Dark Warrior (Warrior #2) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Warrior Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
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“Do you shed that tear for me?”

Chapter 23

“Michael,” she whispered and looked to the dark shadows in the room.

He drifted out of the darkness, swathed in his black shroud, and she jumped up and ran to him. He caught her in his strong arms hugging her tightly to him, melding them together as one, never to be parted.

How she wished never to be parted from him, and the aching thought made her cling more tenaciously to him.

“I have missed you,” she said, “so very, very much.”

“And I you.”

She tilted her head and closed her eyes wanting him to kiss her.

He did not disappoint her. He kissed her like a man separated too long from the woman he loved, and she returned the same in kind.

Their lips were warm, the taste bittersweet, and the kiss pure magic. Neither wished to part, but time was not on their side.

Mary slipped her hand beneath his mask needing to feel his face. He was warm and solid, and real. “You are not safe here.”

“No one knows I am here.”

“Decimus hunts you,” she warned, fearful for him.

“He will not catch me. I know him too well.”

“You cannot be sure.”

“I will not leave you to him. You are mine. I love you and will see you safe.”

She smiled and moved her hand to rest on his chest. “I feel protected when you are near.”

“You are always safe with me by your side.” He squeezed her to him and nuzzled her neck. “I wish there were more time.”

“It is dangerous,” she said, though she wanted desperately to make love with him.

“One taste of you has intoxicated me, and I will not be satisfied until I have tasted you again.”

“I wish to quench my thirst with you as well, but I fear for you.”

“Do not fear for me, I know what I do.”

She suddenly remembered Roarke and hurriedly told him of what she had done.

“Worry not, Roarke is safe and will remain so.”

They were startled apart by footfalls on the stairs.

“Go,” she urged him.

“Tonight,” he whispered as he returned to the shadows. “I come to you.”

She smiled and shivered in anticipation.

A tap at the door had her calling out, “Enter.”

A young servant girl entered the room cautiously, her eyes wide, her face pale. “Lord Decimus insists on your presence in the great hall.”

The girl was obviously distraught and Mary wondered if something was amiss.

Mary hurried down the steps and entered the hall. Magnus and Thomas, along with their wives, stood near the dais.

“What is wrong?” Brigid asked worried.

“Decimus ordered Mary to the hall,” Magnus said. “He is in a rage about something.”

Mary placed a hand to her churning stomach. Had he discovered the Dark One’s presence?

Decimus stormed into the hall and stopped abruptly when he saw the others surrounding Mary. He looked as if he had rushed, perspiration dotting his forehead.

“I demanded your presence, Mary. The rest of you are dismissed.”

Magnus stepped forward, his expression stern. “I think not. I give the orders in my keep.”

Decimus glared at him with furious eyes that looked heated with the fires of hell. “My power exceeds yours.”

“Not in my home.”

Decimus stepped forward. “You will—”

Mary hurried between them. “I am at your service, my lord.”

“At least someone knows her place,” Decimus said and grabbed Mary by the arm.

Magnus looked ready to reach for Decimus’s neck when his wife walked up beside him and took his arm.

“You will make it worse for Mary,” Reena whispered.

Magnus calmed and murmured. “All would be well again by killing the bastard.” He reluctantly bowed to his wife’s wisdom and stepped back.

“How dare you insult me,” Decimus said in a fury to Mary.

“Insult you? I know not what you talk about.”

“Your wedding dress,” he said as though his words explained all.

She looked blankly at him.

“I heard talk the dress is plain.”

“There is something wrong with that?” she asked, baffled by his concern with her dress.

“I distinctly told you to make certain the dress signified my high status in the Church. Only a peasant wears a plain dress for her wedding. I expect rich material and a dress adorned with many jewels.” Decimus ranted. “I will not be insulted on my wedding day by a bride who dresses beneath her station.”

Mary did the only thing she could to appease the frantic man. “I apologize and meant no disrespect to you.”

“You do not take our wedding seriously.”

Mary bit her tongue, wanting to rant herself.

“I am generous with you and here you disregard my offer of salvation.”

She eased her arm from his grasp. “I do not need saving.”

“All the wicked need saving.”

She could argue with him but it would do her little good. His beliefs were heavily ingrained in him, and he would allow no room for new thought. She would not waste her time on the ignorant.

“I will see that the necessary changes are made to the dress.” She looked to Brigid who nodded, letting her know she would take care of it.



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