(The Forgotten: Book 1)
Laura R Cole
Copyright 2012 Laura R Cole
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Screams echoed in the long stone hallways of the castle, resonating with horrifying clarity. They silenced briefly, then resumed again. Moments later another sound cut through the wailing; that of hurried footsteps and ragged breathing which increased as another pained cry was torn from a woman’s throat. The runner skidded to a stop before a wooden door and pulled it open, causing it to squeal its protest in his haste.
“Your Majesty, finally you’re here!” exclaimed Amelia as she wiped the Queen’s forehead with a damp towel.
Gryffon raced to Layna’s side and took her hand in his own. She squeezed it with such ferocity that he almost cried out in pain himself, but he bit his tongue. Her face was dripping sweat, caking her hair against the sides of her head, and her eyes blazed at him. He knew his wife better than to complain of his own discomfort at this particular moment.