Dark Warrior (Warrior #2) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Warrior Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
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Had he heard or spotted her? She waited for her fate to fall.

In seconds he mounted his horse and rode off and she remained in the cold water, shivering in relief. She would not dare leave its safety until she was sure Decimus was far away.

She waited and waited, then finally pulled herself out, her body trembling. She walked as softly and soundlessly as possible, hugging the water’s edge. Every now and again she thought she heard voices and she quickly sought the protection of the stream or within the dense branches of a willow until she was certain no one was near.

Was Michael safe? Did he know Decimus was near? The thought haunted her, but she had no time to worry over him; she had to make her way back to the castle, and then she had to warn Michael that Decimus was nearby.

Relief sent a final shiver to rack her body as she spied her clothes on the ground by the tree. It was near to nightfall. She had stopped many times and waited endlessly to make certain no one was near. She hurried into her skirt and blouse and slipped into her boots.

She shivered, feeling cold to her bones from the constant dunking in the cold stream and her close brush with the devil himself, Decimus.

She was almost to the castle when Michael stepped out of the shadows and she jumped.

“Where have you been?” His voice was harsh and filled with concern.

Mary was so relieved that she had survived her ordeal and that Michael was safe that she wanted to throw herself into his strong arms, but she knew that it was imperative that he be made aware of Decimus.

“Your hair is wet.” He grabbed hold of her hand. “Your skin wrinkled. You have been in the water.”

She nodded, her eyes round with fright.

He grabbed her by both arms. “What happened?”

He did not wait for an answer. He hurried her along to the castle with a firm hold of her arm. He gently shoved her down to sit on the bench in front of the hearth.

She quickly sought the fire’s heat, rubbing her hands together in front of the blazing flames. The warmth tickled her cold flesh and she shivered hard; it took several minutes before the flames’ heat began to penetrate her cold flesh and set to warming her.

He handed her a branch. “Tell me.”

Her hand shook as she wrote and he moved closer to her, wrapping his arm around her and pressing his body next to hers to share his heat.

Briefly she described her fall into the stream.

“You were naked in the water?”

She stared at him for she had purposely omitted that fact.

“Your garments are dry,” he said, explaining how he knew.

Foolish, she wrote.

“Very.”

His blunt, terse response told her he was angry.

“I told you to stay away from the stream.”

Foolish, she wrote again.

“More than foolish.”

She did not want to hear any more about that. It was imperative he know the rest.

Decimus. Men. Close by.

“You came across Decimus and his men?”

She nodded vigorously and explained as best she could what had happened.

“Decimus travels north, thinking we have gone to seek safety from Magnus.”

Her eyes widen with fear for her friend.

“Do not worry for Magnus. He can well take care of himself. Worry for you.”

Her eyes rounded with the harshness of his words.

“Do you know what would have happened if he had found you?”

She did not want to think of the consequences of Decimus finding her. She had no strength left, but she wanted to let him know that she had been brave and courageous. It was important to her.

With few written words she tried as best she could to relate how she had hung by the branch as Decimus drank water just a mere few inches away from her. She let him know that she had caught a glimpse of Decimus’s hand and his ring, and she had been close to seeing his face.

“You came that close to him?”

She nodded then raised her chin to demonstrate her pride and courage.

Michael growled low in his throat, sounding as though he was about to erupt. Mary’s eyes grew wide with alarm.

The growl quieted, he shook his head and his glove-covered hand slowly stroked her face.

“You are braver than I.”

She shook her head and quickly wrote, No one brave as you.

He took the stick from her hand, tossed it aside, and lowered his head.

“I should not do this, I have no right to kiss you, but I must.”

He grabbed the edge of his face mask.

“Close your eyes, Mary, and give me your word as a brave warrior that you will keep them closed.”

This was the second time she had been considered a brave warrior and it meant much more coming from Michael. She gave her word with a nod, accepting the distinguished honor of being a warrior in his eyes.


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