Marek finished speaking and both men disappeared through the door, leaving it open behind them. An open door beckoned for another to follow and Carina doubted the invitation was meant for her.
Even from across the room, she noticed Marek’s forehead etched with worry. The noise from her footsteps echoing off the walls as she approached seemed to disturb a lingering tension, like a trapped animal searching for a way to escape.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Marek scrubbed his hands over his face before wrapping his arms around her. Normally, she would’ve enjoyed their closeness, but now the embrace combined with his silence stirred a growing fear.
“Marek?” The rise and fall of his chest as he sighed only intensified her anxiety.
“This is not how I wanted things to be.”
“Just tell me,” she insisted, the not knowing unbearable.
“The man with the red hair was King RiJec Gaiwane. His lands were attacked by Outlanders yesterday, two villages slaughtered. His trackers are following the marauders and he wants my assistance.”
She stared into his somber face. A muscle ticked in his jaw and his narrowed eyes chilled her heart. She glanced at the floor and whispered, “So, you’re leaving.”
When she tried to slip away, he gathered her back into his chest. “Aye, I must. He’s a neighboring king. We’ve sworn an allegiance to each other. Please, understand this.”
Of course, she knew he had to go. She expected nothing less. But how could she let him leave knowing he’d be in danger. She lifted her head and fixed her eyes on his. “Then, I’m going with you.”
From the frown on his face, she knew his answer before he spoke and anger flared in her belly. “Why not?” she demanded. “I’m just as good as your archers…if not better.”
He stepped away. “No, Carina. I won’t discuss this further.”
“But I’m not finished,” she persisted, blocking his retreat when he would’ve left the hall.
The grey flecks in his eyes darkened, but she refused to back down. “I can help.”
“No.” He spun for the door.
An irrational panic rose inside her, choking the air from her lungs. She reached for him. “Please, let me go with you.”
He stopped when her hand grabbed his arm, but didn’t look at her. When he finally turned, her boldness wavered. The set jaw and clamped lips told her that he was still going to refuse her, but he couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes.
“Carina,” he whispered on a defeated breath. As if he needed to touch her, he buried his hands in the curls of her hair. She glanced away, unwilling to let go of her anger. She could ride a Criton and shoot an arrow with as much accuracy as the men, so his reluctance to even consider her offer chafed her pride. She’d proven herself in battle. She’d be an asset, not a hindrance.
Marek chuckled, and forced her head up to place his forehead against hers. “My stubborn girl,” he whispered. “You’re too important to me. I won’t put you in danger.”
“But it’s okay to put
yourself
in danger?” Her hands slid up his chest as her body gathered strength. She tried to turn when his lips brushed against her cheek, but he held her. And when his mouth found hers, she shoved hard against him. He countered by grabbing the back of her neck. His other arm encircled her waist and locked her body against his.
Anger blistered through her veins, but his kiss remained soft. “Shh, Carina,” he murmured against her mouth. “Be still.”
His request dampened her resolve. Despite herself, her body shivered. She faltered. Her mind wanted to stay mad, but her body betrayed her and surrendered to the longing he could bring forth from deep within her.
“Don’t make this more difficult for me and let us not part on an argument.”
His voice seeped through her skin. He smelled of fresh pine and leather as she inhaled his scent. Pressed against his chest with his hands splayed along her back, her anger evaporated. She opened her mouth and melted into his body. Her arms swept around his waist, clutching him tight. She could feel the desperation in his kiss and her body reacted with a need of its own.
He broke the kiss and rested his cheek against hers, breathing heavy. “You make it hard to leave.”
“Then don’t go.”
“You know I must.”
“Yes…I do.” With a courage she didn’t feel, she stepped from his arms. “Then go so you can come back to me.”
The whoosh of leathery wings as Critons landed outside, and FireStrike’s distinctive roar demanding obedience from his band, drew her attention to the open door. The iron fortified, hardwood entrance reminded her of a gaping maw about to swallow the only person she couldn’t live without.
“Caden is coming with me because RiJec’s men have tracked the Outlanders into the Bridal Lands and Caden can enlist his tribe to help. But Damon is staying here as captain of your guard.” Marek lifted her chin with his finger. His eyebrows furrowed with the importance of his command. “Listen to Damon, and don’t get into trouble.” After a quick kiss on her forehead, he strode for the door but paused at the opening to look at her. His tortured gaze captured her soul and stole the breath from her lungs.
“I will be back, Carina McKay,” he vowed, then stepped through the doorway. In a fluid motion, he jumped onto FireStrike. A few words later, the Critons took to the air with FireStrike and Marek leading the way.
She watched until she could no longer see them then closed the door to the world that had just snatched the man who had seduced her heart.
35 – DREAMS
Almost two weeks to the day after Marek left, Carina had her first nightmare. She hadn’t been sleeping well to begin with, her mind simply refused to shut down. But the nightmare was worse than anything she could conjure up during wakeful, restless mental wanderings.
The nightmare became a regular interloper. They were on a hilltop on a beautiful, sunny day. Out of nowhere a storm developed, darkening the skies and swirling dust into the air. Black thunderclouds tumbled above the Dorrado landscape. Without warning and devoid of mercy, demons poured from the heavens. Swooping and diving, they attacked from everywhere, yet came from nowhere.
Lightning splashed across the sky illuminating his swords and chest armor in brief, intense flashes of light. Silhouetted against the roiling thunderheads, Marek protected her from the endless onslaught. She knelt beside him as his blades whirled in a continuous, unyielding cadence. To observe him was to see grace, skill, and a sheer masculine strength that filled her with awe.
As he fought the flying demons that always stayed beyond the reach of his steel, her heart would swell with such pride and admiration for the man who would be her warrior, her king…her lover that she would willingly forfeit her life to ensure his survival. But the sky would unleash a sudden blinding light, engulfing him. In agony, he’d crumble to the ground. As she screamed his name, his pain-filled eyes would find her and shatter her heart into a million jagged pieces before he burst into flame. Again and again the dream played out in her mind, night after endless night.
During the days, she drifted without purpose as lack of sleep and worry for Marek battered her body like a wave crashing down upon her. She lost weight, her energetic appetite gone. She tried to distract herself by attending a few formal functions, but the queen mother wasn’t hospitable, which the Ladies of the Court took as an example to follow.
She could only find solace by taking to the skies on Mira. She’d get up in the morning, call Mira down from one of the cave dwellings, and spend the rest of the day flying, letting her mind drift with the wind.
Now, several weeks later, she sat on top of the tallest mountain along Marek’s western border. A constant wind blew in her face causing her skin to pebble from the chill. She hugged her knees in a poor attempt to console the hollow emptiness inside her. Desolation, her constant companion, hung from her shoulders like a shroud.
Mira’s impatient snort drew her attention. She tucked away her misery to check on the last beloved creature in the world that mattered to her. Mira stood next to a spindly tree, the sole living resident on the mountaintop.
She smiled at Mira’s transformation. Her emerald skin shimmered in the late afternoon sun and her green eyes glistened with intelligence. She pawed the ground, her four claws digging divots into the only patch of dirt where the tree could take root, and snorted again.
Carina’s lips curved up in a small smile. “Okay, I get it. You’re ready to go.”
Mira jumped into the air before Carina’s feet were secured in the stirrups and pumped her strong wings to propel them skyward. She banked toward Stirrlan without guidance, rising until she caught a wind current to increase her speed.
They were gliding down the backside of a smaller mountain range when something in the distance captured Carina’s attention. A glimmer of red sparkling in the fading sunlight before it disappeared over the horizon. She gasped as her cobwebbed heart sputtered to life, beating for the first time in weeks.
36 – RETURN
Carina landed Mira in a lower pasture near the castle proper. She rubbed Mira’s nose before unbuckling the saddle and slipping the bridle from Mira’s head. “Forgive me, but I must hurry,” she mumbled. Abandoning the saddle and reins where they had fallen, Carina sprinted up the hill.
Dust hung in the spring air from the trampling feet of excited people and Critons, mixing with the sweet scent of wet leather and orange blossoms. She tried to organize her thoughts while dodging high-strung Critons and barking warrigals. For weeks, she’d rehearsed what she would say and how she would behave for Marek’s homecoming, but she’d missed her opportunity. Why had she picked today to ride so far from Stirrlan?
She pushed past soldiers who were hugging their wives and sidestepped the horde of children who were jumping and behaving…well…like children. Sweat trickled down her back as she darted around people and animals. She should act more civilized and slow down, but the crowd thinned before she could adjust her behavior. Sliding to a stop, she scanned the diminishing throng.
Her heart stumbled. She batted away the tears that tumbled down her cheeks. Her body quaked as tremors threatened to toss her to the ground. He hadn’t returned, her worst nightmare proven true. The world lost focus. Her body disconnected from her emotions to protect itself from the pain searing a hole through her heart. How could she survive without him?
She turned away from the dwindling group, already cutting herself off from the world when a stable boy holding the reins of a tawny Criton blocked her path. As they walked past, her breath caught in her chest. In the opening the Criton had just vacated, Marek stood. His eyes ensnared her. Nareen hovered beside him and a rush of jealousy chased through her veins.
She
should’ve been the one to greet him, not Nareen.
She walked toward him, but her pace was too slow. So, she ran. Her mind whirled. What should she do when she reached him—a low bow, hold out her hand for approval, a simple greeting? But when Marek smiled, she forgot about etiquette. Whatever royal control she was supposed to exhibit shed from her like a thin veil. She raced to him, her feet churning up small puffs of dust. And she didn’t stop and bow when she approached, but jumped into his waiting arms. She held him tight, burying her head in his shoulder and digging her hands into his hair.
“Carina,” he murmured.
Like a tonic, his voice healed her soul and breathed life back into her body. She lost control, sobbing against his neck as weeks of pent up feelings tumbled out of her in jumbled waves.
“My dear one, why are you crying?”
He smelled of Criton and leather as she hugged him, rejoicing in the strength of his embrace. When he had left, her loneliness had grown into an intolerable beast, sucking away her life force until she had become a shell of a person. As she clung to him, she vowed she’d never endure such heartbreak again because Marek would never leave her again. Whatever their journey in life, they’d do it together regardless of the danger or consequence.
Gently, he pried apart her death grip hold and lowered her to the ground. His hands cradled her face, his brows creased with worry. She skimmed her fingers along his jaw. “You were gone so long,” she stuttered.
With a low moan, Marek wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her hair. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I was going mad,” she hiccupped. “I saw you dead. I’d wake up reaching for you.”
Carina’s pain speared his chest as if he’d been impaled by a harpoon cannon. He tilted her head and rested his forehead against hers. “I’m here now.”
Tension vibrated off her shoulders. He had sensed her distress as soon as she jumped into his arms, disregarding all sense of protocol and risking disgrace. His heart tightened. He should’ve been here to watch over her.
She swiped at the tears leaving tracks down her dirt-smudged face, and inhaled gulps of air trying to compose herself. But it was too late for him. His control slipped through his hands like water. Dipping his head, he brushed his lips across hers just to taste her. Her immediate response inflamed him. Ignoring their public display and his mother’s hiss of disgust, the kiss deepened. Her body molded to his. She slid her arms inside his riding duster and secured him around the waist.
Exhaustion plagued his body from the grueling pace he’d demanded to get home, but Carina’s caress and the sweet smell of her revitalized him. The world disappeared, his focus narrowing to the girl in his arms. She was the craving. Only her touch, whispered laugh, and body could save him. A sudden need to claim her overrode coherent thought. He forced his lips from hers and wrapped an arm protectively around her before bending to whisper in her ear. “Come with me.”