her.
A dark figure approached, carrying a torch. Arya squinted, hoping to get a better look at her visitor. He was not overly tall and appeared to have a much smaller frame than most warriors, but she could not make out his features. As he moved closer, the stench of death and decay permeating from every inch of the dungeon was suddenly replaced by the scent of rose water and mint. A far cry better than the sickening odor of unwashed flesh and foul breath she’d endured when Niall tried to kiss her. This was a man of high standing, of that she was certain.
“Well now, I see they have you chained to a wall. How unfortunate.” The man raised the torch, then dragged his knuckle down her cheek. “Such a shame to have a comely creature hidden away in a deplorable place like this.” He brought a square of perfumed linen to his nose and inhaled. “The cell is absolutely ghastly. And the putrid scent is enough to make a man, or woman in your case,” he quickly added, “ill. However do you stand it?”
“I dinna have any choice.”
“Nay, I dinna suppose you do at that,” he said with a snicker.
He held the torch a little higher, and she could finally see his face. He was not an attractive man by any stretch of the imagination, with a protruding forehead, gaunt cheeks, large aquiline nose, and thin lips.
“I suppose you are wondering who I am, and why I have come to visit you in this hellhole.” He grinned, revealing a set of straight white teeth.
“It matters not who you are,” Arya replied. “You could be a king, and I still wouldna care. Not unless you are here to set me free and allow me to be on my way.”
“I will tell you regardless. I’m Mason Campbell. My father is the Lord of Argyll, and you, my dear, are his prisoner.”
“You came down here to tell me that?” Arya shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Unless—” She paused, her blood running cold when the thought of the likely reason sprang to mind. “Do you plan to rape me? If so, I’ll warn you, I willna submit without a fight.”
“Do you honestly think I would bed you here? In this disgusting place, with you smelling like gutter swill? I hardly think so.” He brought the scented square to his nose again.
“Then why did you come?”
“Curiosity.” Mason cocked his head while he studied her from top to bottom.
“I dinna understand.”
“I heard you were a lass of rare beauty and I wanted to see for myself. But the rumors dinna do you justice.” After placing the torch in a sconce on the wall, he stepped closer, and wrapped his fingers around her throat. “Lets see what else you have to offer, aside from a comely face, shall we?” He slid his free hand inside the front of her trews, cupping her sex.
Arya twisted against her bonds, yanking on the chains until the shackles bit into her flesh and blood dripped down her forearms. “Dinna touch me. I may be your father’s prisoner, but you have no right to lay hand to me.” The words escaped before she could stop them.
He laughed. “I hardly think you are in any position to object to my advances, or to stop me.” He nipped at her neck, then jabbed his fingers into her most intimate place. “You are as tight as a falconer’s glove. It has been a while since I sampled a virgin.”
Arya bit the inside of her cheek and stared straight ahead. And while she wanted to cut out his heart and serve it to his father on a platter—and would if the opportunity presented itself—she was helpless to do anything. Where all the men in the Campbell clan disgusting swine?
“As tempting as fucking you now may sound, that was not the reason I came to your cell. Mason withdrew his hand and took a step back. “Care to hazard a guess?”
She remained silent, avoiding eye contact.
“Are you not in the least bit curious?” He twisted a strand of her hair around his fist, then snapped her head back. “You are a feisty wench in serious need of taming. True, I could pummel you now if I
A dark figure approached, carrying a torch. Arya squinted, hoping to get a better look at her visitor. He was not overly tall and appeared to have a much smaller frame than most warriors, but she could not make out his features. As he moved closer, the stench of death and decay permeating from every inch of the dungeon was suddenly replaced by the scent of rose water and mint. A far cry better than the sickening odor of unwashed flesh and foul breath she’d endured when Niall tried to kiss her. This was a man of high standing, of that she was certain.
“Well now, I see they have you chained to a wall. How unfortunate.” The man raised the torch, then dragged his knuckle down her cheek. “Such a shame to have a comely creature hidden away in a deplorable place like this.” He brought a square of perfumed linen to his nose and inhaled. “The cell is absolutely ghastly. And the putrid scent is enough to make a man, or woman in your case,” he quickly added, “ill. However do you stand it?”
“I dinna have any choice.”
“Nay, I dinna suppose you do at that,” he said with a snicker.
He held the torch a little higher, and she could finally see his face. He was not an attractive man by any stretch of the imagination, with a protruding forehead, gaunt cheeks, large aquiline nose, and thin lips.
“I suppose you are wondering who I am, and why I have come to visit you in this hellhole.” He grinned, revealing a set of straight white teeth.
“It matters not who you are,” Arya replied. “You could be a king, and I still wouldna care. Not unless you are here to set me free and allow me to be on my way.”
“I will tell you regardless. I’m Mason Campbell. My father is the Lord of Argyll, and you, my dear, are his prisoner.”
“You came down here to tell me that?” Arya shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Unless—” She paused, her blood running cold when the thought of the likely reason sprang to mind. “Do you plan to rape me? If so, I’ll warn you, I willna submit without a fight.”
“Do you honestly think I would bed you here? In this disgusting place, with you smelling like gutter swill? I hardly think so.” He brought the scented square to his nose again.
“Then why did you come?”
“Curiosity.” Mason cocked his head while he studied her from top to bottom.
“I dinna understand.”
“I heard you were a lass of rare beauty and I wanted to see for myself. But the rumors dinna do you justice.” After placing the torch in a sconce on the wall, he stepped closer, and wrapped his fingers around her throat. “Lets see what else you have to offer, aside from a comely face, shall we?” He slid his free hand inside the front of her trews, cupping her sex.
Arya twisted against her bonds, yanking on the chains until the shackles bit into her flesh and blood dripped down her forearms. “Dinna touch me. I may be your father’s prisoner, but you have no right to lay hand to me.” The words escaped before she could stop them.
He laughed. “I hardly think you are in any position to object to my advances, or to stop me.” He nipped at her neck, then jabbed his fingers into her most intimate place. “You are as tight as a falconer’s glove. It has been a while since I sampled a virgin.”
Arya bit the inside of her cheek and stared straight ahead. And while she wanted to cut out his heart and serve it to his father on a platter—and would if the opportunity presented itself—she was helpless to do anything. Where all the men in the Campbell clan disgusting swine?
“As tempting as fucking you now may sound, that was not the reason I came to your cell. Mason withdrew his hand and took a step back. “Care to hazard a guess?”
She remained silent, avoiding eye contact.
“Are you not in the least bit curious?” He twisted a strand of her hair around his fist, then snapped her head back. “You are a feisty wench in serious need of taming. True, I could pummel you now if I
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