A Touch of Shadow: The Duke's Obsession

At the same time, within the Northern Command of the Shadow Guard, Rhaegar Thorne felt an inexplicable unease seize his heart.

He lifted a hand to his brow, pressing lightly against the bone above his left eye. He was a man of measured composure, rarely given to such restless foreboding—yet now, a sudden disquiet had taken hold of him, sharp and inexplicable.

Lance Illian noticed at once.

"My lord... are you unwell?"

"It is nothing," Rhaegar said, though his gaze had already sharpened. "Take men at once and investigate the perimeter of the Valehart estate. See if there has been any unusual movement today."

"Yes, my lord."

Lance departed swiftly.

In less than half the time it took for a thin candle to burn, he returned at full gallop.

"My lord, I have learned the following: Lady Caelith was punished by Old Madam Valehart this morning and sent to the charity hall to copy the Holy Book, supposedly for breaching decorum at the flower banquet yesterday. Meanwhile, Yvaine Emberlyn has brought two unfamiliar men in the same direction. By all appearances, they are no ordinary persons."

At once, Rhaegar seized the outer robe from the desk and threw it over his shoulders.

"Prepare a horse. We ride to the charity hall. Now."

Before the words had fully fallen, he had already strode out the door.

Moments later, he mounted and spurred his black horse forward, racing toward the Moon Temple.

Lance followed close behind.

The wind roared past as Rhaegar rode at full speed.

He had long suspected Yvaine Emberlyn’s intentions. That was why, at the flower banquet, he had warned Caelith to be wary of her.

Now, with Caelith alone at the charity hall... Yvaine would not let such an opportunity pass.

It was not long before Rhaegar arrived outside the charity hall.

He reined in his horse sharply and dismounted in one swift motion. The attendants guarding the entrance recoiled in fear at the sight of him.

Rhaegar had no patience for them. His voice cut through the air, cold and direct.

"Where is the Lady Valehart right now?"

"In... in the rear courtyard chamber, copying scriptures."

Without another word, he strode inside, his steps swift and unyielding. As he turned past a covered corridor, voices reached him from outside the chamber ahead—male voices, coarse and leering.

"This woman’s quite a beauty. No wonder Lady Yvaine wants her dealt with. I’d fancy her myself. A sweet piece of ass for certain!"

"Enough talk. Finish the job. I just want to get paid."

"What’s the rush? Let’s have some fun first... We will get our money in the end, regardless."

The filthy words struck his ears like sparks to dry tinder.

Rhaegar’s eyes blazed.

Without hesitation, he lifted his foot and kicked the door open. The wooden panels burst inward with a violent crash.

What he saw inside shattered the last thread of his restraint.

Two rough men had seized Caelith by the wrists. The collar of her gown had been torn open, exposing the pale line of her slender neck. Her face was flushed, her eyes unfocused—her consciousness clearly slipping away.

The moment the men turned and saw Rhaegar, they froze.

They had intended to fight—but one look at the murderous aura surrounding him made their legs weaken. They turned to flee, but before they could take more than a step, Rhaegar’s fist crashed into one of them with brutal force.

Lance and the others rushed in at once, subduing the two men swiftly.

Rhaegar strode forward and pulled Caelith into his arms. The moment she felt that familiar presence, her lips trembled.

"Rhaegar... save me... please... Help... me..."

Her voice was faint, broken.

Seeing her flushed skin and dazed state, Rhaegar understood instantly.

A vile aphrodisiac—one of the most insidious kinds circulating in the underworld. Its effects were fierce; once it took hold, it would cloud the mind and consume the body. Without timely relief, it could even cost a life.

His arms tightened around her.

He drew her disheveled clothing back into place, shielding her, then stripped off his outer robe and wrapped it around her trembling form.

At that moment, a violent fury surged within him.

He wanted nothing more than to tear those two men apart limb by limb. And Yvaine Emberlyn—he wished to drag her here and make her pay for this.

Yet beneath the rage was something else.

Guilt.

He had failed to protect her. Again.

"Do not be afraid," he murmured, though his voice trembled faintly despite himself. "I am here. No one will harm you."

Then his expression hardened.

He turned, his gaze falling upon the two men pinned to the ground. It was cold—utterly devoid of mercy.

Lance bowed. "My lord, how shall they be dealt with?"

"Take them away for now."

Rhaegar let out a low, humorless breath. His eyes remained icy.

"Go at once and find Yvaine Emberlyn. Knock her unconscious and bring her here."

He paused, his voice dropping into something deadly quiet. "If anyone dares to interfere... kill them."