AN : Thank you for all the love. This is actually my favourite story and I know it is hard work to read. Love you babes.

Chapter six

From the top of the hill, Luke stood hidden in the darkness between the trees, watching. The retinue had set off from Lord Mitchell's castle with great fanfare a few days ago, accompanied by his guardsmen, moving ponderous and slow along the highway and now it was slowing down to a stop.

Luke watched as tents were erected, fires made and dinner was consumed; his eyes flitting at the number of guards posted round the periphery of the camp. His coven laid hidden, deep within the copse of trees, melting easily into the shadows, waiting for his signal. He had left strict instructions - Cover your faces. Do not feed. Make it look like a robbery. Theywere to leave a few guards hurt, carry off some of the chests and he would go directly for Beca.

The camp was settling down for the night.

Beca had sent word that she would go along with his plan. His father had been very pleased with that and preparations were already underway in the O'Cullenains' castle for the ritual. Luke felt a growing disquiet in his chest. He was well aware that he did not mention that to Beca. He fervently hoped once it was all over, Beca would forgive him. After all, she would not be married to Lord de Lessops and they would be together.

No. Best not to think of it.

His father would know best and Luke was being the dutiful son. Right now his duty was to take the Lady Beca intact and unharmed straight to the castle.

It was a perfect night for an attack – the weak moon was shining feelby through the heavy clouds and the travellers would be tired after a few days into the journey. He was just waiting for the right time; just beyond the witching hour; where the camp would be quiet and the guards would be drowsy. It would be so easy.

Almost time.

Except suddenly the whole camp suddenly erupted into action. Torches lit, dogs barking, guards moving into a more defensive position. Luke cursed under his breath. They knew. It was useless to wait any longer. With a swift signal, they attacked. Horses charging straight through, trampling anything in their path. A loud roar and fierce growls came out of from the camp, meeting the attack.

Luke headed straight to the main tent. Let his men create a diversion. He would need to find Beca, hauled her on his horse and they could be on their way.

Then Luke felt it.

Or rather he didn't.

She was not here.

He could not feel her presence and Luke knew Beca was nowhere in that camp. It took him by surprise and he was momentarily stunned. That momentary hesitation proved costly. A huge tawny wolf bounded across his path, jaws snarling, eyes bright gold in the dark. Luke snarled back, jumping off his horse, landing almost on top of the wolf. But that cunning thing leapt away, twisting and landed squarely in front of the tent.

Luke knew it was not an ordinary wolf. The sheer size of the wolf and the intelligent golden eyes now scrutinising his every move marked the creature for what it was. The two adversaries kept their gaze on each other, sizing each other up carefully, looking for any signs of weakness.

"Leech." the wolf growled. The wolf was pacing slowly in front of the tent, eyes still on him."What are you doing here?"

"None of your business, dog," Luke replied dismissively. "Step aside before I kill you."

The wolf bared his fangs, almost like he was smiling.

"You are here for her." It sounded curious. "Why?"

Luke felt it. The slightest touch like a feather across his mind. Luke drew his breath sharply and bared his fangs. The worthless son of a bitch was trying to read his mind. Luke roared and attacked, lunging at the beast. He would tear that stupid mongrel from limb to limb. Or break its leg or its neck. That creature would beg for his mercy and he would smile as he slowly kill that dog. But that wily wolf was tough, snapping and biting, his snarls deafening.

Luke had to draw back.

The wolf almost ripped his stomach out.

No, the dog was not worth it. And he had to find Beca.

Luke fell back, quickly glancing at the other battles raging round him. They were about even. He quickly whistled for retreat and they had escaped. Whoever that didn't make it, was left behind.

"Get up. We have to go now."

There was no need for him to roughly shake her awake. Beca was already up; roused from her uneasy dream. It was dark still and she was a little confused. Jesse was looming over her hammock, face taut.

"Get up."

His tone was abrupt and he made sure Beca was up on her feet before moving away. Amy was already dressed and was hauling her pack on to her horse. Beca quickly got dressed and threw her cloak round her shoulders. It was cold and her fingers felt numb. Too numb to untie the hammock and fold it back into her pack.

"We have to be quick." Jesse was beside her, quickly undoing the knots. He took down the hammock and began to pack her belongings. "If you can't be quick, go to your horse," he was barking impatiently at her.

Beca was about to say something in reply when Amy took hold of her upper arm, urging her on. She bit her tongue for the second time that day and mounted her horse. He moved like a man possessed, loading her pack onto Blaze and carefully clearing any trace of their camp. With quick, fluid steps, he mounted Shadow and they rode off; slowly at first, picking their way in the dark before going faster once they were on the open road.

Which was why Lady Beca was so very tired now.

They had rode throughout the remainder of the night, not even stopping for breakfast. Beca turned to look at Amy. Apparently she was not the only one tired; Amy was dozing off on her saddle. And their horses were flagging.

Not that he would noticed.

Beca scowled at his back. Shadow was still going strong and by the way Jesse was sitting in the saddle, he looked wide awake.

"We should stop."

Jesse slowed down and twisted around to find Beca gazing up at him.

"Amy is tired. I am tired. The horses are tired," she said.

Jesse shook his head vehemently. "No, it's not safe. We have to push on."

"Why the hurry?" Beca challenged. "We have been moving quite leisurely these past few days. And now you are making us ride through the night?"

Jesse scowled down at the tiny brunette. He was tired and on the edge. He had raced back to their camp, knowing that he had to put as much distance as possible between Beca and whatever was attacking the camp. They had to hurry. Really, he did not have the time nor the inclination to explain everything to this girl.

"It's necessary," came his stiff reply. "The sooner we get you to the de Lessops, the safer you'll be."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Beca said, eyes hardening into sapphires.

Jesse had had enough.

He got off his mount in one easy leap. "Come down."

Beca arched an eyebrow at his terse command. He said it so rudely and now he was standing, feet apart, looking up at her with barely concealed contempt.

"I don't take orders from you," Beca replied, disdain dripping from her tone.

"No, you don't," Jesse said, his voice dangerous. "But you'll want to prove me wrong."

That caught her attention. Beca narrowed her eyes at him and after a moment's deliberation, she slid down her horse. Jesse had turned to his horse and unbuckled a short sword from his pack. He threw it at Beca andshe caught it neatly in one hand.

Jesse deliberately took a few steps back into the clearing and faced Beca. "Show me how you can take care of yourself, princess."

That stung.

The way his voice inflected on the word 'princess' made it sound like a thinly veiled insult. Beca undid the catch on her cloak, dropping the sable on the ground. She tore off her riding hat, tossing it aside before stepping slowly into the clearing, opposite him. She hefted the sword in her hand, checking its feel and weight.

Hmm. Adequate.

"I have to let you know, sir knight, I am my father's daughter," Beca said haughtily. "I am well-trained in this." She slowly pulled the sword out from its scabbard and the sword sang out, steel ringing. "Draw your sword."

Jesse looked half amused. "I don't think there's any need."

He spread his empty hands palms out, a look of derision on his face. It was that look that drove her to anger.

She lunged first.

And he neatly stepped aside.

Beca quickly regained her footing, drawing back. And as quick as lighting, she attacked again, blade glinting. He managed to dodge every feint and thrust, stepping so quickly it was almost a blur. The more she attacked, the more he easily danced away. The ground was not helping. All these loose stones and roots which trip and stumble her. Hot anger was clouding her head. Beca lurched forward in another lunge, tripped by a root, landing in a heap in the dirt.

"Not quite like at home, isn't it?" Jesse taunted. "This is not the Great Hall with its polished floors, princess."

Beca almost screamed in frustration. She scrambled quickly onto her feet, not bothering to dust the dirt from where she fell and faced him again. That arrogant, half witted ass! Oh, now he was smiling! That mouth upturned into a cocky half smile. Beca had a sudden urge to carve him another smile. Further south, where his belly was.

She attacked again and this time, she thought she got him. But the flat side of her sword caught on his upper arm and Jesse casually shrugged the blade away. She had put all her strength into that blow but even her hardest blow seemed to glance off him. Jesse turned slightly catching her arm and twisted it. Beca yelled in pain, dropping the sword.

"You'll find that fighting out here is not as polite as what your masters taught you," Jesse said. He just twisted her arm further before letting go. Beca dropped to her knees. She felt tears stinging her eyes and dirt in her mouth.

"Can you really take care of yourself, princess?" Jesse continued. "I didn't even attack you."

It was that calm, measured tone that tipped her. That almost bored voice like he was having a tiresome dinner conversation while he was humiliating her, leaving her gasping in pain in the dirt.

She came at him like a wildcat.

Jesse was about to turn, grinning in triumph. He was so sure that he had made his point when the fury that was Lady Beca Mitchell rushed at him, catching him straight in the stomach. Jesse let out a breath in surprise and he fell backwards into the dirt. She was on top of him, swinging her fists straight into his face. She caught his jaw in a left hook which, for a moment, left him seeing stars. She was raining more punches into his face. He quickly tried to catch her wrists in his hands but he was clawed in the cheek.

She was snarling at him, all decorum forgotten.

He tried to unseat her. He did not really want to hurt her but she held fast, leaning all her weight into him. With some effort, he caught her hands, pulled her closer into him and rolled over, pinning her down with his body.

"You fight dirty, princess." Jesse growled at her.

She spat at him.

It didn't deter him the slightest. Jesse easily pinned her wrists down to the ground. It was futile. She could not wrench her wrists free nor free herself from underneath him but still she did not yield. Jesse was staring down at her, bucking against his heavy body. Her hair was a mess, her face streaked with dirt, spittle flying, teeth bared at him. But her eyes. So much fire in her eyes.

"Enough!"

Amy's shout cut through the air. She was striding towards them, face furious and Jesse immediately released Beca's wrists and stood up. Beca slowly sat up, wiping her face with her hand leaving a smear across her cheek.

"I took a nap and you both are brawling like sailors?" Amy yelled. "Enough!" Amy's face was puce as she strode in between the two. "I am disappointed in you, Sir James. You should know to behave better than this!"

Jesse did not look chastised at all. Amy looked grim. "I think you need to take a walk and calm down." Amy said, pointedly glancing at his crotch.

Jesse's face grew darker.

"We stop for lunch," he said tersely. He turned on his heel and walked off. Once he was out of sight, Amy whirled around to face Beca, who was now on her feet, dusting down her clothes.

"Can you stop teasing that man?" Amy yelled at her.

"What?" Beca said in surprise.

"First you undressed in front of him. And then you writhed around on the ground underneath him?" Amy continued. "Stop it. Stop it right now."

"I don't know what you are talking about, Amy!" Beca said hotly. Her hands hurt. Beca winced as she gingerly touched the cuts and sore spots on her knuckles. She had hit him rather hard. "He hates me. He hates me so much."

"He is trying to keep you safe," Amy said in reproach. "He is trying his best to bring you safe to the de Lessops."

"I know that!" Beca yelled out in frustration. Too many things were running through her mind right at the moment. She missed her father, she was exhausted and now, she felt so humiliated. "I am tired of all this. The sooner I get married, the better!"

"Lady Beca was not there?"

Luke was standing in his father's war room. He had immediately sought his audience as soon as he was back from that failed attempt. Lord O'Cullenain was staring out of the window, hands crossed on his back. He asked that question softly but Luke could not help but cringed a little at that accusing note in his father's tone. He had disappointed him.

"No." Luke answered.

His father didn't say another word and the silence pressed heavily between them. For a long moment, Lord O'Cullenain kept silent before sighing and turning around. "You disappoint me, Lucius."

"I know, father." Luke just watched as his father moved slowly towards the maps littered on the huge table.

"Lord Mitchell is more crafty than I thought." Lord O'Cullenain surmised, examining the maps on the table. "Let's see whether we can find out what was his plan."

He nodded to his lackey who was standing mutely by the door. "Bring that brood mare. The one we took from Lord Mitchell's castle," Lord O'Cullenain ordered. The lackey nodded before shuffling out and closing the door behind him.

Luke shifted uncomfortably. He knew his father was talking about the maidservant one of their men had fed on during Lady Beca's leaving feast. The one who had been converted into their kind.

"I am sure that wench could tell us a thing or two." his father was now saying brightly. "If she doesn't, you could 'persuade' her, couldn't you, Luke?"

Luke slowly nodded, his fists clenching at the thought on what he would have to do to the poor girl.

The fish was delicious.

Beca reluctantly bit into it, chewed and swallowed. She was sitting on a stone, with her wooden plate with a portion of grilled fish, trying not to wince as she forked another portion of fish. Her knuckles were sore but it was nothing compared to the pain of that abject humiliation just now. She was still smarting from that. Beca bit the morsel of fish on her fork and chewed slowly, glancing quickly to the other side of their makeshift camp. He was sitting stonily on the other side away from her, sharpening his sword. The stone making the blade ring. Amy had wandered off for a nap after lunch, complaining how tired she was.

That fish was his apology.

He had cooked it before and Beca had liked it. Somehow he had caught one today and had cooked it again. Beca glanced at him again, noting how serious he looked. She frowned. She was sure she had scratched his cheek, her fingernails raking deeply into his flesh but no, his skin was perfect. That olive coloured skin looked smooth and flawless. And she had punched him so many times. A few spectacular bruises should be blooming at his jaw by now and he should sport a swollen lip but all she could see was how perfectly shaped his Cupid bow mouth was. Perhaps that rather fetching stubble was hiding the bruises?

He glanced up and for a moment, their eyes met.

Beca felt that blush coming to her cheeks. He caught her staring but there was not way she would dropped her gaze now. She had her fill of being humiliated today. Beca defiantly kept her eyes on him, narrowing them slightly.

Jesse just grunted and looked away, concentrating on the sword on his lap. So what if she was staring at him? She was probably concocting some stupid, devilish stunt to yet make things difficult for him. He ran the sharpening stone against his blade. Just a few more swipes and he would be done. He didn't really need to do this now but it kept his hands busy and gave him an excuse to sit to one side.

She was staring again. He could feel her eyes on him. Her blue, blue eyes that had been hot with fire just now.

Jesse quickly waved that thought away. Wolf would have a field day with that thought.

Say sorry.

JEsse sighed. Too late.

I am not going to say sorry - Jesse said to Wolf sullenly. She's started it.

Wolf just shook his head, trying not to laugh.

You are being a puppy. Say sorry.

No.

Jesse, you know who she is. It is your duty to make her happy. Say sorry.

Jesse shook his head vehemently, swiping the stone forcefully along his blade. It rang discordantly and Jesse dropped the stone in frustration. Wolf sighed in resignation.

Are you not going to recognise her for what she is? You know what she is to you the first time you saw her. Why are you being so stubborn about this?

Jesse's jaw clenched, trying to shut down Wolf's voice in his mind.

I am not being stubborn – he replied stonily - She's not my...

He chose not to continue.

She is not your what?

Wolf's voice was calm but firm, needling its way to his mind. No, he will not answer that question. If he said it, it would be real and Jesse was already sweating at the strength of his denial. No, he could not. How could he? It could not be. And would not be. It was hopeless and maybe if he did not think about it, it would go away.

Jesse was too busy with his thoughts that when he didn't noticed Beca coming over to him. He heard the light steps and the scent of her skin invaded his senses belatedly. He looked up in surprise. She was gazing down at him with her unsettling blue eyes, chewing her lower lip.

"Thank you."

Did she just thanked him? Jesse was immobile with surprise. She had never thanked him before.

"Thank you. For the fish," Beca said slowly, still keeping her eyes on him. She huffed a little before continuing. "And for what you've done so far."

He swallowed a little, nodding. She was still chewing her lip which was making him a little uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," Beca sad in a rush. "I have been very rude to you all this time and I should have known my manners."

"I am your servant, mi'lady," Jesse replied mildly, breaking eye contact. He could not stare that long at her without getting all confused. Jesse turned slightly and set his sword aside. She had thanked him and apologised so surely she would step away and left him alone? Instead, she dropped the sword she used just now at his feet.

"Teach me."

Her voice quavered slightly stared at the sword before looking up at her.

"You want me to teach you?"

"Yes. To fight. Teach me how to fight," Beca said. "Please."

"Now?"

"I need to know how to protect myself." Beca simply said. "You cannot be by my side forever, sir knight."

Jesse grimly nodded. What she said was true. He then picked up the sword from the dirt, tossing it up at her.

"First lesson. That is not how you treat your sword." Jesse said testily. "And we need to start with something a bit more basic."

Amy was woken up at loud grunts and Beca cursing loudly. She heard what sounded like sticks clashing noisily and Jesse yelling out, "Watch your footing!" It sounded like Beca was falling over again.

" - And your back." Jesse continued. There was a small yelp as she heard a stick lightly rapping flesh.

"That hurts." Beca said through gritted teeth.

"Get up."

"Let me take a breath."

"No. Get up." Jesse said bossily. "Will your attacker let you catch your breath? No. Get up."

Beca was swearing loudly but she had scrambled to her feet. Amy heard more clashing with Jesse barking commands at Beca. Yet another sound of wood hitting flesh and a sound of a loud thud.

"I am bleeding!" Beca yelled.

"Blood congeal." Jesse said. "Bones mend. Wounds heal. Suck it up, princess."

Amy had to stifle her laugh when she heard a long string of curses from Beca. More noise of hitting sticks as Beca picked up her dropped stick and continued her training. Amy grinned widely before turning in the hammock and falling back to sleep.

That was how their next few days went. Long periods of riding and whenever they stopped, Beca would insist her lessons continued. She was a quick learner and before long, Jesse let her used a sword to hack at a makeshift dummy, correcting her stance and her technique.

"No. Not like that," he scolded, shaking his head once again. He stepped behind her, adjusting her grip and her arms before placing his hands on her waist, twisting her body slightly. Beca waited for him to scold her another time before putting her through her paces again. He was strangely silent.

Beca frowned, titling her head up at him. "Like this?"

He was staring down at her upturned face. His hands were still on her waist. Beca expression changed as her frown deepened.

"Your eyes," she whispered in surprise.

Jesse immediately removed his hands, turning quickly before stepping a few feet away.

"Look at me, sir knight," Beca demanded.

Jesse did not reply immediately, walking away from her.

"We are done for today," he gruffly said. "Get some rest."

"No!" Beca said stubbornly, running after him. "Turn around and face me."

She was quick and caught his arm, pulling him hard so he would turn. Jesse whirled out in response, a low, gritty snarl falling from his lips. Beca gasped at the sound. At the way his lips drew back, showing his very white teeth. At his eyes which were almost the shade of golden honey.

"I said we are done." Jesse growled menacingly, shrugging her hand away. And this time she let him go.