A CHILL RAN DOWN HER SPINE . .
.
. . . with the realization that she was
looking at an empty coffin.
Was it for her? Were there other
coffins in there? Final resting places for naïve women who had
wandered into Wolfram Castle, never to be seen or heard from
again?
A sob rose in her throat as the door of
her hiding place opened and Drake stepped into the
room.
“Elena. Elena!” He stroked her hair,
hoping to calm her. “You are safe now.”
She stared up at him, wide-eyed and
fearful. “Is it . . . is it . . . for me?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Then . . . why?”
He ran a hand through his hair,
wondering how to explain.
When he didn’t immediately reply, her
brow furrowed. “You’re not sick, are you?”
He laughed softly as he sat down beside
her. “No, I am not sick.”
“Then why . . . ?”
“It has been in there for centuries.
Are you not curious about what those men wanted?”
“I know what they wanted.” She wrapped
her arms around her middle. “Me.”