They were all part of the mafia… an old word for an old world. Operating under the radar, they had their own set of rules and they were absolute. But there was one man who thought he could use the family as pawns in his sadistic game of chess. That man was Sal Bennito. Luci, the only Italian at a boarding school for privileged white girls, was his dirty little secret, his meal ticket, and he planned to punch his card as long as he could.
Bending down, he kissed her full on the mouth in the presence of everyone. She never would have expected such a greeting from Sal Bennito, a man who had risen through the ranks of the underworld. He was monitoring the club that night, as word had gotten around that she was going to be there. She could work the pole like nobody’s business, and Sal had paid a pretty penny for her. She wasn’t aware that she was under constant surveillance by Sal, nor did she know that she was under the watchful eyes of many others. They were all part of the mafia… an old word for an old world. But they preferred the word family. It was cozier, less threatening, and if it was a family, Sal Bennito was everybody’s daddy, whether they knew it or not.
She was young, barely of age, and Sal insisted that she live near the club. He arranged for a local boarding school to let her live in one of the dorms and attend classes with the other girls. Arranged meant that he had paid the headmistress to make an exception just for her. Sal paid a lot for what he wanted, if he wanted it bad enough.
The Stratford School was one of a new breed of preppy boarding schools that seemed to have sprouted up overnight in the Northeast region of the U.S. It was a school for girls who had just graduated from high school and were scheduled to attend an elite university, most likely in the Ivy League, following a year or two spent at the boarding school. Anyone with half a brain could figure out that there was really no need for the new schools, but someone’s pockets were being lined with big bills. Rumor was the schools were run by the mafia, but no one said as much. No one dared.
The Stratford School was a school where girls like Luciana were not exactly welcomed with open arms. Dirty Italians were what girls like Luciana were called, so Sal told the school that her name was LeAnn… LeAnn Wentworth. But to the family, LeAnn Wentworth was Luciana Giordano, and when she danced at the club and worked the pole, she was simply Luci.
Watching Luci on the pole was a turn on to the stodgiest of patrons, and as soon as Luci turned eighteen, she did more than dance for the men. But not for nothing. Time spent with Luci came at a price… a hefty price. She was Sal’s meal ticket, and he planned to punch his card as long as he could.
I tried to push him away, but my arms felt heavy. All I wanted was for him to kiss me, to make love to me, to be the woman he thought I was. But I wasn’t her…
You are her, a voice inside me said with conviction.
I knew he was some kind of monster. I was terrified. He had never touched me beyond the courtesies expected in public, but it had been apparent in his tone that was going to end tonight.
Cohabiting with a polite monster was one thing… bedding one was quite another. My first thought was to flee. But the servants that manned the doors were all his people, ones that could see with his eyes. Damien had grown unbelievably strong these past months. There would be no escape.
I undressed and waited for him in bed, shivering. In a few moments, he entered, then came to stand beside the bed, where he began undressing.
The human that had been my husband had been a drunk, and his body had reflected that. But the new Damien rarely imbibed in smoke or drink, and never ate to excess. I had noticed that his suits had changed in that time, and not just in the expensiveness of their cloth. The proof was there before me in naked flesh, smooth muscle having replaced flaccid fat. Lust at once washed through my heart, and I averted my eyes.
By chance, a geneticist isolated a rare gene in little Kennedy Taylor… the ICTII35 gene. The doctor said, “She’s a witch! Your daughter was born with the witch gene!” Mrs. Taylor had no time to ask the doctor anything. He was out of the room in a matter of seconds. “But I’ve never heard of a witch gene,” she called after him, but he was long gone.
Kennedy certainly is special, and she takes no crap from anyone, especially the young men in her life who find her beguiling. There was one man pestering her so much, sending her flowers and candy, determined to make her a married woman, his married woman, that she waved her wand in his face and he took on a goat-like appearance, with horns and all. Kennedy’s personal assistant, Truman, had to hide the guy in the cellar until Kennedy could research how to undo what she had done. Thankfully, the goat-man didn’t remember any of it.
But that was child’s play compared to her latest stunt. Attempting a new spell, Kennedy ends up killing a man, but can’t remember what she did with the body. Once again, Truman must step in and clean up her mess. This time, he’s digging through dumpsters trying to find where the little witch hid the body, while the woman who runs the inn next door secretly films it all.
A man dressed all in black arrived on the old steam locomotive in the town of Windy Glen. Curious, Bella snuck down to the rundown station to get a firsthand look at the mysterious man that struck fear in the hearts of the townspeople. She questioned his motives and taunted him, causing the quick tempered man to become angry, but he kept his anger in check and his eye on the prize. Luring Bella inside, he promises her a train ride she will never forget.
Dakta had lived there for a while now and he owed the man he knew as Miles. Abandoned, he had been alone when the older man took him in and gave him a place to live. Miles had asked only one thing of him. Dakta would ride the old train into Windy Glen. As he sat in silence, he thought about the list he had brought with him. Bella was not one of the names on the list and he somewhat feared the result of his impulsivity. Miles was looking for someone in Windy Glen, though he would never admit it, and Dakta had not the slightest hint of who that person might be, though he had his suspicions.
Bella came across a news clipping about the death of Miles’ wife. Not only had she been killed by an oncoming train, but the train was being driven by Miles. Oh, my God! The mystery surrounding the woman’s death was never solved and after several years it was ruled accidental. It was believed that Miles had not returned to Windy Glen after that. Bella knew the truth. Miles drove the train into Windy Glen, with Dakta doing his dirty work.
She heard a noise coming from outside the door so she hid in a corner of the room. She couldn’t hide her allergy to dust, however. She sneezed into her shirt, hoping not to be heard. After a while, the voices ceased and Bella resumed her sleuthing. She had to know about Dakta. Miles had hurt him and then he had taken out his rage for Miles on her. She picked up an old book and an envelope fell to the floor. Bella skimmed it quickly, reading the remorseful words of the man’s wife. Bella was deeply engrossed in her reading when she noticed the shadow of a man standing over her. She looked up to see Dakta standing behind her with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face.
“Bella, get up.”
Bella stood slowly, turning slightly toward him. Forcing the papers from Bella’s hand and watching as they leisurely floated to the floor, he grabbed her wrists and held them as tightly as he could. Standing over her, Bella could smell the liquor on Dakta’s breath and the manly scent that emanated from his body.
“How did you get in here?”
“I was looking at the photograph of Miles and the door opened.” Tears began to well up in her eyes and she tried to fight them.
“Looks to me like you hit the jackpot.”
“Why did you stay with him, Dakta?”
The two newly minted lovers did not awaken until the sun’s rays made their way through the thin curtains of the east window. Leah woke first, alarmed that she had spent the night in the arms of a stranger.
Cam kissed her a long lingering kiss, but he knew that soon she would be leaving for Houston to begin her new life. As she dressed, he watched her every movement.
When she stepped into the hallway, she was immediately confronted by him. He was dressed in nice pants and a crisp white shirt, and was holding a tie in his hand. Leah swore her heart stopped at that moment. She stared at the tie in Camden’s hand and watched as he swung it back and forth.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“What are you talking about?”
Camden turned to her, smiling at the look of fear on her young face, as he stood with his hands on his hips, confronting her.
“Are you afraid of me, Leah?” he asked.
“No. I wanted you,” she whispered.
He leaned down and touched her face. “That’s sweet, honey, but who did you really want to be with tonight?”
“You… I wanted you.” She took a deep breath and wondered what happened to the nice man she had met earlier. He now seemed different, unbalanced, and she needed to get away from him.
Mitchell buttoned his shirt and made his way to the center railing overlooking the downstairs entry and staircase. “Remington, is that you?” He could see what looked like a crowd gathered near the front entry, casually dropping suitcases and bags. Remington switched on the lighting to the entry hall. The massive painting of the mansion’s stern matriarch, Remington’s mother, dominated the entry. With a slight smile, she stared harshly at the wet and confused group, and gave off an air of superiority and virtue.
“Mitchell, I have some people I’d like you to meet,” Remington shouted back.
“Did you pick up a traveling circus?” Mitchell asked sarcastically. The man Remington had hired to oversee his massive estate would never fail to be blindsided by the unexpected visitors Remington could bring home. “Remington, a word please. What is all of this?” he asked, as he pulled Remington aside. “These people are not stray cats you found on the highway and need to save.”
“Oh, but this could be fun,” Remington remarked, with the exuberance of a young child.
Mitchell headed for the grand staircase. He could see two figures in shadow, and he recognized Remington’s familiar silhouette. Who was that with him? He watched as Remington leaned in and cupped a face in shadow. And who have we here? Someone to take into my bedroom… my bed? It is my house, is it not?
Mitchell turned around and headed back to the kitchen where he carefully loaded a tray with sandwiches and pastries. “Who’s the lucky woman getting room service tonight?” he asked, under his breath.
He heard the crashing of a plate and turned around.
“I’m sorry, Mitchell. It slipped.”
“Not to worry. Just another ninety-dollar china plate. It was an original design made specially for this house. But again, not to worry. After this storm is over, I’m sure we will have much more to replace than a china plate,” Mitchell said, sarcasm dripping from every word. The devious man who, oddly, reminded Remington of his own mother, had plans for the grand mansion, and they did not include Remington.
Delilah is beautiful, a temptress… but a killer?
Nothing, oh nothing, could be any sillier.
The men in her life unexpectedly die.
She never has time to tell them bye-bye.
The murders are gruesome, the details so gory.
Only the killer would know the whole story.
She's a minister's daughter, or at least that's the rumor.
Could be a setup by someone who knew her.
Delilah is a captivating, daring, and frightening novel… a dark, glittering gem. This could happen in real life. The twist in the plot is a real killer, if you know what I mean! – Kirk's Reviews
A brilliant read with huge suspense! Frightening and fantastic! A truly unexpected ending! 5 stars, Goodreads reviewer
Never saw that coming! I thought I knew who the killer was, but I was wrong… dead wrong! Goodreads reviewer
He had a strange, obsessive attraction to Delilah, so much so that he couldn't bear the thought of her being with anyone else. But the authorities needed more… much more. Delilah was the one with the alter egos, not the men in her life. She was certifiably crazy.
The detective assigned to the case was well aware that he could be the next victim of Delilah, or was it someone else they had missed that was the killer? These were certainly not the usual crimes of passion he was assigned to. This case was disturbing, with each subsequent murder more gruesome than the one before. But the detective couldn't resist the case, and the murderer was well aware of his fascination.
He was a naïve boy who learned to kill. As a member of the Special Forces, infiltrating behind enemy lines was one of his specialties. Falling in love with a spy was not in the plan, but he knew he had to have her. Their love gave rise to a son more dangerous than his father, killing for fun under the guise of a soldier protecting his country. They were ruthless, greedy, wealthy and powerful, and oblivious to the truth of their own identity.
He began planning his covert activities cross referencing names and addresses with people he knew from the States. One name stood out, so he called her and introduced himself. They met at a bar and things went from there. She was gorgeous and sexy, and the naïve boy who was now a man couldn’t resist her. But was she one of them… the enemy, or was she a spy, as he was?
It turned out that she was on his side. “You are a man… a sensitive, loving, attractive man, a man that every woman wants, but…” She was just doing her job and wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship.
When he heard that she was dead, he returned to the States, only to discover that his wife had been mysteriously murdered by an unknown assailant.
A few years later, he met up with his army buddy who informed him that the spy he loved was still alive. She had not died as he believed. But now he was engaged to be married.
His buddy was the best when it came to setting up kill plans, and he would do anything for his comrade in arms. If it meant getting rid of a fiancée, he would gladly do it. He could make any murder look like an accident. He had done it before and he would do it again.
Call it a Crime of Passion… or better yet… a Crime of Slashin’.
Sadie’s new man is kind, and the charm of Emerald Falls is captivating. It’s a small town, a magical, mystical place, and Sadie never wants to leave. But there’s one man who is not so kind. He’s Sadie’s ex, and he demands to see her again… alone. When she agrees to meet with him, she discovers that he is involved in a very shady business. Threatening Sadie to join him, or die in the arms of her new leading man, she goes to her ex but has no idea what she’s getting into. She can forget all about Emerald Falls, or perhaps she can make a deal with the devil.
All you have to do is meet the yacht when you get the call. My limo driver will take you to the dock and then you will bring the shipment back here to me. It’s easy.”
“Ah, Sadie, yours is not to ask or wonder why… yours is but to do or die.”
Sadie stood up. “You don’t scare me.”
She could feel the men behind her coming closer. “We don’t mean to frighten you, but you will do as you are told. This is a business with a very small margin of error. You were a medical student. Doctors are not afforded the luxury of making mistakes. That will be your code name… the doctor. How ‘bout it, boys?”
Sadie heard mumbles behind her as the men agreed. Lin gave Sadie a hurtful smirk.
“The doctor it is. Cheer up, Sadie. Your addiction will be fed at cost.”
Sadie started to say that she did not have an addiction, but she stopped short of saying actual words. “I only have the room for another day.”
“After tomorrow, you will share my suite,” Lin informed her, with a brush of his lips to her cheek.
Sadie cringed at Lin’s touch. He had changed so much that she doubted he would recognize his former self. Sadie went to the door, but she was followed by one of Lin’s men.
“We wouldn’t want you to be alone, Sadie. Who knows, you could change your mind. Maybe that sweet man from Emerald Falls will be your knight in shining armor.”
When Valerie awoke, she noticed that the sun had come up and knew she had fallen asleep. She began to panic and escaped his grasp quickly. She rushed to her clothes and began dressing frantically. When she left, he could sense where she was and what roads she had taken. He had left his seed inside of her. Their baby was his tracking system.
That's when things began to take a dark turn.
Seclusion Lake was the perfect place for Phoenix Ashland to take Bailey, the woman he had fallen in love with. He had been her divorce attorney, and the two of them had just "clicked." They bonded over a cheesy mystery movie, and things had gone from there.
The decision to take Bailey to Morgrove may have been a bad idea, but Phoenix didn't know it at the time he asked her. He would never be the same after their visit.
One day, if all went well with Bailey, he hoped to raise a family in one of the mansions surrounding the lake, and he had his sights set on Gorgie Manor. Of the five mansions, Gorgie Manor was his favorite.
Phoenix and Bailey rented a car from the local airport, and while Phoenix sat in the back seat putting the final touches to some legal matters left over from work, Bailey struggled with the gears of the car.
"Phoenix, they gave you a piece of crap," she whined. "No one could get this thing out of second gear."
"You bet," he answered, clearly not listening.
"No one drives a stick shift these days, anyway."
After driving down the winding road to Seclusion Lake, Phoenix guided Bailey down a concrete path that led to the cabin. At the beginning of the path was a large wooden sign with the number one painted on it.
Each of the five houses surrounding Seclusion Lake had a wooden sign, and each with a different number… one through five. They drove down the path under lowered tree branches that hovered over the road, connecting haphazardly in the middle. The sunlight was hidden from them, the path becoming creepier as they went.
When Bailey stopped the car, the brakes made a high-pitched, screeching sound, and Phoenix cursed.
"I told you this thing is crap!"
They arrived at a black iron gate, and under a black plastic cover on one of the brick pillars, Phoenix entered a code that would open the gate for sixty seconds before it locked again.
The gate opened and they made their final descent into the driveway. The dark, wooden, two-story cabin stood halfway between the rocky and sandy shore of the lake and the lawn that was plush with green grass. Bailey was awestruck. It was the first time she had seen what Phoenix had called the cabin and it took her breath away. It was so much more than a cabin.
Phoenix was finally home after being away for too long. Seeing the cabin always gave him a sense of peace, but this time was different. There was something that didn't feel right.
Now the man who lay there like a god was her husband.
His father was ruthless, and she feared her husband would be just like him.
But she had no idea what awaited her inside his wagon.
“A word of wisdom for you, Luca,” she said. “In marriage, patience will be your best friend. Patience grows love and understanding. Quick pleasure leaves anger and resentment.”
It took Luca a moment to understand what she meant. She spoke of their wedding night, of their time in bed together. He frowned at her, uncertain of what to say. Virgins were new territory to him. The only carnal pleasure he had received in the past was from the well worn bodies of prostitutes.
“I understand,” he said.
“Good,” Jaelle said.
In another part of the world, Annie sat in her room and stared at herself in the mirror. She could still hear her father’s words from when she was a child. He had called her an unwanted child because she had been orphaned and left on their doorstep. She was not quite noble, yet not lower-class, but nonetheless the daughter of a nobleman simply because of the man who had adopted her. If she had been left on the doorstep of a pauper, she would have been shipped off to the circus or hung.
Soon… she would be the wife of man she had never met!
Life is good for Michael. He’s a college professor, with a girlfriend half his age. So why is he having an affair? Because he can. Then the nightmares come, and visions of demons haunt him until he is nearly driven mad. Is his girlfriend playing tricks on him? Does she suspect the affair? Maybe he feels guilty about bedding a girl barely out of her teens. Or, perhaps his girlfriend decided to teach him a lesson. It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it. So much to do… so little time.
He tried to drive the thoughts of the affair from his mind. But it all came back as a fast-paced blur.
Ashley, drunk on white wine, and depressed because her husband didn't make her feel sexy anymore, sat on the bed next to him, her blonde hair tight in a bun.
"I don't know what to do," Ashley said, her voice high-pitched and scared.
"I can't give you an answer about your husband, Ashley," he said.
For a moment, she was silent, and then she released her bun and blonde hair spilled down her back. Standing up, she pulled off the jacket of her white crème business suit and allowed it to fall to the floor. As she unbuttoned her business shirt underneath, he watched in open mouthed horror as she allowed it to fall open and revealed her large breasts that were barely contained in a lacy black bra. He wasn't sure what to do, and he felt his body react, even if he didn't want it to.
"Please do this with me," she begged.
His eyes were filled with her body, and he nodded.
"What about your husband?" he asked, desperate to find a reason to stop. "We shouldn't do this."
She kissed him on the lips and then pulled away, her eyes gleaming. "Let's just not tell him… or Cindy. It'll be okay… our little secret."
He was a good, quiet neighbor, and it was late fall when Wray noticed him sitting beside his pool. She was spying, but that was nothing new. She settled down along the fence and hedge line in a little fort she had created by burrowing deep into the brambly branches.
She strained her eyes, and what she saw freaked her out and changed her life… forever.
At first she thought that Ty was getting busy with one of his girls of the night. She squinted for a better look, thinking that Ty had been spying on Trey and her as they swam naked in her pool. It took a second or two for her to figure out that Ty’s head was at the guy’s throat, and that they were fully clothed.
Stepping forward, she squinted just as Ty looked up, his teeth dripping and his face smeared with something. His eyes locked into Wray’s as she looked down at the neck of the man lying on the deck. The neck was ripped open, streamers of muscle and tendon splayed out like party decorations.
That’s how she discovered that Ty was not only a skank, but a vampire as well. She didn’t remember the scream she let out because she passed out right there in her little hiding place.
When she came to, she was face to face with her neighbor looking as pale as she had ever seen him. Ty paced back and forth on the opposite side of the room.
She heard her own scream as she caught a glance of Ty in the corner. He was just standing there looking as hot as ever, but with a concerned look on his face. It was a new emotion that made him look sinister.
“Calm down, Wray, calm down…,” her neighbor soothed, thoughtfully moving a glass of water toward her.
Wray flinched. She was desperately trying to make herself as small as possible against Ty and whatever kind of monster he was.
“He’s sick, he’s deranged, he’s bad, and he needs to be sent away!” Wray screamed, while pushing herself away from the edge of the sofa.
When Janie is sent to live among the Sioux, she is met by a proud native, as well as his sarcastic remarks and smirky grin. She wants to hate him, but she needs him to survive on the reservation, where life is filled with hardship. Beneath the hard exterior and demeaning words of the proud man lies a warrior with a heart of gold, but he will never allow the privileged young white woman to know the truth about him, or let down his guard in her presence, no matter how much she needs or wants him. He has other intentions.
“You want me to leave, don’t you? You have done nothing but give me a hard time since I got here, with your paleface comments, your smirky grins, your blame, and your backward thinking that I can’t do anything. You are a male chauvinist pig!” Janie could see him clench and unclench his fists and she knew she had gotten to him.
He turned around, pulled her to him, and locked his legs around hers. He placed his strong hands on her face and bent her head back. “You have no idea what I am thinking.”
She stared at him, her face smooshed between his warm brown hands. He towered over her and she felt as if she were shrinking by the second. The blue eyes that stared up at him were kind with their sparkle and their naïve brilliance, and he wished he could build a protective shield around her and keep her for his own.
“What… what is it now, Janie?”
“My face is squished.”
He wrapped her long brown hair around one hand and gently kissed her parted lips. He had not meant for it to happen, but it had, and he didn’t want to stop. He kissed her with passion, and in a way that was new to young Janie. He couldn’t get enough of the woman whose skin was as white as snow. When he felt the slender arms on his back, he held her closer. When he finally found the strength to pry his lips from hers, he held her to his chest and kissed her neck.
Janie turned her head to breathe, and thought about how she had watched him sleeping earlier that day when she stopped at the door to his room. He had worn absolutely nothing, with no blanket covering any part of him. He was perfect… all of him. His chest was broad, his stomach like a washboard, his legs as thick as tree trunks, and what lay between them was meant to be hers and no one else’s. She had tiptoed quietly by, wishing she were not a virgin.
He pulled her down onto the bed and spread her legs across his body with his meaty thighs. He smoothed his hand between her legs and felt the heat that emanated from her. Maddy moaned, and he stripped the bikini panties from her beautiful body and brought her to him to feed his primal hunger.
He looked into her eyes and a slight smile spread across his face. He gently stroked her cheeks as he kissed her parted lips. He pulled her close to him and lay down beside her, holding her and comforting her, as he thought she needed him to do.
Maddy couldn’t sleep, and as she held tightly to her mate, she thought about Mrs. Wolf. She was underhanded and manipulative, and she played the game well. But why wouldn’t she? It was her game.
I tried to push him away, but my arms felt heavy. All I wanted was for him to kiss me, to make love to me, to be the woman he thought I was. But I wasn’t her…
You are her, a voice inside said with conviction.
“You were my mother’s lover,” I gasped out, breaking away again. “How can you tell me that you loved only me?”
“I had to find you, no matter how long it took.” He kissed my lips once more, then hugged me close. “Waiting for you to grow up has been hardest of all,” he murmured, with lust in each word.
“It was you I felt in that hallway,” I said weakly. “Wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” He kissed my face, my lips, and my cheeks. “Do you see now why I could not live with you as a father? I had to wait until you were a woman.”
Wilson stroked her long blonde hair, running the silky strands through his fingers. Vicki slowly looked up, and he lowered his lips to hers. It was the first time a man had wanted her in a long time, and it felt good, too good, and Vicki kissed him as she would a lover, pressing her body to him and standing on tiptoe to give him more. She wanted to feel him deep inside her.
Wilson pulled back and looked into her eyes, questioning her. “What do you want from me, Vicki?”
“I want you,” she whispered.
“I can make no promises, given…”
“I don’t need promises,” she said.
She felt his strong arms wrap around her. His skin was smooth and warm and Vicki didn’t want to let go.
The man with skin as dark as night could do with her whatever he pleased. He lay over her, smothering her small body with his large frame. She felt safe and protected. He kissed her and she reached for him, urging him to fill her completely. He watched her, this beautiful woman beneath him, who wanted him more than any woman had wanted him. Her slender arms around him made him feel like a man… a feeling he thought he had been robbed of forever.
They said he was a bad seed after killing his own brother, but they didn’t know the truth.
The heroine is gritty, the hero is savage and sexy. Treat yourself to this provocative, sexy novel.
An insanely gorgeous wolf PLUS a hunted gal on the run from her MASTER.
Lost in the woods and in danger of being captured by her former master, Victoria encounters a strange, attractive man. When she learns he’s the owner of an estate hidden far from any village or town, she begs to work for him in exchange for protection. He reluctantly agrees, not wanting his secret to be known. Before long, Victoria discovers more about him, something very primal and primitive. She can’t resist him, though she has no idea what he really is.
Leon entered a dungeon where a pair of metal shackles were fastened to a brick wall. There was no window, lest the townspeople hear his wild cries. There was only a piece of brown cloth lying on the ground to tear at while he was in his werewolf form.
Leon staggered into the dungeon and backed up against the wall with his hands up. Donovan nervously placed the shackles around Leon's wrists and snapped them shut. Leon was completely shackled to the wall with no hope of being released.
"Do you need anything while you're here, sir?" Donovan asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
Leon awoke the next morning with a groan and began to pull at his shackles. Where was Donovan… the blasted boy?
"Donovan, where are you?"
A few minutes passed, and then he watched as Donovan opened the door.
"Donovan?" Leon cocked his head.
"S… sir." Walking forward, Donovan pulled out the key and unshackled his wrists. "Are you okay?"
A moment went by as Leon scrutinized Donovan. "You looked, didn't you, Donovan? You saw." Leon shook his head. "I warned you not to."
"You can leave," Leon said. "I absolve you of your servant duties. I certainly don't want a servant who cannot obey orders. I could have devoured you."
"But what will you do? And what if you escape this house in your werewolf form?"