“I know Connell tasted ye,” he whispered into her ear. “That’s the only reason why ye were able to get him to forget about his vengeance.” He chuckled darkly. “I bet it wouldn’t take much for ye to spread yer legs for me. How delicious ye must taste, to get under Connell’s skin after all these years.”
Elsy swallowed, her gaze focused on the ceiling. She heard thumping beneath them, a sharp cry in the air, the swing of one blade crashing against another. Her eyes closed. She was merely imagining things. There was noone coming to save her, no attack underway in the rooms below her. She was on her own. The only person she could rely on to help her escape was herself. She clenched her teeth as Glenton pressed his lips against her neck, his mouth moving downward.
“Do not be afraid, my lady,” Glenton spat. “It will all be over quick.”
Elsy wrenched herself away from him, but Glenton’s hold on her hair tightened. She tried to kick him, but his other hand caught her leg and he pressed it against his hip. He chuckled as he leaned toward her, about to press his lips against hers.
“Nae!” she shouted.
Glenton smirked, his lips nearly upon her, but before he could continue, the door swung open, banging against the wall. Glenton straightened, releasing her, and stepping back while withdrawing his sword. His eyes were wide in alarm, his mouth gaping open. Elsy glanced over her shoulder, hope filling her as she saw the one man she hadn’t expected to see standing in the doorway, his blade drawn.
“Connell,” she whispered.
