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Savage Hearts Novel Cover

Savage Hearts

Fyre Everything I did was for love. Every drop of blood I shed was for him, but when it came to him, he turned his back on me. For what? Because I am doomed, the world's end. It wasn't that he never loved me; it was the fear that one day I'd become much more powerful and destroy everything he had built. My heart bleeds, and the only way I will ever get back at him for his betrayal is by seeking revenge. Ronan I've spent my life in the shadows since she died, since the life I loved was ripped from me and left only grief behind. I watched from the sidelines as my family crumbled, pretending I was safe from it when I knew I was not. I thought I had accepted silence until she came-not from my past, not from any recorded memory, but fully, dangerously alive, and entirely... unpredictable. Her power terrifies me. Her fire challenges me. She is someone I should stay away from, but somehow, against every rule I've lived by, she makes the grief in my chest feel... human again. I should stop her. No, hold her. Fear her. I should let nothing slip past my control. But every glance, every unguarded moment, reminds me that surviving her is no longer the same as staying in the shadows. But she is closed off... something I indirectly had a hand in. Alistair I should've been brave like my brother and fought for the woman who made me feel whole again. I should've fought the whole world for her and not been against her, but I failed. Now I want her back, but she is somewhere, protecting herself from me, from everything; it is all my fault. I should never have chosen duty over love. BOOK 1 of The Shadowborne Series
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Chapter 6

Fyre

I am thinking of quitting.

The job has been easy, quiet, strange and unsettling. What am I saying, words can't describe how peculiar it is.

He pays me well that I will not ignore. Does he treat me well? Of course he does. I get to eat at the table, sleep on time, go out, read a book.

I had the freedom but that was something that scares me. Having freedom in a home that wasn't mine which meant I am not exactly free.

Also, there was Mr. Montague as well, I don't know if it's suspicion or curiosity, or maybe even interest, something tells me that it is that. Then again, I tend to overthink and that doesn't help.

Maybe I'm just afraid I am enjoying the comfort too much.

A whole week and there hasn't been a single problem. I mean if Mr. Montague doesn't get off my back, he does well pissing me off without trying too hard or maybe I'm not used to the ease of my situation.

That was it.

I returned from the market, it was exhausting having to argue prices of things and beat it down to a cost so I could take the rest for my pocket, not that I needed it. There is just this satisfaction that comes with bargaining.

"You're back." Mrs. Hawthorne remarked as soon as she saw me. She was holding a basket.

"Let me help you with that." I offered.

"Don't worry, I can handle it." She insisted.

I pressed hard, dropping the bag and going over to take the basket from her hand.

"I will sort out the rest then," Mrs. Hawthorne said.

I took the basket up to Mr. Montague room. The door was left ajar, I knocked twice waiting for his response.

A moment passed.

He stepped up pulling the door open, "I thought it was locked. You could've come in Lara," He smiled allowing me to get inside.

I dropped the basket on the table then turned to leave.

"Thank you, Lara," He said as I passed by him almost at the door.

I paused, turning slightly, "Do you need anything else?" I bothered to ask.

"No," a small amused smile appeared on his face. After a long pause, I turn again to leave, "Lara..."

I came back in.

"Sir."

"Does this look good?" He asked.

I looked over his dressing, he looked alright. I can't exactly praise how well he looked because I hated to my guts every man in this world or beyond, so I didn't find anything particularly different about what he was wearing that he hasn't worn before or any other man in fact.

"It's nice," I tried to leave again.

"It's nice," He made a small gesture with his hand, mimicking my indifference before a smile followed, "Must you always act nonchalant?"

"I'm not." I tried to deny, his head tilted slightly to the side as he studied me skeptically, as though he knew I was lying.

I looked around. The tie lay on the bed untouched.

"A tie would be nice, it will give it a little touch," I said, even though my input wasn't that necessary as he wanted it to be.

"I was looking into wearing it, but I've forgotten how." He admitted.

My brows furrowed slightly.

I didn't question him even as it was in my right to. Maybe he was right, but if he couldn't why bring it out in the first place.

" I'll help you."

I picked the tie and stepped closer, slowly lifting his collar as my fingers brushed lightly against his neck. The warmth of his skin sent a faint tingle through my fingers

"I'm going to a ball," He says without me asking, and adds, "It will just be dancing,"

"Sounds like fun, why do you sound unhappy? You don't like it? You don't find dancing fun? " I asked and continue to adjust the tie, taking my time.

"That's because I find events like this boring, long and excruciatingly formal, just people asking you to invest in endless conversations, can say it's more of a performance of duty than even dancing." He replied.

"Then why don't you stay home, it's so much better than going to kills yourself off in boredom," I said, Mr. Montague let out a soft chuckle, took me off guard as I had no idea what exactly what was funny in what I said.

"I can't. I've skipped several events like this, one might think I'm dead," He said.

I laughed lightly, "Either way you are still dead,"

"You are right."

I left his side, giving him a chance to check himself out in the mirror. He took time so I chose to leave again.

"It's crooked."

"Where?" I came around to check it. Mr. Montague point at the knot, to me it was perfect, I wonder what needed fixing here.

As I readjust Mr. Montague tie, "Have you ever being to a ball before,"

"I'm a maid, who would hire me to such?" I said dismissively.

"Do not belittle yourself, you've worked in places others haven't? I don't even feel comfortable calling you a maid. Your qualifications are impressive, not everyone has that." He said.

I was surprised. He boosted my confidence even if I hate to admit it but it felt so good that he did that.

" I would like for you to come along," He said.

I laughed at the idea, " No. There is a lot to do here,"

" Mrs. Hawthorne will handle it, I will see to it she does or maybe get a temporary maid to do the work if you think that is a problem for you." He replied.

I took my hand off the tie and slowly take a step back.

"Tell Mrs. Hawthorne to give you one of the dresses at the wardrobe, you can wear any of it, your choice." He said.

"I don't want to."

"I insist."

"You would be late if you waited for me. I need to take a bath,"

"That's true, Mrs. Hawthorne did tell me you went to the market earlier." He said. "You can go, I'll wait."

"I haven't agreed yet, I--"

His expression dimmed slightly, not truly sad, just a little drained at my refusal, I simply gave up trying to make any more excuses and just went along with it.

"Fine," I muttered before finally heading out.

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