agreed to return to her father’s estate—for a brief visit only.

She would inform him that she had no intention of remarrying. She would appeal to him for soldiers to be sent to her home to protect her from the men who wanted marriage with her in order to get her small but prosperous lands, some of whom were becoming more forceful in their demands.

Swein wasn’t a grand estate, compared to most but it had the advantage of sitting on a wide, shallow bay, which was ideal for making trade of highly desired goods easy. The rich soil was also fertile, and under her guidance the region had prospered, making it appealing to local landlords keen to add the area to their own estates.

She’d found offers of marriage easy to turn down, but she wouldn’t be able to protect herself if someone decided to invade. Her men weren’t as well-trained as her father’s elite warriors. All she wanted from her father was the offer of more protection.

Next to her, Aldith’s horse skittered and Ellena turned away to hide her irritation. Bronwen hadn’t been able to travel with her because of her broken leg, and now she was saddled with a woman she didn’t know well.

Ellena suspected the only reason Aldith had volunteered to come with her was because she had her eye on Merrick; she’d been sending him longing looks all morning, which Ellena had found amusing to begin with. Other than providing her with that degree of entertainment, she hadn’t been any company for Ellena so far.

From her position at the centre of the group, Ellena could only just make out the advancing men. They appeared to be at least double their own number. Her palms felt slick and she wiped them on her tunic.

Aldith whimpered quietly.

The men finally stopped a few paces away.

‘Sir Leofric,’ said the obvious leader.

‘Lord Copsi,’ was Braedan’s clipped response.

Lord Copsi didn’t look like much of a threat. His wispy beard clung in patches to a florid face and small eyes peered out over a bulbous nose. It was hard to believe that this man was her father’s greatest enemy.

The pair had been at loggerheads over land for as long as Ellena could remember. And one of the Earl of Ogmore’s most grievous insults, in Copsi’s eyes, had been to marry Ellena to Lord Swein.

As part of the marriage agreement Copsi had been forbidden to travel on Swein’s land, meaning he couldn’t easily access the sea trade routes. Even Ellena had thought the decree was a bit harsh, but the more she’d learnt about Copsi in the years after her marriage the more she’d understood her father’s position.

In earlier years Copsi had been privy to the King’s ear, advising him on matters of state. It had only been when Copsi had begun to benefit financially from a couple of suspicious deaths that he’d fallen from favour. The Earl of Ogmore had then married the King’s youngest sister, and had risen in power and influence. A situation Copsi had bitterly resented.

Ogmore’s land abutted Copsi’s in various places, and skirmishes between the two men’s soldiers had broken out several times. Ogmore was holding his position but Copsi wasn’t conceding defeat.

After Swein’s death Copsi had sent a couple of emissaries to Ellena. The hints had been subtle, but it had become clear that he was trying to broker a marriage between her and himself.

Even if she had been tempted to remarry, it would not have been to a man whose two previous wives had died in suspicious circumstances, both of them only a short twelve months after marrying him. Her first marriage had been bad enough, but at least she had survived it. She wouldn’t put herself under another man’s mercy again.

‘What are you doing in this part of the country?’ Copsi asked Braedan.

‘I’m on the Earl of Ogmore’s business,’ growled Braedan. ‘You are straying dangerously close to the border,’ he added.

Copsi ignored Braedan’s comment and let his eyes blatantly roam over the group. When he caught sight of Ellena a faint smile crossed his reptilian lips.

She shuddered and tasted bile in her throat, the thought of that mouth anywhere near her body making her feel sick. For the first time since leaving her castle she was grateful for the solid wall of warriors that surrounded her.

‘Well, it is good to see you again, Sir Braedan. I won’t keep you. I know Ogmore doesn’t like you to keep him waiting.’

Ellena was shocked by Lord Copsi’s patronising tone. Rumour had it that no one spoke to The Beast like that and expected to get away with it.

Braedan’s jaw tightened but he said nothing.

Copsi looked at him for a long moment, and then turned to his men and motioned that they should proceed.

Braedan and his men held their positions until Copsi had disappeared from sight.

‘I’m afraid we won’t be stopping to eat, Lady Swein. I want to make Nerdydd by late afternoon,’ said Braedan.

‘But...that wasn’t that threatening,’ said Ellena, dismayed at the thought of having to continue riding until they reached the first stop on their destination. Copsi might have a bad reputation, but he looked as if a strong breeze would push him over.

‘We have some men in Copsi’s court who are loyal to your father,’ said Braedan as he nudged his horse into action. ‘They have reported that he has become increasingly obsessed by the thought of making you his wife. It would serve the double purpose of disrespecting your father and getting hold of Swein’s land. We had hoped to take you to Ogmore before he was aware of it, but he obviously has spies of his own in your father’s court. He will now be determined to take you before you reach your father’s lands. Today’s meeting was about checking how much manpower we have. We would be foolish to underestimate him. Come—we must ride quickly.’

Ellena’s muscles protested as the horses fell into a steady trot, but she didn’t argue against Braedan’s point despite her growling stomach. The quicker she returned to Ogmore, the quicker she could convince her father that there was no need for her to marry again. She was content at Castle Swein and she had no intention of being married off.

She shuddered, despite the warmth of the day. Her marriage had been the stuff of nightmares. She would not enter into such a union again—especially not with Lord Copsi, a man who reminded her too much of her vile late husband.

Chapter Two

Braedan would have preferred to camp outside in the woods, where the acrid smell of spilt ale and the relentless babble of strangers would be replaced by the soothing sound of the wind whispering through branches. But as his latest mission meant he was charged with the safe return of his liege’s only daughter, he could hardly expect the gently born lady to camp under the stars.

Besides, it was unlikely that Lord Copsi would mount an assault here. There were too many people around. He would wait until they were camped out—which they would have to do at least once before they reached the safety of Ogmore Castle. Braedan was sure they would find trouble at that point.

He took a long draught of ale and was surprised by its fruity tanginess. A serving maid appeared by his right elbow to top up his tankard. She’d been sending him smiles all evening, causing his men to smirk and make ribald comments, but he had no intention of taking her up on what she was clearly offering.

He covered the top of his cup with a hand and shook his head. He needed to stay alert, and drinking too much ale wouldn’t help.

He downed the rest of his drink and dropped the tankard on the table as he stood. He’d make another circuit of the grounds and check for any signs of Copsi and his men.

He strode out of the tavern, ignoring the plaintive face of the maid. He’d made no indication that he might return her interest, and he doubted she had any real desire to bed him anyway. He might have been passably attractive when he was younger, but years of campaigning for Ogmore’s interests had left his face disfigured and he knew that he repelled most people.

Even his own mother struggled to look him in the eye any more—but that might not be solely down to the scars covering his face and have more to do with her disappointment over the way life had turned out for their family. She was not living the way she would have expected when she’d married his father, an eminent and wealthy landowner.

If women showed him any interest he knew it was his reputation as The Beast that drew them to him, and he’d long since tired of achieving pleasure on that basis.

The tavern door closed sharply behind him and the sounds were immediately muted. He breathed a sigh of relief and stepped away from the inn. A fine mist coated his hair and beard and he turned his face to the heavens, relieved to be outdoors once again.

The sun had set and the streets of Nerdydd were quiet and cool. A lone man scurried past, his head bent and his cloak wrapped tightly around him. Braedan watched him as he made his way down the street but he didn’t once turn towards the inn so he was probably harmless.

Even so, Braedan kept a tight grip on the hilt of his sword as he slowly made his way around the inn. At the side he glanced up at the window he knew to be Ellena’s chamber. The shutters were tightly clamped together but he thought he could just make out the flicker of a candle burning somewhere deep inside the room. He wondered fleetingly whether she had finally shed the veil that covered her hair; he was almost desperate to know whether it was the same dark colour as her long eyelashes.

He pushed the thought aside.

His job was to make sure she arrived back at her father’s estate in one piece. He should not be thinking about how beautiful she looked, even when she was fixing him with that haughty gaze she used whenever she wanted to put him in his place.

Thoughts of trailing his fingers over the soft skin of her neck kept pushing into his mind when he was least expecting it. It was irritating, because not only was she above his touch but she was also the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. He’d prefer not to think of her at all.

He was returning her to her father so that the Earl could find her a suitable husband and keep her away from his sworn enemy, Copsi. It was nothing to do with Braedan who she married—although he was glad it wouldn’t be Copsi.

His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword and he thought of her horrified expression when he’d told her that Copsi was determined to wed her before she reached her father’s fortress. Copsi was a man no woman should be subjected to. Braedan’s spies in Copsi’s court revealed a man who took pleasure in tormenting women. He thought women existed solely to give him pleasure, and thought nothing of taking a woman against her will.

Braedan would fight tooth and nail to make sure that Ellena stayed out of Copsi’s hands while she was in his care. And once she was married to someone else she would cease to be of use to Copsi, who would turn his attention to some other poor woman.

He hoped for Ellena’s sake that the Earl of Ogmore would choose someone who matched her in intelligence and strength. Almost anyone other than Copsi would be a better partner for the elegant Lady Swein, whose light blue eyes watched him with a mixture of regal disdain and intelligent understanding.

The one emotion he’d never seen cross her face was fear. Unlike most people, she wasn’t afraid of him. Yet.

Braedan smiled. Ellena had made no secret of her desire to remain widowed. But the fact that his wilful daughter didn’t want to marry again wouldn’t matter to a man like Ogmore, who was keen to spread his influence across the country and not averse to using his family members to achieve his aims.

He would like to be a fly on the wall when father and daughter met again. Both were as stubborn as each other, although he was fairly confident Ogmore would win in the end. He usually did.

It was nothing to do with him whether or not she remarried.

Braedan knew he was a bully for taking her away from her home, but she had to remarry anyway, and a new husband would allow her to have children of her own. What woman didn’t want that? And there were plenty of contenders for Ellena’s hand. Many men wanted to form an alliance with her influential father, and marriage to his daughter was one of the best ways to secure his protection.

The most likely contender was the Earl of Borwyn, whose land was close to Ogmore’s. He was reportedly a decent and handsome man.

Braedan’s fists curled as the urge to punch someone rushed over him. He took a deep breath and loosened them—what was wrong with him?

The stables were at the back of the inn and he made his way towards them. He would check that Stoirm was settled for the night before turning in himself. He had scheduled his watch for the early hours of the morning. He found it hard to sleep for more than five hours anyway, and he preferred to be busy rather than just lying there remembering all the people who depended on him and were now waiting for him to let them down—as his father had done before him.

Soft, whispered noises were coming from deep within the stables. He paused on the threshold and tilted his head, listening.

A grunt which sounded suspiciously like Merrick reached his ears, followed by a soft, feminine moan, and he smiled ruefully. Perhaps the barmaid had persuaded his friend to sample her delights.

From his vantage point at the stable entrance he could see that Stoirm was contentedly munching through the hay provided for him, and that was enough for him. He’d leave without intruding.

He quietly stepped backwards, so as not to disturb the lovers, but before he could go much further the woman giggled.

He knew that sound. It was Ellena’s tiresome maid—the one who had been making eyes at his second-in-command all day.

If she wasn’t with Lady Swein then Ellena was all alone.

Someone was supposed to be with her constantly.

He raced back to the inn and practically ran over a stable boy who got in his way.

The two guards he’d stationed outside her room were still there.

‘Has anyone been in or out of this room?’ he demanded.

‘No, sir,’ they both replied as one.

Without pausing to knock, he pushed open the door and strode inside.

There was a squeal and a flurry of bedclothes as the door slammed shut behind him.

‘What...?’ spluttered Ellena as she struggled to untangle herself from the bedcovers.

Braedan stood frozen in the centre of the room. He’d been right about Ellena’s hair. It was a rich chestnut colour and her locks fell in waves loosely around her face and down to her navel.

His eyes followed the tresses and he realised she was wearing only a white chemise. Although this was tied up to her neck, he could still make out the curves of her figure beneath it.

‘What are you doing barging into my chamber?’ she demanded.

Heat flooded his face as he realised he was staring at her like some sort of young page who was seeing a woman other than his mother for the first time.

He cleared his throat. ‘Aldith isn’t with you. Anyone could have barged in here and taken you. Why were you so foolish as to let her go?’

She frowned, and he fought the urge to rub the crease away with his thumb.

‘You have men guarding my chamber and the shutters are locked from the inside. What on earth did you think would happen?’

‘You are not meant to be left alone,’ he repeated stubbornly.

Why must she always question what he said or did? His men obeyed him out of loyalty and others did so out of fear. But she never backed down from him. Her response was both an annoyance and a thrill.

She threw back the covers and slipped from the bed. For a moment he was treated to a glimpse of a slim, pale ankle before she dragged on her long cloak, robbing him of any sight of her skin.

He tried hard not to feel disappointed.

‘I’ll be honest,’ said Ellena. ‘I was quite happy for Aldith to go out for a bit and enjoy some company in the tavern. We don’t have much in common, and after five minutes of talking to her I realised that I should have chosen anyone else in the castle to accompany me on this journey. I was enjoying spending some time on my own.’

‘It is not the company in the taproom she is enjoying,’ said Braedan.

He didn’t know why he had said that. It wasn’t right to talk about pleasures of the flesh in front of gently bred ladies, and it would have been kinder to everyone if he’d let Ellena carry on believing Aldith was sharing a cup of ale with the men downstairs.

‘What do you...? Oh, I see.’

A pink blush stole across her high cheekbones and Braedan took an involuntary step towards her. She didn’t seem to notice, and he managed to halt himself from moving any further before he did something inappropriate.

As the daughter of an eminent earl, and niece to the King himself, she was so far above his touch that to reach out to her would surely be his downfall in more ways than one. Besides, he had enough dependants relying on him. He didn’t want or need another one.

And even if neither of those problems existed he was pretty sure she couldn’t stand the sight of him—and for once it was nothing to do with his many scars. She didn’t like taking orders and she seemed to think she had the right to give orders to him.

He supposed he didn’t blame her—despite his irritation at her refusal to take his instructions seriously. He’d taken her from a comfortable existence at Castle Swein and thrust her into a dangerous situation with an unknown outcome.

‘Do you think she’ll be long?’ Ellena asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He chuckled in spite of himself. ‘I guess that depends on Merrick’s stamina.’

She turned an even deeper shade of red and turned slightly away from him.

He realised he could see her toes peeking out from under the hem of her chemise and his gaze became locked on that tiny piece of skin. He wanted to slide his hand along the length of her foot and let it continue further up her long legs...

‘I don’t understand why she’d bother,’ was her unexpected response.

Braedan felt his own skin begin to burn with embarrassment—or perhaps it was the overwhelming lust that had hit him out of nowhere. He wasn’t sure.

He opened his mouth to respond, but then clamped it firmly shut before he could say any more to offend her. It would be best for him to wish her goodnight and leave. But for some reason his feet were refusing to obey his mind’s orders and they stayed exactly where they were.

She’d inadvertently revealed something of her marriage that perhaps it would have been better if he hadn’t known. She hadn’t enjoyed intimate relations with her husband.

That wasn’t entirely surprising. The man had been thirty-four years older than her when she’d married him at sixteen. No young woman would enjoy lying with a man older than her father. But that could not have been the whole reason. The revulsion on her face spoke of experiences worse than just lying with a man she didn’t find attractive.

He clenched his fists to stop himself from taking those final steps towards her and showing her exactly why Merrick and Aldith had taken themselves off to the stables.

As if finally realising what she’d revealed, he saw her back stiffen and her neck lengthen as she stood taller and gave him the regal look she always used when she wanted to remind him of her status.

‘When you return downstairs please ask someone to send up some warm water. I asked Aldith to fetch it, but it appears she has forgotten.’

And that put him in his place.

Here he was, imagining running his fingers through her thick hair and over other parts of her body, and she was treating him like the errand boy she clearly thought he was.

‘I’ll see it’s done and I’ll return Aldith to you,’ he growled.

She pulled a face of displeasure before masking it under a cool nod.

He left without saying another word.

Pulling the door firmly shut behind him he glared at her two guards. ‘Do not let Aldith leave her alone again. Not even for Merrick,’ he barked at them.

The two men had the grace to look shamefaced.

He stomped back downstairs and found someone to take warm water up to Ellena. Then he went in search of his friend.

But tearing a strip off Merrick for following his cock instead of his training still didn’t make him feel any better, and it took a while for sleep to come to him that night.

Chapter Three

Ellena didn’t know what was worse: the pain in all her muscles or the damp, soggy weight of her hair, which was causing water to soak through her cloak and freeze her to the bone.

After three days of riding this was the first night they were going to sleep in tents, and the weather couldn’t have been worse. A fine mist this morning had turned into a downpour as the afternoon had dragged on. She began to long for a pair of shears to hack the weight of her waterlogged hair off.

As a child, she’d waited impatiently over many summers before her hair had reached the coveted waist length. Whenever she had been allowed to, she had unplaited her hair and revelled in running her fingers through the rich strands, loving the way the sunlight picked out the different shades.

She hadn’t done that in years.

After her marriage her hair had been another way in which her husband could hurt her, using its thickness to pull her about whenever she displeased him. Before illness had taken over his life she’d displeased him almost every day. Her failure to get pregnant had been the worst of her transgressions, and his increasingly violent efforts to make her so had given her a desperate fear of the marriage bed.

Using her hair to drag her to his bedchamber had been one of his most humiliating punishments. After his death she’d tried hard to find joy in its thick length again, but the urge to cut it all off still pulled at her every now and again.

The horses squelched through rivers of mud as they followed Braedan through a densely packed forest. Ellena frowned at his broad back, the hard muscles encased in chain mail. Since he’d barged in and out of her room three nights ago they’d barely exchanged a word. She’d heard him yelling at his man Merrick and at Aldith before Aldith had slunk back into the chamber they’d shared, but apart from some sullenness on Aldith’s part the incident might never have happened.

After an interminably long time they finally reached a patch of land, surrounded by trees on all sides, that appeared to meet Braedan’s satisfaction and the horses pulled to a stop. Ellena allowed her body to slide off Awen, rejoicing when her feet hit the floor with a thud. For a long moment she clung to the side of her horse, allowing the animal to keep her upright.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the hot bath that would be awaiting her at her father’s castle in only five days’ time, but ice-cold rain dripped down her face and seeped beneath her clothes, chasing the fantasy away and making her shiver.

The sounds of men moving about gradually penetrated her musings and she opened her eyes to see everyone busy at work. Everyone, that was, apart from herself and Aldith. Aldith was still sitting atop her horse, surveying the scene before her, her lips twisted into a grimace of horror.

Ellena looked around. They were sheltered by the trees but the ground was still a boggy mess. It was not going to be a comfortable night’s sleep.

Aldith had barely spoken to her apart from the occasional, ‘Yes, my lady,’ since the unfortunate incident of Merrick and the stable, so she didn’t bother to address the maid. She wouldn’t be a great deal of help in this situation anyway—it was an experience outside their usually comfortable living standards—but at least Ellena was willing to try and improve their situation. Aldith would wait until somebody helped her.

It wasn’t Ellena’s fault that Braedan had been so monumentally angry at her being left alone for a brief period. She’d heard the row he’d given the two lovers through her shuttered window—although why he hadn’t yelled at them before he came to check her room was beyond her. Surely he could have sent Aldith up to her and spared them both that embarrassing scene? She’d practically discussed her sexual relationship with Lord Swein and for the life of her she couldn’t fathom why she’d done it.

There was something about Braedan’s dark eyes that drew her in and made her say things she wouldn’t say to another person. But really—what had made her talk to him about intimate relations with her late husband when that was something she was very keen to avoid thinking about at all costs? The humiliation and the pain were things she never wanted to revisit.

She wished she could take back the comment she’d made about sex not being worth the effort. He’d probably thought her ridiculous.

She gave herself a little shake. It didn’t matter right now. All that concerned her was getting out of the relentless deluge of water. She led Awen over to the rough shelter where the other horses were gathering. She made sure the mare had her share of oats before leaving her in the capable hands of Nilson, one of Braedan’s men, who seemed to have a gifted touch when it came to horses.

All around the clearing shelters were being erected with a speed that suggested they’d done this many times before. Very little was being said as the men concentrated hard on their tasks.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Aldith sliding off her horse, and she wondered whether she would expect someone to deal with it for her. She snorted. Aldith sometimes acted as if she was royalty.

‘Your tent has been erected, my lady,’ said Braedan from behind her.

She turned towards him. He was pointing to a circular structure in the centre of the enclosure but he was looking directly at her. Rain ran down his face and dripped off the end of his nose. She smiled at the sight and for a second he smiled back at her. Her heart stuttered strangely at the sight.

‘Where’s the food tent?’ she asked, pulling her gaze away from his face and focusing instead on a point just behind his head.

With that, his smile vanished and his customary scowl appeared.

‘Eluard is dealing with the food, my lady, but it will be awhile before it is ready.’

He stalked away from her, his boots making large prints in the mud.

‘I guess I’ll have to find the food tent by myself, then,’ she muttered under her breath.

She squelched around the clearing until she found Eluard attempting to light a fire under a sheet of canvas, its sides held up by thick wooden poles. The youngest of Braedan’s men, Eluard seemed to be given less physical jobs than the others, and she found it quite sweet that the men, for all their gruff exteriors, seemed to treat him like the son of the group.

He jumped up when he saw her approach and a deep blush spread across his ruddy complexion.

‘I’m...sorry. It...it’s not ready yet, my lady,’ he stuttered.

Ellena glanced at the bag by Eluard’s feet, which appeared to hold a lump of unidentifiable red meat.

‘I can see that.’ She smiled. ‘I’ve come to help.’

She couldn’t have startled him more if she’d told him she’d grown an extra arm.

She suppressed an amused smile; she didn’t want to upset him by laughing at his expression. She sensed it would hurt his feelings.

‘You see to that fire,’ she said, ‘and I’ll see what other provisions we have.’

They might be far away from anywhere, but she wasn’t about to eat a lump of meat with nothing to go with it. She’d been riding all day and she was starving.

She rummaged around in a large canvas bag and found a few sad-looking carrots and a couple of leeks. She set about chopping them into a large stewing pot.

‘I don’t suppose there’s any wine?’ she asked as she neared the end of the vegetables.

‘No, my lady.’

‘That’s a pity. This is going to be very dry otherwise.’

‘There is some ale...’

‘You fetch that, then, and we’ll add it to the pot.’

‘I’m not sure Sir Leofric will like—’

‘Let’s not tell Sir Leofric,’ said Ellena, and was rewarded with a shy smile.

‘Don’t tell me what?’ demanded a deep voice from the edge of the shelter.

Eluard’s face flooded with colour again and he immediately turned his attention back to the carcass he was attempting to chop.

Braedan looked curious rather than angry, so Ellena said, ‘We’re attempting to make this stew edible. I thought a slug of ale might improve the flavour. That is all.’

Braedan couldn’t move. Of all the things he’d been expecting to see when he’d found that Ellena wasn’t in her tent, the sight of her chopping carrots into a stewing pot hadn’t featured once.

He’d thought when she’d asked where the food tent was that she was demanding to be fed, but he should have known better. Over the last three days she’d ridden long hours and not complained once. He’d known men who couldn’t last as long as she could in the saddle.

Instead of hiding away in her tent, like her irritating maid, she had made herself useful. How many other highly born ladies would know what to do with a bag of uncooked vegetables past their best?

‘I don’t mind a drop of ale going in,’ he commented.

Anything to make the food more edible was good in his eyes, although he did wince when he saw how much ale she was pouring into the pot. He hoped she knew what she was doing and was not wasting precious drink.

Eventually the rest of the men were trudging in, and helping themselves to ladles of the rich-looking stew. Ellena sat on an overturned log and spooned food into her mouth. Her maid stayed on the other side of the food tent—relations between them seemed strained—but young Eluard sat near her, speaking shyly to her now and then.

Braedan was pleased she’d found someone to keep her company, because her maid wasn’t much good, and of course he was pleased it was Eluard. It wasn’t as if Braedan could keep her company himself...

It was essential he maintained a certain distance, because he was the one in charge and all his men looked to him to set an example. If he appeared to be over-familiar with her then the rest of them would follow, and the Earl of Ogmore would not be pleased.

It was annoying, though, the way his gaze kept seeking her out, and how a hard knot of jealousy seemed to be forming in his stomach because he wanted to be the one to make her smile.

He threw another log on the fire. ‘Move closer to the warmth, Lady Swein,’ he said. ‘It will help to dry your clothes.’

She raised one of her arched eyebrows at him.

‘Please,’ he added.

She smiled then—the first proper smile that had been directed solely at him.

His heart stumbled and he took a quick step backwards. She was beautiful, but her smile made her breathtaking, lighting up her blue eyes and making him want things he would never get from her.

He strode quickly from the tent and back out into the rain. Breathing heavily, he made his way to the edge of the camp and leaned against a tree.

She was forbidden. He knew that. In fact it was probably because she was denied to him that he was finding her so damn attractive and muddling his mind. He’d always wanted things he couldn’t have, and she was no exception.

But if she didn’t hate him now then she definitely would when she found out about his reward for returning her to her father.

He rubbed his eyes and pulled himself upright. Enough of this distraction—he would find his men on watch and see if they had anything to report.

The woods were silent, apart from the rustling of creatures in the undergrowth and the cawing of a bird overhead. He trod softly around the encampment but found nothing untoward. He returned to find that Ellena and her maid had retired to their tent.

His mind once more turned to her unbound hair and the way her chemise had clung to her body. She’d be sleeping in all her clothes tonight, but that didn’t stop his thoughts from taking a turn he was desperate to avoid.

He stalked away from her tent before he did anything foolish.

‘What is it about this journey that has you so jumpy?’ asked Merrick when Braedan joined him by the fire.

‘I’m no different from normal,’ said Braedan as he stretched his fingers out to the warmth.

Merrick snorted, but didn’t comment any further. Their usual camaraderie had been strained since Braedan had yelled at his friend for enjoying Aldith’s company. He didn’t regret it. Ellena must be kept safe at all costs.

He hadn’t told Merrick that this mission was different from every other one he’d ever taken. That this time there was so much at stake. If he was successful then the last eight years of hard graft would finally be rewarded and he would be able to repair some of the damage that had been done to his family’s name and fortune by his father’s treasonous acts.

He sat by the fire long after Merrick had turned in. The logs spat and hissed, turning black as images of his father teaching him to ride his first horse flickered through his mind. He hadn’t known it at the time, but that had been his last taste of sublime happiness.

He hadn’t thought about the big, burly man who’d raised him in a long time. As a boy he’d idolised him, but just as he’d reached manhood everything had been destroyed. His father had been executed as a traitor and his lands and wealth stripped from the family he’d left behind.

Braedan had taken his mother and two distraught younger sisters with him to the Earl of Ogmore. Braedan had done his knight’s training under Ogmore’s supervision, but even so it had been beyond humiliating to kneel before him and beg him to take in the three women.

In return Braedan had sworn his allegiance to Ogmore and he’d been doing his bidding ever since, rising to be his chief of guards and earning himself the nickname The Beast because of the ruthless way he squashed Ogmore’s enemies and the way his face had been disfigured while doing so.

Now, in return for years of service, Ogmore had promised him stewardship over Castle Swein so long as he safely returned the Earl’s widowed daughter to his care. Stewardship there would finally give him a certain status in the world, and allow him to build up enough wealth for his sisters’ dowries.

Ellena had been refusing her father’s entreaties to return for nearly a year. Two emissaries had been sent and had failed to return with her. She was apparently every bit as skilled at manipulation and dissembling as her wily father.

Ogmore’s patience had finally worn thin and he had dispatched Braedan to do the job.

Braedan felt a stab of guilt every time he thought of how he had finally got her to agree to leave her precious castle. He had told her that she needed to negotiate her freedom to act as steward of the castle with her father directly, and that hiding in Castle Swein was the coward’s way out.

He’d seen enough of her stubborn nature to know that she wouldn’t like to be branded a coward, and he’d been right. It didn’t sit right with him that he knew something she didn’t, but that castle meant more to him than simply another home. It meant the restoration of his family to their rightful place in the world and the safety and welfare of Katherine and Linota, his two sisters, who had been so badly damaged by their father’s actions, and who would never make good marriages if they were forced to continue living as they were currently.

If that meant betraying the beautiful Lady Swein then so be it.

The first watch returned to camp and he heard the second group of men fan out in the forest. He stood from his place by the fire and stretched. He ought to get some rest, as it would be his turn to stand sentry soon enough.

It felt like only seconds later when he was awoken by shouting. He grabbed his sword and was running before he’d left the shelter of his tent.

‘What’s happening?’ he shouted to Merrick.

‘A warning’s been sounded. There are men approaching.’

‘Stay with the women,’ he commanded as he raced to the edge of their encampment.

Behind him he could hear the panicked braying of the horses, and in front the sound of men engaged in sword fight.

He dispatched his first opponent within seconds of joining the fight.

He was on to the next one before the first had dropped to the floor.

Soon the metallic smell of blood filled the air. The tip of another opponent’s sword had grazed his neck, but it was only a light cut and he soon had his vengeance by adding his body to the growing pile of their enemies.

The fighting was intense, but they were gaining the upper hand, and before long he heard the welcome sound of his enemy retreating.

‘Make sure they’ve all gone,’ he barked to his men.

He turned on his heel and raced back to their campsite, muttering a prayer that they’d done enough to keep Ellena safe.

A watery sun was just beginning to peek through the trees when he burst back into the opening.

Merrick stepped forward to greet him. ‘Is it all over?’

‘For now,’ said Braedan. ‘Are the women safe?’

‘Yes, but I’m afraid—’

Braedan didn’t wait for him to finish that sentence. He pushed past him and rounded the corner of the tent.

There he found Ellena kneeling in the mud. Eluard’s head was resting in her lap and even from this distance he could tell that the boy was badly injured.

She lifted a tear-stained face to his and his gut wrenched at her expression.

‘He shouldn’t have been fighting but he insisted—’ Her voice broke as she bent over the boy. ‘Why would someone hurt a young man just to get to me? Couldn’t they see he was little more than a child?’

Braedan crouched down next to her. Her whole body was shaking and he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms.

‘Will you take him to my tent?’ she asked, turning her pale face to his.

He opened his mouth to protest—it wasn’t appropriate for her to have a man in her tent, even a young one—but she forestalled him with a soft, ‘Please,’ and he found himself nodding instead.

He lifted Eluard, who moaned softly but didn’t wake, and carried him to the bundle of blankets she’d been using to sleep on. Eluard weighed virtually nothing, and he cursed himself for bringing the lad on this mission.

He gently settled the boy on her makeshift bed. Over the coppery smell of the boy’s blood he could sense Ellena’s delicate fragrance in the air, the soft scent of lavender and something else he couldn’t identify but which he thought of as uniquely her.

Staying this close to her was dangerous. Being alone with her was too much of a temptation.

‘I’ll send Aldith in,’ he said to her, before striding out of the tent and away from the enforced intimacy.

Ellena had cared for her sick husband for nearly four years as illness had gradually taken his life. She’d seen everything the human body had to offer and had quickly got over any squeamishness.

She took a deep breath and began to remove Eluard’s tunic. Blood had soaked through the fabric. She shuddered, but carried on. No matter how bad it was for her, it was worse for him, and she didn’t want him to be frightened by waking up and seeing a look of horror on her face.

The tent flap opened behind her, but she didn’t look up. She didn’t want to see her maid right now. She had been useless when the attack had happened. If it hadn’t been for the sake of propriety she would have sent her maid back to the castle, but she knew she was stuck with the tiresome woman—at least until they arrived at Ogmore.

‘Merrick tells me you tried to protect Eluard,’ said a gruff voice behind her.

She jumped at Braedan’s words. She hadn’t expected him to return.

‘I probably did more harm than good,’ she murmured, remembering her very brief battle with a blond-haired stranger. ‘I merely used Eluard’s sword to block the man from striking Eluard again. Merrick took over before I really knew what was going on.’

He didn’t respond but neither did he leave the tent.

She heard him inhale as she finally exposed Eluard’s wound—a deep, long cut across his chest.

‘Here,’ said Braedan, handing her some strips of fabric.

His callused fingers brushed hers as she took the offered material. She ignored the tingle the contact made and pressed the cloth to Eluard’s wound.

‘Stitch him up as best you can,’ said Braedan abruptly. ‘We’re leaving as soon as the tents are packed up. It won’t take long.’

Ellena stood quickly and turned to face Braedan. Only a whisper of air separated them in the confined space of the tent. She knew she wanted to argue with him but his proximity had momentarily robbed her of coherent thought.

She took a small step backwards and cleared her throat. ‘We can’t move him.’

‘We must. We can’t stay here. Copsi knows where we are and he’ll attack again once his men have rallied.’

‘Then you’ll have to fight them off again. We cannot move Eluard now. He will surely perish if we do.’

‘If we stay here then more of us will die.’

Braedan turned to leave but Ellena grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. The tight band of his muscles moved beneath her fingers and she quickly let go as a strange heat seared through her.

‘I will not leave,’ she said.

‘Yes, you will,’ he answered, and he swept from the tent, that gentle side of him vanishing as if it had never existed.

Chapter Four

Ellena stood next to her horse, gripping the animal’s reins tightly. The skin on her face was a worrying shade of pale but her back was ramrod-straight and her blue eyes flashed angrily.

Braedan rubbed his forehead. She hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction since her tent had been dismantled and Eluard had been strapped to a makeshift stretcher. And if she was angry now then her mood was going to be a lot worse when she found out where he wanted her to travel for the next part of their journey.

Copsi had fallen back, but he knew their location and he knew their direction. They would have to move quickly as they were especially vulnerable right now.

‘I’ve decided we need to split up into two separate parties,’ he said, the sound of his voice cutting across the low rumble of his men’s voices and reducing them to silence. ‘Tanner and Walden, you will take Eluard to the nearest town. Seek a medic; I don’t care what it costs.’

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Ellena twitch in surprise and she finally turned her head towards him.

‘Aldith, you will swap cloaks with Ellena and ride with Merrick on his horse. Instead of following our planned route we will cross the River Burcoed and take a more circuitous course to Ogmore’s land. It will take us longer, but it will give us the element of surprise. Ellena, you will ride with me. Nilson will take care of the riderless horses.’

He heard Ellena’s gasp of surprise but didn’t turn to look at her. He knew she would hate being in such close proximity with him, but he wouldn’t be swayed on this matter.

‘Won’t Copsi and his men expect Lady Swein to be with you? It would make more sense if she rode with me,’ Merrick argued. He was the only one of his men brave enough to contradict his orders.

Braedan nodded. That did make more sense, but he would be damned if Ellena sat between Merrick’s thighs—besides, he was the one who had sworn to keep her safe. He was better placed to do that if they were close.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But I hope we’ll throw enough doubt on the situation to split their forces. We’ve already depleted their numbers so there can’t be many of them left.’

Merrick nodded, although he was clearly unhappy.

No one else raised any objections and he was pleased that Ellena hadn’t argued. He’d half expected to deal with her strenuous objections and he didn’t want to put her down in front of his men. She deserved their respect after the way she had treated Eluard. Not many noble ladies would put a young orphan’s safety and comfort before their own, kneeling in the mud and carefully dressing his wounds.

‘We leave now. Lady Swein, please swap your cloak with Aldith’s.’

The two women didn’t glance at each other as they exchanged clothes, the transaction allowing Braedan a brief glimpse of Ellena’s hair. Her dark locks were tightly bound in an elaborate plait that was gathered at the nape of her delicate neck.

Ellena pulled the rough woollen hood of her maid’s cloak over her head, while Aldith fixed Ellena’s veil over hers. It wasn’t the best of disguises—Ellena was much taller than Aldith—but it was better than nothing. Her rich dark green cloak clearly marked her out as a noblewoman and made her an obvious target.

The rigid set of her shoulders suggested she wasn’t happy with him. He sighed quietly. If only she was as soft and as gentle with him as she was with Eluard his life would be a lot easier.

The image of her tending to him while he lay in bed sprang suddenly to mind and he pushed it away forcefully. That would never happen.

‘Lady Swein.’ He held out a hand towards her, hoping that because she hadn’t argued she would be willing to join him on his horse.

‘I don’t think this is necessary,’ she said, turning to face him.

‘You’ll be safer if we ride together.’

‘No... I...’ She looked around the group of assembled men, who were already on horseback and watching their exchange.

Although none of them betrayed any emotion at her obvious distress, he could sense a subtle shift in their allegiance. These men had willingly followed him into many battles, but by helping Eluard she had gained their support. They would defend her to the death—possibly even against him. Luckily he meant her no harm.

‘Please,’ he said, trying to soften the demand, despite the fact he had no intention of letting her ride by herself. He would tie her up and throw her over the back of his saddle if he had to.

She nodded quickly and the muscles in his back relaxed. If anyone tried to get to her they would have to come through him—and he wasn’t easy to kill.

He swung into his saddle and then pulled her up to join him.

He immediately regretted his decision.

It had been torturous, imagining what her curves would feel like against his body. The reality was far worse. As they began their brisk trot through the trees the saddle pushed her thighs against his and every movement Stoirm made jolted their bodies together.

By the time they’d cleared the forest all his focus was on the parts of his body that touched hers. He should have been concentrating on the surrounding countryside, but nothing could distract him from the direction his mind was taking him.

He wanted to tug the hood of her cloak from over her hair and unbind the pins that held her plait in place. He wanted to run his fingers through the long tresses and touch his lips to her slender neck. He imagined her sighing with pleasure as his beard tickled the sensitive skin there, until she relaxed against him and allowed him to touch his mouth to hers. His kiss would be soft and gentle until...

‘Sir,’ said Nilson, bringing him back into the moment. ‘There’s a small group of men following us.’

Braedan twisted in his saddle. Behind them a tight group of riders followed at a brisk pace. He cursed under his breath; he’d hoped they’d get further than this before Copsi’s men caught up with them.

Once their pursuers realised they’d been spotted they nudged their horses into action and flew towards them, quickly raising their bows and pointing them in the direction of him and his own men. With Ellena in front of him he wouldn’t be able to reach his own bow and arrow.

Braedan kicked Stoirm into action. ‘Hold on tight!’ he yelled to Ellena as an arrow hit his chain mail and bounced harmlessly off.

His men rode hard next to them, providing a protective shell around Ellena. He heard Aldith squeal, but Ellena remained silent.

More men appeared at the top of a rise to the right of them. Copsi and his men must have been following them more closely than he’d realised.

The new group began to charge towards them, their weapons drawn. He had only a split second to make a decision.

‘Men!’ he shouted. ‘Hold them off. You know the route I plan to travel. Meet with us once you’ve drawn them off our trail.’

He pushed Stoirm into a faster gallop and they flew away from the scene. Behind him he heard the sounds of a battle taking place but he didn’t look back. He needed to get Ellena to safety, whatever the cost.

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