“It’s said that horses won’t step on a person if they don’t absolutely have to. They prefer stable ground, something hard and firm, yet the ground that night wasn’t hard, and it wasn’t firm. In my struggle to free myself, I had fallen, and before I knew it, I’d become nothing but mud in their eyes.”

***

England – June 1637

With his prized herd finally inside the barn, Yannick dropped the plank into the bar holders and secured the door. He was soaked to the skin and covered in mud, but none of that mattered. His face outshone the lightning that split the sky as he turned to thank all those who’d helped to save his precious animals, only to stop…just like his heart. Across the way, standing out like a beacon in the mud, was what was left of a woman’s white tunic. “Oh, Christ…no.”

In a flash, Yannick was kneeling in the muck alongside Bennett, the rain cascading off his face as he took in the damage. Her chest and face had been crushed, and her arms and legs were twisted and shattered. Yannick zoned in on the beat of Bennett’s heart, his own fracturing as he heard it becoming slower by the second. Bennett’s breathing was nothing more than raspy gurgles, her lungs punctured by ribs far too weak to withstand the stampede, and rocking back on his haunches, Yannick took but a moment before he made his decision. She was Max’s friend. She was Max’s protégé, but more importantly, she was Max’s pride and joy. Yannick called on his fangs to drop and sunk them into Bennett’s neck.

As soon as the deed was done, Yannick lifted Bennett from the mud. She sagged like a limp rag doll in his arms as he carried her into the house. He took her to a bedroom, and after stripping Bennett of what remained of her clothes, Yannick tenderly washed her, dressed her, and put her to bed. If she’d been stabbed, impaled, or even eviscerated, Bennett would have awoken within an hour or maybe two, but nearly all her bones were broken, so when Yannick left the room, he knew she’d sleep for hours.

Yannick’s actions weighed heavily on his mind as he lumbered back to his room. It wasn’t their way to turn those belonging to someone else, and all Yannick knew was that at one time, Bennett had been a slave rather than a student. Even though the chat he witnessed between Max and Bennett when they arrived was friendly banter, making it appear their relationship had changed, Bennett was still with Max. She lived under his roof. She ate his food, and she was traveling with him. So, was she still Max’s property? Had Yannick truly stepped over the line, or had he simply done what Max would have done, given the dire circumstances?

***