Bitten by Violet Heart Page A

heavy, somber mood permeated the scene.
    She refused to let it deter her. She belonged here, even if she wasn't sure why.
    "Amelia!" Yasmine, a vision in lavender, exited the station building and stepped onto the platform. Her enormous satin and lace hat filled the doorway, brushing forest-green painted wood on both sides as she passed. It concealed her hair so completely that her dark eyebrows were the only clue she was brunette. Her silk and organza gown hugged in all the right places, and her organza-trimmed parasol knocked in time with her steps.
    "You came. I'm so glad." Amelia unfastened her sable-lined, black velvet cloak and draped it over an arm.
    Yasmine's gaze darted, and Amelia glanced over her own shoulder. What had her friend so nervous? It wasn't like her, especially since a burly manservant followed close at her heels. "It's good to see you, but didn't you get my letter?"
    "I got it." You'd think me crazy if I admitted I had to come. That I've dreamt of nothing for the last two months but running free and wild here in the Rift River Valley. "But it's all I've had to look forward to."
    "It's not safe for you." Yasmine placed a soft, warm hand on hers.
    I'm meant to be here. She dared not admit such a notion aloud. "Well, I'm not returning to England anytime soon."
    The coachman delivered her belongings to the platform, and Yasmine's servant immediately collected them. He lifted her trunk, with her satchel atop it, as if it weighed no more than a picnic basket.
    While he headed for the station door, Amelia cast a glance down the street, hoping she'd glimpse the man with orange eyes.
    "I really wish you hadn't come," said her friend.
    "Why? Don't you want my visit?" She half-joked. Yasmine and she were like sisters since their early days together at the ladies’ academy.
    "Of course you're always welcome. I love you. It's just that now isn't a good time." Her friend led the way through the station house and out to where her servant strapped the trunk atop a stately black and gold carriage bearing Yasmine's family coat of arms upon the door.
    Her driver assisted them inside then took his seat. The conveyance jostled as the manservant climbed off the roof and onto the back. A horse snuffled, the reins snapped, and they rolled from the station.
    Amelia grinned at her friend. "Did you miss me?"
    Yasmine's anxiety softened to a gracious smile. "You know I did. I think of you every day. Your bold mischief. Your brilliant quips. Your quick mind. I can't tell you how often I had wished you were beside me when I needed a fast comeback or a witty retort."
    "And here I am. So why isn't it safe?"
    Her friend lost her smile. She stared at passing landscape while tension pulled her pretty mouth tight. Then she sighed. "Shortly before I sent my letter, bad things started happening in the valley town of Schwarzberg. A single mountain range is all that separates us, so we were concerned."
    "What do you mean by 'bad things'?"
    "First, livestock were found dead, ravaged by a predator of some kind. Sheep. Goats. An occasional cow."
    "Upsetting, certainly, but this sometimes happens."
    Yasmine shook her head. "Two months ago, a man was found in the same manner as the livestock. We couldn't stand by any longer. Some of the men formed a hunting party and went after it." She took a shuddering breath.
    "Go on," urged Amelia, reaching across to grasp her friend's hand. It was the same time period in which her dreams had started. Unlikely as it seemed, could that hunt have something to do with her?
    "The attacks had always been at night, so they went during a full moon for the best light. It didn't help."
    "Why?"
    "Nobody knows what happened. That is, nobody but Ebenoral Malveaux, the son of Lord Sir Malger Malveaux. He was the only one who returned."
    The name, Ebenoral Malveaux, sent a tremor of pleasure low in her belly. "What does he say about that night?"
    Yasmine's chocolate-brown eyes went wide, her lashes reaching her arched