The Bewitching Twin Read online Donna Fletcher (Twin Series #2)

Categories Genre: Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Twin Series Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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“My wife.”

The Wolf had had a wife? She would have never imagined him a husband to any woman. She thought of him only as a warrior and a fierce one at that. That he could have loved surprised her, though he could have wed out of necessity.

“I am so very sorry,” she said sincerely.

“It has been two years.”

“Still, it is a hurt some never get over.”

“The pain has diminished and I am left with good memories.”

“What happened to your wife?” she asked, eager to learn more. “If you do not mind my inquiry.”

“She died in childbirth.”

His grief was obvious and she sympathized. “Oh, how dreadful. The child also?”

He nodded. “My son perished with her.”

Death did not discriminate. It claimed the young and the old alike and she had shed many a tear and grieved with those left behind.

“Death makes no sense,” she said, hugging her tankard of cider.

He shrugged. “It is a part of life that cannot be avoided.”

“But a part no one wishes to embrace.”

“Kendra, my wife, embraced all of life.”

She was surprised by his smile and sense of acceptance.

“Life is to be lived, she would tell me. Then challenged me to live it.”

Aliss had not imagined a man who wore a wolf’s head and skin as a husband who had loved deeply or father who grieved for an unborn son. There was much more to this man than she had first thought and she was anxious to learn more.

“You tilled the earth?”

She nodded, accepting that he no longer wished to discuss his deceased wife. “I need an herb garden. The soil is ripe for planting and nourishing seeds.”

“You tended the soil alone?”

“My choice,” she said firmly. “John wished to help but I needed none.”

“Sent him to Anna, did you?” He smiled. “For a man who deceived you, you are generous with him.”

“What point is there for me to harbor anger and resentment? You need my skill, and although I do not agree with how you obtained my help, after seeing how ill your people are, I can understand your reasoning. John did what he had to do. I cannot fault him for that or hold it against him.”

“You forgive easily.”

“My healing work has taught me that forgiveness benefits more than revenge. Of course, knowing that I will be returned to my family helps.”

“You would protest more if you thought you were not returning home?”

“I would escape,” Aliss said.

Rogan chuckled. “How would you escape?”

“I am not sure, but in time I would find a way and return home.”

“You could never escape me.”

His resolute tone sounded more like a snarl and his green eyes turned dark, like the color of winter pine trees. Here was the wolf side of him, the predator who stalked, captured, and devoured his prey.

How could she trust a wolf?

“I do not need to escape,” she said confidently. “You will return me home.”

He did not reply; he drank his cider.

Chapter 6

One day flowed into another, spring took firm hold of the weather, and life rolled by, but not idyllically. The people of Rogan’s clan continued to grow ill while some healed and others suffered relapses. The only thing Aliss had prevented thus far was more deaths.

Occasionally, she would grow melancholy with thoughts of home and her sister, but mostly she worked relentlessly, eating little and sleeping even less, growing ever more frustrated when another person took ill.

The illness struck randomly; she could make no sense of it. And she pushed aside the thought that any day it might attack her.

It was late and Aliss was exhausted. She smiled when she saw the narrow bed by the fireplace. Her limbs ached with weariness and she threw herself down on the lumpy mattress with a grateful sigh.

She nestled her head in the pillow, her eyes drifting shut, ready to surrender to sleep and hoping no one disturbed her at least for a few hours.

“Aliss. Aliss.”

She heard her name in the distance. She should respond; instead she snuggled deeper into sleep.

Someone grabbed her shoulder and shook her until she had no choice but to wake.

“What is it you want?” she grumbled, forcing her eyes open.

“Someone is badly hurt,” Anna said, hovering over her.

Aliss sprang out of bed forcing Anna to jump back. “Who? What happened?”

“James, a mere lad, wounded in battle.”

“Battle?” Aliss shook the sleep from her mind and rushed around gathering items that she might need. “What battle?”

“The marauders struck again. We must hurry. He does not do well.”

Aliss grabbed her basket and followed a teary Anna out the door.

Women kneeled in prayer outside the cottage and the men, dirty and weary from battle, followed her every step with pleading eyes. She could almost hear them begging her to save their fallen comrade.

Aliss entered the cottage, the stench of blood thick in the warm air. Rogan stood off in the corner, stoic in stature and expression. John stood next to him, his eyes heavy with tears yet to be spilled. Crying softly, an older woman kneeled beside the bed and a man stood alongside her, his gnarled fingers resting on her shoulder.


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