ReluctantConsort Read Online Free PDF Page B

and stepped
to follow the guards already leaving the dungeon.
    “Trine,” she said his name softly, watching as his back
stiffened, his fingers forming fists at his sides.
    “Say what you must, quickly,” he commanded her, his voice
carrying the sound of a man in much pain.
    “No one will tell me how Quin fares.” She fought to hold
back her tears at the thought of her little brother. He was so small and always
so frightened.
    Trine said nothing but terror washed through her at the
tightening of his shoulders and the slight dip of his head.
    “Trine, please. How does he fare? Does he revile me now? Has
he not asked for me?” Tears choked her voice, barely held back by the pride
Alistair had always claimed she had far too much of.
    “The little prince cannot be found,” he told her, his tone
barely audible. “When last he was seen by the guard attempting to capture him last
morn he had disappeared into the Causeway.”
    Arabella attempted to swallow past the sobs that would have
torn from her soul. “Why would he do such?” She shook her head in disbelief.
“Nightmares of that desolate place plague him often.”
    Trine shook his head. “I know not. I must go now…”
    “Trine, please…” Someone had to find Quin. He was but a boy.
    “Do not, Princess,” he sighed, his tone weary rather than
filled with the hatred or anger she had heard before. “I can find no way to
help either the young prince or his much-beloved sister.”
    Arabella forced back her tears. “And would you, Trine, if
you could?”
    He turned back to her then, his brown gaze filled with
regret now that no others were there to witness the weakness.
    “I and those of my house have fought to find a way,” he said
softly then. “I dare not risk my own daughter, Princess, or the son who will
tend me in my old age should I see those days pass. We are but three, and I
cannot read men’s minds to learn if others would aid me as well.”
    “Mayhap, aid the ones who have come for her instead.”
    Arabella’s gaze jerked to the warriors. Their lashes had
lifted as they stared up at her while she spoke to Trine, and she near gasped
as the sudden realization of their origin. It was there in their eyes, shifting
colors of magick as though magick spora sparked in eyes of dark, midnight
black. There were no whites framing the endless midnight of those gazes.
    Black hair, unruly and mussed around their hard faces, their
cheekbones high, though both were scarred, hardened. They did not appear to be
twins, though perhaps she was mistaken in that, for their looks were clearly
closely related.
    “And how should I aid you?” Trine hissed as Arabella fought
to control a sudden heat beginning to rush through her veins. As the warriors’
gazes melded into hers, her heart raced and her muscles trembled as though
weakened.
    These were her warriors. Yet how could this be?
    “Ensure the tunnel is without soldiers until we have her
from the castle.” Dark, deep, that voice of her dark warrior had something
fluttering in her belly that she had never felt before, even with him and his
brother.
    The warriors rose to their feet, so tall she and Trine both
were forced to stare up at them in surprise.
    “Think you that I could possibly do so?” Trine’s amazed
anger wasn’t lost on the warriors or herself. “It is all I can do to keep them
from falling into this vile place to rape her themselves.” He raked furious
fingers through his graying dark hair and glanced to the dungeon door once
more. “They are as the werewolves that prey within the Causeway and howl out
their craven hunger each night. Should I keep them from falling upon her and
ending her innocence before some chance at her escape be found then I shall
count my soul as forever bound for the Garden of Nirvana for that act alone.”
    They stared at Trine for long moments then, as though his
disbelieving anger and dramatic claim was as a child’s outburst they had yet to
figure out.
    “Matters