Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
He wore no cross about his neck. Offered no blessing before or after the vows. No prayer for protection against the witch, though any true man of God would have offered one in these times. And his appearance was sloven for a man of the cloth and he drank to excess. He’d hurried them through the solemn rite, almost as if he was anxious to have it done.
Her brow knit, not believing she hadn’t put it all together. It made more of an impact when all the signs were brought together.
William… he wore no cross either. And in the time, he’d been here, she could not recall him offering a single blessing against the witch. No prayers in the Great Hall to calm fears. Only words meant to stir suspicion—toward her.
She absentmindedly took the hag stone in her hand.
Could it be?
Could William be a warlock? And the first cleric—his servant, sent here to keep them from truly being wed?
The thought hit her with such force she had to steady herself against the table.
She needed to know. She needed some proof.
Gathering her cloak about her, Aura stepped out of her cottage, the gray skies casting a bleak feeling in the air. Villagers cast their eyes to the disturbing clouds and gathered in small groups to whisper. She walked the narrow lanes, stopping here and there to speak to those she trusted the most and those who trusted her.
“Did the cleric offer blessings? Prayers for protection?” she asked.
They frowned in thought and were surprised at their own answers.
“Nay. He spoke only of you.”
“Told me to keep my guard against you.”
“Said the danger was close.”
“Did he offer to pray for you?” Aura asked them all, and the answer was always the same.
“Nay, not once.”
Each answer was a stone dropped into her stomach, sinking her deeper into certainty.
By the time she circled the village, the sky had darkened even more and many hurried into their cottages, knowing rain would fall soon. Or was it something sinister they ran from?
Aura stood where she was, her eyes searching. She spotted him—William. He hadn’t left yet. His back was to her at first, his head bent toward two villagers. They shifted uneasily under whatever he was saying, glancing anxiously past him as if wishing to be gone.
Something in him must have sensed her, because he turned.
For a long, slow moment, the world narrowed to the space between them. She read the recognition in his eyes—he knew she had pieced it together.
And then came the faintest smile. Not the smile of a man caught in a lie, but of one who found pleasure in being discovered.
He was… a warlock.
CHAPTER 21
Declan slammed his palm against the table, the crack echoing off the stone walls, intending to finally get some answers. “Enough games. Why has the curse turned on me? Why can’t I so much as touch my wife without falling at her feet? Was this your doing—or are darker forces at work?”
The witch’s cloak rustled as she stalked toward him, her eyes blazing. “You truly are blind. All would have gone well if you had not taken Aura to the ring of stones. I can easily correct any damage that pitiful, useless man you trusted to wed you may have done.” She shook her head. “Is it your eyes or common sense that fails you. You took no note of the cleric, or you would have seen that he wore no cross, offered no blessings, and partook in the sin of gluttony by the way he ate and drank himself senseless.”
His shoulders tensed, annoyed that she was right but defended himself anyway. “I was eager to keep Aura safe and to do that I needed to make her my wife and quickly.”
Her laugh was sharp, humorless. “Idiot. So, you accept a sloven man who shows up, barely mutters holy words, and you do not even question who he claims to be? In the end, leaving Aura vulnerable.”
Declan’s jaw clenched. “And, of course, you know who he is.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a witch if I didn’t. He’s a minion of someone who practices dark magic.”
“Rest assured, Aura was not left vulnerable,” Declan said, disturbed upon learning that. “The error has been rectified.”
The witch froze. Her gaze narrowed to a dangerous slit. “What do you mean? What have you done in my absence?”
“I do not need you here to tend to my duties. A cleric from Donchill Abbey arrived and wed us,” he said, his mind churning as he spoke. “William.” His eyes narrowed as he spoke a sudden thought aloud. “And like the first cleric, he wears no cross.”
The witch stiffened, her expression snapping from disdain to sharp alertness. “Describe him.”
Declan frowned, then spoke slowly. “He is almost as tall as me and like you he has white hair, though not long, shoulder length. His features are quite striking, a small scar along his cheek offering no distraction only curiosity as to how he got it.”