The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(55)

The horse rode hard and fast. It neighed, high and loud, very close by, then stopped. A loud growl sounded behind her—a man’s growl this time.

The wolf’s eyes bulged as it jumped, propelling itself toward Avelina.

She closed her eyes and waited for the impact.





20



REINHART PLUNGED TOWARD the group of wolves surrounding Avelina. One of the wolves was crouched and ready to lunge.

He unsheathed his sword and leapt off his horse. The wolf lunged at her throat and Reinhart brought the sword down on its head, knocking it to the ground.

Reinhart dove at the wolf that was holding Avelina’s ankle in its jaws. He brought the blade’s edge down on the wolf’s neck, severing its head from its body.

The other four wolves advanced on them. Reinhart stepped toward them, raising his sword. One animal leapt at his head. He stepped to the side and the wolf’s teeth latched on to his shoulder.

Reinhart stabbed it with his sword and it fell to the ground.

At the same time, another wolf caught his sword arm in its teeth. He switched his sword to his left hand and slashed the blade across the wolf’s belly and slung it to the ground.

The remaining wolves backed away, whining, slinking into the trees.

“You’re hurt,” Avelina said behind him.

He turned around. Her ankle was still trapped inside the wolf’s jaws, even though it was dead, and blood surrounded her, bright red against the white snow. Her arm was also bleeding through her sleeve, but she was staring with wide, dazed eyes at his injured shoulder and arm.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

Reinhart dropped his sword in the snow and fell to his knees at her feet. He took the wolf’s jaws in his hands and pried them open, gently removing them from her ankle, then threw the head on the ground.

More blood dribbled down her ankle. He grabbed a handful of snow and pressed it against the puncture wounds, and Avelina collapsed backward onto the ground. Her lips were blue and her face was deathly pale. His heart twisted inside him, as if it were being clenched inside a fist.

“I have to get you out of here, out of the cold, and stop the bleeding. Put your arms around my neck.” He bent over her.

She blinked up at him as if she did not hear.

“You’re hurt,” she said again, reaching toward his shoulder.

He slid his arms underneath her and picked her up, trying to ignore his own pain.

Her teeth started chattering, just as they had after he pulled her up from the edge of the balcony, as he carried her to his horse.

More horses topped the hill above them—Jorgen, Odette, and two guards. The guards reached him first and dismounted.

Reinhart handed her to the first guard. “Hold her while I mount my horse.” He glanced at the others. “Jorgen, Odette, go after them. They went east, at least three.”

Reinhart mounted his horse and reached for Avelina. The guard handed her back to him. He turned his horse toward the castle and started up the hill.

He held her tightly in his arms. She was so pale. How much blood had she lost? She seemed to be losing consciousness. She needed to stay awake.

“How did this happen?” he demanded. “What were you doing out here?”

Her teeth slammed together so hard he wasn’t sure she could speak. She huddled against his chest. “Irma s-said w-we had to l-leave. Fronicka . . . sh-she t-told Irma t-to leave me . . . in the s-snow. Th-the wolves came.”

She clung to his shirtfront, blood soaking through her sleeve, but he feared her ankle was her worst injury.

“You’re hurt,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She had that dazed look on her face, a dangerous symptom he had seen once before in a soldier who had been badly injured. And if she did not get warm . . .

He urged the horse to go faster as they came to the steepest part of the road to the castle. The horse’s hooves slipped on the snow but kept fighting upward. They finally made it to the castle steps.

Reinhart managed to hold her as he dismounted. He carried her toward the castle.

A guard ran down the steps and took Avelina from his arms, several more guards behind him. He carried her into the castle, with Reinhart just behind them.

“Fetch Frau Schwitzer. Send someone for the healer in the cottage in the forest. Fetch a bucket of hot water and clean cloths and bandages, and build up a fire in the front room.”

A maidservant scurried into the room ahead of the guard who carried Avelina in. A fire was blazing in a small fireplace and the servant was already throwing more wood on it.

“Put her on that couch next to the fire,” he said.

Avelina sucked in a quick breath, as though a sudden pain struck her. The guard laid her on the couch in a sitting position, with her legs stretched out on the cushions. Reinhart grabbed a large fur and laid it over her, pulling it up to her chin, then he knelt at her feet and found them bare. She must have lost her shoes in the snow.

Shoes. He told her he would get her some more shoes after the balcony incident. He’d forgotten.

Her feet were like blocks of ice, and her toes were purple. He started rubbing her right foot between his hands. She inhaled another sharp breath. At least she was waking up and no longer had that dazed, vacant look in her eyes.

Another woman servant came in. Reinhart ordered her to rub Avelina’s other foot.