All for a Rose Read Online Free PDF Page B

pretty things when there’s no reason to have them out here.”
    “No,” Maribel protested quickly, hoping she sounded more sincere than she felt. “No, that isn’t it at all.”
    “Then you would like a dress as well?” her father prompted.
    Maribel tightened her hands into fists, trying to smother her frustration. A dress. What on earth could she want with a new dress? Another uncomfortable entrapment to hinder her in her chores, a reminder of the wretched life waiting for her with the nobility, a life she’d escaped and was now doomed to go back to? She didn’t want a dress. She didn’t want anything, damn it!
    Her grip closed around the book she still held and inspiration struck. “No! No, it’s just, there’s something else I want more.” She hefted the book up and flipped to the page with the rare rose. She held it up for her father and pointed at the picture. “If you can find this in one of the florist shops or perhaps at an apothecary, then it will be as expensive as ten gowns.” She bit her lip. “I’m afraid I’m the one who’s asking for too much. But they grow wild as well, perhaps you will see one during your travels?”
    Her father examined the picture. “A dress for my Corrine and a rose for my Maribel. I will do my very best.”
    He handed the book back to Maribel and headed back to the farmhouse. “I must prepare for the journey now, I want to leave immediately. That ship is sitting in the harbor, I don’t want to leave it there for one second more than is necessary!”
    Corrine threw her arms around Maribel and hung there like a sticky cobweb. “Oh, Maribel, it’s almost over. I can feel it, everything is going to be better now.”
    Maribel hugged her sister back as guilt ate her alive from the inside out.

Chapter Two
     
    Something is burning .
    Daman wrinkled his nose at the thick, woodsy scent of smoke slowly filling the air around him. For a moment, he wavered, torn between holding on to his meditation and finding out where the scent of smoke was emanating from. It had taken him hours to work this far into the meditation, hours to feel anything even resembling calm. He was very nearly at the end, the most difficult part, the part where he always failed. That moment where he would have to call up an image of the witch who had stolen his life and hold her in his mind without feeling anger or hatred, or the uncontrollable urge to destroy—
    A memory erupted like an iron spike through the bedrock of his concentration, shattering the calm, meditative state he’d fought so hard for. His temper burst forth like hot lava exploding from the earth and he hissed, blood heating with his fury. It was like coming out of the water after a long swim, taking a deep breath after holding it for far too long. His eyes flew open, his clawed hands flexing as he scanned the room with quick, sharp glances, searching for the intruder who had so easily shattered his efforts and left him wallowing in the suspended fury that had been his permanent state of mind for the last year.
    At first he saw nothing. He examined the crimson pillar candle nestled in a gold plate on the stone floor in front of the rug he’d curled up on to meditate. The flame wavered as if something had stirred the air, but remained smooth, resting calmly on its wick. No black smoke danced above the flame.
    Daman swiveled in place, muscles protesting as they were forced out of the position he’d been holding for the last two hours. He rolled his aching shoulders, the thick lines of scales trailing down his neck and over his shoulders tugging as he tilted his head from side to side. As he worked the tension from his taxed muscles, he followed the scent of smoke. Someone had invaded his home, his privacy. When he found them, they would find out why all living creatures had fled his property, why he was the only being left on this entire damned estate. His claws ached, sharp white crescents itching to bury themselves in the intruder.