Blackheart by Raelle Logan Read Free Book Online Page A

shroud over the water. Lochlanaire slid on the waterfall’s crown. Faltering to stand, he caught a low hanging tree limb to keep his balance. He dropped the lantern, which then floated amidst the roar of drowning waves. “Siren?” he shouted, attempting to see the pool below.
    “Here,” shrieked her voice. “Here…I’m…here… help! ”
    Lochlanaire stretched the tree bough so he could look over the rim and there he saw a shadowy figure fighting to hold on. “Toss up the chain,” he yelled, over the water’s rumble.
    “Are you crazy!?”
    “Trust me,” Lochlanaire insisted.
    Siren flipped the chain toward the crest. Heaving forward, Lochlanaire grabbed the links and began to tug. Siren surrendered her grip, freeing the tree bough. Screeching, she whooshed across the waterfall’s core. Lochlanaire heaved her to the ridge. Siren dove between his arms, but under her exuberance, Lochlanaire lost his balance. His fingers leapt off the tree that anchored him. They both fumbled over the waterfall, splashing the pool’s depths. Never taught to swim, Siren dipped in and out of waves, crying for Lochlanaire to save her. Lochlanaire swam through the pool and swept underneath Siren, pushing her to the surface, where she linked her arms around his neck in a rapturous embrace. Lochlanaire warred against the emotions of which fired. Her water-silhouetted breasts scalded his chest and a desire for her surged to life. When Siren peered at him, innocently licking wet lips, Lochlanaire couldn’t refuse his craving to kiss her. His lips seized hers, his left hand caressed her breast beneath the soft mantle of her droopy shirt.
    Siren was frantic for more of his touch.
    Lochlanaire squelched his lust, tore his lips from hers and helped her to shore. When Siren’s feet touched the ground, he trudged from the pool. Another apparition spelled by his past intruded. A forest enveloped him and a man’s voice counted steps. Lochlanaire saw his own boot strides; a loaded, cocked pistol he crimped in his hand. He witnessed the duel, the one by which he was convicted of murder. He strode to a tree bordering the water’s edge, his hand cringed its bark.
    Siren studied him, concerned that he was twisted by some sort of mystical wizardry. She left the pool, seeking her abductor. She caressed his back, comforting, for she did not understand the cruelties afflicting him.
    Lochlanaire spun on her, throttled her hand and shoved it away. His fingers ringed her throat and squeezed. He whirled from the past and suddenly recognized his villainy. Lochlanaire released her.
    Siren backed off, cuddling her bruised throat.
    Lochlanaire retrieved her chain, forcing them to the cave that had become her prison. Inside, he picked up a giant rock and felled it upon her chain, flinging far distant the rock she’d commanded in her flight for freedom, sure no others were available for her to employ in another escape. Lochlanaire retreated and was lost in the forest.
    Siren was left to wonder what demons throttled him in turmoil.
    With his eventual return, Lochlanaire found Siren asleep. He dumped over the smoldering fire the batch of limbs he’d chopped and lit them to crackle. He sat behind the lacy flame, guzzling wine from the decanter he’d pillaged from the ship. He watched the beauty sleep. She must be frightened of him. Lochlanaire understood, he was terrorized himself, for he knew so little about what he’s capable of inflicting. He could have strangled her to death at the waterfall, all because he’s not in rule of his memories. The assassin in him obviously is so ingrained that he twirled into a murderous creature. He was truly barbaric. He must keep his distance.
    Waking, Siren found her enslaver clad under a veil the fire enchanted. She couldn’t say if Lochlanaire was tangled by the labyrinths that enfolded him, but she lay perfectly still, not craving to test providence.
    Lochlanaire’s eyes rose and drifted to Siren. “I’m regretful