Hunted: A Claiming Novella (The Claiming) (17 page)

“Who knows at this point? We’ve only
begun our interrogation. We hope to learn more about her motives during the
trial. Maybe she hates us all and wants us to die. Maybe they offered her
something she couldn’t resist. As I said…who knows?”

“Are you certain of all this?” Patrick
asked.

“Absolutely certain. Penelope Farris
witnessed a conversation between Lysse and one of the Avas. Penelope claims she
heard Lysse say many things, one of which was her planning the attack. Lysse
chose the time of the Claiming because she knew our defenses would be at our
weakest with guards patrolling the arena. She fed them information which led to
Tarlèan deaths. There can be no other option for her but execution.”

Patrick remained quiet for several
minutes.

“When will her trial be?”

Lyle shrugged. “In a few days? A few
weeks? It’s difficult to say at this juncture. We’re still gathering our case
against her. It’s solid. I’ll repeat myself to make it clear. She will be found
guilty as a traitor. Is there anything you can tell me that can help?”

“Help?” Patrick laughed.

“I don’t like this any more than you do.
I liked her—”

Suddenly enraged, Patrick turned on
Lyle, slamming his hands down on the desk and knocking over a goblet of water.
“
Liked
her? You didn’t like her. You never cared for her. You only
wanted her because I did. Admit it. Admit what you did and maybe I’ll tell what
you want to know.”

Lyle came to his feet, unable to handle
Patrick hovering above him.

“Fine, if that’s what it takes. I…” he
hesitated. Apologizing didn’t come easy to him. “I possibly noticed her because
she was with you. But that had nothing to do with her leaving you for me.”

“Bullshit! Say it,” Patrick ordered. His
eyes flashed with righteous anger, hands pushed hard enough on the desk to shove
it an inch.

“All right, I’ll give you this. I might
have chosen her because I wanted to…take…her…from…you.”

Each word came out like a tooth being
pulled one at a time, and very slowly.

Satisfied, Patrick nodded grimly. “I
knew it.”

A knock on the door and Reece entered.
“Your Highness, your next appointment is here.”

“Fine, thank you,” Lyle said, dismissing
Reece.

Patrick leaned heavily his cane as he
strolled for the door. “I’ll be going. I find I’ve had enough chatter for
today.”

“We had a deal,” Lyle growled.

Patrick spun back around with an
indolent expression on his face. “Ah, yes, that’s right. I suppose I could tell
you that my little story earlier wasn’t quite the truth. I went to that room
because Lysse told me that’s where Ryon Ward would be.”

Lyle considered it. “And why were you
going to see him?”

Patrick smirked, then shrugged.

“Were you going to sabotage him?”

Another shrug.

“But you were attacked. It wasn’t by
Ryon. He would have said something. Who attacked you, and how did you get that
bruise on your face?”

Patrick glanced down at his injured leg.
Even still, he wore a cool air of confidence that kept the duke bathed in
smarminess. “Then I guess it wasn’t him who attacked me. Someone did. An Ava, I
believe. The claw marks down my chest would attest to that.”

Lyle could see that he’d gotten as far
as he could with his brother.

“Now, if you don’t mind. I have a silver
mine to see to.”

 With that, he turned and departed.

Chapter 16

For the fifth time that morning,
Penelope placed her bare feet on the wood floor only to hear Ryon’s boots
stomping down the hallway toward her room in the next instant.

“Damn,” she cursed, and hopped back into
bed.

His head poked in the doorway, eyes
narrowed suspiciously, just missing her pulling her legs back under the sheets.
“What did I say about getting up?”

“But I didn’t get up.” She threw in an
innocent smile for good measure.

His narrowed gaze hardened like granite.
“I heard the floor creak. I know what you’re up to. You’ve been trying to get
out of that bed all day. The doctor said you have stay at least another day
minimum
.”

“Another day minimum!” she nearly
shouted. “If I have to sit in this bed for another day I’m going to explode. I
can’t stand it, I tell you. I feel perfectly well. Not sick at all, see my
face? No pallor at all. See my wound? Nearly healed up—”

“
Nearly,
” he pointed out. “You
still have a bandage the size of a scarf around your neck for a reason, Pen.
You won’t be moving until the doctor clears you.”

Penelope looked outside her bedroom
window to send a withering glare to the environment. She couldn’t keep from
crossing her arms and scowling. She did not like being ordered around and she
did not like sitting in her bed for hours on end. She wasn’t some immobile
person too sickly to even walk. She wanted to move, to dance, to feel alive
again.

“The wound is being entirely over
exaggerated,” she muttered.

“Love, you were bitten by a mad
Avagarian. We need to let the wound heal properly and not cause any more
damage.”

Ha! She wanted to laugh in his face.

“You know…I was thinking. What’s going
to happen to that woman, you think?”

“Lysse?”

She confirmed with a nod.

“We’ll have to wait and see. Tomorrow
begins the trial. We’ll give our honest testimony. That’s all we can do.”

Ryon came over to her side and grabbed
her hand, eyeing the damage under her bandage. She knew her skin still looked
rough but it was far better than it had been.

“Pen, I know you’re bored and I know
you’re afraid, but you need to trust me.”

She laughed at that. “You know that’s
always been my problem, trusting you.”

“Yes, well, today’s the beginning of you
trusting me. It starts right now. This very minute,” he said.

She swallowed over the sudden lump in
her throat. If she weren’t careful her stupid eyes would start misting too. “I
love you, you know.”

He smiled, a big smile that crinkled the
corner of his eyes. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear that.” He
leaned down, the bed dipping with his weight, and he pressed a kiss to her
lips.

Her breath caught. The kiss was nice and
warm. She went to deepen it, but he pulled away, cheeks darkening with color.
“Now isn’t the right time for this. No matter how much I want to.”

Scowling, she looked back out her window
again. Ignoring him. “Fine.”

He laughed. “Love, it’s not like that.
You know I’ve been mad over you for years. But now is not the right time. Your
wound is still too fresh, and I have to leave for work. There’s a lot more to
take care of since the attack.”

“My wound doesn’t even hurt,” she jumped
in to say. “I can roll my neck and everything. There’s a faint soreness. It
feels more like a bruise more than anything. I don’t see why I can’t at least
walk around.”

His eyes narrowed. “Fine, you can walk
around—” her eyes lit up with hope, “—in your room. But nowhere further.”

A big sigh. “This is utterly ridiculous,
I say.”

He grinned. “I have to go.”

She sat up, nearly bumping their noses
together. “Leaving? How long will you be gone? You can’t leave me here alone.”
On second thought, she quieted, a devious plan forming. If he left, she could
dance around the house for all he knew. What a glorious idea. She smiled at him
kindly. “Oh, that’s such a swell idea and where are you going?”

Something in the way he watched her said
he knew what she was up to. “I have to meet with the king and take care of some
other business. Military work. The trial for Lysse Karmine begins tomorrow.
I’ll be testifying. You’ll have to give your deposition the following day. You
should be mostly healed by then.”

Penelope’s happiness deflated. “I see.”

“Also, since I have to leave for a few
hours, I’ve invited your sisters over.”

The knock came at the first floor door.
“And that would be them, I suppose?”

“You don’t have to look glum about it.
They are your sisters. Thought you might like a break from me being your
caretaker.”

“Ah, yes, exchanging one prison guard
for another.” She didn’t like her bitter attitude; it stank of petulance, she
knew. But she’d been in this bedroom for three, very, very long days.

Chuckling, he gave her another kiss.
This time she turned her chin away from and his lips landed her cheek. Leave it
to him to continue laughing while he kissed a path up her jaw to behind her
ear. Chills swept over her and tingles of pleasure grew where he kissed the
skin of her neck.

“I do love your sense of humor, Pen.”

She grabbed onto his shoulders as he
nuzzled her neck. How easy he could take her breath away, she thought.

“And I like you well enough.”

“Is that all?” he asked, still laughing.
Obviously, he didn’t believe her.

“I suppose I might love you…some.” The
words felt right to say to him. To think she’d pushed him away all this time.
How silly it all looked now that she’d opened herself to him.

Stomping at the staircase indicated her
sisters were near.

“When will you be back?” she asked.

“Tonight, late evening most likely.
Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone, yes?”

One corner of her mouth popped up—that
sounded like a challenge. He spotted her grin and sent her a reprimanding
look—one a parent saved for a child about to steal an extra cookie.

She could see he wasn’t going to let up
unless she eased his fears. “Fine. I agree not to do anything. I’ll remain ever
invalid for you, my love.”

He bit back his laughter as her sisters
came into the room. Priscila held a large pot with what Penelope smelled was
her mother’s delicious chicken soup. Penelope’s favorite dish. Her stomach
rumbled at the aroma.

Priscilla set the soup down on the
table. “See, I told you, Phoebe. She’d love some soup about now. Who knows what
this beast of a man has been feeding her the past few days? Jerky and raw meat,
probably.”

Ryon looked like he was deciding whether
to respond or not. Neither he nor Penelope corrected her sister to say he had,
in fact, had been feeding her nothing but healthy, delicious meals since he’d
come to her house to take care of her.

Phoebe had brought a vase of yellow
daffodils. The room looked instantly brighter with them in the room. Daffodils
were Penelope’s favorite flower and they always made her smile when she looked
at him. “Phoebe, they are so beautiful. Thank you!”

Her youngest sibling, Phoebe, set the
vase on the table near the bed. Phoebe never would admit it, she was too shy,
but she was an incredible gardener. She kept a flower and vegetable garden at
her house. When she wasn’t off at work teaching archery for the military, she
could be found knee deep in soil in the backyard. Maybe shy wasn’t the best
term to describe her sister. Phoebe never did take stock of her
accomplishments; she could never see how talented she was. She assumed she was
average, or below, when that was not the case at all.

“I’m going to get going,” Ryon said,
leaning over Penelope to give her a sweet kiss. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She stared into his lovely eyes and
smiled back. “Tonight,” she agreed.

After the front door slammed closed and
she heard his horse trotting off, Penelope flung the covers off her body and
sat up.

“Thank goodness!”

“Whoa there, sis!” Priscilla called,
coming to halt her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Penelope shrugged. “I’m perfectly fine. He’s
being overprotective. I need to walk around. I’ve been cramped in this bed for
three day.
Three days!
”

She let that sink in to her sister’s
heads. They nodded, begrudgingly, and allowed her to stand up.

Feeling began returning to her limbs
with pinprick stabs of sensation. She smiled at the tingles of awareness and
carefully placed one foot after the other until she walked to the opposite side
of the room—to the soup.

They ate their mother’s recipe for
chicken soup, filled with yummy dumplings and potatoes, and ate a piece of
crusty bread with it. When they were full, Penelope convinced her sisters, as
she
was
the oldest, for them all to head downstairs. She had to hold the
railing as she took each step, one at a time, but she made it.

Each minute she was on her feet she felt
her strength coming back to her.

A few hours later, the sun began to sink
down below the horizon. Her sisters looked ready to leave and get back to their
own lives as they ran out of gossip and things to dish about. Ryon would be back
soon and Penelope had her own plan she’d been secretly concocting all day long.