Betrayal and Yearning_A Fantasy Romance Page 12
A slow dawning crept over her, and her eyes narrowed.
“You repeated the words after me,” he continued, “and weren’t healed, but said you felt something.”
Her vision clouded. She opened then shut her mouth as he continued speaking.
“But that’s not all.”
“What the hell more could there be?” she snarled, finding her voice.
One after another he ran his hands through his hair. “The marriage spell we used is a binding spell.”
She shook her head, not understanding.
“It’s used when one person is human.”
“And?” God, get on with it.
“I had to do it. To keep you safe from the elf as well as to claim my throne someday.” When she moved to speak, he rushed to finish. “The spell binds your fate to mine by changing your race. Because of your weak human blood, you’re dwarven now and human no longer.”
Disbelief congealed in the pit of her stomach. She scanned her limbs and felt over her face.
“You still look like yourself,” he reassured, “but anyone looking will soon see you’re a dwarf by rite of marriage.” He took half a step towards her but paused when she flinched. “It’s like when you’re alone and know when someone enters the room, though they haven’t made a sound? You just sense they’re there. Well, that’s a bit how this is. Everyone will know you’re a changeling.”
Willing herself to un-hear his words, she shook her head, but they echoed in her brain. They were married. The bastard had tricked her. A thought struck as her mind raced. She had felt something after saying the vows, but the real change had come after they’d had sex. It was as though she inhabited a new body… It wasn’t possible. Yet, he’d resisted every overture up until last night.
“Why’d you finally agree to have sex?” she asked, voice low, praying the answer wasn’t what she suspected.
He said nothing.
His silence told her more than any words would have. Her vision dimmed. The tingling spread noticeably now, encompassing her entire lower half.
“Why did we have sex?” This time she shouted. Hands balled at her sides, she stared at him, trying to ignore the roiling in her stomach. He’d betrayed her. The bastard had taken away her free agency, and she’d helped him!
Small quakes wracked within, leaving her shaking. Fists clenched only to release then clench again.
Braum stared at her, brows drawn. When he reached out to steady her, she shot him a withering glare. “Jessica, I love you,” he said, golden eyes never leaving hers. “I love you,” he repeated and grabbed her hand. “We made love because we both wanted each other.”
“And?” she shrieked. A ball of anger flared in her bosom before trailing down her arms towards her fingertips. She couldn’t stop shuddering, feeling a mysterious hand now in command of her body, her words, and her very thoughts. Every nerve pulsed as though an army of red-hot embers raced through her, readying for battle.
Warm fingers gripped hers tighter. “We had to consummate the marriage to seal the spell.” He confessed, concern edging his voice. “If not consummated by dawn, you and I would not be wed, and you would not now be transitioning to dwarf.” He tried pulling her close, but she held herself back. “That’s everything. I swear it.” A worried frown strained his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain this to you. Can you forgive me?”
Chaos reigned in her body as the rage circulating through her reached her fingertips and head at the same time. She relinquished all control and snarled, “Forgive you? Like hell!”
CHAPTER 11
Braum glanced around the glen, surprised at the vehemence in Jessica’s tone, when she ripped her arm from his grasp. Her eyes twitched back and forth beneath closed eyelids.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he reassured when her eyes snapped open, glowing with an otherworldly blue light. Shit.
“Silence!” a voice commanded. The word came from Jessica’s lips but bore the power of a hundred other beings behind it. “You married this child without her consent? Used magics you had no right to contemplate much less speak? We of olde will not allow a usurper to take that which he has not been given. You’ll pay for what you’ve done.” The emphasis on the final word chilled him to the bone. Without a doubt, he knew he was going to die and by his own bride’s hand.
Almost imperceptibly Jessica shook her head, as though she fought an internal battle.
Her irises flickered and for a moment, shifted back to their clear gray before the glow reappeared, though slightly less vibrant than before.
“Prepare to suffer immeasurable pain,” the voices said.
Adrenaline surged through his body and he swallowed hard.
Jessica’s body arched at an impossible angle, arms behind her as though reaching for something. Her mouth opened on a silent cry, agony to his ears, though there was no sound.
Uncertainty shot through him as he tried to figure out a way to help his wife, when he noticed the stones emerging from the river, behind her. River rocks of all sizes hovered in the air, glistening, and dripping in the morning sun, their numbers multiplying by the second. A great rapid suddenly raged where the once docile stream had flowed.
He knew what was coming but wouldn’t have the chance to run. Was this what he deserved for tricking the woman he loved?
All thoughts fled as Jessica flung herself forward, her arms arcing over her head. And every rock aimed straight at him.
As the first stones pounded his body, he barely registered their impact, such was his concern for Jessica, standing directly in their path. More rocks pummeled him, pushing him back on his heels.
Jogged by dozens of hits, Jessica lurched as stones struck her in an effort to find him. He shouted hoarsely, but she didn’t flinch or blink, as though she felt nothing.
Off-balance, Braum struggled to keep his footing when he spotted a jagged piece of slate arcing through the air, it’s trajectory flying too close to Jessica. “Move!” he yelled, his voice like gravel. Instead, she turned her head slightly as if she hadn’t quite heard his command. He watched as the rock’s knife-edge caught her at the temple and rent her face hairline to jaw. For a moment, the white of her skull shone, before red welled to fill the jagged gash, then flooded down her face.
Crimson from head to waist, she turned to face him.
He pushed towards her, wanting to help. But unable to compete with the sheer number of stones battering him, staggered backwards until he lay flush with the cliff wall. Their shelter the night before.
Rocks piled steadily. He felt every stone crash into him and rip the flesh from his muscles. Fighting to keep his eyes on his wife’s gushing wound, he barely flinched. She was losing too much blood. He needed to help her! But as stones pinned him in place, something crunched painfully within. He gasped, struggling to breathe as bones shattered. And yet still more rocks came.
The finality struck him, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the end.
When the pounding finally ceased, he blinked, finding himself buried alive with only his face exposed.
Barely able to moan, the overwhelming pain of crushed bones and torn flesh hit him with sharp agony. He’d never been afraid of death, but now he welcomed it.
***
Jessica collapsed to her knees and reached a shaking hand to her face. It came away red and the world tilted.
It took a moment for her head to clear. After wiping the blood from her eyes, she stared at the man she’d loved. Nothing but his face showed under the pile of rocks. Whatever force had taken control of her will was punishing Braum for what he’d done.
The thought made her shiver.
Trembling uncontrollably, tears slipped down her face. She felt damaged, and it wasn’t just the cut burning across her face. There was also regret, anger… and perhaps guilt? She pushed that aside and focused on the new sensation coursing through her body and knew it for what it was. Magic. It surged through her veins with every heartbeat. But why?
&nb
sp; Then there was Braum, trapped, punished. It brought her such wicked satisfaction, she couldn’t think about it. She’d never been the type of person to feel pleasure from another’s pain, but it felt so good seeing him penalized after what he’d done.
His eyes focused on her, watching, pleading.
Cocooned in magic, he wouldn’t die of his injuries nor of thirst or hunger. Of that she was certain.
Numbness washed over her as though that force had taken her emotions away with it—leaving only magic and apathy in its place. She stood and turned to the now raging river, pausing to listen to the roar of the rapids.
“Jessica,” Braum called, though his voice was distant.
Saying nothing, she walked towards the fire.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, the words cut off by a fit of coughing. “Please—”
Not interested in what he had to say, she tossed his cloak onto the still-glowing embers and pulled her gown on. The gown that had been their shared pillow the night before. She also grabbed his knife and belted it around her waist. Far too big, it sagged over her hips, but she didn’t care. She was taking something of his. And without looking back, she walked away.
CHAPTER 12
Willow struggled to her feet and glanced at the ancient trees towering above her. She didn’t know where the magic came from, but it had used her. Too unsteady to stand, she wiped the blood from her nose with a trembling hand. Stories had been told of the ancients feeding off another’s power to fuel their own magic—thereby making them stronger—but she’d never considered it could happen in this day and age. That was just legend.
Wisps of spent magic, green and gold with darker waves of red, caught her eye and beckoned her deep into the forest. Unsure what’d happened, she had to at least appease her curiosity and follow. Because, from the amount of lingering magic, it’d been a hell of a show.
This meant, of course, she’d miss her opportunity to get to Earth. She was late as it was, getting to the portal and couldn’t open it again for who knew how long. But this power, it was like nothing she’d ever seen.
She got up and hadn’t walked a mile when her breath caught short. Goddess preserve us. Magic radiated from a woman lying cradled in a bed of lush ferns, growing atop a bed of rocks—a place no fern should grow.
Willow tiptoed close, shielding her gaze from the sun’s glare. Blood stained the girl’s gown and hair, but her chest rose in a steady rhythm. Eyes darting, Willow watched the woods creep near, closing in on all sides until a protective screen of trees and shrubs surrounded them.
Though her instincts screamed to run, she knelt and touched the woman’s shoulder only to jerk away on contact. It was as if a fire raged within her flesh.
Unwilling to interfere with such powers, Willow stood to leave. But an unseen presence nudged her, encouraged her to stay.
She sighed and, using her foot, pushed the woman onto her back. “What’ve you done to your face?” she gasped and knelt. Pulling the jagged edges of flesh together over the woman’s cheekbone, Willow ignored the scorching pulses singing her fingers. She tore the scarf from her neck and wrapped it tightly around the wound.
Her mind lingered on one word—fae—as she looked around, wide-eyed. Everything from the jagged cut rending the woman’s face to the unnaturally shadowed glen screamed it. And the woman pulsated with a power unlike any she’d ever known, like that from olde. She didn’t know if she stood more risk tending her or if she just turned and ran away.
***
With a cry, Jessica jerked to a sitting position. She grasped her pounding head and looked around but saw nothing familiar, just plants and shrubs boxing her in on all sides.
“Be calm,” a woman said as she fussed about her head. “You’ll bleed through and don’t have much to spare.”
Jessica considered this stranger with the flyaway halo of red hair. “What?”
“Blood.” The woman explained. “You don’t have much left. Took a sword to the face or something?” she asked, pointing to her own temple.
Jessica shook her head then winced as her face throbbed. “I don’t know.” Everything was foggy. She remembered getting mad and… “Oh!” She covered her mouth as memories flooded back. “Braum!” She turned, but he wasn’t there.
“The dwarf prince?”
“Yes.” Jessica swallowed convulsively then bit her cheek. Her head swam painfully, and she thought she might be sick.
Fortunately, the woman didn’t probe, as Jessica had no idea what she’d say, but helped her swallow some water. “You’ll need more fluids. Drink as much as you can manage,” she chided.
Jessica choked on a swallow but managed to gasp, “Are you a healer?”
The tiny woman nodded and removed the waterskin from Jessica’s lips. “Willow Lostchild,” she said, brushing a scarlet lock away from her freckled face.
“I’m Jessica. How’d you find me?”
Instead of answering the question, Willow narrowed her bright green eyes. “Tell me what happened.”
Jessica’s mind raced as she tried to recall. Slowly, she pieced together her story, though it was disjointed and confused, and she purposefully left out the part about Braum tricking her into marrying him. “We fought and he’s there, trapped,” she finished, hunching forward and running her hands through her hair.
“Prince Braum’s trapped in a magical landslide?” Willow asked, her tone incredulous as she tapped a finger to her lips.
Jessica nodded and pointed vaguely up the mountain slope. “He’s that way… I think.”
Anger bloomed as she remembered his betrayal. Soon, she’d no longer be human, no longer be herself. How could he do that to her? “And don’t expect me to feel bad about what happened because I don’t!” Her voice tightened, and she swallowed again. “Mostly.” God, how could she do that to him… whatever it was she’d done. Had she trapped him in those rocks forever? Could she really leave him there?
“You’re a healer.” She eyed Willow, grasping for a solution, grasping at straws. “Go to him. Make sure he’s okay.” She couldn’t go herself. There was no way she could face him after what he’d done. After what she’d done. Plus, what if she accidentally performed some strange magic, again?
The woods bristled, and poisonous toadstools sprouted where Jessica sat. But, the trees stretched apart to reveal a winding path through the woods.
CHAPTER 13
Braum watched the witch pick her way through the underbrush. Still far enough away, she’d yet to notice him.
“Here,” he called. Biceps bulging, he pushed against his prison but collapsed, weak from blood loss and pain. The weight of the stones crushed his chest, and he struggled to breathe, but as she might be his only chance for rescue he had to get her attention.
Not for the first time, Braum thought of Jessica and wondered where she was. Had she bled to death? If she lived, would she ever forgive him? Hell, would she even be herself after being possessed? His mind raced a dozen directions at once.
Gods! He’d known tricking her into marriage and forever losing her identity as a human had been wrong. But he’d feared losing her to the goddamned elf. And that fear was the very thing that had cost him his wife.
Fear coursed down his spine, but at the same time, fury burned with every beat of his heart. Yes, magic had taken over her mind and body, but did she have to bury him in a sodding rockslide? A stern tongue-lashing might’ve sufficed.
Still, he had to get out to have any hope of finding Jessica and fixing the rift between them. To do that, he had to summon the witch.
***
Don’t get involved, Willow scolded herself as she sidled through the thick brush. This isn’t your fight. There was a reason she’d been about to jump to Earth, after all.
But the intrigue of a magically possessed human was too much to pass up. Plus, there were too many unanswered questions. What did Jessica have to do with Braum the Merciless? Where had the woman gotten the magic? What could she gain from helping her? A
nd lastly, how far away was Braum, anyway?
She swiped an arm over her forehead and sucked in several haggard breaths before muttering, “Bloody uphill all the way.”
Though the river roared, she tilted her head at a faint noise and pushed through the last of the barberry bushes into a clearing. Eyes narrowed, she scanned the cliff face and the rockslide that wasn’t a rockslide. She jumped as a man’s face materialized amidst the rubble and raced forward. “Braum!”
The dwarf watched with deadened eyes as she approached. When he made to speak, she shook her head, her eyes shooting toward the wisps of magic floating about. The less marking she made here, the better. He nodded, seeming to understand.
Grateful for the buckskin breeches she always wore, she scrambled up the rocks and considered the situation. Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. She could do nothing to help this man. He lived—because the magic wanted him to—but was so thoroughly buried, a lone woman without tools had no hope of aiding him. Besides, she glanced sidelong at the magical pulses, she wasn’t sure she was willing to do anything, anyway.
Though only a few scrapes marred his handsome face, she sensed grievous wounds hidden beneath the stones. Once the magic wore off he would certainly die. No sense endangering herself for a dead man or risk angering whatever power lingered.
She turned to go but hesitated. “Damn it.”
All she wanted to do was leave, instead, she lifted her flask to his lips. As he gulped water, those golden eyes beseeched her for help. She sighed. If nothing else, she could give him a small charm to help another find him. And hopefully, they could excavate him safely.
With quick movements, she removed the knife from her belt and cut a long strand of hair from her head. First, she pulled the tress taught then tied it into a knot of guidance. Not having anywhere else to place it, she secured it to his golden braid, hoping this little bit of magic wouldn’t be too conspicuous.
Willow re-sheathed her knife and hurried away. She shivered, feeling his gaze follow until she slipped from view.