I slammed into the back doors as I pushed them out toward the forest, and the blustery chill of autumn swept my hair backward, almost giving it to David’s reach. But the darkness of low, looming clouds and a moonless sky gave me shadows to hide in—possible only because of the weakened eyes of the starving vampire. He was losing the fight, and if I truly needed to outrun him rather than lead him away, I could have. So I slowed my steps just enough to let him catch up again.
“Ara!” he screamed with a kind of ferocity behind it that made me hope to God he didn’t catch me until we were in the boundaries of the forest. Running away, ‘disobeying’ his orders made him angry, and if he caught me, I could tell he
would
hurt me. The guards patrolling the manor gardens should have heard him scream that way—should have come running to see what was going on. And as the anger flamed in me for their incompetence, I made a list in my mind of all the soldiers that would be brought before me in Court tomorrow to face my wrath. Then again, maybe they were watching—just standing back and making sure they didn’t accidentally intervene in what might be nothing more than a small argument. That was the role of my knights, really. But Falcon’s decision to leave me unguarded while in the manor had, unfortunately, come too soon. Come at a very bad time. Because right now, more than ever before, I could actually use his help.
The energy of the forest resonated out from the border, like a dark but warm hand cradling the air. My bare feet hit the ground with such a force that the leaves sprung up behind me, leaving a trail of noise and spattered dirt in my wake—the only noise, the only disruption in this otherwise unnervingly still night. The trees watched as we charged toward them, their eyes respectfully observing what was nothing but an entertaining break in the norm for them.
I checked over my shoulder to see David falling slightly behind again, and as I looked up to see how far until the border, I slammed straight into a tree—a barky mess exploding from its trunk, covering my hair and hands in dust as I ignored the sting in my ribs and shoulder and hugged the tree for dear life. I made it. I made it.
“Ara.” David grabbed my arm and snapped me toward him—drawing me outside the border again.
I screamed, reaching back for the tree.
“Shut up. I’m not here to hurt you.” He spun my spine into his chest and covered my mouth and half my nose with a very firm hand. “Calm down.”
In my desperation to escape his arms, we stumbled back a few steps, slipping just inside the border of the forest until he regained his footing, moving us back out again. I rammed my elbow into his ribs, scraping his shins with my heels as I stomped on his foot, fighting to drag him just two steps to our right. But the run weakened me more than it should have, and his arms won out over me.
“Why are you fighting me?” he grumbled, squeezing my body so tight I felt like my ears would pop. And then his foot finally crossed the threshold again, so I jammed my hand behind my back and grabbed his balls, spinning out of his grasp and knocking him onto his back as he cried out.
“Don’t move,” I said through my teeth, pressing his throat firmly with my bare foot.
“Yield,” he choked out, surrendering with one hand up, the other cupping his probably very sore testicles. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, Ara.”
I eased my foot back off his jugular. “I wasn't scared.”
“Then … what the hell!” He sat up a bit, rubbing his neck. “Why did you run?”
“David, I think you’ve got a hex on you.” I squatted down in front of him.
“A what?”
“A hex—a spell that acts more like a curse.”
“And what makes you think this?” He clambered to his feet, still rubbing his neck then his elbow.
“Drake told me. He said he believes Morgana put a hex on you.”
“And you just take his word as gospel now?”
“No. But I believe him about this.”
He pushed past me and walked deeper into the trees, blending a little with the shadows of night a few feet away. “Fine. Let’s say I believe you. What kind of a hex are we talking about?”
“I’m not sure.” I stood very slowly up from my squat. “But it might have something to do with your dreams—your desire to see me dead.”
He rushed in and grabbed my arm again, shoving me back into a tree trunk with the force. “What kind of spell can make a man desperate to kill his own wife?”
“A nasty one,” I coughed out, winded. “One probably designed to keep you from loving me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. But both Morgana and Lilith have reasons they want us apart.”
“Lilith—the Mother of Nature?” He glanced over his shoulder, then leaned closer and whispered through his teeth, “The one we’ve trusted all along?”
“Yes.”
He let go of my arm and backed away.
“She didn't just
advise
me to be with Jason, David. She all but
ordered
me to. And then Marked me when I refused.”
His eyes shot straight to the black band on my ring finger.
“Yes,” I said, straightening my clothes. “That one. She added that, by refusing Jason’s love, I’d basically set my own inevitable end in motion.”
“From what I know,” he muttered, his voice sounding distant as he walked into the dark, “you have.”
“I don't believe her.” I moved toward his silhouette. “Maybe it’s true. Maybe it’s not. But she seemed too upset to be purely worried about me dying.”
“So she has her own agenda,” he said simply. And just the way he said it, sounding so decided, made me suddenly convinced of its truth, leaving me wondering why I questioned myself in the first place.
“I guess so. But what?” I said.
“Is she in league with Morgana? Did she assist with this … hex?”
I shrugged.
“What would either of them have to gain by keeping us apart?” he asked himself, pacing. “Or perhaps not apart.” He stopped. “But by placing you with Jason?”
I shrugged again. “When I first got to the manor, Lilith wanted me kept
away
from Jason. At any cost. And then she just … changed her mind.”
“But you don’t know why?”
“No.” I pouted. “She tried to tell me but…”
“But?”
“As is the fashion for my foolishness, I said I didn't want to hear it.”
He wasn't shocked. “Why?”
“I was tired of it all—tired of being told by prophets and Rune Readers and scrolls what I had to do. I mean, they told me I was destined to free the people, then Morg told me I was destined to kill the evil King Drake, and then it was my child that was supposed to. Safe to say, David, I don’t really believe what anyone says they can predict about my future anymore. It feels like they all just tell me what they need me to hear to get me to do what they want me to do.”
“I understand that, Ara. I really do.”
“But?”
“No buts. I don't blame you at all for refusing to hear another word of it. I think I'd have done the same.”
And I nearly fell over. I took a moment to compose myself, bristling with pride, and added, “She did, however, say I was changing things—said by denying Jason’s love I was altering the course of Fate.”
“Did she give you the impression this was a bad thing?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t really take the time to analyse.” I looked at my bare, dirty feet, and wriggled the tiny leaves out from between my toes. “She did say that if I loved Jason, he’d give his life to save
‘the…’
,” I added. “And that’s when I cut her off. So she probably meant ‘baby’.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because she also told me originally that either myself or our child was at risk if I chose you. So maybe he’s meant to save her, or something.”
“From what?”
I shrugged. “Who knows? I don’t think it’ll come to that.”
“No, you think it’ll be
you
that dies,” he said dully.
“Yes. And that’s exactly what she hoped you’d discover by seeing this.” I showed him my branded hand.
“Why?”
“Because she wanted to provoke a fight between us—wanted you to hate me for choosing to risk my own life instead of ensuring my own safety by being with your brother.”
Even from this distance in the dark, I could still see his eyes focus suddenly on me. “How could I hate you for that—for choosing me over him?”
“Because it was foolish. Lilith said—told me I should be more mature and do what’s right over what I desire.”
David just laughed. “Then she knew exactly how to sway you to her wishes—preying on your need to be a good queen.”
“I guess so. But it didn't work.”
“No,” he said absently. “But they did get me to hate you.”
“In their defence, I kinda helped.”
His shoulders dropped and a black and white flash of a memory that clearly belonged to Jason, and only to Jason, filled in his mind like a hologram in an orb. I suddenly saw my naked body through the eyes of my husband’s brother, and it was as beautiful as it was disturbing.
“You should never have taken those thoughts from him,” I said.
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because you were my
everything
, Ara. This sweet, precious girl that I’d move mountains to protect, and someone else had you in their arms. I had to know what he did to you.”
“But you didn’t see all of it, did you? He—”
“He refused to show me.” His fists tightened by his sides. “Fought me harder than he’s ever fought for anything.”
“You didn’t hurt him, did you?”
He swallowed hard. I actually
heard
the saliva move down his throat from here.
“Why?” I asked, barely controlling the rise of anger. “What did it matter, if you hated me for doing it anyway?”
He closed his eyes. “You know nothing of what I felt for you, Ara.”
“Yes, I do,” I said incredulously. “You didn't even hear me out when I told you, David. You threatened to kill anyone that stopped you from seeking vengeance. You—”
“What did you expect me to do?” he yelled. “I didn't know
what
to do, Ara. What to say or think or—God!” He braced his forehead in his hands and just stood there, taking deep, controlled breaths. “This spell?”
“Mm?”
“You believe it’s the cause of this desire to kill you?”
“I don’t know. If that desire started right after you found about Jason, then probably not. I don’t think this spell was present until more recently.”
He looked up from his hands with a half smile. “I didn't want to kill you that day, you know.”
“What day?”
“The day…” His head bounced, his hands circling in the air in a prompting gesture. “
That
day.”
“Oh.” My lips stayed in an O shape. “You
said
you did.”
“Did I?” His eyebrow moved down with doubt.
Both my shoulders moved up to my ears and stayed there. “I … I’m not sure now. But I sure as hell
thought
you were going to.”
He laughed before composing himself with a small cough. “I know. I was pretty mad.”
“And you’re still mad.”
His posture slumped slightly as he exhaled. “Not as mad you’d think.”
“As mad as you’ve been acting?” I asked.
“I hope not.”
“Then…” I gulped down the quake in my voice and it stuck in my chest. “You don't actually want me dead?”
“Of course not, Ara,” he whispered to the ground. “And that’s what confuses me so much about these dreams. The fact that, when I wake and the dream slips away—taking the sense of failure and the fear that you’ll still be alive with it—I feel nothing but pain.”
“Pain?”
He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes glassy. “The pain. Punishment. It’s the pure physical agony I suffer when I feel anything for you.”
“What do you mean?”
His mouth twisted up and his eyes closed as if that pain ripped through him right now. And the weight of it was too much for his brittle body. His knees buckled and he dropped slowly and weakly to them, a fist bracing the ground to hold him up.
“David!” I ran to his side and knelt down in the dirt. “Are you okay? Are you in pain now?”
He shook his head softly. “I lay there—for hours after, trying to tell myself I would never want you dead. But…” His head slowly rolled up until his sad, glassy eyes met mine. “The agony when I try to admit that to myself—try to admit that, no matter what you did to hurt me, somewhere inside of me, I … I miss you and I…” He dropped his head. “It’s unbearable.”
My hand hesitantly landed on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in pain?”
“I couldn't.” He smoothed his jaw along the backs of my fingers. “Ara, I was Marked for loving you when I had no right. I had to stay away from you—”
“Wait, what do you mean you ‘had no right’?”