My Lord Raven (The Ravensmoor Saga)

by Tamela Quijas

  “Damn it all, Dante!” She shouted, ignoring the shocked gasps echoing echoed around her.

  “You may curse me, Kate, but you can't deny me.” His voice lifted with each stride and his words hauntingly seductive. “Shall I tell you of your dreams, my sweet Kate?”

  “Oh, for God's sake!” She snapped, although anxiety shot through her. “You sound like some over-melodramatic Shakespearean actor!”

  His brow lifted and the warmth of a familiar dimple appeared. Although one arm remained held to his chest, his other hand splayed the firm line of his hip, echoing the stance of his ancestor. “Thank you, my dear, for the truly delightful compliment.”

  She wanted to scream with frustration. “You know nothing of my dreams!”

  “Don't I?” He mocked and his lips curled as he shook his head. “I know nothing, Kate, although I occupy them?”

  “No!”

  “My love,” he studied her pale features, his hand falling to his side and his expression gentle. “You adore this dream, Kate. I know you love everything about it.”

  “No, I don't!”

  “In your dreams, you see this house and the lands surrounding it.” He took a deep breath before the deafening loudness of his tone dropped. “Tell me, have you been tormented by this dream your entire life, sweet Kate?”

  She swallowed, closing her eyes as she sunk the whiteness of her teeth into her lower lip. Slowly, she nodded.

  “Kate, until you arrived to Colinwood, you had always been alone in the dreams.”

  “Leave me alone!” She snapped, pressing the palms of her hands to her hot cheeks, realizing she was losing control of the situation.

  “Have I maddened you so, my sweet?” The whiskey smooth softness of his voice swirled about the room more effectively than his normal tones.

  “No.” She lowered her hands. Kate refused to look at him, her eyes remaining closed as images of her dream flickered behind her lids.

  “Look at me, sweet Kate, and tell me to my face,” he implored tenderly. “Can you not bear to look upon me, my sweet girl?”

  “How do you know?” Her eyes flew wide and tears streamed down her face. “I never told anyone!”

  The chiding amusement left his handsome features. “You deny the facts, even as they're placed before you?”

  “It's circumstantial evidence.” She protested faintly.

  “You're the echo of my soul, Ravensmoor that I am,” he rasped. “You're the very reason behind my existence, Kate.”

  “I'm nothing to you!”

  “You're everything.” His response was heartfelt. Dante took another step across the entryway, his good arm falling slackly to his side. “I suffer the same dreams, my darling, always of you, forever of you. I've spent decades questioning your existence and anxiously waiting for the night, when I could be at your side.”

  “I….”

  “Shall I tell you, Kate?” He wondered aloud and took yet another step, his image swimming. His deep tones dropped to a throaty whisper. “Shall I beg you not to deny me the image of your smile, my sweet girl? Shall I tell you I would lavish you with all the riches available in my world, shower you with everything I hold valued and beloved, if you'd grant me but one of your glorious smiles?”

  The words were spoken in the same gruff tone from her dreams. She shivered with the anguished questions, feeling the dream had become the present.

  “Shall I tell you how I'm unable to exist without you?” He persisted, his steps slow and unhurried as he continued towards her. “Shall I tell you how I have anticipated your return to Colinwood?”

  “I'm not Kaitlyn.”

  “Nor will I ever be Nathan. I'm nothing more than Dante, and you're my precious Kathleen. We are two entirely different individuals with one thing in common…our souls.” His fingers rose and touched his chest, settling in the region of his thudding heart. “It's your image haunting me. You are my Heaven and my Hell. You are my Kate.”

  “I'm not your Kate!” She contradicted hotly. She was spiraling into a chasm where he was the victor, where he knew of the true emotions within her heart.

  He snorted inelegantly. “Are you not?”

  “I'm not your Kate!” She repeated, but the words lacked conviction.

  “You suffer from the same dreams, Kate.” He continued, ignoring her protest. “The dreams don't occur while you occupy my bed, do they?”

  “Dante, please stop.” She pleaded desperately, blinking to clear the tears from her shimmering eyes.

  “Am I wrong, Kate?” He persisted harshly. Dante had traversed the length of the foyer and stood before her, his stance arrogant and unbending. Kate knew she would weaken with one more step and glanced away, her lips pursing into a fine line and her brows drawing together.

  “No, I haven't.” She admitted weakly.

  He detected the nameless emotions rushing across her face. Reassuringly, he reached out and she immediately recognized the action. She had seen him perform the same deed a million times before, in the gossamer images of her dreams, as he lifted the broad and calloused palm upright in mute supplication.

  “Am I really such an ogre, my darling little one?” He asked gently, the cobalt colored depths of his gaze enveloping her, the intense color wavering with the wealth of raw emotion welling from him. His heart was evident in the sparkling depths, and she knew his heart was as large as the Earl of Ravensmoor's frame. “Can you understand how long my soul has waited for you? My life has been filled with an ugliness I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, but I never hid the facts from you. You, Kate, are the only glory that has ever touched me. I would wish to live my every dream, for all eternity, at your side.” His hand rose to cup her cheek, the roughened pad of his thumb whisking the tears from her face. “An eternity wouldn't be enough, if I could win your love.” His heavy gaze was tender.

  “Dante…”

  “Tell me, Kate,” he murmured in a voice tight with emotion. “I would grant you the world for the smallest portion of your love.”

  “I don't want the world, Dante.” Kate clenched her eyes tightly shut, willing the streaming tears to halt. She bit at her lower lip, struggling as the words nearly burst forth from her. “I don't need anything.”

  “I do, Kate, I do. I need you.” His confessed. “I, Dante Burroughs, last Earl of Ravensmoor, need you. I’ve needed you every moment of my miserable life. You're my very breath, my pounding heart, and my soul. You rescued me from the darkness, on more than one occasion. You guided me when I felt all was forsaken.” Dante paused. He closed his eyes in an attempt to erase the tide of torment threatening to burst forth from within, knowing only Kate was capable of dealing the mortal blow that would shatter his heart. “I don't want the Raven's Lady. I want you to be my lady. Is it too much to ask you to love me?”

  “Oh, Dante,” she murmured his name on the whisper of a broken sigh. His hand remained on her cheek, his touch tender and warm.

  “My darling Kate,” he managed, his long lashes dropping over the brilliant color of his entrancing eyes. “If only you were capable of understanding what's in my heart.”

  “Tell me again, Dante.” She demanded, pressing her cheek into the welcoming warmth of his large hand.

  “I love you, Kathleen Bennett.” The words were simple and filled with emotion. “Love me, Kate. Love me as I love you, forever.”

  “My dearest Lord Raven,” she uttered the familiar words from her dream, her response watery. Her hands rested on his chest as she rose to the tips of her toes. Kate turned her tear streaked face upwards, her eyes shining. “I've always loved you.”

  Her response echoed about the entrance hall, resounding off the palatial height of the walls and filling the lengthy corridors. Each syllable grew in magnitude, the mansion appearing to take heed of the confession and inscribing the words into the ancient walls.

  Dante pressed his face to the softness of her hair and molded her pliant form to his heart, the salty flow of unmistakable moisture on his cheeks. For a
long moment, he remained silent, inhaling her comforting scent and counting his numerous blessings.

  “Sweet Kate,” Dante murmured the familiar endearment, lifting his head and staring deep into her eyes. He brushed the light pressure of his lips across her brow, down the tip of her nose and across the softness of her mouth. He paused, savoring the offered sweetness, the barbarous hammering of his heart merging with hers.

  She, his Kate, had returned. The fulfillment of the tale, told of the first Nathan, had traveled full circle. She had returned to Colinwood and had salvaged his damned soul.

  “My sweet, sweet Kate,” Dante cradled her close to his heart, dazzled by the wealth of love and adoration revealed in her ever-expressive gaze. His joyous laughter resounded throughout the halls of Colinwood Manor, just before he seized the honeyed sweetness of her lips in a possessive kiss.