Authors: Nicole Grane
I was furious. I couldn’t believe he wanted me to leave. After I’d given myself to him! “I think it would be best if you spend your time away from here,” I repeated aloud in an exaggerated, snotty tone.
I growled out in frustration as I stormed out the back doors.
I saw Rain tied to the railing, waiting for me. I climbed up onto his back and was just about settled in my saddle when Marcus grabbed onto the reins.
“Hey!”
“You’re not riding,” he growled.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt the horse,” I scoffed, trying to free the rains from his grasp.
“I’m not worried about the horse,” he hissed. “I don’t want you taking chances. You’re not that good a rider.” His tone was sharp, and the expression on his face would have frightened anyone including me—but not today. I rolled my eyes at him.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I snapped defiantly. “Besides, Rain takes good care of me. Don’t you, boy?” I patted Rain’s neck softly. “Unlike
some
people!”
“As you said,” he stepped closer; the fierceness in his tone was unmistakable. “We’ve been less than cautious. I’d think it is a safe assumption . . .”
“It’s too soon to worry about that. Besides, it’s a moot point anyway. Werewolves can’t conceive. You said so yourself. So the way I see it . . . you’re in the clear. You don’t have to concern yourself about it any longer.” I smiled victoriously. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought about that sooner. I’d worried for nothing!
“What?” he looked at me incredulously. “I never—”
“What’s going on?” Raymose came walking down the stairs and right into the middle of World War III. “Didn’t Richard tell you I was waiting?” He seemed put out.
“Relax, Marcus.” I yanked the reins from his hand. “Raymose will look after me. He always has.” I smirked.
“Raymose doesn’t understand,” Marcus growled under his breath. “And you are
my
responsibility.”
“Not anymore!”
“Hey, is everything alright here?” Raymose moved beside me. He looked from me to Marcus.
“No,” I answered for Marcus. I turned my head to Raymose and smiled brightly. “Marcus has asked me to leave. I’ll be going home as soon as I can arrange a flight.” I kept my tone as pleasant as my smile.
“Are you crazy?” Raymose yelled at Marcus. “That’s the first place Damen will look for her when he realizes she’s no longer here.”
“You
didn’t
allow me to explain,” Marcus snapped, although his stare was on me.
“You don’t need to explain. I’ve become a burden. You’ve had your fun, and now you’d rather I leave than have to worry about me. ” I spoke knowingly.
“What?” I could almost feel the heat radiating off of Marcus—he was furious.
“You’re not going alone,” Raymose promised, his eyes meeting mine.
Marcus turned to Raymose. His expression was one of betrayal. “You do not want to get in the middle of this.”
“I am in the middle of this,” Raymose hissed. “I won’t let her go unprotected. Not again. Never again.”
“I’m not sending her unprotected—Richard will be with her, just until the danger is over.” Marcus looked like he was going to explode.
“I don’t need Richard to go with me, and I don’t need any of your false concern. Like you said, it would be best if I spend my time away from here, away from you!” I threw his words back at him.
“Is that what you got out of our conversation?” he snapped.
I shot him a haughty look and turned away, giving Rain a hard kick. A moment later, Raymose was beside me, his horse keeping in step with Rain.
“You feel like dancing?” He smiled at me as he rode ahead quickly.
Dancing? Ah . . . that’s what Raymose used to call swordplay I thought to myself, smiling at the memory. Raymose had an infectious way about him. He was just what I needed right now—a distraction. I gave Rain another kick, urging him faster. I never looked back . . .
Raymose bolted across the lawn as quickly as his horse would move. It didn’t take Rain long to catch up. He was exceptionally fast. We slowed down to a soft lope as Raymose looked around.
“This looks like a good spot,” he said as he brought his horse to a stop.
“Good spot for what?”
He held out his sword. “We have a date. Remember?”
My smile was forced.
He reached out and put his arm around my shoulders. “How can I help?” he asked softly.
I shrugged and slid off my horse. Raymose followed close behind and sat down beside me under a tree. I leaned up against the trunk and looked up into the leafy foliage. It was thick and green still. There was no sign of autumn approaching. I stared at the leaves as they flickered in the light breeze. They looked almost florescent green in the sunlight.
“English Oak!” he said as he tapped the tree with his fist. “Do you want to talk about it?” he motioned to the house with a nod.
“There’s no point. He doesn’t want me.” I resided. It hurt to say it out loud. The “there’s nothing for you here” comment still smarted.
“No. Not Marcus. He’d never push you away . . . anymore than I would. There’s more to it.”
“It doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s better this way.” I lifted my chin up. “Being a human in your world is dangerous!” I got up and began twirling my sword around.
Raymose lay back on the grass with his hands behind his head, watching me.
“You know you can tell me anything,” his voice sounded like a soft song I’d heard long ago.
“What did Damen mean when he said you’ve loved me longer than he has?”
Raymose stared quietly at me. I’d taken him by surprise but he wasn’t uncomfortable.
“It isn’t polite to kiss and tell, Lady Phoebe,” he smirked, bowing his head slightly.
“You addressed me like that before? Why?”
“Your father is looked upon as royalty. He’s our king, our creator. It is out of the deepest respect I address you by your title.” He bowed once more.
I lowered my eyes a little. I could feel my cheeks burning. “You loved me?”
Raymose’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Before you’d met Marcus; a lifetime ago, several lifetimes ago. You and I were . . . once very close. Yes. I loved you.”
I continued to play with the sword. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know any more; it might make things uncomfortable between us. I didn’t want to lose Raymose—ever!
“I used to confide in you?” I asked after a few minutes.
“You knew I’d always be straight with you, help you when you needed it, and even when you didn’t.” He smirked.
I laughed a little to myself. Raymose was my partner in crime, I’d figured that much out. No wonder Marcus didn’t want us ‘playing’ together. Marcus was sensible, and Raymose . . . Raymose was potential trouble.
“Did my father know you . . . cared for me?” I chose my word carefully, evading his stare. I could feel him smiling.
“If you’re asking if he approved—yes.”
“Did he approve of Marcus?” I asked nonchalantly, still twirling my sword into the light.
His smile broadened. “Yes.”
I nodded sharply.
“Now,” he began. “Why would Marcus send you home?” he questioned, starting me straight in the face. “Why would he think you’re safer there?”
“I don’t know, maybe you should ask him. He told me there wasn’t anything for me here.” I tried to sound uncaring.
“He’s already left,” Raymose said, his eyes still on me.
“Oh.” I hadn’t expected he’d leave right away. “I should get back then. I have a lot of packing to do.” If I was going to cry, I didn’t want Raymose to see it.
Raymose got to Rain before me. “I thought we’d come to practice,” he said playfully.
“You still want to?”
“I promised I’d help you, and you need all the help you can get,” he joked. But then his face grew serious. His hand reached out and gently pushed aside a piece of hair that had fallen out of place. I saw the look in his eyes as he stared into mine.
“Raymose . . .” My voice was shaky. I felt like I was losing control of my senses.
“Shhh.” He leaned in slowly . . .
I didn’t move. I closed my eyes as his lips gently met mine. It was just as I remembered. A peaceful feeling came over me. I smiled, keeping my eyes shut. I could feel him watching me.
“You’re blushing,” he mused.
“Raymose—”
“Shhh,” He put his finger to my lips. “I just wanted to see if you were still in there, if you’re truly the same Phoebe.” He sighed contently.
“Raymose I’m not.” I could feel the heat rising in my face as I lied. “I’m sorry, I can’t!” My heart started pounding erratically. All the memories of Raymose and I continued to flood my mind, and I knew, these couldn’t be Damen’s memories—these were hers—the memories of a Phoebe long ago.
Without warning, he pulled me to him. His arms encircled me as he held me tightly, lifting me off the ground, his lips longingly taking mine.
I didn’t push him away like I thought I would—I pulled him closer—wrapping my arms around his neck. I was caught up in the memories and the moment of his embrace. I kissed him desperately, heady. He moaned in delight as our kiss intensified.
“Raymose!” My lips broke free, my senses taking hold of me. He released me, and I staggered back a little, gasping for air.
“I still love you,” he admitted just as breathless. His eyes were smoldering. “You remember me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasped. It was the truth. I remembered him, all of him. Raymose had once been my world. A piece of me still mourned the loss of him. How this was possible, I didn’t know.
“That
won’t
happen again,” he breathed. “Not unless you’re free to love me back. I won’t take you from Marcus.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Raymose I’m sorry. I can’t love you the way you want me to.” I could feel my stomach turn. I suddenly felt empty, sad as I watched Raymose smile understandingly—I’d hurt him.
“I know where your heart is. I’ll be content being your friend, if you’ll still have me?” he looked hopeful.
I reached out and held his cheek with my hand. He closed his eyes for a moment and smiled, leaning into my touch.
“You will always be my friend. Thank you.” I put my arms around him and gave him a hug.
“For what?” He hugged me back.
“For loving me, and protecting me.” I could feel the tears swelling in my eyes.
He kissed my forehead gently. “You can always count on me for that.” He reached up and messed my hair before I could duck away. “Now, defend yourself!”
I screamed playfully as Raymose chased me across the lawn with his sword, laughing wildly.
I spent the rest of the afternoon with him. It was just like it used to be. We laughed and talked, not about anything in particular, mostly about my lack of skills—the topic of preference for him. Secretly I think he was trying to rile me up in the hopes that I’d improve. This would undoubtedly take time—
lots
of time!
We’d finished around four o’clock, and I was exhausted. Raymose was relentless. He didn’t take “I’m tired” for an excuse. We practiced each move until I blocked Raymose’s sword successfully. I’d learn from him, or die. There was no other option.