Cursed by Diamonds (A Dance with Destiny Book 1)

by JK Ensley

  “Dear heavens. Jenevier, calm yourself, my love. Nothing can harm you here. Speak to me now. Squash this panic rising within me. Your eyes alone have failed in this purpose. Speak, Princess. Give voice to this madness, now.”

  The second Vanir rose from her side, but Vareilious held up his massive hand, halting the concerned warriors advance.

  “Open your eyes again, Jenevier. It is only me. I promise.”

  She numbly obeyed.

  “Tell me what runs wild within that beautiful little head of yours. Withhold nothing from me and I can fix it.” He tenderly smiled at her. “That’s what I do, Maiden.”

  “I cannot.”

  “You must, my love.”

  “I am not your love. I hate you, remember?”

  The glorious Guardian relaxed and released a long, sweetly scented breath. “There you are, Milady. I feared I had lost you for a moment there.” He gently kissed her forehead. “Now, tell me all I have asked of you.”

  “I fear.”

  “I am the master of fears, dearest one. That’s my job. I will crush them thoroughly. But you must speak them to me.”

  “Who is that other man?” Her voice trembled as a child’s. “Do you know him well?”

  The luminous Vanir looked over her head to the warrior standing still behind her.

  “Yes, my sweet. I know him extremely well. He is my brother, Varick. He is first born of Valadrog and captain among us. I have never known a more honorable, loyal warrior. He truly is the best of us all. You’ve never known pure angelic love until you have earned the heart of Varick. He is goodness incarnate.”

  “So… he’s the opposite of you, then?”

  Vareilious’s laughter shook his entire flawless form. “Yes, my future lover. He is precisely the opposite of me.”

  He winked at her. She ignored his little jabbing reference.

  “Has he always lived here?”

  “Yes, always.” Concern returned to his majestic brow. “Why do you ask, Princess?”

  “Then, tell me. How is it he has the very voice of my own conscience? How is his, the voice whispered within my sleeping dreams? How does he own the same treasured voice that answered me whenever I asked it of him?”

  Vareilious looked once again to his brother Vanir.

  “Explain to me how it is he has walked with me and talked with me the whole of my life. Tell me, Vareilious. Because, my poor mind simply refuses to accept the fact that my make-believe friend and inner guide is really a beautiful, silver-haired Angel living out here in the wilderness.”

  “And what makes you think he is beautiful? Hmm?” He chuckled softly. “You have yet to even look upon him.”

  “I am certain he looks like you, does he not?”

  “Oh, so you think I’m beautiful?” His voice softened to a tempting purr. “You like the look of me, hmm? Find me extremely attractive, do you?”

  “Yes, of course I do. You took my breath away when I crested the ridge and beheld you standing there in all your glory.” Her honest words simply rolled off her tongue without thought or hesitation. “You are perfection personified—magnificent beyond mortal words. I honestly thought you weren’t real. You are too glorious.”

  A warning growl rumbled in his chest and up his throat. The gorgeous sentinel took her still shaking hand and pressed it to him. Yet his mischievous gaze stayed locked with hers.

  “If I had but known how you truly felt, Princess. If I had but heard those most splendid of all words, I would have lingered upon our journey here.” He tenderly caressed her cheek. “Oh, Milady, I would still be licking the sweet taste of your divine innocence from my lips. You would yet be radiant with the glow that only a woman who has experienced pure ecstasy can hold.”

  He pressed himself against her then, running his tongue over those terrifyingly sharp teeth as he moaned with anticipated pleasure.

  Jenevier gasped and jerked free, falling backwards off the couch. Vareilious crawled toward her like a hungry beast, his mouth watering with the thought of consuming his prey. She quickly jumped to her feet.

  “Vile dog! I trusted you!”

  He fell onto his enormous side, laughing heartily. “You should have seen the look on your precious face,” he roared.

  Yet Jenevier couldn’t stop screaming at this most terrible of Angels. Her chest, rising and falling rapidly as her anger swelled.

  “You are a horrible, disgusting person, Vareilious! I confided in you. Dammit all. I poured out my soul to you. Spoke all that you asked of me and more.”

  “And, I did as I promised, my delicious little Princess. I fixed it, did I not?”

  She stopped yelling then and took a quick mental inventory. He was right. She immediately calmed with this realization.

  “Y-yes… my fears are tamed. But my questions remain.”

  “I only promised to crush your fears. Mission accomplished, tiny Angel.” His ever-present smirking smile widened. “And I received the added benefit of knowing you find me beautiful, attractive, desire me above all others.”

  “Of course you are beautiful. You…you all are. Wha-what human would think otherwise?” She furrowed her brow. “Yet, I never mentioned desire.”

  “Pretty is as pretty does, I’ve always heard said.” The tender voice was right behind her. “Or in this case I suppose you could say, beautiful is as beautiful does.”

  At the sound of that voice, Jenevier’s back stiffened as her eyes went wide.

  “And that is my cue to go.” Vareilious jumped to his feet and headed for the doorway. “Do not fear, dearest lover. I will return at our appointed time. We have a date, you and I.”

  The awesome giant winked and disappeared out the door.

  “He is an incredible warrior, Jenevier. He means no harm. It’s just his way.”

  “He makes my skin crawl,” she admitted.

  Varick laughed. “Yes, perhaps. But you will never find a more loyal friend or a fiercer protector. Vareilious has a heart of pure gold. You saw that in him just now. One day, when your training is complete, you will come to love him as I do. He will never be far from you now, little one. He already cares too much for you. From this day forth, he will be ever near. Take comfort in that reassuring thought.”

  “Actually, that particular thought is rather unnerving… makes me twitch.”

  His warm laugh came again as he cautiously placed his soft hands on the backs of her arms.

  “He is an acquired taste, yes. Alas, he grows on you. You will come to understand and appreciate his honed talents and rash demeanor, in time. Vareilious has heard so much about you, has waited anxiously for your arrival. He demanded to be the warrior posted at our gates. He was so angry when Valen was chosen to test you—threw a horrible fit. Just like a child.” Varick chuckled. “Vareilious said he wanted to be the first to look upon you—Valen was not worthy of such an honor. And I must say, Milady, he seems especially taken with you. In truth, I cannot recall ever seeing him act quite this way before.”

  “How is it you are real?”

  “Apologies, little one. Forgive me for that.”

  “Forgive you for being real?”

  He chuckled. “No. Forgive me for not training you before too many truths had been revealed. This isn’t a conversation we should be having yet. It is one for a very long time from now. This is my fault. I never realized you could…” He paused.

  She waited but he didn’t continue.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “And I know not how to make you. Not without harming you further.”

  “Please try,” she pleaded.

  “Will you look at me?”

  “I cannot. Not yet.”

  “May I touch you?”

  “…Yes.”

  When he gently began to caress her arms, she relaxed a little. Jenevier rolled her head from side to side as the bones popped and cracked in her tense neck.

  “I fear that is my doing as well,” he whispered.

  Varick tenderly
massaged her neck and shoulders until all the tightness and tension melted away.

  “Who are you?”

  “I am all the things you remember me to be.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

  “And I know not how to answer you, my sweet. Not without causing more harm than good. Tell me, fair maiden. What can I do to help this helpless situation?”

  She closed her eyes and smiled. “I could use a long hot bath and some time alone to think.”

  “Granted.”

  Chapter 43

  Alastyn

  (ah-LASS-tin)

  Willow rose to leave, but Alastyn held her arms.

  “Please let me go,” she whispered.

  “I should. I mean, I will. Just give me one more blissful moment with you.”

  His words tore at her fragile young heart. They meant something completely different to her than they did to him. To her, they meant hope—blissful, joyful, wonderful hope.

  “Why? We have been painfully honest with one another.” She pulled away. “You cannot return my feelings and I cannot bear your rejection.”

  “I didn’t reject you, Willow.”

  “Yes, Alastyn. That’s exactly what you did. Do not place the fault on your heart, no. It’s a great credit to your loyal devotion. Yet another endearing quality you possess.”

  “And yet…” He stood. “How devoted am I… if all I can do right now is try to think of a way to make you stay?”

  “Stay?” Her eyes widened slightly. “Out of love?”

  “No…” He paused, glancing away before turning back to face her. “It is out of my own selfish need for your tender comfort and enticing companionship.”

  “I’m no longer a big fan of brutal honesty,” she grumbled. “We can stop now.”

  They smiled in unison.

  “Willow, I cannot love you like I love Jenevier. It simply isn’t possible. But I truly am selfish enough to ask for your company on my quest to free her. I know that makes me a horrible person, yes.” He took her hands in his. “But it would be a lie to let you leave or to let you stay, thinking otherwise.”

  “And if we somehow miraculously find these mythical Elves and receive the precious answers you seek. What then?”

  “Then I will leave you, Willow. I will return to Jenevier with all haste. The very moment she is free of her curse, I will ask her to spend the rest of our blissful lives together.”

  Willow was literally nauseous. She could feel the offending cobbler rising up in the back of her throat. She swallowed hard, pulling her hands from his before trying to speak.

  “I did not think it possible,” she whispered softly. “But those words… they were much more painful spoken aloud than I ever could have imagined.”

  “Apologies, Willow.” He reached for her ponytail, but withdrew. “Yet… I will not lead you along, thinking I may ever be wholly yours.”

  “So, when we find your answers, you’ll just leave?”

  “Yes. I will return to her and you will never see me again.”

  “But this quest of yours, it may take a very long time. Months or years even.”

  “It may, yes. But time will not change my love for her.”

  “No.” She saw another flash of that teasing flicker of hope. “Yet…” She smiled sweetly. “…it may very well change your love for me.”

  “Do not give yourself false hope, beautiful lady. I will not agree with you just so you may find unrealistic comfort in the thought.”

  “Don’t sell me short, Alastyn. I can be rather charming at times.” She shrugged her shoulders and teasingly batted her lashes. “You may soon find you cannot live without me.”

  “I will always be Jenevier’s.”

  “One day, perhaps. But today and maybe for a very long time, you’ll be all mine.”

  She smiled happily, despite his constant refusal.

  “Only in friendship, Milady.”

  “I’ll take what I can get, for now.”

  “Do not decide hastily, Willow.”

  “I’m not. But be wary yourself, my very handsome friend. It is true, you know—friends always make the best lovers.”

  *****

  After many hugs and fond farewells, the newly found allies left Ousten and began their bitter cold journey to Haven. The trip couldn’t be made in a single day, so they set up camp a little over halfway there.

  The bitter wind was cutting Alastyn in two. Although he was not, the people of the North were accustomed to such things, so the provisions he had acquired in Ousten kept him from freezing to death.

  They camped at the base of an odd cliff, strangely out of place among the rolling hills and open plains. Their tent was pitched within a hollow grove and completely protected from the brutal wind. The thick fur blankets he bought would have proven more than adequate, but they were so large he ended up being able to pack only one.

  “I don’t mind if you don’t,” Willow whispered, teasingly.

  Alastyn laughed. “Worry not, Milady. I promise you’ll be completely safe with me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not exactly the promise I wanted to hear, you know.”

  “Yes, but it’s the only one I can give.”

  She smiled. “I know. Just checking.”

  They arrived in Haven before sunset the following day.

  Haven was much larger than the bustling town of Ousten, so finding room and board wasn’t going to be a problem. Alastyn left that part up to Willow while he began asking his strange questions to the friendly townsfolk. Almost every person he met knew many fanciful stories of the Elves. Alas, not one of them gave him the slightest clue of how to actually find the mythical Elven people, or even in which direction he should begin searching. Exhausted and disheartened, he sought out Willow.

  “Well I’ve made great progress,” she said, smiling happily.

  “Then at least one of us has,” he grumbled.

  “Oh, don’t be such a sour fellow. We only just got here. Now come. I have much to show you.”

  Alastyn let her tug him along as she cheerfully told him about their new accommodations and in which restaurants they could find the best local fare.

  “So, let’s go get cleaned up and get something to eat,” she chirped. “A full belly will ease your mind.”

  “Lead the way, Milady.”

  *****

  Day after day the companions sought answers, chased after phony leads, and continued to find nothing but dead ends and fairytales. Those days turned into months and the months quickly turned into years. Still, not a trace of the Elven folk could be found.

  Willow had given up long ago, but she stayed loyal to Alastyn’s quest. As long as he held out hope, she was there for him just as she had promised. Through thick or thin, she never left his side.

  Alastyn refused to concede defeat. His memory of Jenevier’s lovely face had long since faded with the passing of time, but his love remained untouched, even after all these many years.

  The two explorers were on their way back from yet another failed lead. This one had taken them deep into the eastern forest of Mangladune. They were still weeks from home and chatting merrily as they walked along.

  After the first couple of years, Willow had returned to Ousten to help her mother run the Fuzzy Muzzle. Alastyn continued the investigative part and came for her every time he found a new lead. She would happily drop everything and leave with him, supporting him on all those many lonely, unanswered trips back home.

  “It’s been nearly ten years, Alastyn. I have grown old right along with your explorations.”

  “Willow, you’re even more beautiful today than you were the first night I walked into your cozy little inn. Floria is now a mirror image of my first memory of you.”

  “But I’m more beautiful than she, right?”

  Alastyn smiled. “Of course, my love. She will never be able to surpass your grace and beauty.”

  They laughed together as they trudged through the dense und
ergrowth of Mangladune.

  “But she does have many more suitors than I.” Willow’s cheeks flushed red with her admission.

  “Yes. And why is that? I’ve never understood why you weren’t snatched away from me years ago. In truth, I secretly fear every time I return to Ousten, I will find you happily wed.”

  “You fear that, do you?” She glanced at his smiling profile.

  “Of course I do, Willow. I would never have survived or tried this long without you by my side. I would have lost hope years ago.”

  His casual admittance rocked her heart and tore a small chunk out of her soul. She had to swallow hard before she could speak again.

  “So… all I had to do was refuse to follow you around on these wild, desperate searches. Is that it? Are you saying you would have given up on her? Is that what I’m hearing you say, Alastyn? That you would have abandoned your ridiculous quest and settled down?”

  He brushed a wisp of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. His gentle touch made her heart tremble.

  “No, Willow, I could never give up on Jenevier. I would have given up on the Elves.”

  Willow turned her back to him, trying to demand her bitter tears to cease their increasing flow.

  “Alastyn… I have given you the most glorious years of my life. This I have done in the hopes that if I walked beside you long enough, one day you would wake up and finally see me standing there.” She sniffed. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame you for my misguided intentions. I chose to be with you… knowing full well where your heart truly lay. You never lied to me about the truth of your heart. Not once. I blame only myself… for being such a foolish child.”

  “Willow, please. Don’t do this.”

  Alastyn tried to comfort her, but she pulled away and continued with the words she had wanted to say for so very long.

  “I know now—as I should have known years ago—this whole thing has nothing to do with you or me anymore.”

  “But, Willo—”

  “We’re chasing ghosts and dreams, Alastyn. How can I ever compete with a memory? Memories change with time. And your sacred memory of Jenevier has grown to reach Elven heights, so to speak. She will never measure up. You know that, do you not? Jenevier will never be able to live up to what you have made her out to be in your mind. She is doomed to let you down. And, well… I am dense for helping you continue in this madness.”