The Butcher of Beaumont

“I read her mind before she died, witch. And I know what I saw. You are disobedient and a spoiled fucking brat. A good daughter would have heeded her mother’s warning and stayed away.” He drags me to my feet. “Get up. We need to move. It is only a matter of time before someone turns you in and the palace guard comes searching for us.”

“I am grieving, you beastly man.” I snarl at him. “Show some respect.”

My attempt to remove myself from his firm grip is met with resistance. His hand is locked around my arm as he pulls me along. Can he not see that I am angry and hurting after witnessing the horrors that were foisted upon my family today? I am a grief-stricken woman, damn it.

“You can grieve while we walk, Sunshine. Do not speak to me of respect after you disobeyed your mother and risked your stupid neck.” He gives me a good shake. “Now, which way is it?”

“West.” I concede. “Into the mountains.”

I am not sure if I can trust him. What if he tries to rob me? Or rape me?

“You have nothing that I want, woman.” The arrogant ass smirks rudely. “I assure you, your virtue is safe with me.” He laughs for a full minute. “The sooner I get you home, the sooner I can be rid of you.”

Please note that this is a work of historical fiction. The names, characters, places and other incidents are the product of the author’s twisted imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, businesses, events or locations is entirely coincidental. Content warning: This novel contains graphic language, graphic sex scenes, graphic violence and is not recommended for readers under the age of eighteen. All rights reserved.