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Master of the Elements
by Alice Gaines
Red Sage
ISBN:
978-1-603-10132-5 |
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As Elsbeth says goodbye to her father at the
foot of the forbidden mountain, he places a bride’s garland on her head
and then refuses to let her go.
“I won’t leave you,” he insists. “Not to what lives up there.”
But Elsbeth has always known that her fate can only be found at the
crest of the forbidden mountain in the master’s castle, a place shrouded
in legend and kissed by the clouds.
Every hundred years, on the sixth day of the sixth month of the sixth
year of the new century, a virgin from the town is led to the foot of
the mountain and sent up to her destiny at the master’s hands. None of
the virgins are ever heard from again.
As the time for the sacrifice grows near, the master’s protection
against the elements begins to falter. Drought, wind, cold. Crops fail.
The people are suffering, and only Elsbeth can put a stop to it.
But at what cost? Is Elsbeth a blood sacrifice? Or a companion to ease
the master’s isolation?
Coming soon!!
MASTER OF THE
ELEMENTS
by Alice Gaines
Copyright © ALICE GAINES, 2007
All Rights Reserved, RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC.
“Don’t question me. Do it.”
She nodded and obeyed. How odd to sit on the lap of someone who might end
her life. She’d crawled into her father’s lap as a child, and now she sat on
the knee of a man who seemed no more than a mask, robes, and a hand. The
hand in question poured some liquid from a pitcher into a tiny glass and
handed it to her.
“Drink this.”
She tasted it and found it sweet. Some sort of fortified wine with the scent
of flowers. She drank the rest and handed him the glass. As he set it aside,
a rush of warmth coursed through her. Pleasant, it made her limbs feel
heavy. Her vision blurred, but her other senses came to life. The smell of
the oil burning in the torches, the distant sound of waves crashing outside.
Even the master’s breathing, which had become labored. Her own heart
hammered in her chest, and her skin tingled. Especially at her breasts and
the spot between her legs. Her body craved something. It grew restless and
hot, but for what?
When his hand went beneath her skirts and found the skin of her calf, she
had her answer. She needed his touch. His fingers could make her complete.
She sighed and closed her eyes, the better to enjoy the feel of his hand
against her skin.
Slowly, he moved higher up her leg to her knee and above. When the stone of
his ring grazed the other thigh, she let her legs fall apart. At home, she’d
never have allowed a touch so intimate. Such a caress would have mortified
her. The heat that now burned her cheeks had nothing to do with
embarrassment. It took her back to dreams she’d forgotten — images she
hadn’t understood. Dark and sinful and delicious. And always accompanied by
an ache between her legs.
She throbbed now. He’d drugged the wine, and she ought to be frightened.
Instead, every bit of her mind and body focused on the path of fire he was
laying now over her upper thigh. Close, so close.
When he finally touched her, she gasped with shock and pleasure. Her hips
jerked, pressing her harder against his hand.
“Hot,” he murmured, his voice husky.
Strange, but somehow touching her had moved him, as well. His breath came
faster, as did hers. Somehow, they’d formed a connection, and he’d caught
her fever.
With no suitors, she’d never learned much about what went on between men and
women. Some part of a man’s body would get hard, and then he’d put it inside
his wife. The master would do that with her now. He had the right.
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