Chapter 1
“Who are you?” Bran roared; his voice echoed like a storm through the Great Hall. He stepped forward and seized the scoundrel by the collar, yanking him from the cold stone floor until his boots barely scraped the ground. Light as a twig, he thought bitterly, his rage sharpening like a blade. “What are you doing in my castle?”
The thief squirmed in his grasp, a sound half-defiance, half-panic escaping their lips. But Bran’s patience had long since rotted away. With a growl, he reached for the hood that had mocked him—taunted him with the secrets it concealed—and ripped it away.
Then froze.
The world narrowed, silent, save for his own breathing, his grip faltering just a little.
This thief, this miserable intruder, was not a boy at all.
He was a woman.
For just one second, Bran felt like he had swallowed his tongue. He let go of him—no, of her—like the licks of flames had seared his skin and he pushed her back.
Away.
Golden locks slipped loose from the tie at the back of her head, catching the dim candlelight. Dark lashes framed eyes that burned with defiance, her skin soft and smooth as silk. He balled his fists to resist the sudden, absurd urge to reach out and touch her.
“You’re a—you’re a girl.” He managed, tripping over his own words.
“Yup.” She nodded and a grin started to grow under those bright flaring eyes. “Never seen one before in the wild?”
“Oh,” he quickly regained his composure and laughed humourlessly, venom replacing his surprise. “I’ve seen many women, most of them in my bed. But none of them were stupid enough to break into my castle, without permission! So, I’ll ask again, what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”
“Oh,” the girl smiled leisurely. “I was on a walk through the forest, which is very, very beautiful by the way, full of birds and the rarest plants. But I must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere, as I didn’t recognize my surroundings anymore. When I stumbled upon this castle’s walls, I thought I might see if I could ask directions. But I found no one here, no one, but you.”
Bran knew, he simply knew the girl was lying through her teeth and he smiled, widely, but he felt his eyes burn with anger. “A wrong turn you say? Really? Through the darkest forest within miles that no sane soul dares to tread? You must be a bold, little adventurer.”
He stepped back into her, felt the heat of her body encompass him. His eyes narrowed, and he reached out to lift her chin. Her skin burned him, sharp and searing pain dulled his other senses, but he didn’t pull away. No, the pain only made him more adamant to find the truth in her defiant, lying eyes. “You must think me a fool, don’t you?”
His fingers tensed, his grip on her chin tightened as he tried to see in her eyes what she didn’t say. She squirmed, struggled under his stare, but refused to back down. “I—I can’t talk with your hand trying to frazzle my chin.”
Suddenly Bran let go again, flexing his fingers as if they were stiff, but noticed how they didn’t feel burned anymore. He furrowed his brows as he bent them cautiously once more. The pain had lessened, the raw, blistering agony he usually felt when his curse punished him for touching another person, just wasn’t as intense as usual.
The girl, she really was no more than a girl, barely yet a woman, rubbed her chin and frowned at him her eyes blazing with anger. “You hurt me!” she accused.
He shrugged with a huff, smiling half-heartedly. “What did you expect, that I’d treat you like a princess after you break into my castle?”
“No. But you could be a little bit nicer.” She spewed her venom, not minding who she was talking to. “But to answer your question, I don’t think you’re a fool. I came here to see for myself if what they said was true. I thought surely the man wouldn’t be—couldn’t be—as cold and harsh as people were saying. But now I think I agree with them. I think you’re a monster. I think.” She took a step in his direction, pointing at him, her confidence growing. “You’re exactly the monster people are talking about!”
“Enough!” He roared, taking her extended hand and yanking her behind him to the door. “Breaking into my castle, my home, then lying about it. And to top it off, you just insult me in my own home!”
The hallways were dark and drafty. Outside, the wind howled around the Castle’s corners. “Stop!” the girl shrieked. “Stop! You’re hurting me! Where are you taking me?”
He heard the panic in her voice, even though all the bravado she had shown him. He swiftly spun around, stepped into her, pushing her against the Castle’s cold, stone wall. Her head bumped into the wall, making her grimace. “You think you can get away with this? With mocking me in my face? Think again, sweetheart! You’re mine now, I’ll do with you as I please!”
He noticed how her gaze drifted away from his eyes. Felt it burn on his skin, over his face, his neckline, down until it lingered at the base of his neck. He felt the black diamond that adorned it tighten, felt it burn into his skin and he tried to take breath, but couldn’t.
He pushed her backwards again, into the stone wall and turned to inhale deeply, to try and regain some of his composure, but knew it wouldn’t do anything.
“You came here for this, didn’t you?” he grasped the stone, and yanked it from his neck to dangle it right in front of her eyes. “Too bad I keep it close, very, very close. You’ll have to kill me before you’ll get it, Love!”
