wolf, but I didn't really believe it."
"Aye, miss, 'tis true enough."
Rhianna sat up and tucked the covers under her arms. "Why did he do it? Kill that sheep, I mean?"
"It's his way when what he is becomes too painful to endure. There was a time when he took his anger out on mortals, but he's not killed anyone since I've been with him."
"I didn't mean to hurt him," Rhianna said again. "I'd forgotten he could read my mind."
"It's natural for you to be repulsed by what he is."
"I suppose so."
"Will you be leaving this morning?"
"I don't know." She stared out the window. The curtains were open, and she could see the beginning of a new day. The sky was pale blue, splashed with vivid hues of gold and pink and crimson.
He hadn't seen the sun in over four hundred years...
"Bevins, I want you to go into town for me. I need some new brushes."
He woke as he always did, coming instantly awake, his senses reaching out to explore the castle. Bevins was in the kitchen preparing dinner. A stew of some kind, heavily flavored with onions and thyme.
Was she gone? Sitting up, he probed for her presence. Her life force beckoned him like a candle shining in the darkness. For a moment, he closed his eyes, his relief at knowing she was still there almost painful in its intensity. Perversely, he wondered why she hadn't left when she'd had the chance.
Rising, he dressed quickly, then hurried down the winding staircase, his passing no more than a blur of movement on the darkened stairway.
When he reached the bottom landing, he paused and took a deep breath.
She was in the dining room.
He took hold of his cloak, rubbing the soft velvet between his thumb and forefinger, wondering how he could face her after last night. She had not yet seen him at his worst, when the blood lust was on him, when his eyes were sunken and burning with need. She had not seen him then, when he looked more monster than man, when his skin was stretched paper thin and the hunger clawed at his vitals, demanding to be fed.
But what she had seen last night was bad enough. With his emotions raw with hurt and longing, he had taken on the wolf form and killed one of the sheep. He had ripped out the animal's throat, hoping to alleviate his frustration in a burst of violence and bloodshed. Until last night, no one, save Bevins, had ever seen him like that.
He took a deep breath, chiding himself for his cowardice. He had to face her sometime.
She looked up as he entered the room. Her smile was forced, and her eyes reflected a myriad of emotions: fear, pity, compassion, anxiety.
"Good evening, my lord," Bevins said, breaking the heavy silence.
Rayven nodded curtly, and Bevins left the room. He returned a few moments later bearing a heavy silver decanter and a crystal goblet.
Rhianna's gaze was drawn to the thick red liquid as Bevins filled the goblet and placed it in front of his master.
Rayven met Rhianna's gaze as he lifted the glass. Slowly, deliberately, he took a long swallow, savoring the thick, slightly salty taste of the warm liquid.
Try as she might, Rhianna could not suppress a shudder of revulsion as he drained the goblet, then placed the glass on the table.
Wordlessly, Bevins lifted the decanter and refilled the goblet.
Rayven lifted his glass, his gaze capturing Rhianna's as he stared at her over the finely cut crystal. "Why are you still here?" he demanded brusquely.
"Because I wish to be here, my lord," she replied, her voice barely audible. "Because you need me."
"I don't need you, or your pity," he said, his voice razor sharp. "I don't need anyone."
"Don't you?"
He lifted the goblet and consumed the contents in one long swallow. "Get out," he said brusquely. "Out of my sight. Out of my house!"
Rhianna stared at him a moment, stunned by the harshness in his voice, by the barely suppressed rage blazing in the ebony depths of his eyes. She didn't stop to wonder if his anger was directed at her or himself. Frightened and confused, she lurched to her feet and ran out of the room.
The sound of her footsteps flying up the stone stairs echoed like thunder in his ears.
"What have I done?" he whispered brokenly. "What have I done?"
"My lord, the wedding is to take place tomorrow night."
Rayven stared into his empty goblet. A few bright drops of liquid clung to