Knight Awakened (Circle of Seven #1) (28 page)

With a flick, she split its mouth wide and looked inside. Clean and straight, the stitches sat as she had left them with nary a lump to indicate the amulet lay hidden behind fold after fold of leather. Afina traced each one then palmed her healing knife. Often used to lance abscesses, the small blade made quick work, cutting through each thread to unearth an infection of a different kind.

The crystal winked in the low light.

About the size of her palm, the gemstone was a perfect circle. Cut with a precision seldom seen, the gemstone sat in a bed of gold, the lip of which curled around it to form a quarter-inch band. Afina traced the inscription engraved on the golden face with her fingertip. Each letter looped into the next, forming an intricate message that looked more like scrollwork than words.

The engraving was written in an ancient language. One Afina couldn’t read. Her mother had never bothered to teach her.

Her hand poised above it, she stared at the thing then reached in. She cringed as the pendant slid into her palm, expecting to see her mother’s face, hear her voice and the terrible things she’d always said. Ghosting warmth wrapped around her forearm instead. The heat dove beneath the surface of her skin, and a wave of contentment wound its way around her heart. The amulet pulsed then hummed a welcome.

Put me on
, it seemed to say. As though only the skin around her neck would do.

She fingered the gold links. After a moment, she dipped her head and looped the chain over it. As the pendant settled against her heart, she sighed. By the goddess, it felt like coming home.

“And so you are,” the voice said as white light flashed on the riverbank. “Welcome, daughter.”

Afina yelped and shot to her feet. Twin fists at the ready, she raised them as she’d seen Xavian do and spun toward the water’s edge. A woman stood six feet away. Dressed in an emerald gown, the sparkling folds flowed around her long limbs and graceful lines. A jeweled crown perched amid auburn hair that flowed in a wave to her ankles. Afina traced the golden aura surrounding the woman’s body, felt her power, and knew awe for the first time in her life.

The goddess: keeper of light and shadow. Mother of all things.

At a complete loss for words, she stood stock-still and stared. The goddess gazed back, a soft smile on her face, no doubt waiting for her to return the greeting. But...what did one say to a goddess?

Probably something polite and respectful.

Lowering her fists, Afina ran through the possibilities. Just as she settled on one, her mouth ran away with her brain, and she blurted, “Where the devil have you been?”

The goddess laughed. The tinkling sound circled, wrapping Afina in a warm embrace. “I can see why the male desires you, child. Your spirit is commendable.”

Taking a shallow breath, Afina fought the hollowness rising like a starburst inside her. A burn with sharp teeth and bitter disposition, it scorched her, begging for freedom. How dare the goddess
praise
her? The all-powerful being had stood by and done nothing while her family suffered.

“Why did you never help?” Afina took a step toward her, muscles so tight they shrieked in protest. “Why? Bianca is dead! And my brother, he—”

“Will come back to you...in time.”

In time? What did that mean? Afina paced to the opposite side of the clearing. It was either that or scream and hurl a tree branch at the deity’s head.

“Patience, Afina.” The goddess drew her elegant hands from inside the wide sleeves of her gown. “All things happen for a reason. Destiny takes each on their own journey. Bianca’s life was meant to be powerful but never long. You have her memory to comfort you. Be satisfied with that.”

“Satisfied...” Afina fisted her hand in her tunic, right over her heart. The ache was unbearable. An empty hole inside her that grew by the day. How was she to fill it? What would stop the hurt?

She stared at the rippling surface of the river, struggling to understand. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t. It was senseless, the pain and suffering so unnecessary. “You could have saved her. You could have...”

Her green eyes filled with what Afina wanted to believe was sorrow, the goddess shook her head. “Nay, child. Things are as they should be, and you are the stronger for it.”

“It isn’t fair.”

“Not many things are. But know this...you are the chosen. The bridge from the past into our future.”

“I don’t understand. Not any of it.”

Gentle fingers touched her chin. Afina raised her head and stared across the expanse between them. The goddess hadn’t moved, but she felt the brush of her hand. Her chin perched on invisible fingers, Afina watched the goddess shimmer in the evening light.

Brushing the hair away from Afina’s temple, she said, “Daughter, I have waited so many moons for you to be ready. Very soon our work will begin. Until then, stay close to your male. We will speak again when you are safely housed within his fortress.”

“But—”

“Look to the sky, Afina.” The goddess tapped the tip of her nose, glanced at the setting sun, then disappeared on a wave of sparkling light.

The last of her instructions came through on a whisper.
“Look to the sky, child.”

A ripple of unease rolled through Afina. Unable to ignore the warning, she glanced up and heard a faint undulation of large wings. Heaven help her.

Grabbing both satchels on the fly, Afina tore toward the trail and Xavian. She needed to reach him before they did.

For the first time in his life, Xavian was afraid. Not of Henrik or his threats, but of himself. The ultimatum his friend had delivered wasn’t the problem. He could deal with the consequences of denying Henrik. Delivering death to preserve his life was a part of him—so familiar he called it friend most days. Instinct wasn’t a bad thing. It kept him strong, but now it ran contrary to his will.

Wed Afina.

La dracu.
Temptation nearly brought him to his knees. What he wouldn’t give to wake up with her each morning and love her every night. To have her time and attention, to share the moments in his day, both large and small. To have someone love him for more than what he could do with a blade.

But then that was the problem, wasn’t it?

All he knew—all he was—started and ended in a fight. Without a sword in his hand, he didn’t amount to much. Aye, Afina would give him all he needed, everything he craved, but what did he have to give her in return? Naught. He was a brutal man with a brutal way of life. Her gentle soul and loving heart wouldn’t survive him. Without meaning to he would take her apart, one piece at a time until he destroyed what he loved about her.

Xavian rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He couldn’t let that happen. She was too precious, too pure to be touched again by him.

“What say you?”

He glanced at Henrik. Crouched by the fire pit, his friend’s gaze drilled him. The persistent bastard wasn’t going to drop the issue. He wanted an answer—his promise—and as Xavian watched him stir the fire with a thin stick, he searched for the
right response. Something to appease his comrade and buy himself more time.

When he didn’t answer, Henrik’s eyes narrowed on him. Xavian ignored the warning and walked past him to reach his saddlebags. Flipping the leather flap open, he palmed a small packet. As he turned, he tossed the bundle at his friend. Henrik caught it in midair.

“New laces.” Closing the bag, he straightened and glanced toward the path. The small break in the trees stood empty, but it wouldn’t for long. Afina was coming up the trail.

’Twas the strangest thing, but he could feel her like a heartbeat. He needed the conversation to end...now, before she entered the dell. The last thing he wanted was for her to overhear—he wouldn’t dishonor her with false promises.

He dragged his focus from the path and approached the pit. Stepping over a moss-covered log, he sat and met Henrik’s gaze head-on. “All will be settled at Drachaven.”

“With a priest?”

“I’ll find one,” he said, feeling like a cad for misleading his friend. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. He would keep his word. Drachaven needed a priest and his people, a good father’s guidance. Others would be married by the man even if Xavian never used his services.

“Good.” Henrik dropped the stick and picked up the wooden spoon. He stirred the stew then sipped, tasting the broth. “’Tis ready. Do we wait for Afina or—”

“Xavian!” Afina tore into the clearing, both satchels flapping behind her.

The urgency in her voice elevated his pulse. Xavian shot to his feet. He scanned the woods behind her. Was someone after her? Had she been hurt? Bandits sometimes roamed the forest,
outcasts waiting for unsuspecting travelers. They’d always given him a wide berth, but...

He unsheathed the daggers high on his chest and heard Henrik do the same.

After searching the tree line, his attention slid back to Afina. He ran his gaze over her, fearing an injury, and stopped short. Not a bruise or a scratch, but...sweet Jesu. Xavian swallowed, unable to take his eyes away from the trews. From all the lovely curves encased in leather.

God help him. Her legs were so long.

He relived the feel of them wrapped around his hips. The memory gathered speed until coherent thought left his head. The mass exodus took the blood with it, sending a rush below his waist. As the traitor in his own trews stirred, Xavian started at her boots and worked his way up, memorizing the slim line of her calves and sweetly rounded thighs. The hollow between almost did him in, but more than anything he wanted her to turn around. He hadn’t seen her bottom during their loving in the stables. If only she’d—

“Xavian.” Out of breath, she doubled over, planting both hands on her knees. “We need to go.”

The urge to move around behind her and enjoy the view grabbed hold. He started toward her. She straightened, and frustration got the better of him until he met her gaze. Fear shone in her eyes, a true panic that returned him to proper working order.

Shoving lust back into its drawer, he sheathed one blade and reached for her. Her skin whispered against his palm as he cupped the side of her neck. “What?”

“We need to leave...right now.” She grabbed his forearm with both hands.

Henrik stepped up beside them, his focus on the trees. “Why?”

She turned wide eyes on her brother. “They’re coming. I can hear them...they’re coming.”

Xavian didn’t need to ask, he knew. “H, put out the fire. I’ll saddle the horses.”

With a nod, his friend pivoted toward the fire pit and their evening meal.

“What can I do?”

“Gather our things, Afina. Make sure they are well packed and the ties well knotted.” Xavian gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, hating the fact he could do naught more to reassure her. If what she sensed held true, the dragons weren’t far off. He refused to risk Afina again, to test her abilities a second time. The pain she’d experienced after their first attack told him all he needed to know. She might not survive another. “We ride hard and fast for Drachaven.”

She clung to his arm. “But—”

“Go,” he said, putting the harshness of command in his tone. Without time for regret, he gave her a little push as he released her. “We’re going to outrun the bastards.”

A winged shadow drifted over the ground, blocking out the setting sun. Hunched over the saddle horn, Afina followed Xavian’s lead. She didn’t need to look to know Henrik rode hell-bent behind her. She could almost feel his horse’s breath on the back of her neck.

A second silhouette joined the first, turning the brown dirt of the forest floor black.

The dark stain banked right, circling behind them, and sweat trickled between her shoulder blades. A chill swept through her, chasing the droplets down her spine. With the reins sliding between her numb fingers, she waited for the third shadow.

Violet Eyes hadn’t flown over yet.

The magical trace he left in his wake was different than the others—a unique signature she knew as sure as the moon-star on her shoulder. He was older, filled with a cosmic vibration Afina recognized without knowing why. The fact he was absent didn’t feel right.

Why had he sent Tareek and the younger dragon ahead?

Another mile thundered past, her heartbeat keeping time with the horses’ hooves, her mind chewing on the question while tree trunks blurred together. The fury of it made Afina imagine the forest was taking cover—as though each tree knew what flew above and had picked up its roots to flee in the opposite
direction. The thinning woods gave credence to the thought. They were running out of trail, galloping straight into the teeth of the Carpathians.

Afina flinched. That was it...the reason they hadn’t moved in for the kill.

The canny beasts were waiting for them to reach the mountains, a dragon’s natural hunting ground. Violet Eyes was no doubt perched in a deep crevice while the others herded them toward him like cattle.

Mother Mary. She needed to warn Xavian. Now. Before he charged into a trap.

Afraid to yell and alert Tareek, Afina urged her horse to greater speed. With a snort, the beast surged forward then faltered—ears flat, sides heaving—exhaustion from the extended run taking hold. If she pushed the gelding any harder he would stumble, and she would fall.