Seduced by the Beast Read Free Page A

appetite.  How can I trust you would not
do so again?”
                The absurdity of
her outrunning the hunters nearly made her laugh, especially considering her
current condition.  She would not be such a fool as to try again with their hunger
unappeased, but it seemed unlikely he would believe her assurances.  She was
loath to reveal her weakness, but much longer and she would be unable to hide
it from him.  “I can only assure you that I will not,” she said finally.
                He seemed to
consider her a long moment, then said, “Share with me but your name, and you
may walk freely.  Unless you enjoy my touch....”
                That he would
concede some ground was all the incentive she needed.  “Swan of Avonleigh,” she
said.
                He released her,
to her immense relief.  Swan cradled her left arm, terrified to feel the heat
of infection suffusing her hand.  It was as she’d feared.  Her steps slowed as
she probed the wound, hoping she was mistaken.  A sharp stab lanced up her arm
with the light touch, and she groaned without thinking.
                He stopped her
with a hand on her shoulder.  “What is wrong?”
                “Nothing.”
                He cursed in a
strange language.  “Do you make a habit of lying?”  He touched her hand, and
she gasped and stumbled against him.  Tears sprang to her eyes.
                “Who has dared
harm you?” he demanded angrily, gripping her shoulders.
                “Morvere....” she
whispered, clenching her eyes tightly shut.  She was fading away.  Faster and
faster.  Was day approaching?  Was she changing yet again?  It was her last
thought as warm arms closed tenderly around her.
     
    * * * *
     
                “What ails her?”
Arion asked, kneeling beside the fallen woman.  Her ragged garment had been
retrieved and draped around her shivering form.
                Raphael looked
down at her, his anger building.  “Other than an abundance of pride?  She is
injured.  Someone has broken the heart line ... taken her finger.”  He despised
the harming of women.  The pack members who had disobeyed his word were being
punished even now.  That he knew not who maimed her, and therefore could not exact
vengeance, infuriated him beyond measure.
                Arion spared him
a look before turning back to examine her.  “Sounds like foul magic to me.”
                “Yes,” Raphael
said.  It was undeniable that she was under an enchantment. Magic clung to her dark,
caramel skin like an invisible film.  He would have sensed it even if he had
not seen her change into the swan near the border firsthand.  He had ordered
his men to keep watch.  He had not expected they would give chase.  She’d
nearly paid for that misjudgment with her life.
                “It smells
unnatural, tainted by some magic.  Illness has set into the wound.  She is
likely to die if it worsens.”  Arion looked up at him, his face grave.  “We’ve
not the skill to care for humans, let alone one bewitched.”
                Beastmen had no
need of healers, for they had the ability to regenerate and heal their own
wounds.  “I know of another possibility.  But it cannot be done here.”
                “If it works, you
must teach me the skill that can break a spell,” Arion said.
                “If it does, all
beasts should learn.”
                He could spare
her the indignity of more exposure, but there was no guaranteeing what he
planned would even work.  The kharez was a phenomenon so rare, he’d only
heard of it happening once in the entirety of his life.  His friend, Blasien,
had been healed by just such and still knew not the nature of the kharez .
                A melding of
essence and sexuality--the basis of creation--the powerful