"But part of me thought…always thought that my mother would interfere. That someone would come. And not two hundred years later," I gasped out, pulling my hands away, clenching my fists against the rising tide of pressure that rose up in my chest, threatening to crack me open. I pressed my tight hands into my thighs and arched my chest, waiting for the need for air to force me to draw a breath. It came gusting into my lungs, swaying me, chest heaving. We will have vengeance, pretty morsel. My hand slapped against Hywel's side, the weight of the words a great pound in my head that nearly
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