Free My Rebellious Heart by Samantha James

second, caught in a spate of conscience. The old man had spared his life in the forest outside Langley, and though he might regret it later, he realized he could do no less for him.
    His fist returned slowly to his side. "Now we're even, old man." Thorne did not dawdle, but quickly relieved the knight of his dagger and sword. Seconds later, a dark-robed figure exited the chamber, his head bowed low in doleful prayer for such a wicked soul as the earl.
    He paused only once, to survey the passageway before him. A shout of triumph clamored within his breast, but he al owed only the merest of smiles to cross his lips. He had attained his
     
    goal—he was imprisoned no more. But the time to relish his freedom—precious though it was—must wait a little longer. No, he was not yet ready to depart Merwen ... He had a score to settle with the princess.

Chapter 5
S
    hana was exhausted. Though eventual y her body succumbed to her utter weariness, her mind did not. She remembered how bitterly determined she had been the night before she had set out for Langley. She remembered how shrewdly— and how coldly!-—she had plotted to trap the man responsible for her father's demise.
    She had lured a man to his death, a voice in her mind taunted, only to find it did not bring solace to her wounded soul.
    Her sleep was restless and fitful, disturbed by dreams. Her father's face wavered before her.
    She saw herself cradling his head in her lap, trying frantical y to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping wound in his chest. The image shifted and swirled.
    She saw a face as handsome as sin, with hair and eyes as black as midnight; those eyes condemned and accused, stabbing into her like the tip of a blade. Then, all at once, hazy light fringed the edge of her vision. She saw herself staring in horror at outstretched hands— blood smeared her palms. She scrubbed frantically with the edge of er kirtle, but the blood remained, a crimson stain that would not be removed. First her father's, she thought vaguely.
    And now the earl's ...
    A shadow fell over her. Suddenly there he was,
     
    his hands as bloodied as her own, leering even in death ... She saw herself turn and run blindly forward, into an endless void of darkness. Dimly she heard herself cry out. Then all she could hear was the sound of her breathing, raw and scraping as her tortured lungs fought for much-needed air. But there was no help for it, for suddenly the earl was there, his bloodied hand clamped tight around her mouth. Her eyelids snapped open. She came awake with a jolt.
    Sweet Jesus, this was no dream. A light from a candle flickered next to the bed. And she was staring straight into Thorne de Wilde's wickedly handsome features.
    An icy shock ripped through her. Both body and mind recoiled. She could only watch in horror as a slow-growing smile claimed his lips. But one thought spun through her mind—it was the smile of a demon.
    "Princess," he whispered, his voice as smooth as oil. "Has your lover Barris departed so early then? I must confess, I did not think to find you alone." The insult scarcely registered.
    Dazed and stunned, Shana could only stare at him in shock and disbelief.
    "What, princess? You are surprised to see me?" He stated the obvious. "Ah, but you should not be. After al , I did promise that you would be the first I would seek out the moment I was able."
    Sanity returned in a rush. His hand was huge, covering her nose and mouth so that she could scarcely breathe. Mother of Christ, did he mean to suffocate her? Desperate for air, she clawed wildly in an attempt to dislodge his hand. His grip was merciless. With his free hand, he swept back the covers. A steely arm hooked around her waist and plucked her from her bed. The world swayed dizzily once she was on her feet. Her mind was churning so that she could hardly think. How had
     
    he freed himself? Why hadn't he simply made good his escape?
    Shana scarcely realized when he slowly lifted his palm from