WolfeBlade: de Wolfe Pack Generations by Kathryn Veque (top 20 books to read .TXT) 📗

Gavriella was wet and cold and hungry, and her left arm hurt where they man had yanked on her. Cradling her arm against her body, she turned around and began to walk. She didn’t know where she was going, but she began to walk. Tears streaked down her cheeks and her thoughts were those of utter despair.

Still, she walked. And walked.

Mud coated the bottom of the pretty red silk and covered her slippers. The tears turned into sobs and as she walked, she wept over everything her life had become. Tears she’d held off, trying to be brave, had found an outlet. She found herself hoping an outlaw would come out of the shadows and put her out of her misery.

Surely what awaited her in the afterlife was better than the cesspool of grief her life had become.

After what had happened last year, no decent man would want her now. She could not hope for an advantageous marriage. She couldn’t even hope for a simple but honorable knight, like the man who called himself Wolf, to marry. A decent man who would overlook what had happened to her. A decent man who might even care for her.

But she realized that she wasn’t worth caring for.

No man had a shred of respect for her.

Gavriella had no idea how long or how far she had walked. Her life was swept up in misery that was consuming her as a blaze consumes kindling. She was freezing cold and wet from the fog, her long blonde hair saturated with mist. She wept and walked, not focusing on anything in particular, until she came to the shoreline.

She’d ended up by the river.

The river…

Gavriella looked off over the fog-bound waters of the Thames. She couldn’t see much because of the mist, but she could see enough. The cold, silent river was beckoning to her. It seemed peaceful there, far from the hell she had endured this past year. Perhaps that dirty river was her salvation from her living and breathing hell.

Perhaps it was her only way out.

God forgive her.

And with that, she climbed down from the street and onto the narrow, rocky riverbank. Her first step into the water was freezing, but it didn’t matter. She took another step and another. The river was smelly and icy cold. It had a nasty, slimy bottom, but still, she continued to walk into the water until she took one step too far, slipped over a ledge, and went right into a hole.

Freezing, blissful death awaited, or at least she thought so until she held her breath so long that she needed air, but all she managed to suck in was a mouthful of water. Panic filled her. Perhaps this wasn’t the peace she had hoped for. Perhaps she wasn’t brave enough to withstand the pain before the calm overtook her. She started to thrash, but unable to swim, she gulped in more water.

Daggers filled her lungs as everything gradually turned to black.

CHAPTER SIX

The village of Deadwater

“You are the physic in this village. You would know if a child was born.”

Two heavily armed knights, father and son, had shoved their way into his cottage this morning. As a soft mist had embraced the rolling hills of the border, men armed for war had charged into the village and had come straight to the physic’s cottage. They’d slapped around the old couple, the man and his wife, before tossing the wife in a corner and shoving the old man into a chair.

Now, they stood over him, posturing threateningly.

But the old man didn’t flinch.

“Not everyone summons a physic for the birth a child,” he said steadily, even though there was a trickle of red coming from the corner of his mouth. “Midwives are summoned most often.”

The younger of the pair, a nasty brute called Nicholas by the older man, glared at him. “But you are summoned to care for the people at Falstone Castle, are you not?” he demanded. “The child would have been born at Falstone to Merek de Leia’s daughter.”

The physic blinked as if surprised by the information. “I did not hear of a child born there, nor did I attend it.”

“Who is the midwife around here?”

“My wife is, but she did not attend the birth, either.”

The pair immediately turned their venom on the old woman, who cowered in the corner.

“Well?” Nicholas demanded. “What do you have to say about all of this?”

While the husband was quite brave, the wife was a sniveling mess. They’d struck her on her round cheeks, frightening her more than they really injured her, but she was terrified. She put up an arm as if to shield herself from them.

“I did not attend a birth at Falstone,” she said, her voice quaking. “But I did hear that two children were born there this past spring. I did not attend either one.”

Nicholas looked at the older man. “One of them has to be it, Father,” he muttered. “She would have given birth sometime in April.”

The older man eyed his son before running his fingers through his graying hair. “The merchant who passed through our lands a few months ago confirmed that he saw de Leia’s daughter with child, so we know that she conceived,” he muttered, keeping his voice down so the physic wouldn’t hear him. “But if the midwife knows nothing about the birth, we should send her to find out. It is her duty, after all, to tend the women and infants in this area. An inquiry to Falstone would not be out of the ordinary.”

Nicholas liked that idea. Ever since he’d cornered Merek de Leia’s daughter in the village those months ago and molested her in a nearby livery with his hands covering her screams of pain, he knew he’d done everything a man does to beget a child. He filled the woman with his seed and told her if she spoke of his assault that he would return to kill her.