the environment he’d grown up in. And him finding her attractive made her even more of a problem.
Damn me to Hell. If only he hadnae made that stupid promise to Mariah when he was two-and-ten. All he was doing that night was trying to stay alive, trying to calm his fright at having to spend time with the most chilling of monsters known to his clan. Agreeing to be her savior, swearing his allegiance to her, seemed a sensible thing to the boy in him at that time.
If only he had realized how that one statement would change his future.
He shook his head.
The clatter of metal against stone grew louder as he stormed through the house’s underbelly; his mind possessed with images of Sarina Ogilvy—her lips, her smile, her mesmerizing amber eyes. Even her fiery temper ignited desire in him. The list of her fine attributes was endless, as were the visions that refused to leave his head. The worst of course were those that imagined the woman in his bed, her long golden hair free from the confines of pearl-topped pins, her warmth seeping into his bones, stirring his heart and his soul.
He’d kept a cold bed for far too long.
The chains rattled yet again.
Keeping his growing attraction for Sarina private, was proving difficult. And nae just where Lycansay Hall was concerned, but now Mariah was breaching the thin and only barrier that kept his soul separate from the house and the curse that ruled his bloodline for more than sixteen-hundred years.
He clutched his right fingers over the small wood figurine resting in his palm.
Mariah needed calming and there was only one way she’d get it.
With a heavy sigh, Campbell continued through the dank cellar until he’d reached the end of the corridor. The keys dangling from the large iron ring in his left hand, clanked.
Stopping suddenly at the portal that closed off Mariah’s apartments from the rest of Lycansay Hall, Campbell unlocked the door and waited.
Cold slammed his body, its ice-like hands quick to skim his face, from his eyes to his chin. Unseen chains rattled as the invisible fingers worked their way over his flesh.
“Mine,” a disembodied voice whispered.
Mariah never failed to recognize one born of her own blood. “Yes, Mariah. ‘Tis me. ‘Tis Campbell.”
A soft wail echoed.
He hated hearing her suffer such distress. Mariah had endured much loss in her short life, far more than anyone deserved, and certainly far more than he could have ever handled.
Campbell crouched. He opened his right hand and dropped the small wolf figurine he’d carved from a chunk of oak found in the nearby forest, onto the floor.
A second bout of cold caressed his space.
He lowered his gaze.
The wolf toy spun. Slowly at first, then faster as an icy vapor appeared nae more than mere inches from his booted feet.
The figurine instantly disappeared, its small body snatched by an invisible hand, the sound of wood dragging against stone echoing through the corridor.
The door slammed in his face.
Campbell fell backward, his breath catching as he landed on his spine.
As much as Mariah trusted him, he was still at her mercy. And being at the mercy of a cursed monster was a dangerous place to be when one had unsuspecting guests in the house. And even more so when one of those guests was a beautiful woman Mariah could easily become jealous of.
Taking in a deep gulp of air, Campbell rose. He glanced down. Mud accompanied by smeared lines of green moss, stained his trousers. The dungeons were a dirty, hideous place and a part of him hated that Mariah was bound to the godless space. He wondered what she was like in her prime. At one point in her life, he figured she must have been happy, looking forward to a life of joy with the man who’d given her his heart, and the child they were about to welcome into the world. Then the unthinkable happened.
Pain tore through his gut as he tried to imagine what it must have been like for Mariah on that fateful day when her world came shattering down, destroying everything she held dear.
Savages. The word emerged from the deepest depths of his soul just as it had on every other occasion where he’d attempted to make sense of what those barbarians had done over sixteen-hundred years ago.
Reaching out, he placed his palm against the door to Mariah’s chamber. In some ways, he and her were much alike. They’d both had their dreams stolen, turned into