Forbidden

Chapter 1

Romania, Present Day

Roseline Enescue races down the damp corridor; her hands skim the smooth stone as she throws herself around the corner. No sounds of footsteps follow her. No cry announces her escape...yet.

The sound of dripping grows louder. She must be close.

Bright aqua eyes scan the dark tunnel. A curtain of spider webs drapes from the low ceiling. Roseline slows, clawing her way through the silky strands.

She must be careful.

 The sunrise approaches swiftly and her family has returned not long ago. Too many ears might catch the sound of her escape, but there is only one person she fears the most: Vladimir Enescue.The throbbing in her jaw makes it hard to forget her most recent punishment. Refusal to join in the night's festivities has earned her a broken jaw, fractured sternum, and shattered femur. Vladimir made sure to leave his mark tonight.

Roseline was forced to wait long into the night for her bones to mend well enough for her to slip through the secret passage in her room.

Doubts plague her mind as she slides through a narrow part of the tunnel. Several feet of earth press against her chest as she wiggles through.

 Can she really escape this time? Will she live through her punishment if Vladimir discovers her attempt to flee?

Death, how sweet the word sounds — an end to three lifetimes of misery. Yes, she welcomes death, if only it will reach out for her to grasp, but the chance for freedom beckons her forward. A year's worth of planning culminates on this night. True, it's a few months early. Winter has yet to set in, but she cannot stay any longer. She cannot endure another beating.

Her desperation pushes her to forego the warning signals that blare in her mind. She has no other choice. She will not suffer Vladimir's brutal tyranny any longer.

As she draws near to the end of the tunnel, her feet stutter along the floor. Roseline's limp will be a problem once she reaches open ground, but she will have to make do as she races against the sun. It is now or never.

A hint of light filters through the darkness a hundred feet ahead. Pale moonlight drifts down through the grate in the courtyard well. To her knowledge, no one knows of this passage's existence, but if she is wrong...

Her pace slows as she approaches. The sweet aroma of early morning air calls to her as she inches forward. Fall has arrived and along with it the blanket of cool that soothes her hot skin. Gone are the sweltering days that trapped her within the walls of Bran Castle. This is her favorite time of year, but she will not be around to enjoy it.

It is fall in America, she reminds herself silently. Yes, Chicago should be lovely this time of year, but she will never reach the Windy City if she does not focus.

Tilting her head to the side, Roseline strains to hear any sounds through the grated wishing well in the center of the castle courtyard. The night sky brightens as pinpricks of dawn's first light spread along the horizon.

All across the castle, mental alarm clocks alert her family to retire for the day. With any luck, most of them have already begun to slip into a drunken stupor, their bloodlust sated for the time being.

Roseline drapes her bag over her shoulder and stretches up to remove the grate covering the well. She yanks her hand back at the sound of a footstep on the flagstones overhead.

From her vantage point, she can make out a broad back and long flowing blond hair. She does not need to see his face to know who he is — her best friend, Fane Dalca.