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Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Copyright
  3. Author's Note
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. Other Books by Pam Godwin
  63. About Pam Godwin
  64. Don't miss out!

Oh, dear sweet God, please don’t let that be Priest beneath those blows.

Over and over, the dull striking noise repeated, echoing through the hold. The longer it lasted, the wetter it sounded. Like the smack and crush of blood and organs and other vital things.

There were no grunts. No whispers of life beyond my muffled wheezing. Just the ominous thump, thump, thump.

Dread twisted knots in my stomach. If Priest were only feet away, he would’ve come for me, reassured me. He would’ve called out and said something to calm my hysterics.

I jerked harder against the barrel, rattling my shackles and screaming against the gag.

The thumping sound stopped.

My breath seized.

Boots creaked as someone shifted. Then footsteps advanced.

A warning chill shot up my spine as I listened to those steps. They grew closer. I listened harder, really listened, recognizing the confident heel to toe rhythm.

My entire body came alive, tingling, gasping, shaking. Christ almighty, I shook so hard the tremors struck agony through every muscle and joint.

He was the highlight of my life, someone I looked forward to seeing desperately, frantically. As I lay strapped to the barrel, concentrating on the cadence of his approach, every second felt timeless. Endless. Hurry.

Hands swept through my hair, long fingers stiff and trembling. He was shaking as viciously as I was, worse even, as he unraveled the blindfold and removed the gag.

I blinked rapidly against the sudden light, impatient to see him. Then I did.

Cold blue eyes.

Full lips pulled back into a snarl.

A savage expression bathed in so many layers of fresh blood it was unrecognizable.

“Ashley.”

37

“How many times?” Ashley’s voice scrubbed against my raw senses, grinding like jagged rocks.

He didn’t sound like himself. Didn’t look anything like the man I knew.

Gone was the demeanor of an aristocrat. Not just because of the thick blood dripping from his face. Or the sanguine clots of gore that clung to his silk cravat, fine frock, and gold embellishments. It was his bearing, the wild aura that surrounded him. He wore the reckless, uncivilized countenance of a pirate, every muscle in his body emanating a dangerous combination of madness and savagery.

His hands shook so uncontrollably he struggled to unlock my shackles with the screw key. A key he must have taken off the bodies of my abusers.

With a grimace, I twisted my neck to see the source of all the blood. But he grabbed my hair, stopping me.

“How many times, Bennett?” His terrifying expression, buried under all that filth, looked like it might fall apart any second. “How many times did that monster hurt you?”

“I don’t know.” I trembled beneath the glare of those murderous eyes. “I lost count. I don’t even know who he is. Because the blindfold…”