Scorched by Sharon Ashwood Read Free Book Online

you.”
    Atreus raised his eyes and glared. “You know nothing of my reasons.”
    “Reasons? You’re my master! You’re supposed to protect me!”
    Atreus stared at her a moment, but his eyes grew distant until he looked straight through her flesh.
    Constance’s voice grew low and hard. “I don’t know how I’m going to stop this, but I will.”
    “You’re a girl. A milkmaid, at that. A nothing.”
    “Be careful, Constance,” Captain Reynard warned softly. “Your bravery does you credit, but you will not win this battle.”
    “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
    Atreus blinked, seeming to awaken from a momentary trance.
    There was no feint, no warning gesture. She was utterly unprepared.
    The sorcerer slammed her into the wall again, this time holding her there with the brute force of his magic. She was pinned six feet above the floor, like a butterfly stuck in a shadow box. He held her hard. Insanely hard. She could feel the compression doing something inside her, something not even vampire bodies were supposed to endure.
    Viktor howled his outrage, but Atreus used a second bolt of power to smash the huge werebeast to the floor. The sorcerer may not have had enough power left to rule a kingdom, but he had more than enough to wound those closest to him.
    Captain Reynard looked up at Sylvius. The look was almost a plea. “You can end this.”
    There was no air in Constance to scream with. She watched, helpless, as Sylvius stood on the ledge, a look of utter devastation on his face. “I’m afraid,” he said.
    “I will protect you,” said Reynard. “I give you my word.”
    “But will you protect them?” Sylvius pointed to Constance and Viktor.
    Reynard nodded. “I will see to it. My men will come here every day to make sure they are well and to supply whatever they might need. That is my pledge in return for your freedom.”
    Sylvius said nothing more, but seemed to droop even as he poised on the balls of his feet, balancing on the very lip of the stone. Then he fell forward, wings half opened, arms loose at his sides. His long hair fanned behind him, his eyes closing with all the resignation of death. As he fell, his form thinned and lengthened, melting into an iridescent haze that shone from within. The cloud seemed to be made of dust particles swirling around and around, neither sparkling nor dull but gleaming with the sheen of pearls.
    Hardened as they were, the guardsmen still gave a collective gasp of wonder. The spectacle was beautiful, the mere sight enough to revive some of the urge for life that the Castle had stolen away.
    Like a glowing finger, the cloud that was Sylvius landed on the demon trap, making the red lacquer dazzle with intensity. The box seemed to inhale, dragging the billowing particles inside itself—more and impossibly more, fitting what seemed like a roomful of pearly cloud inside the tiny cube. At last the lid snapped shut, and the brilliance was snuffed out.
    Once again, Constance slammed to the floor as Atreus released her. This time, she didn’t open her eyes. She heard the guardsmen shuffle and talk in low voices. She heard their footsteps as they marched away. She heard Viktor’s low whines. Finally, she heard the rustle of Atreus’s robes as he wandered out of the chamber.
    They took my boy .
    She lay coiled into a painful ball. If only her mind could slide into the pain and dissolve, but she was a woman. As long as one of her own needed her—be it a stray calf or a foundling incubus—she couldn’t rest. She had to save Sylvius, but how? She had needed a protector to survive in the Castle. How could she possibly save someone else?
    Constance braced one hand against the floor, then the other. Experimentally, she pushed herself up enough to slump against the wall. Viktor butted his head against her thigh, letting her know he was there. She rested one hand on the beast’s head, too weak yet to scratch his ears.
    Despite Viktor, she felt horribly alone.
    She touched the