Chapter 3

She was not what he was expecting, Raoul thought, ripping to shreds an old chair that had committed no crime except to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was a small thing, the top of her head hardly reaching his shoulder, and frightened, although he supposed he could allow her a bit of fear. She was nothing like the father; he could feel something emanating from her that could not even be hidden by that pathetic patched excuse for a dress she was wearing. He knew not what it was, but it made him wary of her. Her father had been a typical, thoughtless, selfish human with no thought or compassion for anyone but himself. It was that kind of human that allowed Raoul to rationalize his actions instead of trying to fix them.

The moon shone down on his now wolf figure as he raced through the castle, snarling and snapping at anything that came in his way in an effort to forget the way she had trembled when he touched her.


Piper woke the next morning to a gentle shaking, hands on her shoulders. For a few moments she thought it was Veronica telling her to wake; she was late for work when she saw her things drying by a gentle fire. She looked around to see the person who had been shaking her but no one was there.

"Good morning, child," said a bright voice, obviously an older woman's.

"Good morning," Piper said cautiously.

"Did you have a good night's sleep?"

"Yes."

"You look refreshed. Come now, and we will find you something appropriate to wear."

Piper stood and gentle hands pushed her toward the armoire.

"I think the green frock will do nicely. Come child, the master doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Piper halted, the green frock in her arms. "The master?" she asked hesitantly.

"Why yes. He has asked that you join him for breakfast and he is not usually refused." An almost fearful note sounded in the voice and Piper shivered.

"Give him my compliments," Piper said quietly, "but tell him I will not join him to break his fast."

The voice was silent for a long moment. "Are you sure it is wise ...?"

"Please."

"As you wish," the voice said and left.

It took only a few minutes before a horrific pounding began on Piper's door. Stumbling into her robe, she walked calmly over, although her heart was beating fast.

"Yes?" she said calmly.

"You will join me for breakfast or else I shall tear this door from its hinges!" spat out the man on the other side of the door.

Piper took a deep breath, forcing her dry tongue to move. "I am not dressed," she said. "And if you think I will join you after the abominable way you treated me yester night, you are gravely mistaken." Her voice trembled unconvincingly and the man laughed. It was more of a bark than anything.

"You are frightened of me."

Piper swallowed. "You have given me no reason to think otherwise."

"Perhaps I want you to be frightened of me."

"Then you have succeeded. But I will not join you for breakfast."

Silence. "I am not accustomed to having my wishes refused."

Piper said nothing. She opened the door a crack and peered out at the man standing at her door. His cold eyes grazed hers and she pulled her robe tighter around herself, forcing her gaze to meet his.

"Until you give me a sign that you will treat me as a gentleman should treat a woman, I will not join you for anything: breakfast, dinner, or supper."

He smiled his cold, cruel smile. "Then you will not eat at all."

Her lips trembled but she stood firm. "Very well," she said. "I will not eat."

She shut the door softly in his face, leaving him standing in the hall. Once the door had been shut, she slid to the floor, tears wet on her face. Her legs were hardly able to support her weight and she felt as if she had just run a great distance. Never before had she spoken to anyone in such a manner and it startled her that she could speak so to a man who would soon as kill her as look at her.

"You will dine with me before the week is out," the man said from behind the closed door with a strange snarl in his voice. Then Piper heard the soft padding of his footsteps as he walked away.