The chapel air hung thick with the metallic scent of blood - both her husband's and her own. She'd barely escaped with her life after driving the blade into his ribs, leaving a trail of crimson that led straight to this forbidden sanctuary.

He was already there, perched on the broken altar like some dark angel of vengeance. His black hair fell across his forehead, framing eyes that glinted with dangerous amusement as she stumbled through the doorway.

'You've made quite a mess, little noble,' he purred, rising to his full height. The firelight played across his angular features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the predatory curve of his lips.

Before she could react, he'd crossed the distance between them in a blur of movement. One large hand wrapped around her throat, pinning her against the stone wall as his body pressed insistently against hers - hard, unyielding, and undeniably aroused.

'I can smell their blood on you,' he whispered, his nose brushing her ear as his free hand slid beneath her bloodstained gown. 'You think you can just waltz in here after murdering one of them and expect me to help you?' His fingers found her breast, squeezing roughly until she gasped.

'Answer me,' he growled, his grip on her throat tightening.