Heart of Darkness by Jaide Fox Page B
Authors: Jaide Fox
Tags: Magic, paranormal romance, Historical Romance, Sidhe, faeries, fantasy romance, fairy, Historical paranormal romance, darkness, light, explicit, Erotic Paranormal Romance, magick, curse, erotic regency, jaide fox, dark hero
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it would free you from the curse that
follows you, no?” he asked quietly, but his left eyebrow was raised
curiously.
“I do not know what follows me.”
“Why then do you run and hide?”
She licked her lips and shrugged.
“So that I do not share the same fate as that
of my parents. Burning to death as they cry out in pain as their
home is decimated by flames about their very heads.” Again, her
shoulder jerked. “I'm the only one with the power to use it. If you
put it on, then I imagine it will either be lifeless or cause you
grievous harm.” Her tone implied that were he to place the ring on
his finger, she would wish the latter on him rather than the
former.
Wolfe chuckled at her and she had to hold
back the desire to roll her eyes at him. Honestly, she was not a
funny man on the stage! Why was he continually laughing at her? She
had said nothing that was even remotely amusing!
“I will return the ring to you...only if you
promise not to fight me anymore...what do you say to that,
Isabeau?” he asked quietly, but his voice was firm and she knew
that he was deadly serious.
Knowing that he would withhold the ring from
her, the item which had become her lifeline over the years, her
dependency upon it had grown in leaps and bounds, she had to
conform to his words. She did not like it and wished it weren't
necessary, but the ring was as vital to her being as was her
heart.
Without either of these two important things,
she simply could not function.
While the ring was naught but metal and
semi-precious stone, it had long become an almost external vital
organ. Already she could feel her soul searching frenetically for
the source of power which was placed on her heart finger. The beat
of her heart had increased and the pace of her breathing was slowly
becoming erratic.
Internally, she was starting to panic.
Nodding calmly and betraying none of her
inner agitation, she said, “I will not fight you.”
What she did not say, was that no, she would
not fight him...but only for the moment.
Chapter Four
The sudden dig of Wolfe's hands at her waist
jolted Isabeau out of her restless sleep. Sitting bolt right
upwards, she uttered a cry as the jerky move had her almost falling
off the bedamned saddle. With a grunt, she sank back against the
safety and support of Wolfe's body.
She had taken comfort against his long, lean
length hours ago and had argued over the propriety of resting on
his chest as though he were a pillow or a mattress, but fatigue had
swamped her and she'd damned propriety to hell.
What she would only admit to herself was the
fact that she had felt as though she belonged there. Which,
considering he was her captor, was bizarre to the extreme. But she
could not deny how wonderfully relaxing it had been to hear the
bum-bum of his heart and feel the slow depression of his chest as
he exhaled and the slight brush of his breath against the sensitive
flesh of her jaw.
It was peculiar, that she did know. But still, while inwardly she
could take pleasure from his touch, Isabeau knew that to show it
outwardly, would be a dangerous folly.
Her vision slowly grew sharper as the effects
of her slumber slowly disappeared and the first object she actually
saw was a large castle. It might not have been a castle, could have
been a manor house, but in their current location, its silhouette
in the dim moonlight was far too difficult to discern. All she
could see was a great, black blob but the fact that it was great,
told her it was a property of some standing. It appeared her captor
had wealth.
Isabeau was unsure as to whether that was
reassuring or not.
If he was wealthy, he could easily conceal
her abduction or even her murder by greasing the right palms. His
servants would be paid to turn the other cheek and not notice a
damn thing.
She licked her lips nervously at the
thought.
Now, if he were poor, there could be a
follows you, no?” he asked quietly, but his left eyebrow was raised
curiously.
“I do not know what follows me.”
“Why then do you run and hide?”
She licked her lips and shrugged.
“So that I do not share the same fate as that
of my parents. Burning to death as they cry out in pain as their
home is decimated by flames about their very heads.” Again, her
shoulder jerked. “I'm the only one with the power to use it. If you
put it on, then I imagine it will either be lifeless or cause you
grievous harm.” Her tone implied that were he to place the ring on
his finger, she would wish the latter on him rather than the
former.
Wolfe chuckled at her and she had to hold
back the desire to roll her eyes at him. Honestly, she was not a
funny man on the stage! Why was he continually laughing at her? She
had said nothing that was even remotely amusing!
“I will return the ring to you...only if you
promise not to fight me anymore...what do you say to that,
Isabeau?” he asked quietly, but his voice was firm and she knew
that he was deadly serious.
Knowing that he would withhold the ring from
her, the item which had become her lifeline over the years, her
dependency upon it had grown in leaps and bounds, she had to
conform to his words. She did not like it and wished it weren't
necessary, but the ring was as vital to her being as was her
heart.
Without either of these two important things,
she simply could not function.
While the ring was naught but metal and
semi-precious stone, it had long become an almost external vital
organ. Already she could feel her soul searching frenetically for
the source of power which was placed on her heart finger. The beat
of her heart had increased and the pace of her breathing was slowly
becoming erratic.
Internally, she was starting to panic.
Nodding calmly and betraying none of her
inner agitation, she said, “I will not fight you.”
What she did not say, was that no, she would
not fight him...but only for the moment.
Chapter Four
The sudden dig of Wolfe's hands at her waist
jolted Isabeau out of her restless sleep. Sitting bolt right
upwards, she uttered a cry as the jerky move had her almost falling
off the bedamned saddle. With a grunt, she sank back against the
safety and support of Wolfe's body.
She had taken comfort against his long, lean
length hours ago and had argued over the propriety of resting on
his chest as though he were a pillow or a mattress, but fatigue had
swamped her and she'd damned propriety to hell.
What she would only admit to herself was the
fact that she had felt as though she belonged there. Which,
considering he was her captor, was bizarre to the extreme. But she
could not deny how wonderfully relaxing it had been to hear the
bum-bum of his heart and feel the slow depression of his chest as
he exhaled and the slight brush of his breath against the sensitive
flesh of her jaw.
It was peculiar, that she did know. But still, while inwardly she
could take pleasure from his touch, Isabeau knew that to show it
outwardly, would be a dangerous folly.
Her vision slowly grew sharper as the effects
of her slumber slowly disappeared and the first object she actually
saw was a large castle. It might not have been a castle, could have
been a manor house, but in their current location, its silhouette
in the dim moonlight was far too difficult to discern. All she
could see was a great, black blob but the fact that it was great,
told her it was a property of some standing. It appeared her captor
had wealth.
Isabeau was unsure as to whether that was
reassuring or not.
If he was wealthy, he could easily conceal
her abduction or even her murder by greasing the right palms. His
servants would be paid to turn the other cheek and not notice a
damn thing.
She licked her lips nervously at the
thought.
Now, if he were poor, there could be a
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