Cara's Twelve (11 page)

“Cush,” she started, but didn't know what else to say.

Pouring a second glass of wine, she handed it to him. He accepted the wine with a look of discomfort. Simultaneously they let out audible sighs that reflected their uneasiness. Cush gave a nervous laugh and Cara smiled.

He wasn't her enemy and it was foolish of her to think of him as such. Despite his boyish antics, she knew he was a kind and sensible young man. If only her head wasn't spinning, she thought she might be able to talk to him, to help him understand her hesitancy.

“Cush, I didn't mean to..,” she started, but her head exploded in pain and her knees buckled beneath her.

The glass of wine she had been holding shattered as it hit the stone floor.

“Cara!” Cush caught her as she stumbled.

With a strength that shocked her, he lifted her and started towards the only spot he could lay her down.

“Not the bed,” she groaned.

“I won't touch you,” he said sincerely, and moved the covers before laying her down.  Pressing the back of his hand against her forehead, he frowned. “You're burning up. Are you ill?”

Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch. His cool hand felt good against her hot flesh. “Think it's the vapors the priestesses made me inhale. My head hasn't been clear since.”

“They drugged you?” Cush's voice was sharp as he used his thumb and index finger to open her eyes. “What did they give you?”

Cara pushed his hand away. Now that she was lying down all she wanted to do was sleep. “I don't know. Something…” She was too tired to speak, but Cush kept poking at her. “I'm all right…just…tired.”

“Cara, look at me,” Cush insisted. When she didn't open her eyes, he cursed. “I'm getting the physician.”

At Cush's comment, Cara opened her eyes and tried to sit up, but the sudden movement made her head spin and her stomach revolted. She leaned her head against the headboard and closed her eyes until the spinning stopped. Breathing through the nausea, a cold sweat moistened her brow and upper lip, and she shivered at the sudden cold that entered her body.

Despite how she felt, she wouldn't humiliate herself by having Cush tell anyone else about her condition. She was fine, she just needed to rest.

“Cush, wait,” her voice was weak, even to her own ears. She opened her eyes and tried her best to smile. “I promise, I'm fine.”

He didn't look convinced as he studied her.

She patted the spot on the bed beside her. “Come and sit with me.”

His brows creased. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. Cush was harmless, and in her anxiety over what he expected, she had forgotten that he was her friend.

The bed creaked in protest as he sat next to her.

“I wanted to explain,” Cara began. “My reaction earlier. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn't, “he said, but by his expression, Cara could see that it had.

“It's just, I wasn't prepared for this. For any of it really. To be honest I only found out a couple of weeks ago that I was even expected to have sex with you.”

Cush's face turned bright red at her bluntness. “Cara, it's okay. There's no reason to explain. There was no expectation. I know you have feelings for Finn. We've all seen it. I wouldn't expect you to want me when you have men like him to choose from.”

Her mind became alert at his self-deprecation. “You're right I do have feelings for Finn. I would be lying if I denied it. But that's not the reason…” she hesitated before continuing. “I…I've never been with a man. I just don't think I'm ready. Not yet. Not like this.”

She saw the look of shock flash quickly over his face at her confession. “I would never want you to do anything you're not ready to do.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her eyes went heavy again, but she needed to reassure him. “Cush?”

“Yes.”

“I'm glad you're one of my Twelve.”

“You are?” he asked self-consciously.

Giving him what she hoped was an encouraging smile, she nodded and added, “You're just as good, kind and handsome as any of the others. Don't let this one night make you doubt that.”

Cush smiled, and Cara saw his confidence restored.

“Can I ask a favor?” she asked weakly.

Anything.”

“Will you lie with me?”

His smile brightened and she saw the matching dimples deepen in his cheeks. Fully clothed, he positioned himself under the covers, and lifting his arm, he motioned her to rest her head on his chest. She obliged and laid her arm over his stomach as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

“Goodnight, Cush.”

He kissed the top of her head and gently stroked her forehead. “Goodnight, Cara.”

When the servants came the next day to release Cush and Cara they found them asleep, arms and legs tangled as they clung to one another. Cara didn't mind the gossip that ensued, and she did nothing to correct the rumors of the great passion that had passed between them. She hadn't been willing to give Cush her body, but she didn't see the harm in allowing others to think she had.

There had been harmless banter and crude comments by the men, mostly in good humor and directed at Cush, but it had been Finn's response that had shocked Cara. His reaction had been the opposite of what she had expected. He had turned away from her just for kissing Helfrich, and she had anticipated his scorn when he heard the rumors that she had taken Cush as a lover. But instead of the anger she had prepared for, he had responded with affection, doting on her as he had once done. It was unsettling, and she didn't know what to make of his behavior.

For a full week after the festival, Cara couldn't shake the effects that the drugs had induced. There were days when she thought she had finally rid her body of the toxins, but then her hands would start shaking and her skin would break out in a cold sweat. The blinding headaches were the worst. They would come on her unexpectedly, in a ferocious pain that left her gasping for breath and immobilized in her bed.

Cara felt guilty as they left Tomias' summer house. She hadn't thanked him properly for everything he had done, but as their caravan rolled out, all she could do was lie on the bed of her carriage and try to hold her nausea. Cush had ensured her that his father knew how grateful she was, and that he was more concerned about her well-being than a final farewell. She hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye to Loc. Her eyes had filled with tears when Cush had brought her the boy's parting gift, a string bracelet that Loc had made for her. Red and white twine, Lyddian colors, had been twisted and braided to create a delicate band that she had secured immediately around her wrist.

As much as she regretted leaving Cush's family the way she had, she couldn't hold back her excitement as they crossed over the Crowthornian borders. She was going home, and for the first time in months, she would see her own family.

Due to her own weakened state, Cara remained secluded in her carriage the first week of their journey. As she regained her strength, and the nausea and headaches had dispersed, she tried to spend as much time as she could with Maeve. Keeping her identity hidden had been difficult, as the new members of their group were curious of their unidentified guest. But Tomias had made his men and servants take an oath of secrecy and obedience, and their thoughts soon turned to the more pressing matters of their journey.

Maeve's moods varied from day to day, and Cara approached her cousin's carriage with trepidation. The men were busy setting up camp for the night, and they saw Reyn helping the cook assemble the cookery.

She sighed heavily. With less than a week left in their journey, Reyn should have be excited to finally be going home, but Maeve's rejection had hurt him deeply, and he walked through the camp as if his heart had been ripped from his chest. Cara didn't know what had happened between the two of them, or why Maeve was so insistent that he stay away from her, but whatever the reason, Cara knew Reyn suffered terribly for it.

Cara gave a quick knock on the carriage door and entered. She found the physician massaging a healing ointment on Maeve's back. Her alabaster skin was a crisscross of raised purple marks that would probably never fully feel. The bones in her fingers had set properly and she now had full function of both hands

The physical pain was now only a small discomfort, and yet Maeve continued to live as if she were still trapped in the torment of her suffering.

“I've seen it before, in patients who have experienced trauma,” the king's physician had told her, shaking his head as if he could offer no solution. “Even when their bodies are healed, their minds never fully recover.”

“There has to be something you can do, something you can give her,” Cara had insisted.

“The drugs only provide a temporary solution. She needs to be weaned from them before they become a crutch. Try talking with her. Perhaps that will help.”

Every day Cara came to her. Tried to talk her through the emotional and mental suffering she endured, but nothing seemed to help.

Her nightmares came day and night. It was as if she relived her torture over and over again, awake or asleep, and Cara soon realized there wasn't much she could do to help her cousin as she battled the demons in her mind.

Cara watched as the physician finished applying the ointment and helped Maeve back into her linen night shirt.

Maeve grasped the man's hand as he turned to leave, and the desperate look in her eyes made Cara's heart break. “Please,” she begged. “Just a little more. I need to sleep.”

The man looked to Cara and then back at Maeve and shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I can't do that.”

“You can, but you won't,” Maeve whined, pouting like a child. “You don't want me to get better. You want me to suffer.”

The physician looked abashed as he left the carriage, and Cara felt sorry for the man. He had worked tirelessly to save Maeve's life, spending countless sleepless nights caring for her. He didn't deserve Maeve's hateful words.

“You shouldn't speak to him like that,” Cara said, picking up a comb and starting to brush the tangles from Maeve's hair. “If it wasn't for him you wouldn't have survived.”

In a rare display of strength, Maeve grabbed the brush from Cara's hand, threw it across the carriage, and began sobbing and ranting incoherently.

Cara stood up and backed away.

Maeve began furiously rocking back in forth, and shaking her head uncontrollably.

“Maeve, calm yourself.”

Maeve's eyes latched onto her, and Cara's breath hitched in her throat at the hatred she saw reflected in the green depths.

“Why did you save me? Just to torture me more? I didn't want this. I can't live like this. You want me to thank you. For what? You ruined my life. You have everything and you stick me in a room and leave me to rot. I'm just an animal to you. You want me alive so my death won't eat at your conscious. I hate you. I hate you all, and I wish you would have let me die.”

Maeve's outburst was so out of character and all Cara could do was watch in bewilderment as her cousin transformed before her eyes. This wasn't the same girl she had befriended in the castle. There was a darkness in her now that Cara couldn't comprehend.

Cara suppressed the urge to lash back. It would do neither of them any good, and Cara could see that Maeve wasn't in her right mind. But she also wouldn't stay and take the abuse. Everything she had done had been for Maeve.

Opening the door to the carriage, Cara stopped and turned to address her cousin. “You aren't the only one that has suffered. Countless people have risked their lives for you. No one has asked for your thanks, all we have asked is that you try. Try to live.” Cara choked on the words and her vision blurred with unshed tears. “I love you. Reyn loves you. But you push us away. It's your choice. You can choose darkness and death over life and love. But I won't have you blame us because you're too much of a coward to live.”

Cara watched as Maeve's face went white, but she didn't wait for a response. Instead she slammed the carriage door and ran.

* * *

Tahdaon watched as Cara fled Maeve's carriage and ran in the opposite direction of their camp.

“Shit,” Tahdaon hissed, as he watched her disappear behind a cluster of trees.

He grabbed the nearest horse, and not wasting time with a saddle, mounted bareback and took off in the direction she had fled.

Three weeks travelling and she had never left the camp. He had started to feel confident that she had listened to his warnings not to wonder off. But something Maeve had said or done had obviously upset her enough to ignore his advice. He had caught a glimpse of her face before she had turned and run off, and what he had seen was an emotion he was well acquainted with. Blinded by anger, he knew she would run until her emotions cooled, but by then she would be too far from the camp for anyone to hear her if she got lost or was in danger.

By the time he caught up with her, she had travelled an impressive distance from the camp  

Breathing heavily, she barely glanced at him as he rode beside her. Wiping her tear streaked cheeks with the back of her hands, she sniffed, “Go away, Tahdaon. I'm not in the mood to argue.”

“Looks to me it's exactly the mood you're in.”

She glared at him and kept walking.

In one fluid movement he dismounted, grabbed her by the waist and spun her around. “I thought we discussed this already. You put yourself at risk by leaving camp alone.”

“I don't need you watching over me. I can take care of myself,” she said, pushing at his chest, but he didn't let her go.

“Really? So you know how to get back then?” His voice held a challenge.

She looked around and blinked several times, as if she finally realized how far she had gone.

“Didn't think so,” he said shaking his head. “Come on, I'll take you back.”

To his horror, she burst into tears and buried her face against his chest.

Cursing under his breath, he raked his fingers through his hair and looked down at her. He abhorred the sound of a woman's weeping. It grated on every nerve in his body. His mother and sister had often teased him that he would rather take a lashing then have to suffer a woman's tears. It wasn't far from the truth.

But he had gone after her, knowing she was upset, and now he would have to suffer the consequences. “There, there,” he stammered, as he awkwardly began patting her back.

Her tears soon turned to laughter, and when she looked up at him he knew she was making fun of him.

“What?” he asked, frowning.

“You're not very good at this,” she said, her eyes teasing.

He grunted. She could mock him all she wanted, as long as she stopped crying.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

She shook her head, and he saw her face turn red and her eyes mist over.  Damn, wrong question.

“I just need to walk it off,” she muttered, taking a deep breath, but instead of pushing away from him, she melted deeper into his arms.

As he held her, he couldn't help his body's response to the soft curves that pressed against his chest and groin. He breathed in her scent and closed his eyes.

How long had it been since he held a woman in his arms?

Far too long.

He ran a hand down the length of her back and drew her closer. His other hand caught at the nape of her neck and stroked the delicate skin, before weaving his fingers through her dark tresses. She would run in fear from him if she knew his thoughts.

He could feel the heat of her breath through the thin fabric of his shirt, and when he tightened his grip, she shivered against him, even though the summer wind blew hot.  

Her body moved against his in slow innocent movements that had him biting back a curse, and he tried unsuccessfully to control his own body from reacting. With a single touch she had him hard as a rock and aching to be inside her.

“Cara,” he said, pushing her per back so he could see her face.

He sucked in his breath at the hunger he saw reflected in her soft brown eyes.

She licked her lips and ran her fingers across his chest. It took everything in him not to devour her mouth in a scorching kiss that would leave them both needing more.

He caught her wrist as she traced the white scar along his jaw. “You won't like how I play, little girl, best you run back to Finn, or one of your other little pets.”

His words were harsher then he had intended them to be, and he watched her eyes dim, as the passion that had been there a moment before quickly turned to self-doubt.

Perfect.

You always did have a way with words, asshole.

“You don't want me,” she said quietly. Pushing away from him, she looked down at her feet, and he saw the tips of her ears turn pink in embarrassment. “It's fine.”

He stared down at her in disbelief. Didn't want her? Was she delusional? His body ached to possess her. She should be telling him off, yelling at him for being such a prick, not looking like an abandoned child. Where was the confident woman that had stood before the Queen of Elbia and sentenced her to life in exile? He didn't know where her insecurities had come from, but he was highly suspicious Finn had something to do with it.

He grabbed her harshly and growled into her ear, “I would take you here, now, if I knew that was what you wanted.”

Her eyes opened wide at his suggestion.

“Here?” she choked on the word.

He tilted her chin roughly and forced her to look at him. If he was going to do this, she needed to know his terms. “But that's all I can give you. No soft words. No tender touches. You can seek out Finn or any of the other men if that's what you want. I will give you my body, but nothing else.”

He searched her eyes for her answer and saw her apprehension. He wouldn't take her unless he knew he had her absolute consent.

Finally she answered him. “If that's all you can give, then that's all I will take.”

“You're sure?”

This time he heard the confidence in her voice as she answered, “Yes, Tahdaon, I want you to make love to me.”

“What I'm going to do to you has nothing to do with love.”

She gasped as his lips covered hers. For a brief moment she hesitated before returning his kiss. He groaned in pleasure as her lips parted against his probing tongue. She tasted amazing and he had to stop himself from going too fast. He was sure that neither Finn nor Cush had hungered for her the way he did. Their lovemaking would have been gentle and slow compared to what he had to offer.

In a quick and effortless movement, and without breaking away from her sensual mouth, he picked her up and carried her to the shade of an oak tree. Laying her down on the soft grass, he pulled away and searched her eyes. “I'll stop at any time. Okay?”

She nodded and he saw a flicker of fear cross her expression. He was going to beat Finn for putting that fear in her.