The Castle Thorne (Book One of The Candlelight Series)

Fear of Blood

As the sun passed over Lena's skin, she awoke, and realized she had fallen asleep in Castellan's arms the night before. For just a few moments, she relaxed for the first time she entered Castle Thorne and gazed up at the ceiling. The soft silence of snowfall clouded her mind and she almost felt at peace. A breath later, however, and the memories of death and loss filled her consciousness, and her crystal blue eyes filled with tears.

Castellan stirred and turned to her. "You are going to be okay. We are going to be okay." Ever so gently, he wiped the tears from her cheek. "I have to make sure both of us have enough to live on once we leave Castle Thorne. We can leave once we are paid at the end of next month, I promise. We will go far, far away from here and part ways once we are safe. You will be free to live your life, and I will be free to live mine."

Lena sighed, sitting up and nodding. "Okay. We can make it out. We should probably tell the rest of the servants that we are 'engaged' so that Lord Thorne does not try to continue his advances." She gazed at him, giving him a small smile hindered by her grief. "Thank you for doing this for me, I am eternally in your debt."

"Of course, I am honored to be married to you." Castellan smiled widely and Lena laughed. "We will announce our engagement today." The light glanced off of his features and the gold flecks in his hazel eyes and she felt her breath leave her. It was like he was made of light— warm and sweet and golden and bright, and she felt his light shine on her. It was as if the darkness was leaving because of him.

- ~ ⧫ ~ -

"You are what?" Lord Thorne shouted, his dark eyes blazing with unbridled fury. Lena shrank back, shocked by his rage. His face mere inches from hers and she could feel his hot breath on her cheek and see the fire in his eyes. Even with the killings that had occurred and the presence of the monster, she had never been more afraid than at that moment. Breathing deeply and trying to regain her composure, she nodded.

"Yes. We are engaged, sir."

His lip curled in disgust and he growled, narrowing his eyes. "Very well." Storming across the room, he gazed outside the window, then flung the curtains across it. "Damn the prophecy. Damn the prophecy of raven hair!" Lord Thorne rushed towards her suddenly, making her gasp. Quick as a whip, he slapped her across her face, leaving a red mark on her cheek. "Back to work, insolent fool."

Lena left his study as soon as she finished her chore, fleeing down the stairway and through the hall. Castellan caught her by the hand and drew her close. "Are you alright, my Lady? You look frightened." He touched the red mark on her cheek. "Did he do this to you?"

"Yes. Oh, Castellan, we must leave!"

He nodded, his eyes reflecting the light from the window. "We must, but neither of us has enough money to survive. I am afraid we will have to wait for the next moon."

"He said something about a prophecy, do you know what he meant by that?"

Castellan shook his head, looking confused. "No, but perhaps it is in one of his books in the study? It makes sense that he would have researched it." He smiled at her, taking her hand once again. "Return to the study only when he is not there, I do not want you getting hurt again." Servants passed them, looking surprised as they saw them with their fingers laced together. "We are engaged," he said, smiling widely, and Lena did her best to mirror the expression despite the fear she held in her heart. She knew that the killings would not stop and that Lord Thorne's treatment of her would only worsen. And in her heart, she feared the complications of discovering the prophecy.

Be strong, she told herself, curling her fingers into fists. Your parents raised you without fear, with strength. You have the blood of the Arden name, and you are not weak. She steeled her nerves, glancing in the direction of Lord Thorne's study. "I refuse to let myself spiral into fear when I swore I would destroy the wolf that had destroyed so many."

- ~ ⧫ ~ -

Lukas stormed down the hall, angry at Lord Thorne. It was not simply that he was a cruel, tyrannical master, but that he also did nothing to protect his servants from the wolf that was mauling the inhabitants of the castle. Without a doubt in his mind, he vowed that he would not rest until Lord Thorne was dead.

So in the depths of the night, in the heart of the castle, he snatched a knife from the cellar and sharpened it with murderous intent. He climbed the stairs to Lord Thorne's private chambers where he knew the master was slumbering quietly, without a single melancholy regret. Lukas had lost his wife to the wolf. She had been abused by Lord Thorne and had met an untimely end in the jaws of the beast. He was just a servant himself without any sort of battle training, but he was fueled with rage and righteous anger, and felt as if hell itself would not stop him from reaching his goal.

But a low growl sounded behind him, and the last thing he saw was the vicious jaws of the wolf.

Hell had found him.