Page 106 of Dark Rival

A moment later, a solider in uniform came into the hall, carrying what looked like a dead puppy in his hands. Allie cried out, for the pup wasn’t dead, but it had been clubbed and it was unconscious. It was badly hurt and eventually would die.

Ailios, no!

She shook with horror, overcome with compassion for the suffering dog, the urge to rush to it and instantly heal it overwhelming. She’d heard Royce, but could think of nothing other than how she must heal the black and white puppy.

“Heal the mutt,” Joan commanded.

Dinna do it.

Allie trembled, moving toward the soldier with the pup as if entranced. How could she turn from the vows she’d taken, before the Ancients and her mother?

She’ll take ye far from here. Ye’ll be her prisoner.

Allie stopped in her tracks. The spotted pup’s lashes flickered and she felt tears gathering as its pain washed over her, around her. And she folded her arms tightly around herself. “I can put the puppy in a soft bed, inspect it for broken bones and try to splint any,” she managed hoarsely. “May I take the dog to my chamber and try to ease its pain?”

“Heal it now, before me and all the witnesses in this room,” Joan demanded.

Allie felt the tears falling down her cheeks. It was hard to speak. She hated Joan—she hated the soldier—for cruelly beating this tiny dog. “I can’t.”

Livid color diffused Joan’s face.

Royce stepped forward. “She canna heal such a wounded animal, Yer Majesty.”

Joan looked ready to break something—or order someone broken. “Get the animal out of here,” she snapped.

Allie gasped. “Let me take it to my room, please!”

But the guard was leaving and Joan turned a narrow blue gaze on her. “We will have the gown now.”

Allie froze.

Joan smiled cruelly. “Give Us the gown.”

Royce said tightly, “Ye canna treat my ward in such a manner.”

Joan looked at him. “You mean, your mistress? We will take her to court anyway, where she will learn respect. And We will treat her as We choose. Be pleased, Ruari, that We do not take her head, and that, mayhap, We will send her back to you sometime.”

He stood there breathing hard.

Allie looked at him. Don’t do anything. Let her have her moment of power.

Royce stood there, fighting his fury.

“Give Us the gown.”

Allie swallowed hard. Joan wanted to debase her, and she was succeeding. It was unbelievable that she had to obey this monster of a woman. Suddenly aware of the fact that several guards stood by the front door, she jerked on the zipper. Then she let the red dress fall to the floor around her ankles.

Everyone stared.

Allie only wore a white G-string and she flushed with embarrassment. Somehow, she held her head high as she stepped out of the circle of fabric.

She felt Royce’s outrage.

She looked at him. It’s all right, Allie tried. I hate the stupid dress anyway.

His aura was the dark, deep, violent red of a man ready to erupt in fury. But he unpinned his plaid and whipped it about Allie’s bare body. Allie had never been more grateful for anything. Then he retrieved the gown and handed it to Joan.

Joan stared at her and then at him. “Tonight you will come to me, Ruari. And you will not be thinking of Lady Monroe. She will go to the Tower.”