CHAPTER 4

"Sire, this came for you."

Luke glanced towards his manservant who was just standing by the door. At Luke's slight nod, he approached and handed a parchment over. It had been folded over many times until it was the size of a small square that could be discreetly concealed in one hand. Luke opened it slowly and his eyes scanned through the hastily written letter, the flowing, feminine handwriting familiar to him.

Meet me on the roads as you said. I will come with you. - B

Luke read it twice through; a thoughtful look slowly settling on his face. She wanted to come. She had agreed to come. By all means, he should be overjoyed. The plan was falling into place and his father would be happy. Yet Luke could not quell that feeling of disquiet within him.

He was standing by the fireplace. The fire was roaring, the wood spitting and crackling as they burn and break. He closed his eyes, feeling the heat from the flames. He loved the feel of that heat. Every since he turned, he had always been cold.

So cold.

So, so cold.

And he could only feel warm if he was standing very close to a fire like this.

Or when he had a fresh kill.

The coldness and the thirst. Sometimes that was all he could think of. The coldness was easy to rectify. But that thirst... He remembered the thirst far too well. It was not something he'll ever forget. It was the first thing that he woke up to when he was newly born and probably would the last thing in his mind if he ever perished. Luke opened his eyes and stared at the flames in the fireplace again.

"What news, sire?" his servant voice was soft so as not to intrude on his thoughts.

Luke scrunched up the bit of paper in his hand before throwing it into the fire. The orange flames flared and danced, making his unreadable face glowed in the darkness. Within seconds, the paper was consumed, burned into nothingness. Luke straightened up, took a deep breath before turning to face his lackey.

"Tell my father it's going as planned."

Consciousness came to her slowly.

One moment, she was flying free, floating through the air with the sun and the wind. Then she fell out of the sky towards that yawning darkness beneath. She tumbled over and over, out of control, the blue of the sky, the yellow of the sun and that darkness below rushing over and over. The darkness swallowed her whole and she had wanted to scream, wanted to frantically claw herself out of the oppressive darkness.

Then Beca knew she was awake.

She started a little, drawing a sharp breath. Her eyes were opened but it was still pitch black. Something scratchy was rubbing against her cheek and then she realised there was a hood over her head. Her heavy cloak was draped close around her and when she tried to move her hands, she found they were uselessly tied in front of her.

Strangely, she was on a horse.

She could feel the gentle amble of the horse below her and something else - she was leaning against a warm body, tucked in tight against a hard chest. What felt like arms were around her keeping her in place as the hands held the reins.

And then Beca remembered.

That soft shuffle in her room. That heavy cloak. That hand over her mouth. She had lashed out with her dagger but she was overpowered. Now her kidnapper was holding her prisoner, bringing her to god knows where. It took all of her self control to keep herself still.

She remembered every detail now.

Beca concentrated hard on keep her breathing even as her mind raced. Where is she? Had she been missed? How did her kidnapper get past the guards? Did her father knew she had been kidnapped? What are they going to do to her? She was gritting her teeth now. Each thought was making her more anxious and it was imperative she kept her head about her until she knew where she was and what they were going to do to her.

She had no way of knowing where she was. It was still night. That was as much as she could tell. Beca tried to prick her ear - perhaps she could identify her captor? No. Not a clue. Her captor was especially silent and all she could make out was the soft whinny and the clip clopping of the horse underneath her. Her captor did not seem to be in any particular hurry either. He should be fleeing, galloping hard away from the castle but no, he was ambling at a sedate pace. Beca decided he was either very, very brave or very, very stupid.

She felt the arms flexing as the rider pulled on the reins.

And they finally stopped.

Beca let her body relaxed, like she was still unconscious. She then felt that hard body moving away, sliding down the saddle. She swayed a little in the saddle but a moment later, firm hands caught her and she felt herself taken down and settled on her feet. She purposely slumped forward like she was in a dead faint but those hands set her upright again.

"I know you are awake, mi'lady."

Beca ground her teeth in frustration. Her captor's voice was muffled with this stupid hood over her head. A moment later, the hood was removed with a whoosh and Beca blinked rapidly. It was still dark and she could not quite see but a moment later, the clouds moved and the moon shone bright and she saw him, standing over her. She shook her head slowly, squinting into the darkness, pretending she was still disorientated and confused. He was looking at her warily but he had moved forward, hands towards her.

"Mi'lady I mean you no..."

She didn't let him finish.

Her tied hands, clenched into fists, swung up fast and caught him hard underneath his chin. His head flung back at the impact and he grunted in pain. Then she kneed him hard in his balls. Beca did not wait to see him doubling up in pain. She was already running blindly into the half darkness. She did not know where she was running to. All she wanted was to get away from her captor.

Beca heard curses behind her and tried to run faster. It was her turn to swear hard now; the brush she was running through was getting thicker, whipping at her face and body. Her tied hands were an impediment. The clouds had now obscured the moon, throwing everything into darkness. She could not quite make out where she was going. She was running with bare feet and the ground was rough and uneven. Her heavy cloak kept getting caught and Beca impatiently wrenched herself free from it.

She could still hear him chasing her and she pressed on.

He was gaining; she could tell.

She could not hope to outrun him.

Perhaps she should stop and find somewhere to hide. At least until she can free her hands. She could elude him and escape. Then a root made her stumble and Beca fell headalong into the brush. She could not help that scream as she fell. Her head hit something and she was disorientated for a minute and then she felt those hands on her. Beca tried to squirm out of that grasp and kicked wildly. Some of her kicks hit true and she felt a little victorious at the swelter of curses that came.

"For goodness sake, I'm trying to help you!"

"Get away from me!"

"Mi'lady, please stay still. You are bleeding."

"Let me go! I'll have your head for this!"

She managed to squirm out that steely grasp. She could not quite see in that thick brush but he sounded winded. That was the only thing explanation why he was rasping so heavily. She tried to get up, pushing herself out off the ground but then she felt herself being lifted off the ground and slung like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. Beca wanted to scream out loud at the indignity but instead, she kicked against him and pounded her fists on his back. A lot of good it did; it was like pounding on a stone wall. He was walking out of the brush towards his horse.

"Let me go! If you try to harm me, I'll have your balls as well as your head!"

She could only him muttering curses under his breath and then he put her down on her feet. He then pressed her down on her shoulders and she could not help but buckled under the pressure of his hand and sat down on a cold stone. She glared at her captor, hate in her eyes.

His was murderous.

"Calm down!" he roared at her.

"Let me go!"

"Stay still. You are hurt!"

His hand was gripping her shoulder hard and Beca tried to squirm away. She loathed him touching her.

"Unhand me! You are not fit to even stand next to me; let alone touch me!" Beca spat. "Let me go this instance!"

"And where will you go?"

Beca stopped struggling for a moment. He was gazing down at her. Beca wanted to spit and curse at him but the penetrating way he was gazing at her made her still her tongue.

"We are deep in the woods, far away from the castle. There is nowhere for you to go," His voice was maddeningly calm. "As strange as it seems, mi'lady, you are safer here with me."

Beca was still angry but what he was saying made sense. She bit down on her lip, her frustration welling up. He was right. She could run again but where would that take her? It was dark and she didn't even know where she was. Damn him!

"Untie my hands," Beca demanded.

He merely quirked an eyebrow and shook his head.

"What do you want with me? Why did you do this?" Beca spat out.

"I was instructed to."

"By whom? Tell me!" Beca said hotly. She cast her mind on whom would want her captive. Anyone of her father's enemies, no doubt. She could think of several.

"By order from the Lord Mitchell."

The answer made her gasped and took the wind out of her. Her eyes glinted murderously.

"You lie!"

"A wolf never lies."

"What?" Beca answered, a little confused. What stupid nonsense was he spouting now? He was trying to trick her. He seemed to shook his head a little, like he was trying to clear his thoughts.

"I am going to untie you, mi'lady," he said formally, bending forward, his hands now at the knots that kept her hands together. " - as a sign that I mean you no harm. But please promise me you will not run."

He was waiting for a response, staring again at her. Beca chewed her lower lip for a moment and then slowly nodded. A moment later, her hands were freed and she rubbed her wrists to get rid of the rope burn. He was watching her carefully.

"I am so sorry. Did I tie it too tight?" he said softly. Beca just shook her head, more than a little confused at the almost tender way he asked that question. He then took a deep, ragged breath before saying roughly, "Your forehead. It's still bleeding."

Beca's hand automatically went up to her forehead. The gash on her forehead stung a little and her fingers felt the slight wetness. That familiar, sharp metallic smell confirmed that she was indeed bleeding. She must have cut herself on a sharp branch when she fell just now.

"Please clean that, mi'lady."

Beca turned to the knight. He had stepped back, putting some distance between them and she was even more puzzled by the tight way he clamped his lips together and the way his eyes did not waver from her forehead.

" Tis but a scratch," she said, consciously dabbing her sleeve against the cut, drying it as best as she could. She felt a little giddy now and Beca was glad she was sitting down.

"You said my father instructed you to do this? What is the meaning of this? I am supposed to be on my way to the de Lessops first thing tomorrow morning."

"You will be. The retinue will still move from the castle tomorrow. I have been instructed to escort you on a different route," he said slowly. "A safer and faster route."

Beca let out a bark of derisive laugh. "A safer route? My father thinks you can keep me safe? So far I've been kidnapped, choked, manhandled, let down in the middle of nowhere and hurt my head! Is this what you meant by keeping me safe?"

He was scowling at her now.

"If it pleases mi'lady, I did not go unscathed," he muttered.

Beca swung round to look at him properly. His hair was a mess with bits of leaves and twigs. There were scratches across his left cheek and she remembered biting his hand and drawing blood. Beca's sharp eyes saw the cut on the sleeve of his leather armour where she must have slashed at him with her dagger. And she knew his nether region must be throbbing. Throbbing with pain with that swift knee to his balls.

"Good!" Beca said a little loudly, a smug, satisfied smile spreading over her face.

He just muttered darkly and turned away.

They were silent for some time. He was standing by his beast of a horse - Shadow, was it? - patting him gently and Beca was still sitting down on that stone. It must be quite late. It was cold and the cold from the stone Beca was sitting on was quickly seeping through her thin nightgown. It chilled her to the bone and now Beca wished she had her cloak with her. Goosebumps erupted on her arms. She wanted to rub her arms warm but she loathed to show any form of weakness in front of him.

Beca looked at her bare feet and scoffed under her breath. He could at least kidnap her when she was properly dressed; not when her feet were bare and she was only in this thin, flimsy silk gown. She was cold and shivering now and her feet hurt and full of cuts. She will catch a cold or an infection. She was sure of that. And she will die. Hah! Yes! She will die from a cold. Just to spite him.

Beca was entertaining thoughts on how to torture and spite this weaselly knight when she felt the drop of a cloak around her shoulders. She was a little taken by surprise. She didn't even hear him move.

"I'm going to build a fire. You are cold."

Beca was about to shrug his cloak off but she then looked up, to find herself looking straight into his eyes. His eyes were dark like obsidian and she felt strangely compelled to obey. The cloak was made of thick wool; not as luxurious as her sable but sturdy and practical. It would probably reached down mid calf on him but it enveloped her to her feet. The residual heat of his body still clung to that cloak. It felt warm and there was this spicy, earthy scent which was both comforting and familiar. Beca instinctively drew it closer round her. She felt warmer already.

"Thank you," Beca said, lowering her gaze.

If she had kept her gaze on him, she would have seen how his eyes softened a little at the sight of her almost drowning in his cloak. But that look was gone as soon as he roused himself.

"I need to find some wood. Please don't wander off. Shadow will protect you."

Beca heard him walking away and for a moment, she felt a little nervous. Then she felt a cold nose rubbing her cheek and a horsey snort and she looked up, smiling at the black stallion. She reached up to scratch his nose and he whickered delightedly, butting his head gently against hers.

"You are wonderful," Beca murmured to the horse. "What are you doing with such a horrible man?"

He was gone for some time; Beca could not quite tell how long. The darkness around her felt foreboding somehow. She was used to hunting in the woods before but that had been in daylight. In the deep of the night, the woods seemed more dangerous and threatening. Beca wished she had some sort of weapon with her. He should have, at least, left her her dagger. Only the reassuring bulk and presence of Shadow behind her made her feel a little safer.

She heard the crack first.

Beca's head whipped round.

Something was moving in the shadow.

Someone was coming. And it was not him. Whoever it was, was on a horse. She could hear the hooves. No, more than one set of hooves. It could not be her father's men. The steps were far too careful, far too stealthy. Beca rose slowly, backing up towards Shadow. She didn't have any weapons but Beca had hastily picked up a two small rocks and concealed them in her hands underneath the cloak. Shadow was next to her, his head nudging Beca aside protectively, his eyes and ears alert.

Something seemed to move in the brush directly in front of them.

Beca tightened her hold on the rock in her hand.

And the rider stepped out of the bush into the clearing.

"Hallo..."

Beca gave out a cry, dropped the rock she was holding and flew across the clearing.

"Amy! Oh my god, Amy!"

She could not believe it. It was Amy, her friend Amy, now standing in front with her grey palfrey and Blaze, Beca's chestnut mare. Beca threw herself on her blonde friend and hugged her tight. She drew back to make sure she was not hallucinating. No, she was not. Amy was here to save her.

"I knew you would find me missing!" Beca said. "How did you find me? Did you raise the alarm? Listen, no time to talk..."

"Calm down, Beca. It's fine - "

" - No, we must hurry. He'll be back soon - "

"Who? Beca - "

"- that knight. He's insane! He said my father ordered him to kidnap me! We've got to go."

"Beca.." Amy said, trying to get a word in edgewise.

"- you brought Blaze along. Clever Amy! Quick! We have to leave now!"

Beca was trying to step around Amy to get to Blaze but she was maddeningly blocking her way. Beca wanted to shake her. Which part of having to go now did Amy not understand? He would be back any moment.

"Amy! We have to go now!"

"Lady Amelia."

Beca cursed under her breath and whirled around. He was back. He was now standing next to Shadow, a small pile of dry wood at his feet. He stooped down to one knee and began to work on starting a fire.

"Good evening, Sir James. I hope you are well, " Amy answered pleasantly.

"Amy! Don't be nice to him," Beca whispered fiercely, gripping her arm tight. "He's the one who kidnapped me."

"I've been better," Jesse replied back to Amy, gingerly touching the scratches on his face and wincing a little. He went back to his task, striking a stone with a small blade. Sparks flew and soon the wood caught. "I trust you've brought all the supplies."

"Yes, I did. Just as planned," Amy answered, pulling the reins on the two horses she was leading. They moved closer to the fire. Beca was staring at them, dumbfounded.

"Amy?" Beca spoke up a little unsure.

And she finally understood. "Amy! You are in with him!"

Beca fell back a step. She was shaking a little with shock. Her best friend was colluding with the enemy? Her very best friend was betraying her?

"Lady Rebecca, please let me explain," he was saying now. "What I said earlier was true. Your father wants you delivered safe and sound to the de Lessops. I am to escort both you and Lady Amelia. She will vouch for me. Both your father and Commander Allen had planned this."

Beca was still reeling with surprise. She clutched tight to the cloak around her, staring at both Amy and Jesse in turn.

"Amy, is this true?" Her voice was a croaky whisper.

Amy nodded vigorously. "Just like he said, Beca. You know I wouldn't just leave you."

"But why did my father not say anything?"

Both Amy and Jesse exchanged a quick look.

"I am sure he had his reasons," Jesse replied blandly.

"We are to travel under guise. Just the three of us," Amy added. "It is safer and faster this way."

It made sense. Beca was still trying to wrap her head around what had happened.

"Why the hurry?" Beca wondered. "I just don't understand it."

"I suggest we sleep on it, mi'lady," Jesse said mildly. He turned and began to loosen his pack off Shadow's back. "It is very late and we need to set off early tomorrow."

Beca nodded dumbly, a little too overwhelmed by the chain of events.

"Lady Amelia had brought your supplies. I had to hurry just now and didn't have time to carry anything else," he droned on and on. Beca hardly heard him. What is that bore talking about now? "You would find everything you need. And...perhaps you would like to change into something warmer than your nightgown? It gets chilly out here."

Beca was crossly pulling out a pair of woollen trousers and a long sleeved tunic from out of her pack. Amy had helped unload the pack from Blaze and handed it over to Beca, with a cheeky grin on her face. Beca scowled at her blonde friend. She was not feeling particularly friendly now.

Lady Rebecca Mitchell never felt so embarrassed in her life. There she was, trying to hold an upper hand over that peasant and all the while she had been standing half naked in front of him? The times she had struggled against him and being carried over his shoulder in nothing but her nightclothes? Beca's cheeks were flaming from shame.

She forcefully pushed her legs through the trousers, found that she got it the wrong way round and she had to take it off and put it on all over again. The night was cold so she did not bother to pull off her nightgown. She just pulled the tunic over and wrapped herself into that big, warm cloak again. His cloak. Damn it! Beca crossly pulled thick heavy socks on, all the while muttering under her breath.

"What are you mumbling about?"

Beca looked up and her eyes met Amy's amused ones.

"Nothing!" she said out loud but then she mumbled darkly. "I cannot believe you didn't tell me."

"What's that now?"

"I said I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Amy was quiet for a moment, still fighting down a smile. "Eh. I thought it's more fun this way," she replied with a shrug. "Isn't this great? We are having an adventure!"

"Easy for you to say! You were not kidnapped and manhandled!"

Amy was laughing quietly now and her gaze turned to Jesse whose back was towards them. "Hmm. So. How was it?"

"How was what?" Beca grumbled, now quickly combing her hair with her fingers and braiding it up.

"How was it being man-handled?"

Beca's mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

"How was it riding against that hard body?" Amy asked, winking.

"Amy!"

Jesse turned around and frowned at her yell. Beca coloured again and turned quickly, shooting evil looks at Amy who was chortling quietly. "You are NOT my best friend now." Beca whispered heatedly at Amy. Her sleeping bag was already rolled out on the ground and she peevishly laid down and arranged the cloak around her. Beca frowned again at Amy's amused face. "I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"Suit yourself," Amy yawned before settling down next to her. "You are still my best friend, Beca. I know too much about you." Amy laughed again at the indistinct grumble coming out from the big pile of cloak where Beca was. "Sulk all you want. Any more funny groping with that hard man over there, I'm going to tell that blonde swain of yours."

Amy laughed harder hearing an indignant squeak from that pile of cloak.

What she did not see what the look of terror on Beca's face. Because she was just reminded of that little bit of parchment she had sent to Luke just that morning.

They were finally settling down to sleep. And before long, Jesse could hear their even breathing. He breathed out a little easier; he had a long day and God, it had been a long and eventful night. Trust Bumper to come up with such as asinine plan like this. He had to kidnap her? That was the big plan? Just because her father thought she was in immediate danger?

Jesse mulled over it a little longer and he reluctantly had to agree that Lord Mitchell had been right.

Her room reeked of that undead stench. Most probably that tall, blonde one who were making eyes at her throughout dinner and the dancing. Jesse hated him on first sight. Swaggering round like he was some sort of God's gift to women. Oh, he knew all about that creature's ability to cast his charm on any human near. Fortunately, Jesse was not entirely human.

He crossly wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. The scratches had healed and disappeared already. So did the gash on his hand where she had sank her teeth into.

Damn. That had hurt.

He was not expecting that.

Nor that dagger that he had to wrench away. Or the way she had attacked him and taken flight. What was he expecting exactly? That she would faint and cry and be gentle into his arms? He should know by now what a stubborn brat she was. She wasn't told of this plan and of course, she would fight him. It was a little stupid of her to run away like that but he could not help but marvel at the plucky way she fought.

He had to smile. She had fought like a wild cat.

Wait. Why the hell was he smiling?

Jesse scowled. He should really get some sleep. He turned to his side in his sleeping bag, hoping sleep would come. After a few long minutes, Jesse grumbled in defeat. This was not very comfortable. He would have preferred to transform, find a nice, dry cave somewhere and curl up to sleep.

Why are we sleeping like this?

Jesse sighed inwardly. Just to make matters worse. Now Wolf was complaining.

Good evening, Wolf.

Good evening, Jesse.

I trust you are well.

I would be if we are more comfortable. Why are we sleeping like this?

Jesse forgot how persistent his inner wolf could be.

We've got company.

And?

We don't want to scare them.

Jesse closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep, trying to persuade Wolf to get some sleep. But Wolf was already up, resting on his hinds legs and sniffing the air.

She's here.

Yes, she is.

Why are you sleeping here and she is sleeping all the way over there?

Jesse sighed again and shut his eyes tighter. How do you explain this to Wolf? How do you explain that the human world was so much more complex? Jesse was grasping at straws to explain this.

Umm. She needed rest. Now shut up and go to sleep.

But Wolf was pacing restlessly within and Jesse shifted a little uncomfortably. He emitted a low growl that Jesse could feel in his head. He was shifting through Jesse's thoughts now and Jesse saw flashes of her tucked tight against him on his horse, her fleeing in the half darkness, like a ghost in her white, flimsy nightgown. She had struggled and kicked against him and he had tried to hold her wriggling body still.

It had been strange having her struggle against him.

He could not quite work out why but he nearly lost his control there and then. Jesse tucked in his legs tightly together, still a little uncomfortable. Why the hell did she had to knee him in the balls? That had hurt and now that stupid dull throbbing was still there.

Wolf was now laughing - Down boy!

What the hell are you saying? - Jesse replied silently, scowling heavily. He could see Wolf's mouth drawn back laughing.

You think you are still throbbing there because she kneed you in your balls?

Jesse scowled again at his inner wolf.

Shut down and go to sleep.