Desolate, Book I of the Immortal Rose Trilogy (32 page)

I lower my gaze.
Shame washes over me as I think back on the past few hours.

“It hurts.”
I turn away, embarrassed by my weakness. I should be stronger now,
capable of handling the pain, yet I cannot. I feel as if I have
shattered into a millions shards of glass, unable to be mended.

Fane gently lifts me
off his lap and sets me beside him. Without breaking eye contact, he
reaches behind me and pulls the covers over my shoulders to veil my
nakedness. “I know something that might help. Will you permit
me to carry you?”

In the beginning, I
would have been suspicious of his motives. Although Fane has never
been anything save a gentleman with me, he now watches me with a bit
more care than before. The look in his eyes warms me in places I had
once thought would be dead forever, reminding me of our near kiss.
“May I take the blanket too?”

He laughs and nods.
I tuck the ends of the blanket around me, securing it as best as I
can before he lifts me effortlessly. His gait is swift yet gentle as
he carries me out into the hall. I feel him brace a split second
before he leaps down the flight of stairs. I tense, sure the jarring
landing will cause excruciating pain, though I hardly jostle at all.

“Ye of little
faith.” He grins as he rises onto the balls of his feet and
dashes down the hall.

As we burst from the
confines of the castle, I nearly laugh out loud at the exhilarating
freedom I feel. Fane moves across the rolling terrain with surprising
grace as we pass by our training grounds beneath the lofty spruce
trees that line the eastern edge of the castle grounds.

“Where are you
taking me?”

He remains silent as
he shifts his gait to follow a winding path into an area I have yet
to explore. Piles of pine needles dot the rock path as it weaves
beneath towering spruce trees. I crane my neck to see what is before
us and wince at the strain on my neck muscles and slowly lower back
down.

“Are you
always this inquisitive?” Fane’s chuckle rumbles deeply
in his chest beside my arm.

“Usually. At
least I always used to be…” I trail off as I am hit by
the reminder of my former life. My throat tightens as I look away,
hoping he does not realize how close I am to tears. Will this ever
get any easier? Fane would tell me that it does, though even I know
that is not true, not after seeing how hard it was for him to speak
of his lost family.

“Well, concern
yourself no more. We have arrived.”

I look up to find us
standing beside a small pond no larger than thirty paces across. I
turn and look back over his shoulder, searching for my turret through
the maze of barren branches. I can just make out the orange tile
roof.

“Are we still
on castle lands?” I ask, feeling a slight hitch in my breath at
the thought of being beyond Vladimir’s borders.

Fane smiles and
slowly lowers me to my feet. “I am afraid so. They extend much
farther than you would imagine. I believe much of this land was…
passed along to Vladimir with only a small amount of negotiation on
his part.”

“I imagine he
was rather persuasive,” I mutter as I step toward the rippling
water. The surface sparkles like fine crystal, marred only by the
occasional leaf floating past. On the far side of the pond, dozens of
geese mill about, no doubt attempting to avoid a hunter’s
dinner table. How funny they would know that within these grounds
they are not the first item on the menu.

The aged pine
needles crunch beneath my bare feet. The grass is cool to the touch.
I sink slowly to the ground and dig my fingers deep into the rich
earth. The cool breeze rustles my hair as Fane drops to one knee
beside me.

“There are
rumors that these waters contain healing powers,” he whispers,
only inches from my ear. I flinch at his sudden nearness, though I do
not back away as I stare out over the sparkling surface.

“Do you
believe such things?”

“No.” He
falls silent for a moment. “Though the waters do feel good
after a long, hard ride.”

He rises and steps
back from me. I turn, surprised by his sudden departure. “You
are leaving?”

“Only for a
while. I assumed you would rather disrobe when I am not around,
though I am willing if you are.” A tiny smirk appears at the
corner of his lips before he turns and heads back up the gentle
incline. I watch until he disappears over the crest.

I slowly turn back
toward the water’s edge and a shiver seizes me. I have never
been a fan of water. As a young girl, I nearly fell through a thin
sheet of ice that covered the small duck pond at the back of our
property. My mother had been furious, my father coolly indifferent.
The fever nearly took me.

I remember my
sister’s constant prayers as I lay shivering in my bed. My
mother sat beside the fire, her knitting needles clicking with
maddening speeds. She always did turn to her knitting when she was
worried.

Since that day I
have not stepped within a few feet of water’s edge and here I
sit, desperate for relief from my aches and pains, though too
terrified to move. I look back in the direction Fane went and realize
he has not left me at all. He is simply waiting.

“You can do
this,” I whisper to myself as I gently tug the blanket from my
shoulders. Instead of the anticipated chill from disrobing outdoors,
I find myself smiling at the wind’s gentle caress against my
skin.

Is
that how the water will feel?
I wonder as I gingerly rise to my feet. I waver unsteadily for a
moment before taking a hesitant step forward. The soles of my feet
sink into the damp soil as I near the edge. It crumbles beneath me,
threatening to tumble me face first into the water.

“Are you all
right?”

“I am fine,”
I call over my shoulder toward Fane. He has begun to pace and I fear
he will turn to check on my progress before I have dipped beneath the
concealing waters.

“I suppose it
is not as if water can harm me anymore,” I muse as I dip my toe
into the water, thinking of how Fane promises I could spend an entire
night in its depths without need to breathe.

The water feels
deliciously cool against my foot as I step in, my arms spread wide
for balance as I sink deep into the bank. The mud rises between my
toes and I release a small squeal. A deep laugh from behind makes me
purse my lips. “It is not amusing.”

“Perhaps not,
though you most certainly are.”

I grit my teeth and
fling myself into the pond, choking and pawing at the water as I
poorly attempt to keep my head afloat. Within seconds, Fane is
standing along the shore, his arms crossed over his chest and his
smile broad. “Why did you not tell me you could not swim?”

“It is not
that I cannot,” I splutter as I pick a leaf from the side of my
face. My legs pedal beneath me to keep my chin just above the
surface. “I just prefer dry land.”

“And yet you
still entered…” He cocks his head to the side and
watches me with that intense gaze that I have come to recognize. It
is almost as if he is trying to peer into my mind.

“Do not look
at me as if you think this decision was based on bravery.” I
sweep my arms back and forth, treading water to remain in place.
There is a current within this small space. I should have realized it
sooner when I watched the leaves floating toward the far shore.

It will not take
long for me to tire, yet even as I realize how weary I should be, I
also begin to notice that my muscles no longer hold the same ache. I
stare up at Fane and know my thoughts are clearly written across my
face.”

“You may thank
me at your earliest convenience.” He grins.

“Are you
always this haughty?” I shake my head and laugh as droplets of
water from my hair splatter against his pristine pants. He does not
back away. Instead, he drops into a crouch. His nearness makes me
sink a bit lower beneath the surface.

“It was either
this or blood. I assumed this would be far more preferable to you.”

I curl my lower lip
with disgust. “I will never drink blood again.”

His knowing smile
makes the tips of my ears burn. “Never is a very long time for
our kind, Roseline.”

He rises to his full
height, taking my blanket with him. He holds it out and turns his
head to the side. “We should return you to the castle before
someone begins to wonder where you have gotten off to.”

My stomach clenches
at the thought. “No one ever looks for me.”

He tilts his head to
the side yet does not look in my direction. The water laps about my
chest as I slowly swim back toward the shore. “Perhaps not
normally, though this is not a normal time.”

The hairs along my
body rise as I step out of the pond and into the waiting blanket.
Fane gently wraps it securely around me before he lowers his gaze to
discover my curiosity. “Tomorrow night is the Avangor, the
blood moon. They will come for you at sundown.”

“I do not
understand. I still have three more days.

Fane nods solemnly.
“Vladimir has chosen not to wait.”

I feel the familiar
quake begin to rise within me. “I need more time.”

“There is
none.” He raises his hands to hold me upright as I waver. “Time
runs short.”

I stare up at him,
knowing my fear is laid bare before him. Water droplets fall from my
hair, pattering against my nose, and trail down my chin. I am warm
and revived, yet an icy chill has seized me.

His lips part as his
gaze shifts from my eyes to the quivering of my lips. “I told
you I would ask again.”

I stiffen in his
arms, terrified and filled with utter longing. It curls my toes and
seeks to push back against the numbness. “This cannot be,”
I whisper.

“Why can it
not?” Fane steps near. I can feel the heat of his body beneath
his leather vest. “Why can fate not give us this single moment
of happiness?”

“Because it
will never be enough. Do you not see this?” I shove my hair
back from my face, swiping away the moisture that clings to my
lashes. I am soaked through, yet I hardly feel a chill.

“If I allow
myself to feel for you, it will be torture when you are gone and even
more so when you are near. Lucien watches me like a hawk, and
Vladimir…” I fight to suppress a shudder. “He will
know.”

Fane steps closer,
pressing the length of his body against mine. I can smell the scent
of his longing pouring off him in rhythmic waves. “I am not the
one who is blind, Roseline,” he murmurs as he stares down at me
from his great height. His smile broadens as he leans down and
whispers in my ear. “You do not need to allow yourself to feel
for me. You already do.”

I stiffen as he
presses his cheek against the side of my face. I wish to lean into
his touch, to accept his embrace, yet I am terrified.

What do I know of
love? Of real love?

My father used me to
further his fortune. My mother did nothing to stop him. Vladimir has
been nothing short of atrocious. How am I to know if what I feel
truly is love or a mere infatuation?

“I can see it
in your eyes,” he whispers into my ear. I tremble in his grasp.

“See what?”
I breathe out as he nudges the hair back from my neck and presses his
lips to the side of my throat. I clench my fists tightly against my
sides, desperate not to reveal my desire.

“You want me.”
I bite my lower lip as he smiles against my neck. “I can smell
it.”

Blast
his sense of smell!
I
feel weak in the knees as his hands lace about my waist, molding our
bodies together as if we were one. His hands are strong against my
back, kneading through the sodden folds of my blanket. As I roll my
head back to allow him access to the base of my neck, I vaguely
realize how easily it would be to bare myself to him.

His fingers dig deep
into my flesh as he presses me back against a spruce tree. We
disappear among its drooping branches, sealing out the world and all
of its cares. The sun is lost behind clouds that seek to cloak the
castle grounds in coming darkness. I can feel the change in the wind
as I press against the bark of the tree and lift my eyes to the sky,
feeling as turbulent as the tempest building above.

My heart thrums with
maddening intensity as Fane’s hands roam the breadth of my
waist, tugging me close, then pushing me back with measured control,
almost as if he comes to his senses and then refuses to acknowledge
them all over again.

I can feel the
battle waging within him. It is evident in the strength of his hands
and the press of his body. He wants me. His scent envelops me with
turbulent intensity. A low growl rises in his throat as he nips at my
neck, nearly tumbling me into a careless abandon.

I dig my nails deep
into the flesh of the tree as I attempt to resist, yet as Fane’s
lips trace a burning trail toward my mouth, I find I no longer care.

“May I?”
he whispers hoarsely.

With a growl that
surprises both of us, I yank him about and shove him against the tree
in answer. Chunks of bark jar loose and fall about our feet as I wrap
my arms around his neck and rise up to meet his lips. Adela was
wrong. There is nothing sweet or romantic about a first kiss.

Raw passion makes my
mind hazy with desire as I grip Fane, needing to feel every part of
him against me. I claw at his back as I crush against his lips until
my own are bruised and swollen. I plunge my hands into his hair as he
wraps his arms about my waist and lifts me so my feet are nearly a
foot off the ground.

If only I had known
a kiss could be like this.

Fane slowly lowers
me to the ground, severing our connection. My chest heaves as I step
back, fighting to regain my composure. My fingers tremble as I press
them to my lips, clutching my blanket with my free hand. “Thank
you,” I whisper.