Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

moving from tranquility to a storm over the moors.
    With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Evangeline ran, weaving through the throngs, her eyes intent on the screened passage. In a moment she was thrust into darkness, running blindly, afraid she might hit a wall or a door, completely unable to see, yet knowing she could not stop because Raven was behind her and he could see perfectly well in the dark.
    A crack of light under a door twenty feet ahead of her seemed her only chance. Bursting through the door she found herself in the kitchen. It was empty, giving her a moment of relief. Then a door opened across the big room bringing with it a blast of cold air. A young man stepped inside carrying an armload of wood. “Can I help you, Miss?”
    The way out! Evangeline reached the outside door just as the kitchen door flew open behind her and Raven bellowed, “Grab her!”
    In an instant Evangeline was outside. A racing wind tore at her clothes and filled her ears with its fury. Fear drove her on into the night. The moon appeared and disappeared behind clouds, reappearing yet again as the clouds raced across it. Evangeline ran headlong, barely able to see, not knowing where she was going.
    Raven followed.
    On Evangeline ran, struggling through the dense moorland grass and undergrowth. She began to flounder, stumbling and falling only to struggle to her feet again. She looked back continually but she did not see him.
    “Evangeline!” His voice cut through the wind, reaching her, Sanguinarian 135
    surrounding her, making her stop in her tracks before launching herself again at the night with a scream.
    Raven caught her about the waist. Lifting her easily off her feet, he swung her high up over his shoulder, holding her ankles in one strong hand. She screeched her fear and rage into the night. Her struggles were futile against his immense strength. Without speaking he carried her back to the castle.
    Evangeline’s heart sank, first with fear, then anger, when Raven carried her back into the lamplit kitchen and through into darkened passages. They began ascending dark steps, her chance for freedom growing dimmer with every stride he took. She had no idea where she was. She expected him to take her back to the tumbledown tower, but instead he proceeded through the black corridors until at last they entered a chamber. Without pause he tossed her into the middle of a huge bed before lighting a single candle.
    Looking like a startled fawn, Evangeline gazed about her. Her hair had fallen free of its ribbon, her knees were grazed and bloodied from falling on the rough moor grass and her gown was wet with snow. She sat on a four poster bed draped with heavy, black velvet curtains and red silk covers. The windows of the vast, dark chamber were covered in black curtains. The furniture was big and old-fashioned, of highly polished dark mahogany wood. Raven stood at the foot of the bed, his hands on his hips.
    “How did you get out, Evangeline? How did you escape me yet again even after I warned you of the dangers of such an act?”
    Still panting, she found it difficult to speak. “Someone left the door unlocked.”
    “No one left the door unlocked.” He went quickly to the adjoining dressing room and returned saying, “I have checked the pocket of the coat I wore yesterday. The key is gone. Only Munk and I had keys to the tower. How did you get mine?”
    A little more in command of herself now, she made a pathetic attempt at nonchalance. “I stole it from you.”

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    Fyn Alexander
    “That would be impossible. I would have known,” he said decisively.
    Lady Ravenscroft had threatened to kill her if she told him she had visited her.
    “Dominica!” he said, suddenly and loudly, making her jump. “She must have left after I fell asleep. She must have suspected you were in the castle. She would never have left me otherwise. What did she say?” He lowered his voice and he asked softly, “What did she do?”
    “I don’t know what you are talking about. I never waken at night.”
    “I suppose it could have been worse,” he said quietly. Did he even care that her life had been threatened?
    “The first time I ever saw Lady Ravenscroft was in the Great Hall with you,” she lied. “Why didn’t you tell me you were married already?”
    “Married?” He frowned. “Yes, I suppose in some ways I am.”
    Evangeline was about to berate him for his duplicity, argue with him for his deceit, when she stopped. He had begun to