Heir Untamed - By Danielle Bourdon Page 0,76

of the old castle. Chey chided herself for feeling like she was letting go of something special, of wondering what might have been. Some day, Sander would rule all this. The history of the events in the ruins before her was part of Sander's ancestry, had shaped the generations leading to his birth. It was awe inspiring, intimidating and fascinating all at the same time.

Cutting the lights and the engine, she zipped her coat up higher toward her throat, pulled the keys from the ignition and climbed out. Although the snow had stopped, she could feel tiny needles of sleet pelting her cheeks. A light spray that could very well grow thicker and heavier before midnight. Sander's Jeep wasn't here yet, but she decided to wait inside out of the immediate cold. The door might be locked, but the arching shape of windows with no panes allowed her access anyway. Sliding over the stone sill, she straightened and glanced around the great hall. Digging the flashlight out of her pocket, she snapped it on and shined it over the ceiling and the walls.

She still couldn't believe she'd slept with the heir to the throne. The man who would inherit the highest seat of power in the land. She'd canoed with him, laughed with him, played games with him. Sander had allowed her to glimpse pieces of himself he probably wasn't able to show many people. She hated the sorrowful pang that lanced through her for the talk to come.

Meandering into the tall foyer, she was about to lean against the archway and wait when the flashlight beam passed over a piece of paper on the floor. Walking to it, certain it hadn't been there on her last visit, she bent to pick it up.

South tower.

Sander must have been dropped off, thinking he would catch a ride back to the cabin with her. And wasn't that arrogant of him, to just assume she would forgive and forget and hop right back into bed with him?

“I really don't think this is funny,” she muttered to herself. Stuffing the note away, she climbed the stairs to the second level and from there hit the other stairs that would take her to the South tower. A gust of chill wind blew through one of the windows on her way up, making her shiver.

Good grief it was cold.

Arriving at the door to Andra's old room, she pushed it open and stepped in.

“I don't know why you're making this all dramatic and poignant by bringing me up here.” The spear of light landed on a masculine silhouette standing at the window. Looking out, like he was contemplating things.

For whatever reason, the posture struck Chey as solemn, maudlin. It tugged at her heartstrings. The beam cut across a few strands of golden hair before she snapped the light off. Tucking the flashlight in her pocket, she approached and stood directly behind him.

“Sander, look...” Trailing, she set her hands on his waist over the thick coat he wore. She shouldn't be touching him, shouldn't allow her heart to ache over the treachery he had wrought. This could have been avoided, she repeated to herself. Just then, as Sander turned his chin toward his shoulder to peer at her with one eye, Chey realized what her subconscious had been trying to tell her ever since she entered the tower.

Something was off. It was the shape of him under the coat, his height, even the breadth of his shoulders. Now that she was almost pressed up against his back, Chey discovered that he was too short, too stocky, and the eye that peered at her over his shoulder wasn't blue, but black. Or so dark brown the shadow made it look black.

Either way, she let go all of a sudden and stumbled backward. He turned, proving as his features were briefly illuminated in the faint overcast glow from the window, that he wasn't Sander at all.

“We did try to warn you,” the man said, his accent heavy and rolling.

Oh, this couldn't be happening.

Pivoting on a heel, Chey bolted for the open door. Just as she surged out onto the landing, a large hand clamped down on her shoulder and spun her around. She swung a fist as she went, a scream tearing up her throat.

The fist connected with a strong jaw but had little effect.

Trapping one arm against her side, the brute bulled her back into the tower room. Chey kicked at his knee, hard, causing the man to grunt