N. Walters - Embroidered Fantasies

As cruel as he was, she still felt sorry for him, even though he’d brought this on himself. He’d had a new start after getting out of prison but had chosen the path of destruction instead.

Radnor stood several feet away, his sword lowered by his side. His clothing, chest, arms and face were spattered with blood. His eyes were blank and emotionless. This was her fault. They’d been forced to kill for her.

She swallowed hard, unable to look away. Sednar crouched down in front of her, blocking her view of Radnor. He was covered in blood as well. His eyes weren’t blank, but bleak. She could see the pain in them and shivered. This wouldn’t have happened if she’d never come here.

They’d killed to keep her, to protect her. Their dark fate as Craddocks had been fulfilled because of her. She feared that’s how everyone would see it.

Her visions of having a life here crumbled before her very eyes. They wouldn’t want her now. Not after this. Everything Radnor and Sednar had struggled to build these past six years was now tainted by the blood of the three men they’d been forced to kill.

“Roxanne.” Sednar’s tone was low and even as he cupped her chin in his hand.

“Can you stand?”

She licked her lips, hating the sour taste in her mouth. “I’m not sure.” Radnor swore. Her gaze flew to his as he sheathed his sword in one smooth motion and strode toward her. Shouldering Sednar aside, he leaned down and scooped her off the ground.

Tears pricked her eyes as a sense of safety enveloped her. But it wasn’t real. She couldn’t count on it. Not any longer. Not after what had just happened. What would the people of their keep think? She’d brought death and destruction to their door once again.

A thought occurred to her. “You won’t get in trouble over this, will you?” She had visions of some kind of court proceedings. Maybe they’d lose their land. She huddled closer to Radnor as he swung up on the back of Xander.

“It is not your concern.” Radnor’s clipped words were like a slap in the face. It wasn’t her business because she wasn’t going to be here. The message was loud and clear.

Feeling more miserable than she had in her entire life, Roxanne endured the long, silent ride back to Craddock Keep.

Hours later, Radnor paced the hall outside his room, a killing rage still upon him.

The Luther brothers and Michael Talbot had ruined everything. If they were still alive, he’d kill them again on that premise alone. The look of horror in Roxanne’s eyes, the way she’d cringed away from his touch and thrown up in the field, haunted him.

He wasn’t sorry he’d killed the bastard. If any man had needed killing, it was Talbot. He only wished Roxanne hadn’t had to witness it. He and Sednar had fought side-by-side so many times, they hadn’t even had to think about what to do, had simply reacted. When they’d seen Roxanne’s ex-husband about to hit her, there had been no hesitation. That the other man had run instead of fighting was his choice. He’d died as he lived—as a coward.

Radnor wouldn’t lose a moment’s sleep over it. He’d done what needed to be done.

What any warrior worthy of the name would have. He’d protected his woman.

Only she wasn’t his. Not any longer. Maybe she’d never been his. Maybe they’d never had a chance at her staying. His tainted Craddock blood ran too thick in his veins.

Even she, who was from another world, could see it, feel it.

He looked down at his hands. They were clean now, as was the rest of him. But the stains of battle remained, hidden deep, a permanent marker on his soul.

He glanced toward the door. Roxanne was sleeping, had been for several hours. He curled his hands into fists at his sides. She’d been exhausted to the point of sickness.

Michael had run her into the ground. Still, she hadn’t given up. She’d faced him with nothing more than a rock in her hand.

Radnor unclenched his fist and rubbed his palm across his sternum. His head jerked up as Darrina left the room. She left the door partially open. He moved close enough to peer in. Roxanne was covered in thick furs, sound asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly. Sleep was the best healer.

“She is well, all things considered.” Darrina hefted a bucket with medical supplies in her arms. “I cleaned her up and tended to all her cuts and bruises.”

“Thank you, Darrina.” Radnor didn’t spare the older woman a glance, his gaze locked on the woman sleeping in his bed.

He sensed the older woman’s hesitation and reluctantly pulled his eyes from Roxanne. “Was there something else?”

She shook her head and started to leave, but stopped. “Will she stay?” There was no longer any doubt in Radnor’s mind as to the answer to that question.

“No. Not after this afternoon. She’d been through too much, seen too much bloodshed.

This place holds nothing but bad memories for her.”

The older woman frowned. “It holds much the same for you and Lord Sednar, yet you’ve managed to make a life here.”

Radnor straightened, giving Darrina his full attention. This was the first time anyone here had ever acknowledged that he and his brother were trying to overcome their past and make a fresh start.

Darrina’s hands tightened around the bucket she was holding. “Maybe it’s not my place to say anything, but the lady got me to thinking about things.” She shifted the weight in her arms to her other side. “Anyway, perhaps she’d be able to make a new beginning too. If you’d ask her.”

Having said her piece, Darrina hurried down the hall, her footsteps ringing on the stairs.

“Do you think she’s right?”

Radnor turned to his brother who came up behind him. “You heard everything?” Sednar nodded.

“What do you think?”

Sednar hesitated and his shoulders slumped. He walked to the door and eased it open. “I think there are too many memories for her here. Too many of them bad. She can go back to her world with no fear and start again.” Walking to his brother’s side, Radnor stared at the woman who’d stolen his heart.

He pushed the door open. His feet made no sound as he went to the bedside and stared down at her. She was so precious to him. She was everything he’d ever wanted, ever dreamed of having. He’d had her, if only for a few short days.

“We have to give her up. We have to let her go.”

Sednar came up beside him, his voice a frantic whisper. “We can’t. We love her. At least, I do.”

Radnor knew in his heart that his brother was wrong. “It’s because we love her that we have to.” He knew the pain his brother felt. It was a tearing at his gut that would never go away. “We had her for a short time. She showed us how good life could be.

What happiness is. How can we ask her to stay here with our hands stained in so much blood? She’s already been through so much violence. You saw how she cringed from my touch at first. It was only when she couldn’t stand, she let me touch her. There was no other way for her to get home.”

“There has to be something we can do.” Desperation tinged Sednar’s words.

Shaking his head, Radnor turned his back on Roxanne. “Can you ask her to stay here in a strange, violent land, in a keep where the people fear the lords and violence is everywhere? I can’t.” He stiffened his resolve. “I won’t. Not when she can go back to her own world and be safe. She can begin a new life and this will fade to nothing but a bad dream.” He strode from the room, unable to stay any longer.

Sednar watched his brother leave, his heart heavy. He leaned down and gently caressed Roxanne’s pale cheek. “I love you. Radnor does too.” Sighing, he straightened.