Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
From what I gather in the years of whispers, Lord Crawe was the king’s regent and the prince’s closest confidant. If anyone has information on the beast, it would be him. When the village first rose against the beast, Lord Crawe put up a valiant effort in the name of vengeance for the prince, but he failed to kill the beast. It’s rumored the beast nearly ripped out the lord’s throat with his massive fangs, but the arrival of the townspeople sent the beast running for the castle, escaping with near fatal injuries. My eyes stare at the faint scar on Lord Crawe’s neck.
Or so the story goes…but with rumors and gossip and tales as old as the town itself, I’m not certain what is true, and I keep my curious thoughts to myself.
After he propositioned me, I was hoping to avoid this man, but in this moment a small part of me wants to engage in conversation with him. To question and pry…I want him to tell me about the beast. Anything that he knows and everything he’s willing to confide.
With my throat tight and my fingers twiddling in the fabric of my apron, I purse my lips at the thought. Lord Crawe isn’t a man that would do anything without something in return. And I’m unwilling to pay the price he demands of me. I keep my lips sealed tight as I make my way toward him, my footsteps padding against the wooden floor. I will find someone else to divulge the secrets of the beast and my enchantment with him.
“How are you, my lord?” I greet him with the tip of my head, steadying myself in front of the bucket and folding my hands in front of me.
“Elle,” is all he offers me, his tone deep and masculine. A heat of embarrassment flows over my skin as I wait for more, but nothing comes.
I haven’t told a soul what happened. I haven’t dared to admit that I was foolish enough to venture into the woods. That I let the magic weave into my mind and limbs, taking me closer to the beast. I’m not even sure if they would believe me, even with his mark on my skin. It’s unbelievable that I survived. And like I said, this town likes to gossip and I’m not one to seek out that kind of attention.
“What can I do for you today, Lord Crawe?” I ask as politely as I can, my voice slightly shaken. I’m still a bit resentful from the way our last encounter ended.
“Please, call me Gavin.” I’d really rather not, but I don’t want to be rude.
“What can I do for you, Gavin?” My cheeks blush involuntarily. I’m sure he’s used to hearing those words from his servants, and the moment I realize that, I wish I could take them back. The handsome bastard has the nerve to widen his smile and lick his lips. Some women would swoon over the look he gives me; at this very moment it makes me want to run. He’s a predator in every sense of the word. And I’m his prey.
He leans across the table, too close for my comfort, and lays his hand palm upward, brushing my fingers. I inwardly cringe, but I force my body to stay still. “You would make a beautiful wife, Elle.” My name lingers on his tongue and it doesn’t feel right.
I pull my hand away and fiddle with my fingers behind my back. I can’t meet his eyes, so instead I stare at the smooth hand still open on the table. Wife? I have far too much respect for myself than to be married to someone as debauched as Lord Crawe. I part my lips to speak and attempt to harden my features, but his words stop my protest before it begins.
“I’m sure your father would agree to my proposal. Would he not?” I meet his questioning gaze and falter. He is quite handsome and I would never have to worry financially, but it would not be love. And I hope when I marry, my husband would be faithful to me. I purse my lips in response. I will have to tell my father immediately that I’m not interested, that I cannot be wed to a man who treats women as he does. Surely if I tell him I don’t want to be married to Lord Crawe, then he will respect my wishes. Wouldn’t he?
I give him a tight smile and clasp my hands in front of me. “I thought you were interested in taking me on as a servant, Lord Crawe? My father didn’t think highly of that proposition.” In truth, I hadn’t told my father of the interaction or offer. I was mortified and I knew my father would be upset by the proposal as well.