Chapter 1
Ronan
The first thing Ronan saw when he opened his eyes, was complete darkness. He blinked a few times, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He must’ve been out for hours, feeling his head pounding, he’d been walloped good. He wriggled his hands, but they were immovably stuck, bound by a tight rope around his wrists to the beam above him. He grunted, the rope burning into his skin.
Slowly, the last memories he had before it all turned black came back to him. How he had walked over the market square, hidden between the crowds.
Or so he thought.
When he tried to turn into the closest alleyway to slip away, he walked into a wall of a man.
Instantly he was surrounded by men in rags, with broken teeth and unkempt hair. A gang of some sort, he thought at first. But now, he knew better. These were the thugs that were going to bring him to Lord Blackthorn.
He immediately punched the 'wall' in the gut, doubling him over. He’d handed out punches like a man possessed. But soon enough, he grew tired, while these men overpowered him by numbers alone.
Ronan jolted when he heard movement along the back wall in front of him. He squinted, trying to see what he heard. The object too heavy, so it wasn't a rat, or a mouse. He gripped the rope above him, ready to fight back, ready for anything coming his way.
Slowly, he saw a figure sitting up, stretch, arms spread, and look around sleepily. A girl, maybe a woman, young, slim and, God, dressed in nothing but her chemise and corset.
She was dirty. Even in the little light there was, he could see it. Grimy, bed hair and smears of blood on the white fabric of her chemise. She didn’t look like a whore, too dishevelled, too bloody. No, was she taken capture just like him? Had they abused her, assaulted her, violated her?
When she finally looked up, she froze when their eyes met. She didn’t speak, but slowly rose and closed the distance between them.
“Who are you?” Her voice was quiet and hoarse. She looked him over with a frown, her blue eyes darkening.
“No one worth knowin’.” He rasped. His throat dry as the dust on the floor. Her gaze fell on his chest. Sometime along the road from the marketplace to this barn, they had taken his shirt. His tanned chest was on full display, and bruising was already starting to form. For the inexperienced girl she seemed to be, a sight to see.
“Goin’ to take advantage of me, are ya? If so, fair’s fair, let me see a bit of yours, too.”
Her trembling hand reached out, and gently, slowly, traced the lines of his bruises. “What happened to you?” Her voice was barely a whisper. But he heard the shock clear enough.
“You shouldn’t get yourself into more trouble than you already are. Being seen with me isn’t going to do you any good. Quite the opposite, honestly.”
When she looked up once more and their gazes met, a shiver ran over his spine. Her eyes, they were filled with grief, with hurt, combined with a hint of strong determination. "I need to find a way to get out of here." Her eyes never left his. "If I can find a way to free you, would you help me?"
He shook his head. "Didn't you just hear what I said? I'm no good for you. You don't want me near you. I'm filth, I'm no more than the dirt beneath a man's boot. Don't ask me this."
"But are you strong enough to get us out of here? Would you help me?"
Once more he shook his head and started to speak. "A bhean, you—" but his words cut off when she traced the muscles in his arm with a finger, her touch light as a feather.
"You sure look strong enough."
He froze.
The touch made the hair on his arms rise like soldiers standing in line. He yanked on the ropes to get away from her touch. He didn’t want to think of what her touch, the innocence in her eyes, did to him. “Jaysus Christ, a bhean. I could kill ye right now with just my legs. I’ve half a mind to do it, if only to shut you up. He gritted through his teeth. “But I’m warnin’ ye. Walk away. Leave me. You don’t want my demons crawling into your shadow.”
She took a step back, looked him on the eyes for a long time, then slowly turned.
Ronan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Thank God, was the only thing he could think. The heat he felt when she touched him, was scorching him from the inside out. If she had continued, he’d have chewed his own hands off only to be able touch her back. Hell, to make her his.
He opened his eyes again when he heard the scraping of something over the floor. The girl whose name he still didn’t know, was pulling a wooden trunk towards him. He cursed. What was she doing now?
“What in the devil are you doing, a bhean? Are ye out of your mind?” She straightened just long enough to shoot him a silencing glare, then moved on moving that trunk.
Once close enough she stepped on it, and reached for the knot above his head. “Woman! What are you doing?” He hissed. “If they see you here with me, what do you think they will do to you?”
She looked at him to give him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Nothing they haven’t done to me already.”
He froze when she reached and her breath fanned his ear. It did wild things with his mind, and his tumbling thoughts made him close his eyes.
That was a mistake.
In his mind he saw how she bit his ear, how she ran her hands down his chest, lower, over his taut abdomen, and even further down. His mind ran away with him.
"A bhean," he growled. "Hurry up, or I'll forget I'm bound and take you here like the thugs that patrol the perimeter."
"Almost done." Her hoarse voice beside his head made him jerk and one hand landed on his. "You have to hold still, though."
He jerked once more, tugging on the ropes, that had significantly loosened. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, a bhean, hurry up. Jaysus have mercy!"
Finally, after a few more minutes of this torture, his hands came loose, and he groaned when he lowered them. Having them up in the air, they were numb and his shoulders painfully stiff.
It was that moment that they both stiffened when they heard a rustle form the corner of the barn. Without thinking, he lunged up, grabbed her by the waist and hauled her to the closest wall. Shielding her from anything that could harm her, he pushed her against it, trapping her between his arms.
Footsteps neared, halted near the place where Ronan's ropes hung uselessly in the air, then a voice let out a string of curses. "The goddamn bastards’ gone! How the hell did he get to get away? Get the boss!"
Ronan stepped even closer into her, one arm lowering to her hip to hold her in place. He held his breath, as he leaned in, his head in the crook of her neck.
He felt her shiver under him, and a hand landed on his chest. Her heard her inhale a breath, saw how she opened her mouth. But before she could make any sound, he pressed his mouth to hers, drowning out any sound threatening to escape.
The footsteps retreated again, halted by the door, then disappeared. Instantly, Ronan stepped back, the girl swayed on her feet, looking dreamily up in his eyes.
His jaw tightened, now was not the time to fall in love. They had to move, quickly.
He looked from left to right, his ears pricked up to hear every little whisper, but heard nothing. Slowly, he slid down the wall, towards the door, pulling her after him.
Just at that moment, another guard stepped into the barn, immediately spotted the two captives, and hollered for the others. Ronan squared his shoulders, cracked his neck and was ready to fight instantly.
The man wasn't a threat, with one punch the guard was blown from his feet and knocked out.
Ronan stealthily walked to the door, peeked around it and held his breath. Another two guards came to their friends’ aid with big gestures and loud voices. With his right hand he blindly gripped the girl behind him, but caught nothing but air. He jerked back, looked around and saw the girl fumbling with the belt of the guard.
What in the devil was she doing now? There was no time to violate the guard, or take revenge.
“God almighty, get back here!” He hissed, but his words fell on deaf-ears. When she kept on undressing the man, he gritted his teeth, looked around for threats, then stepped over and yanked her back on her feet, only to be met with a razor-sharp dagger pointed at his throat.
“Whoa, careful there.” He smirked at the fire he saw burning in her eyes. Then he felt a hard object pushed hard in his abdomen and as he lowered his gaze, he realised it was the hilt of a short sword.
“Take it,” she spat, “or haven’t you learned how to use it?”
His grin disappeared like snow before the sun. He nodded, took the sword from her and pulled her to him. For a moment everything else around him disappeared, there was just her and her eyes as blue as the deepest sea.
Then, he kissed her hard, punishing, bruising her lips. “You’re playing with fire, a bhean,” he breathed just before he pulled away and peeked outside the barn.
