Halcyon Rising Read Online Free Page A

violence.
    He strode to the fireplace and threw a few pieces of kindling into the hot ashes, stoking the flame. “I will prepare a tisane for you. For certain, you are cold and thirsty.”
    She didn’t answer — not that he had expected her to. Her gaze burned into his back as he poured the mixture of chamomile oil, water and honey into two cups. The brew might help calm her nerves, and perhaps if she saw he did not intend to attack her, she would allow herself to relax.
    “My name is Sebastian. Will you honor me with yours?” He risked a glance over his shoulder and found her staring at the open door. The one at the bottom of the steps locked automatically and would not open unless she depressed one of the strategically placed levers hidden throughout the tower, but she had no way of knowing that.
    “If you try to escape, my brother will hunt you like an animal, and there will be nothing I can do to save you from your fate.”
    As though his words of warning had severed her last bit of resistance, her legs buckled beneath her. She sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands.
    “I’m so afraid,” she whispered, her voice muffled and low.
    He had not been certain she understood him earlier, but her words were clear, though tinged with an unfamiliar accent.
    He abandoned the tisane and went to her side, kneeling beside her and staring at her downcast, blonde head in mingled interest and pity. “I know. But you are safe now.”
    A small shudder wracked her slim frame, but she kept her face hidden, curling in on herself as though she wished to disappear. Sudden empathy filled him. He knew exactly how she felt.
    Her feet were in even worse shape than he had thought, covered with bloody scrapes and blisters. The walk from the dungeon must have been excruciating, but she had not made one whimper of complaint.
    “Did the men hurt you?” He dreaded her answer. The strange, skin-tight garb she wore beneath his robe did nothing to hide the curves of her body, and he could well imagine the temptation she had posed. “Did they force themselves upon you?”
    “They were too afraid of me,” she answered, her voice hoarse and tremulous. “But they made me walk for days. Whenever I fell, they struck and kicked me until I managed to get up again.”
    He gave a soft, sympathetic sigh, but her words filled him with relief. At least she had not been ravaged. A small miracle, considering the men who had captured her. They were superstitious fools to think one frightened girl, no matter how odd, could harm a half-dozen armed men.
    She looked miserable; battered, bruised and scraped from head to toe. A hot bath would lift her spirits considerably, but he hesitated to offer for several reasons. The hot spring beneath the castle was his secret place — the entrance hidden beneath the tower — and no one else knew of it. Moreover, she had reached the end of her strength and could not possibly make it down the steep, twisting stairs by herself. That meant he would have to carry her, and he had not willingly touched anyone in over six years.
    Perhaps later, after she had grown to trust him. At the moment she was so frightened she would never consent to bathe in his presence. Besides, he was eager to get a look inside her pack.
    “If you would like to rest, you are welcome to the bed.”
    She shook her head, a new rush of panic flooding her eyes.
    Frowning, he rose and strode to the dais. He grabbed several of the furs and quilts, then piled them on the floor beside her. “At least warm yourself.”
    As he returned to check on the tisane, he heard her scuttle away. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed that she had taken the blankets to the far side of the room, where she huddled beneath them with her back against the wall.
    Pouring carefully, he then took her the steaming cup and a hunk of cheese left over from his afternoon meal.
    She accepted his peace offerings without comment, obviously confused.
    “You are safe,” he