The Warlords Revenge

Also From
Phaze
Books

By Alyssa Morgan

The Warlord’s Promise

This is an explicit and erotic novel

intended for the enjoyment

of adult readers. Please keep

out of the hands of children.

www.Phaze.com

The Warlord’s Revenge

Copyright © 2011 by Alyssa Morgan

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Edited by Judy
Bagshaw

Cover Art © 2011 by
Niki
Browning

First Edition

ISBN-13:
978-1-60659-639-5

Published by:

Phaze
Books

An imprint of Mundania Press LLC

6457
Glenway
Ave., #109

Cincinnati, OH 45211

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Mundania Press LLC, 6457
Glenway
Avenue, #109, Cincinnati, Ohio 45211, [email protected].

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

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None of this was real. It couldn’t be. Everything had happened so fast, maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. But there they were. Dead.

All of them.

Four bodies were spread out on the floor before her, surrounded by a flowing river of blood. She stared blankly at what remained of her family: her father, her step-mother, her two older brothers. Their eyes open and lifeless. Faces forever twisted in terror. Slaughtered.

She'd watched the gruesome scene unfold while hiding under the dining room table, unable to make herself look away. Powerless to stop it. She should've run when she'd had the chance like all the servants had, fleeing the impending bloodbath.

Jane looked up at the warlord towering over her, broad sword held firmly in his hand. The blood of her family dripped from its tip to a sticky, crimson puddle on the floor beside her. She would be the next to go.
The last
.

She never imagined death would come for her like this. Not so soon. Yet here it faced her, and her only thought was of her family. This was all
their
fault. Life had been one complex intrigue for them, filled with lies, murder, theft, and who even knew what else. Jane tried her best to stay out of their affairs, but she knew they had enemies lurking around every corner, which was why they'd moved so often. This one had finally caught up with them.

“Looks like you're it, lass.” The warlord's deep brogue rumbled through the room like thunder.

Her eyes went to the thick scar running along his left cheek. She thought he'd be a handsome man if not for that, with his broad shoulders, short, dark hair and deep, blue eyes. His skin was golden from the sun and his face unshaven. Jane silently mourned the fact that she would never know love with a man. Her life was going to end before it had even started. Why hadn't she run?

“What did they do to you?” she asked, not certain she wanted to know. It must have been some awful offense considering the way his eyes had glowed with fury when he'd run his sword through her entire family.

“They took my life from me,” he yelled, pointing his sword at her. “Now I've taken theirs!”

She instinctively backed away from him, sliding herself across the floor on her bottom. His rage was a palpable thing, consuming the room. He gripped his fingers around the hilt of his sword as he advanced on her. She wasn't going to get far in her current position.

She moved to get to her feet, but he stayed her with his sword, smearing fresh blood in the soft waves of her blonde hair.

“Going somewhere, lass?”

Jane stared up at him, helpless. Her heart raced wildly. He was going to kill her. The anguished screams of her family still rang in her ears and she knew it was going to hurt.

“I haven't finished with you yet.” A wicked gleam flashed in his eyes. “I've a reason for saving you till last.”

Dread lodged in her gut. She could think of a few things he might do to her, and none of them were appealing. She had no desire to drag this out. The whole situation had her furious. She shouldn't have to be the one to suffer for the vile things her family had done, the pain and injury they'd caused. She should've been the first to go. Nice and quick.

“I haven't done anything to you.”
Could a madman be reasoned with?
“I don't even know who you are.”

“My name is
Gavyn
MacLaren
. I come from the north,” he said. “And I have sworn revenge on your family, Jane.”

Hearing her name alarmed her. What else had he uncovered about them? “How do you know my name?”

“I know all the Stewart names,” he told her. “I vowed to take from your father that which was taken from me. His wife and children, and finally, his life.”

She couldn't contain her shock. Her eyes went wide. No wonder the man was so hostile.
Menacing
. He’d lost the family he loved by her father’s hand. Revenge was the only thing he lived for now.

She didn't blame him. Her father had gotten exactly what he'd deserved, and so had the rest of her family for the countless lives they'd meddled in, ruined. Hers included. There would be no bargaining with this man or pleading for her life. It was over.

“I'm sorry for what happened to you.” She knew the words didn't carry much weight, but after what this man had lost, she felt like he was at least owed some semblance of an apology. He'd never get one from her father, even if he was still alive.

“Sorry?!” He roared. “You’re sorry?” He narrowed his eyes, the thick muscles in his neck bulging. “That's a fine word coming from the mouth of a
Stewart
!”

Jane had no reply. He was absolutely right.

“But you will be sorry when I'm finished with you. You might even beg me to kill you.”

She started backing away from him again. She had to get away, or at least try. She wasn't going down easy. Never had, never would. If she'd learned one thing from her family, it was how to fight. To survive. She could lie, cheat and steal with the best of them.

“You'll no' escape me.” His lips curled into a hateful sneer. He angled his sword to her chest, pressing the blood-red tip right over her pounding heart.

“Please!” Jane was shocked to see Ellen, one of the servants, came rushing into the room. She’d thought they’d all left. “Don't kill her!” She threw herself to her hands and knees in front of
Gavyn
, pulling at his trouser leg, sobbing fitfully. “She's only a Stewart in name!”

“That's good enough for me.” He tried to slap Ellen's hands away.

Jane was touched. She liked Ellen. She'd gotten close to the woman over the last nine months her family had been in this house. She’d brought Jane fresh fruit every morning. She was like a friend, and Jane didn't have many of those. Her family had never stayed in one place long enough for her to form any attachments. She appreciated what the woman was trying to do, but Jane didn't need anyone to beg for her. Or to die because of her.

“Just go,” Jane told her. “Go back to your family while you still can.”

“You're part of my family, child, and I'll not see you suffer the same fate as your wretched parents and those rotten brothers. You've got goodness in you, and that's something this world has desperate need of.”

A tear rolled down Jane's cheek. Those words might be true, but none of that mattered to
Gavyn
. He intended to make her suffer his revenge, no matter how innocent she was.

“Please.” Ellen clasped
Gavyn's
trousers in her hands and faced him away from Jane. “I beg you to spare her!” Ellen jerked hard, pulling
Gavyn’s
feet out from under him and sending him tumbling to the floor.

“Run!” She scurried out of the room.

Jane gaped at the fallen warlord, stunned. Ellen had successfully taken him down, but he was already recovering and moving to get up. She shook off her stupor and scrambled to her feet.

Hiking up her skirts, she dashed out of the dining room, twisting through the hallways of her family's home. She needed to lose him and had only a few precious seconds to do it.
Gavyn
MacLaren
might be big and carrying a heavy sword, but she'd seen him in action. He moved with skill and precision. Fast.

She rushed outside, through the enclosed courtyard, and over to the doors leading into the back rooms of the house. The stables were directly across the lawn from the guest wing, and if she could make it there, she could get away on horseback. She cranked down on the door handles and found them locked.
No.
She jiggled and pulled frantically at the handles. They didn’t give.

“No, no, no!” She panicked. Her only other option was to go back the way she'd come. She was trapped if she stayed out there.

She rushed back into the house. The front door had never seemed so far away.
Gavyn
appeared at the end of the hall, and when he turned and saw her, he charged forward, nostrils flaring like an angry bull.

She broke out into a run, weaving through rooms and around furniture. She threw chairs over in her path, slammed doors closed behind her. Anything to slow him down.
Have to get out of the house
.

Circling back to the dining room, she skidded to a halt as she came face to face with
Gavyn
in the opposite doorway. They were both panting, staring at each other across the large, wooden table, the mid-morning light gleaming on its shiny surface, and the four massacred bodies strewn around the floor.

“We can do this the hard way,” he said, “if that's what you want.”

“I don't intend to make it easy for you to kill me.”

“It will be easy for me to kill you.” He slowly stalked towards her. “You're just a slip of a lass. I could snap your neck like a twig.” He twirled his sword in his hand.

Jane tore out of the room, running through the house again. The walls were closing in on her. She couldn't think straight, didn't know where to go. The chairs she'd tossed over and doors she'd closed were now working against her. Slowing her down.
Gavyn's
heavy boots thumped behind her, gaining quickly. Fear gripped her. There would be no escape. It was useless.

When his hand closed around her wrist, she turned on him, punching him in the throat with her free hand and kicking at his shins with all her might. His sword hit the floor with a loud, clanging noise and he grabbed her other wrist to subdue her. She tried to twist out of his hold, but his grip was like steel.