Cold, unfeeling eyes touched his from the priestess. Her expression didn't waver. “Yes."
Her answer hit him in the gut like a stone had been dropped onto his belly. He watched as her gaze slid toward Genève who gave her the slightest nod. He was doomed no matter what he said. She had it out for him.
"Druid Tremain.” He heard the authoritative tone in the elder Druid's voice. He swallowed. His fate was sealed. “You have been cast out into darkness. And there is only one road for you to walk. From now until the end of time, no longer will the gods speak to you. You will be shunned from any sect and have no home to call your own. Any fire you settle at for too long, you will only bring pain to. As I say it, so it be. As will it, so it is."
The other Druids, his brothers, the only family he truly knew since he was a small boy, turned their backs on him as if he didn't even exist. Horror washed over him as he realized he had lost everything he had worked for. He would be branded a murderer and an exile for the rest of his days. There would be nowhere he could go for too long before the story of him would extend out about what he was. First, he had lost his wife, now he was losing his way of life. What more could be taken from him? He watched as Genève knelt down next to her daughter, slipped the ring from her daughter's finger, and then extended her hand out to him. He didn't take it at first, and then he took the ring and slid it onto his own pinky finger. It was just another blow to his heart that his wife could not be buried with the object he had given her on their wedding night.
"I will not have your filth tainting her when she stands before the Goddess to lead her to Summerland."
"Genève, I loved B—"
"You are nothing to me. You fooled her into thinking she loved you. All of you witness. I call upon my vengeance as it is my right as a woman, as a mother, as a former priestess. I call upon an ancient curse. Dark Mother, hear my pleas. This man has murdered the one thing which made his heart beat—"
What kind of a curse was she calling down on him? Not that he believed any of them at the moment. The gods did not curse people. Curses were just symbols, spells to manifest ill will towards others. He knew they were just as much a myth as Genève did. He knew the mysteries as well as she did. “Genève, stop this foolishness. Please, I just want to put my wife to rest."
She wasn't moved by his speech. “Morrigain, mother of death, hear my cry. Punish this man with darkness, cursed forever to fly the skies until summoned to right the wrongs of all mankind."
Tremain's eyes widened as he heard her words. She didn't actually think that old wives tale was real. Morrigain, the dark goddess of battle and death, was said to listen to the prayers of the scorned, betrayed, the forlorn, and the heartbroken. The Goddess was said to take those cursed into her flock of immortal Ravens. They became her warriors for all time, only being human on the three nights of the full moon. It was a centuries old tale he had heard at the knee of his mother. Did Genève really think it would work?
"Please ... I couldn't. You know I loved her. She was going to have my child."
No one listened. No one believed him. He had been tried and the Dark Goddess already summoned. Morrigain, their dark mother, ruler over the dead and fierce battle tempered goddess. No matter if he did not believe it, he felt something stirring in him. He looked up and instead of seeing the sun shining overhead all he saw was the silver moon. He squinted realizing everything around him was taking on a different and more distinct pattern as if his eyesight was getting sharper and his energy was changing.
"Hear me. Great Dark Mother, eternal watcher. Show him your justice. Let him know suffering for all time as my heart and soul now suffer."
"Please—” He cried again reaching out to the other villagers and his brother Druids, but they had turned their backs on him shunning him, cutting him off from their eternal bond. The silver energy grew white hot. He saw a flash of silver shoot down from the now full moon overhead as it had eclipsed the sun. The power hit his shoulder like a searing brand melting his flesh. He cried out, but the only sound which escaped his throat was the gravely squawk of a raven.
Tremain shook at the memory and gazed at the woman in front of him. It was pointless to relive the past, which was what he kept telling himself, but for the last few hours, he had been reliving those last hours of his true humanity over and over again, like a movie reel playing in his mind. “So I've been bidden to go back to my body. I didn't have a choice, I know, but when I'm back, I expect to bring you to a safe place so you can forget all about this like a good little mortal."
He watched as Linnea smiled and offered him her hand. “I don't bite. Promise."
He hesitated, but her soft smile turned his dead heart and he took it. Once their fingers touched, a spark of silver energy jumped between them. Tremain felt a whoosh of hot air and became heavy. His limbs were like stone, but finally he heard his racing heart and felt something weighty on his chest. When he opened his eyes, he saw Linnea passed out across him. Her form was limp with one hand clutching his. A flush of warmth spread through him, and he felt the stirring in his groin. He raised his other hand gently as to not rouse her. After a moment, he put it on the witch's head feeling the soft silkiness of her tresses. He searched the room and saw Caleb standing in the doorway staring at him. He curled his hand and took it from the top of her head. Linnea still didn't stir.
"My, my, the heartless Warrior has a heart.” His leader chuckled.
Tremain gave him a cold, deathly stare and tried to sit up, but he didn't want to disturb Linnea. After a moment, he realized she was not going to awaken. A bolt of panic seized him and he stared at Caleb. “Will she—"
He couldn't think of anything else to say. This woman had stirred his heart. Maybe Caleb was right. Maybe he did have a heart inside of him after all. No matter if he did, there was no way he would allow himself to love Linnea. She might has saved his life, but what was his life worth when he was still stuck inside of his feathered prison most of the month and he would not be able to give her the affection she would crave. He could already see the scene now. He would try to make love to her and suddenly black feathers would appear all over his body. He would shrink, and the forlorn cry coming from his lips would be that of a raven and not a human male. It was not fair for him to trap her in a relationship where neither of them could get the fulfillment they desired.
"Will she be okay? I don't know, Tremain. She risked her soul to bring you back to us without knowing the dangers. Without really knowing you. She loves you."
Tremain hung his head at the words his leader had uttered. In his soul, he knew he loved the witch too. It was hard for him to believe such a thing was possible since he had been loveless for so long. The Druid could not explain it, but from the first moment when she had walked into the apartment looking for Maili, he had known it. The Druid was unable to let himself admit it. He focused on their entwined hands and realized she was gripping his with all her strength, a lifeline back to reality. He knew the labyrinth his soul had walked in, but Linnea could lose her way in the maze. Horror filled him to think he had left her in such a cold, dark place where her body would live on, but her soul would face horror unimaginable. Who knew what else lingered in the shadows of the maze. Without thinking, he returned his free hand to her head.
"How do I get her back?"
"If you love her, call her name. She will hear it in the darkness."
Tremain nodded. A look of sadness and happiness flashed on his leader's face as he shut the door. Tremain's fingers absently wound through her hair. It was soft reminding him of spun copper. He brought their entwined hands to his lips, kissed hers and then placed it over his heart. He barely knew the woman who had saved him. Yet, it seemed he had known her forever. She had the same soft smile as his beloved wife, but she was so different than her. She was shy and not so headstrong, but underneath the shyness was a strength that Beatrice never possessed. As he closed his eyes, he sensed the unbridled power in her. Whatever her gifts were as a witch, they were
newly awakened and untried, which was why she had doubted her own power when he had suggested getting rid of the queen's assassins. He smiled at the times he had watched her even in Raven form. He hadn't found her attractive, but now he saw her with the eyes of a man. Deep inside of him, he knew he loved her even though he fought with the emotion, because there was no future in their relationship. For now, he could repay her in kind and save her from the darkness.
"Linnea,” he whispered.
His power spiraled between their joined hands and awakened inside of him. For the first time in a while, he felt light, like there was no obligation on him, even though he still had to find Maili. At least he knew where her necklace was. He closed his eyes after he didn't feel the witch stirring beneath him. He focused on her more, felt the link she had forged with him. She was stranded in the distance and did not know how to get back to herself. He felt her panic in the darkness as it was encompassing her and threatening to drive her crazy as the light was being extinguished from her world.
"Linnea,” he said with more authority. He felt her stop as she heard his call this time. “Come back to me, please. I—” He couldn't bring himself to say what he felt. She would have to know in her own way. He wasn't ready to admit it. He couldn't admit to himself how he felt. After a moment of hesitation, he felt her coming toward him, and he was able to open his eyes. When he did, it took her a moment to stir and open her eyes sleepily. She gave him a smile so wonderful, it made his heart melt.
Chapter Thirteen
Linnea looked up at Tremain through sleepy eyes and then smiled. It had been as black as midnight wherever she was after he had left her. She had tried to find her way back, but was not sure how to. Her searching seemed to go on for hours. It was fruitless because she was getting nowhere just running down turns and corridors where there was nothing. Not even a sound entered the voidless place she was after Tremain had left. Then she heard his voice. She had been so unsure because it was far off almost like hearing a second hand echo in a muffled world. But then she felt something tugging at her heart and she saw a light. The light was silver, and it called to her heart, to the very core of her being. She felt Tremain. Then she heard her name again as crisp as the ring of pure crystal as it vibrated all the way through her. She knew then it was him. He had come to bring her back. She followed her heart and latched onto him. When she opened her eyes, he was there staring down at her with a sad and yet excited expression. But no matter what it was, she wanted to know what was in those smoky eyes of his, what emotion, what kind of a soul was behind those alluring eyes.
She lifted her head and without a word pressed her lips to his. She had already tasted them once before. Now she wanted them all to herself. His lips were as soft as she remembered, and after a moment of initial shock, he returned her kiss with a hunger and intensity she knew burned inside of him. She had felt it when she had touched his soul. He shifted in the bed and rose up a little bringing her with him. Her fingers traced the sides of his stomach, tickling him as they moved on their own accord to clasp behind his neck. She felt him breathing heavy, and yet sensed he held back. From the bulge pressing against her stomach, she knew he was aroused. Her nipples were rock hard as they were smashed against his bare chest. Everything in her wanted him. His hands clasped behind her back, pulling her into him even more, crushing her against him, matching her body to his curve for delicious curve.
His tongue asked entrance to her mouth as it pressed against her lips. She graciously accepted the invitation and met it with her own. She drew in a breath and let a small moan escape between their dancing tongues, but it was then he shoved her away from him so she landed on the end of the bed.
"Linnea, I'm sorry. I can't. I—we—” He hung his head and couldn't bring himself to look at her.
There was something he wasn't telling her. Okay, there was a lot he was not telling her and a lot she didn't really understand yet, but she wanted to know. Didn't he know that? “Why, Tremain? Am I so horrible you can't stand to be with me?"
He ran a hand through his hair and then met her gaze. His dark eyes were troubled. His face was etched with hurt and something else. Why won't he let me know? Can't he see I only want to help him? Nothing else. I barely know him, but I love him and I think he feels the same way about me. If not, I'd never have made it back. The realization hit her. Something inside of him was so broken he was not allowing himself to feel anything.
"Linnea, you are more than anything I've every dreamed of in a long, long time. You don't know how long it's been. I want to tell you—but we just can't. If we do—if I do—No, I won't let you see me turn into—” He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them.
Her heart twisted at the sight as she watched him curl up on himself. The muscles in his powerful shoulders were twitching as he tried to hold in his emotions. Whatever it was he would turn into could not be as bad as seeing him hurting like he was now. His heart was bleeding, and her soul was answering the call. For whatever reasons, her powers had awakened. They were telling her she could help with the wounds of his heart and soul. Slowly she reached out her hand and touched the top of his head. He tried to shy away from her, but she was not going to let him do that.
"Tremain, I'm not running away because you think I can't handle whatever you might become. Are you some kind of a werewolf? Tremain, now tha—damn. I'm not afraid. Believe me when I tell you this."
He looked up at her, and she saw wetness on his long lashes. It softened her heart and made her want to take him into her arms and tell him it was all going to be all right. “You have no idea what I truly am."
"Then let me in. Show me what haunts you. I am not afraid of what you are or of your past."
He stared at her as she moved in closer, but he tried to get away again. She was not going to let him run and grabbed his wrist. “Please, Linnea.” He trembled underneath her.
"You're not a monster."
Tremain stared at her, and she saw the longing deep in his heart. She took his hand placing it on her cheek. It was soft and slightly calloused but it fit the bend of her jaw and it made her heart ache. “Please don't turn me away. You saved my life and my soul. I—"
He stared at her intently. “I know, Linnea."
"Then don't fight it."
She leaned in and met his lips. Her hands had a will of their own and moved over his chest and down to his pants where they ran over the bulge. Tremain uttered a moan this time. It rumbled from his chest and escaped his lips as a moan of pure ecstasy. She ran her lips down his neck. Her tongue laved over his flesh circling around his nipple feeling his rock hard chest. Finally he pulled away, and she waited to see if something would happen to him. He stared at Linnea as she waited for him to make up his mind as to what he was going to do, or what was going to happen to him, but nothing did. A look of wonderment appeared on his face.
"Tremain, what is it?” Linnea asked.
He stared deep into her eyes and then laughed as wetness leaked from his own dark eyes. “Caleb was right.” He pulled her into him again and his hands frantically sought to get her shirt off. Linnea laughed as his fingers grabbed the sides and ripped off a few of the buttons, leaving her exposed. After he did, he stopped and stared at his hands in astonishment. Linnea giggled at his expression as it was as joyous as a child getting an ice cream cone on a hot day. “I don't know what you did, but thank you."
Linnea pulled his hand to her exposed breasts. “Whatever I did. See, no monster.” Linnea's eyes slid closed as he fondled her nipples. It had been so long since anyone had touched her in this way that her body was instantly on fire. She wanted to pull off all of her clothes and throw herself at Tremain.
"Linnea, you're so beautiful, but—"
"Tremain, will you shut up already."
Linnea launched herself on top of him, knocking him back, and she straddled him. She was tired of waiting for him to stop acting like a giddy schoolboy leaving her hot and frustrated, with his cock pressing hard aga
inst the seam of his pants and rubbing on all her tender spots. Without waiting, she scooted herself a little farther up his chest so she was able to reach behind her and undo his zipper. Tremain's gaze held amusement. Linnea bit her lip wondering if he would stop her again, but he didn't. She unzipped his pants, and his hard, hot member sprang out into her palm, scorching her like a hot poker. The Warrior's eyes shut. His head fell back against the bed. Linnea leaned over so the tops of her breasts barely touched his chest, and he quaked underneath her as her grip on his cock hardened.
"You like this, Tremain? Is this what you wanted?” she breathed in his ear and nibbled the end of it.
"Yes,” came out of his throat as his back arched lifting her with him. He was strong, she liked that about him, and he was fearless. God, she wanted him so bad it was making her wet.
"Tell me what else you want, Tremain? Do you want me to fuck you?” she whispered in his other ear and stroked his throat with her tongue. Her hand tortured his staff, running up and down it slowly so he could squirm even more under her. His lids half opened, and he stared at her with smoky quartz-colored eyes.
"Linnea, please. I need you. Enough."
She bit him lightly on the neck, sucking his skin between her teeth. Tremain groaned and reached down to grab her wrists and pin them to his chest. He smiled devilishly and captured her lips with his own. The witch melted in his grasp letting herself surrender. His hands slipped off her shirt. Linnea heard it land on the floor as the buttons hit the wood. Next came her bra, which she was happy was a front fastened one. Tremain freed her breasts from it and weighed them in his hands.
Linnea surrendered herself to his insistent mouth as he nipped down her neck, circled her breasts with his tongue, and enclosed her nipple with in his mouth. Experienced fingers slithered over her belly to undo her jeans. A moan escaped her throat as he bit down on her nipple. Pulling her hands from his grip, she traced his shoulder blades and wound in his long hair. The feel of his tongue on her breast made the tingling between her legs develop into throbbing heat. If he continued to torture her, it would turn into a scorching blaze and burn her up from the inside. He released her nipple and licked his way down the center of her stomach.
A Conspiracy of Ravens: A Raven Saga Book 1 Page 13