moment longer,
facing down his adversary. He would have loved to show Harold just
how capable he was. Aurora’s insistent tugs begged him to leave. He
chanced a look at her. Her eyes were wide with concern, her lovely
brow creased with worry as she stared at Harold. Damien couldn’t
stand seeing her so frightened. She looked at him then with
imploring eyes, and Damien knew exactly what he was going to do.
Nothing. The anguish on Aurora’s face was not worth the price. He
wasn’t here to fight this conceited knight. He wasn’t here to prove
himself to these people.
He saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
Harold’s punch landed hard against Damien’s jaw, rocking his head,
forcing him to take a step back.
Damien never once relinquished his hold on
Aurora’s hand.
“Damien!” Aurora called in alarm.
Damien pulled her behind him, rage swirling
inside him. The coppery taste of blood seeped into his mouth, but
he ignored it.
“An adequate bodyguard would have seen that
coming,” Harold mocked.
“Damien,” Aurora repeated, half begging, half
gasping.
Damien spared her a glance. The tears in her
eyes only fed the stirring beast inside him, demanding revenge.
“Stay here,” Damien commanded.
With no indication, he suddenly rushed
Harold, catching his tunic in curved fists, and slamming him hard
into the fence. The wooden post bent beneath the impact, but Damien
didn’t let go as he pushed himself close to Harold. “An adequate
bodyguard would never have risked hurting Aurora like you just did.
Had I ducked, you would have hit her.”
Harold pushed forward, but Damien smashed him
back against the fence again, holding him immobile. “Aurora is my
responsibility. Go near her again and you will not live to see the
sun set.”
Harold’s gaze shifted to Aurora.
How dare he even look at her! Damien felt a
moment of pure, raw animalistic rage and shoved him aside, being
sure to put enough force in the movement so Harold ended up on the
dusty ground. “I will not risk Aurora’s life for your
entertainment. Even the lowliest of knights would know that.” He
whirled, knowing Harold’s pride would not stand for him to be so
degraded. And Damien was right. He heard the sound of a sword being
drawn. He saw Aurora jerk forward.
Damien baited the knight on purpose. The way
Harold looked at Aurora, as if he desired her, as if he had a right
to her, as if he could protect her better than Damien, sent waves
of blind anger through Damien.
The small cry of warning that issued from her
lips pulled at his heart. He was suddenly very afraid she would
rush forward in a feeble attempt to save him. He held up a hand to
her, motioning for her to remain where she was, and then he let
instinct take over.
He ducked and the sword hissed over his head
like an angry snake. He whirled, lashing out with his foot,
connecting solidly with Harold’s mid-section.
Harold fell to the ground, landing hard on
his back.
Damien was on him before he had a chance to
recover, pushing Harold’s own sword, in his own hand, against his
throat. It would have been child’s play to finish him. A simple
movement of the arrogant knight’s own wrist and the sword tip would
drive into Harold’s throat. The demon inside him cried out for
gratification. It was used to getting what it wanted.
Time froze. Harold’s eyes widened, filling
with the knowledge that Damien was more than capable of following
up on his promise. He was a killer. That was what he did. Damien
felt Aurora’s gaze on him and hesitated. Would she look at him the
same if he easily and swiftly snuffed out the life of one of her
guard?
Turmoil whirled around Damien and he pushed
himself off of Harold, backing up two steps.
Harold sat up, his jaw clenched tight, his
cheeks red. He held his sword on the ground, in acquiescence.
Silence surrounded Damien as he towered above
the overconfident knight. He looked up. It was not the gazes of the
knights he sought. It was not Helen
facing down his adversary. He would have loved to show Harold just
how capable he was. Aurora’s insistent tugs begged him to leave. He
chanced a look at her. Her eyes were wide with concern, her lovely
brow creased with worry as she stared at Harold. Damien couldn’t
stand seeing her so frightened. She looked at him then with
imploring eyes, and Damien knew exactly what he was going to do.
Nothing. The anguish on Aurora’s face was not worth the price. He
wasn’t here to fight this conceited knight. He wasn’t here to prove
himself to these people.
He saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
Harold’s punch landed hard against Damien’s jaw, rocking his head,
forcing him to take a step back.
Damien never once relinquished his hold on
Aurora’s hand.
“Damien!” Aurora called in alarm.
Damien pulled her behind him, rage swirling
inside him. The coppery taste of blood seeped into his mouth, but
he ignored it.
“An adequate bodyguard would have seen that
coming,” Harold mocked.
“Damien,” Aurora repeated, half begging, half
gasping.
Damien spared her a glance. The tears in her
eyes only fed the stirring beast inside him, demanding revenge.
“Stay here,” Damien commanded.
With no indication, he suddenly rushed
Harold, catching his tunic in curved fists, and slamming him hard
into the fence. The wooden post bent beneath the impact, but Damien
didn’t let go as he pushed himself close to Harold. “An adequate
bodyguard would never have risked hurting Aurora like you just did.
Had I ducked, you would have hit her.”
Harold pushed forward, but Damien smashed him
back against the fence again, holding him immobile. “Aurora is my
responsibility. Go near her again and you will not live to see the
sun set.”
Harold’s gaze shifted to Aurora.
How dare he even look at her! Damien felt a
moment of pure, raw animalistic rage and shoved him aside, being
sure to put enough force in the movement so Harold ended up on the
dusty ground. “I will not risk Aurora’s life for your
entertainment. Even the lowliest of knights would know that.” He
whirled, knowing Harold’s pride would not stand for him to be so
degraded. And Damien was right. He heard the sound of a sword being
drawn. He saw Aurora jerk forward.
Damien baited the knight on purpose. The way
Harold looked at Aurora, as if he desired her, as if he had a right
to her, as if he could protect her better than Damien, sent waves
of blind anger through Damien.
The small cry of warning that issued from her
lips pulled at his heart. He was suddenly very afraid she would
rush forward in a feeble attempt to save him. He held up a hand to
her, motioning for her to remain where she was, and then he let
instinct take over.
He ducked and the sword hissed over his head
like an angry snake. He whirled, lashing out with his foot,
connecting solidly with Harold’s mid-section.
Harold fell to the ground, landing hard on
his back.
Damien was on him before he had a chance to
recover, pushing Harold’s own sword, in his own hand, against his
throat. It would have been child’s play to finish him. A simple
movement of the arrogant knight’s own wrist and the sword tip would
drive into Harold’s throat. The demon inside him cried out for
gratification. It was used to getting what it wanted.
Time froze. Harold’s eyes widened, filling
with the knowledge that Damien was more than capable of following
up on his promise. He was a killer. That was what he did. Damien
felt Aurora’s gaze on him and hesitated. Would she look at him the
same if he easily and swiftly snuffed out the life of one of her
guard?
Turmoil whirled around Damien and he pushed
himself off of Harold, backing up two steps.
Harold sat up, his jaw clenched tight, his
cheeks red. He held his sword on the ground, in acquiescence.
Silence surrounded Damien as he towered above
the overconfident knight. He looked up. It was not the gazes of the
knights he sought. It was not Helen
Similar Books
