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Celeste had pushed herself close to her father’s back. Her teeth were chattering
    and she was terrified. As cosseted as she was, she was not accustomed to such violent behavior. Not
    once in her life had she ever heard her father raise his voice in anger until this night nor had he ever shown
    any indication he was capable of the aggression being exhibited by the intruders. Her idyllic world was
    crashing down around her ears and she was having a hard time coping with the drastic change.
    “I don’t know of whom you are speaking,” Lord Charles stated, his chin raised. He swallowed
    hard—flinching at the stinging pain touching his flesh.
    Vargas DuMond turned flinty eyes to the young woman hiding behind the back of the lord of the manor
    and he smiled nastily. “What say you we ask your doxie, then?”
    “How dare you?” Lord Charles shrieked, eyes flaring. “This is my young daughter you slander, you
    animal! Speak with respect of her or I’ll?”
    “You’re no longer in charge here, you bastard,” Vargas snarled. With his free hand, he tapped the
    pocket of his jerkin. “I have the authority of the Federation backing me up. Hand over the Commander
    or by the grace of the gods, I’ll snatch up that tasty morsel behind you and throw her shapely ass to my
    men for their pleasure!”
    Celeste whimpered. She had no idea what that meant but from the stiffening of her father’s body, it was
    something horrific.
    “My daughter is an innocent girl,” Lord Charles said, his lips quivering. “She has never known?”
    “She’ll learn quickly enough,” Vargas interrupted. “Won’t take much doing on her part to lie on the table
    with her legs spread.”
    Gasping, Celeste thought she would faint from the vulgarity of the man’s words. She could feel her
    father’s body trembling with rage and his hand tightened on hers.
    “Leave my girl be and I’ll take you to him,” the Dungeon Master said.
    The leader stepped back, taking the sword point from Lord Charles's throat. “Then do it before I hike
    her skirts up o’er her head.”
    Releasing his daughter’s hand with some effort?for Celeste did not want to relinquish the only safety she
    felt?her father took her by the shoulders and looked into her terrified eyes.
    “Be brave, child,” her father said. “I’ll allow no harm to come to you.”
    “Papa, I don’t understand. What’s happening?” she said as tears fell down her pale cheeks. “Who are
    they looking for?”
    Lord Charles put a hand to his daughter’s cheek. “Stay here. I’ll?”
    “She comes with us,” the leader snapped.
    “No!” the Dungeon Master thundered, spinning around to direct a steely glower at Vargas. “She is too
    young and innocent to see?”
    “Then it’s time she grew up and took a good look at what her sire is, don’t you think?” MacDougal
    interrupted.
    “I will not have my child subjected to?”
    “Bring her,” Vargas said, snaking out a hand to grab Lord Charles’ upper arm and jerking him forward.
    “No! I beg you! She should not see?”
    Celeste flinched as the leader backhanded her father into silence, leaning toward him and saying
    something that bled the color from her parent’s features.
    “Do we understand one another, milord?” the leader sneered.
    Seeing her father lower his head in submission frightened Celeste even more and she could not even
    begin to imagine what evil thing her father had been threatened with to render him as meek as he turned
    and led the men out of the dining room.
    The young man who strode up to her had a stern, hard expression on his face but he made no attempt to
    put hands to Celeste. He simply cocked his head in the direction the others were going and she stumbled
    away from him, wringing her hands at her waist as she walked, her steps hindered by the tears wavering
    in her eyes.
    It was out of the main hall, down the steps and across the night-darkened lower bailey her father led
    them. The air was crisp and