Freya hugged her daughter close. “Really, truly. And I will tell you something else. He will love you with his whole heart even though you don’t like cabbage.”
“But if he loves me with his whole heart, what will he love you with?”
“Not to worry, my lovely. He can love us both with his whole heart. That’s what is so wonderful about love. There is always plenty for everyone. Now, it’s time to go to sleep.” Freya kissed the top of Daisy’s head before tucking her in.
“Good night, mama.”
“Sweet dreams, my lovely.”
Freya shuffled across the floor of her prison and sat in the chair next to the tiny window. She stared into the darkness and silently prayed for Graeme to find her.
She clung tightly to the faintest glimmer of hope that she and Daisy would find freedom, but as time passed, she found it more and more difficult to hold on.
She’d tried to escape many times, but she’d stopped as soon as she’d realised she carried Graeme’s baby. Risking her own life was one thing, but she would never take a chance with her own child’s safety.
At least the beast had allowed Daisy remain with her. She’d been terrified when he had discovered her condition. His anger was white-hot and he’d threatened so many unspeakable things. Eventually, his feelings around her pregnancy abated to the point of indifference, but Daisy was his only real leverage and Freya never forgot that.
She was ever vigilant. Always careful to keep the beast’s attention drawn away from her daughter and she did everything in her power to avoid sparking his ire. Of course, there was a side benefit to being compliant—there was a better chance of the beast eventually letting his guard down and presenting her an opportunity to escape with Daisy.
She stared down at the short chain that joined her ankles. Attaching the hobble was the first thing the beast had done after he’d brought her to this prison.
“Maybe this will teach you to keep your legs closed, you filthy slut,” he spat. “Your innocence was supposed to be mine and that bastard, Greymoor, stole it.”
After weeks of the beast letting bits and pieces slip, usually in anger, she’d finally managed to cobble together some sense of the situation.
According to an old prophecy, her virginity was supposed to return the beast to his human form permanently. Now that was no longer possible, and in a fit of vengeance, the beast stole her from Greymoor and meant to keep her prisoner for the rest of her life.
Beyond having Graeme’s daughter, the only other thing that made the situation bearable was knowing she was safe from the beast trying to bed her.
It wasn’t until long after Daisy had been born that she felt sure the beast wouldn’t rape her. He’d hurt her countless times during those first months, and many of those injuries had been so severe, she would have welcomed death with open arms, but he’d never pushed his way between her legs.
She glanced over at the bright light in her life and smiled. If she couldn’t have Graeme, she at least had is baby—a child conceived with so much love. In a perfect world, Freya would unite Daisy with her father, but failing that, she was determined her daughter would be free.
She looked up and blew a kiss into the night-sky. “Good night, my love.”
***
It wasn’t easy, but Walter finally located the sellsword who had claimed his armour had suffered dragon damage. If his mission hadn’t been so serious, Walter might have taken the time to have a bit more fun with the miserable little whoreson.
However, the information he’d gleaned had been too exciting to dally, and he couldn’t wait to share it with the Marquess. He almost went directly to the castle with what he’d been told, but he felt it would be better to go check the situation for himself before getting Greymoor’s hopes up.
Walter recognised the woman from the painting immediately. There was no mistaking that flame-red hair. The surprise was the wee girl at her side.
“Who’s that man, mama?”
“What man, lovely?”
“That man, over there,” the child said as she pointed at the corner where Walter was standing.
“Where? I don’t see anyone.”
This was the first time Walter had been seen when he was positive he hadn’t materialised.
Before the child could speak again, a key rattled in the lock and the door flew open.
Freya pulled the little one behind her body and shuffled them both back into the farthest corner.
“I know you’ve got someone in here, you miserable slut. The brat just said so. You just can’t keep those legs shut, can you?”
“I don’t know what you mean. There’s no one here but Daisy and me, and you know as well as I do, there’s no where for a person to hide in here.”