Free The Invisible Ring by Anne Bishop Page A

fear-filled dance. Jared’s hands tightened on her upper arms hard enough to bruise, but that didn’t lessen her struggles or her venom-coated curses.
    As she threw herself to the right, almost breaking his hold, her foot slipped and twisted. He saw pain beneath the fury in her eyes, felt the change in her body as she tried to ignore it.
    Hell’s fire, what was he thinking of to slide around on a muddy road in the pouring rain, challenging a Gray-Jeweled Queen? The boy had no claims on him. Why should he care if she tore the little prick into pieces? All she had to do was send one bolt of power through the controlling ring and she’d have all of them rolling in the mud begging for mercy.
    Since it hadn’t occurred to her yet, he wasn’t going to give her the chance to think of it.
    “Lady,” he said through gritted teeth.
    No response.
    Fear shivered through him. Now that he’d committed himself to opposing her, he couldn’t back down and hope to remain intact. All right then. Balls and sass.
    He put all the arrogance and temper he could summon into his voice. “Lady! It’s the males’ right to discipline their own.” That was true in a court. It was true in a Blood community. Slaves didn’t have that privilege, but he was hoping she was too angry to remember that.
    Apparently she was because she stopped struggling. As he loosened his grip on her arms, her hands tightened on his coat, and he realized she couldn’t put her weight on her right leg.
    Sliding one arm around her waist, he pulled her tight against him to support and distract her—and found himself distracted by the way his body responded to being so close to hers.
    A hint of wildness floated up from somewhere deep inside him. Following that instinct, Jared wrapped a faint seduction spell around her as he lightly kissed her lips.
    When he was done, she just stared at him. Well, good. Now he wasn’t the only one feeling confused.
    “Let us take care of the discipline,” he coaxed as he stroked her wrinkled cheek with a finger and wondered why her skin felt so delightfully soft. “Believe me, having been boys ourselves, we’re better at it.”
    He held his breath, waiting for her answer.
    “All right,” she finally said. “Just . . . keep him away from me.”
    “It will be our pleasure, Lady.”
    Her lips curved in a reluctant smile. “I think this is what my father calls ‘things it’s best a Queen pretend not to know.’ ”
    Calls? Her father was still alive?
    “I’d say that’s just about right.” Jared put some sass into his answering smile and watched, amazed, as color flooded her cheeks.
    Looking around, she finally noticed Brock and Randolf holding Eryk and Tomas, and Blaed and Thayne watching everything while they soothed the nervous horses. Twisting her upper body in the other direction, she met Thera’s frosted stare. The color in her cheeks deepened.
    Feeling absurdly protective, Jared glared at Thera. She met him, look for look, and finally said in a voice so carefully neutral everyone knew she wanted to tear strips out of somebody, “Are you intending to help her into the wagon anytime soon, or are you waiting for that knee to swell up to the size of a melon?”
    The Gray Lady let put a startled squawk when he swung her up into his arms and carried her into the wagon. Settling her on a bench cushioned by a couple of blankets, he knelt in front of her. Thank the Darkness his mother had taught him a little healing Craft. He couldn’t do anywhere near as much as a Healer could, but at least he could do something to help her.
    Except he didn’t have a chance. He’d just pulled off her boot and was debating how to broach the necessity of removing her trousers when Thera stormed into the wagon, followed by Polli, who stared at him as if removing a boot was a prelude to rape.
    “We’ll look after her,” Thera said coolly. “You’ve other business to attend to.”
    Setting the boot on the floor, Jared rose slowly.
    Polli pressed herself into a corner and started