Chapter Ten #5
Allaston wasn’t intimidated. She was too emotional to care.
“Or what?” she countered as if daring him to make good on his threat.
“What will you do? Will you put me on a post as you did this woman? Then I say do it, do it now. You want to hurt my father, don’t you?
You want to draw him to Cloryn? Imagine how hurt and shattered he will be to see me on a pole by the gates.
You will put me there, of course, won’t you? In a place of honor to be seen by all?”
She was out of control and he shook her again. “Stop it,” he hissed. “Keep your mouth shut and get on your horse.”
Allaston shook her head, struggling to pull away from him.
“I will not,” she said. “I am not going anywhere with you. Lock me in the vault or put me on a pole as you did the rest of these poor people. I am not afraid of you, de Llion. You are a weak, pathetic man to do this to people who were only defending what belonged to them. You are a monster!”
Bretton almost struck her in that instance but something prevented it.
He wasn’t sure what because his emotions were running wild, but something stopped him from taking his hand to her.
Somehow, he just couldn’t do it. Still, she had embarrassed him, humiliated him, and there was only one way to deal with insubordination.
If he didn’t, he would lose the respect of his men and he knew it.
Men were watching him, men who would see any sign of weakness from him and exploit it.
He had no choice. Everything was building up inside him, thoughts and emotions that were threatening to explode in every direction.
Damn her! Pushing Allaston to the ground so that she fell squarely on her bum, he turned and marched for Lady Miette.
Bretton was a man of incredible strength.
It took him little time to push the pole down so that Miette was lying in the dirt.
Frustrated, infuriated, Bretton put a foot on the woman and held her firm as he yanked the pole out of her body, which wasn’t a great feat considering she was mostly a dried cluster of skin and bones at this point.
There was no blood, no innards. With the pole in his hands, he turned to Allaston, who was still sitting on the ground, watching him with a hysterical expression.
His features darkened as he marched over to her.
“Get onto your hands and knees,” he rumbled.
She looked up at him as if she didn’t understand the question. “I…?”
“I said roll over onto your hands and knees!”
He shouted it so loudly that it reverberated off the walls. Startled, and realizing what he was about to do, Allaston showed surprising control. Hysterical one moment to calm the next, she gazed at him steadily.
God’s Beard, had her mouth finally gotten her into trouble?
Had she finally signed her death warrant with her uncontrollable tongue?
Allaston could hardly believe it, but the proof was in front of her.
Bretton was poised and ready to move. He was ready to ram the pole into her body, in one end until it came out of the other.
She knew it was going to hurt. She understood the concept.
She just hoped she could bear the pain without pleading forgiveness from the man.
She’d rather die than ask for his forgiveness for what she said because she wasn’t sorry in the least. He was a monster.
Perhaps all of those silly notions about him having kindness and understanding beneath all of that warfare were just foolish dreams. Perhaps all of those feelings she thought she might have for him were simply bouts of madness.
“So you are going to kill me,” she said.
It was a statement, not a question. “I am not surprised. My death should not matter in the least to you considering how many people you have killed. When my father comes, you make sure to tell him that I met my death bravely. I am not afraid. At this moment, I have more courage than you do.”
Bretton was so angry that he was grinding his teeth. “We shall see,” he said. “Get on your hands and knees.”
She simply stared back at him, mulling over the command. After a moment, she shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “I will not make this easy for you.”
Her attitude was only serving to infuriate him more. “I will have my men hold you if that is your wish.”
She gaped at him, knowing he would probably do just that.
Her fight was with him, not with the men who would try to hold her down.
She didn’t want to lose control of the situation, not now.
She was coming to think that perhaps he wouldn’t impale her after all.
There was something in his eyes, some flicker deep in the brilliant blue depths that told her he had no intention of doing to her what he’d done to countless others.
The man had confided in her, protected her, and laughed with her for these past few weeks.
An odd relationship between a captor and captive.
Something told her he wasn’t going to kill her.
It was a hunch she had. She decided to play it.
Slowly, she rolled over onto her belly, propping herself up on her hands and knees with her buttocks facing him. If he was truly going to impale her, that would be the point of entry. Presenting her arse to him, she lowered her head and waited.
His response wasn’t long in coming.