Bitten by Violet Heart Page B

eyebrows. "Nothing," she whispered. "All I can figure is it must've been horrifying. Eight men rode out on horseback, but one returned – injured and on foot. Upon his return the next morning, Ebenoral fell unconscious near town, his neck mangled on one side. He suffered a terrible fever. He was too weak to leave his bed for weeks."
    Amelia scooted to the edge of her seat. "Then what?" But some part of her knew already. He began to hunt.
    Her friend shook her head. "It was miraculous, really. We all thought he'd die of his wounds, but the servants said he disappeared from his bed one night. The next morning, he called upon his staff to serve breakfast in his sunroom. I saw him yesterday, and he didn't have a single mark on his neck. Not one. For the most part, though, he's kept to himself. You see, Lord Sir Malveaux was in that hunting party. Ebenoral has been grieving."
    Amelia hadn't even met him, but her heart broke for him. "Is that why he refuses to talk about what happened?"
    Yasmine hugged herself. "He says he can't recall." Her voice went quiet, making it difficult to hear her over the crunch of the wheels. "But we need him to remember."
    "So the families mourning the other men can have closure?"
    Yasmine slowly shook her head. "Because the livestock attacks have begun here in Rift."
    * * * *
    Ebenoral hid in shadow as the Hanswald carriage rolled by. Who was the lovely stranger, and why did she cause both a stirring in his loins and a burst of adrenaline? When her coach had entered town, he'd sensed her arrival. Desire burned through him at the sight of her blond curls. Her bright blue eyes had met his gaze, and he'd gone instantly hard.
    His cock still ached, though he'd regained control. A growl grumbled at the base of his throat. Okay, so he'd mostly gained control.
    He needed a drink, damn it, not some ninny girl straight out of deportment school. His body disagreed. It took umbrage to his thinking of her as a girl. The memory of lush breasts and flaring hips pushed to the fore. She was all woman.
    He turned on his heel and somehow managed a calm walk to the tree line edging the rear of town. From there, he raced through the woods at a speed still alarming to him. Ebenoral approached the castle-like manor his great grandfather had built. It belonged to him now, but at the price of his father's life. Too high a price.
    He fought a tightness in his chest. Without conscious intent, he brought to mind the newcomer's sensual features. Her full lips. Her large eyes. Her blond curls caressing high cheekbones and alabaster skin.
    The tightness faded, giving way to tense neck muscles and sweaty palms.
    He feared what he might do. Feared waking once again with a sense of, but no memory of, horrors he'd committed. Feared the full moon in two days.

 
     
     
    Chapter Two
     
    Amelia woke in a sweat. Her gaze went to her chamber window where a nearly full moon shone, bathing her bed in white light. She flipped off her covers and landed bare feet on a rich Persian rug. Her heart thumped insistently, partly from her most vivid dream yet, and partly from an overwhelming need to run, barefoot, in the night.
    She fisted her hands. Why could she never remember the details of these dreams that left her body throbbing? That left her wanting to escape the confines of her room?
    Snippets of the Rift River Valley. Flashing canines. Red eyes. It wasn't enough.
    She rose and went to her washstand. Tonight, the cool water washed away her sweat but offered no relief from her mysterious impatience. She went to her window and peered at the bucolic valley her view afforded. She needed to be out there. Now.
    At her door, she stopped with her hand on the knob. Only a fool would go out after such a tale as Yasmine told me. "And I'm no silly chit," she whispered, mesmerized as her hand turned the knob as if by its own will.
    I should go back to bed. The frilly hem of her white nightgown kissed her ankles with each step she took toward the grand