by Kyra Jacobs
She took a drink from their crude buckskin water canister, then gathered her skirts and moved a short distance off from the raucous crowd. The edge of the stream zigzagged through the foliage, and Addie walked along its pebbled banks, finding solace in the low murmur of the water’s travels. The sun struggled to reach the ground here, and a chill washed over her.
Then again, she’d felt chilled since the moment she’d dismounted and left Zayne’s arms. The man certainly was a bit of a furnace. Maybe he is part dragon…
Addie shook her head. She’d played along with the charade today, had kept her face neutral when he spoke of the whole dragon-blood thing. But of course that wasn’t possible—there were no such things as dragons. Surely she’d been hallucinating yesterday. They’d crossed paths, she’d looked into those unusual golden eyes of his, and her mind had built him up to Hollywood proportions. Probably just a mixture of dehydration and jetlag was all.
Dehydration and jetlag. Yep, that had to have been it.
She rubbed at her arms to ward off goose bumps and cast a brief glance back at the group of warriors. All were rugged and muscular, but none as stunningly handsome as their lord. Nor did any seem to care that she was no longer in their midst.
Funny, she thought. They’d looked like a group of hungry hounds when she’d first stepped out of the manor house this morning. Then again, that was before Zayne had lifted her onto his horse. Had that been a signal to the others, him staking his claim on her?
A thrill rushed through Addie, chasing away the cold. It was one thing to be in his arms, pressed against his fully clothed body. To be warm, protected. But what would his bare skin feel like against hers? Would his touch be warmer still? And while he’d been quite the gentleman on the first leg of their trip, there was something about the way he’d looked at her last night, the way his eyes had mysteriously glowed, that made her feel more like his prey, his conquest, than a guest. In passion, which side of him took control: the man, or this supposed beast within?
Curiosity drew her gaze to Zayne, and she was surprised to find him staring at her. Embarrassed for being caught in such a conspiratorial line of thinking, she quickly looked away. He was a prince, an heir to the throne of an entire kingdom. She was a nobody from Indiana. There wouldn’t be any bedroom encounters, no testing those theories.
Though no one said she couldn’t revisit the fantasy once she was back home. Alone.
Home.
Addie closed her eyes and tried to picture it, but the only image that came to mind was the one she worked so hard to forget. The house where she’d grown up, her tiny, second-story room. Her desk, scattered with charcoal pencils and watercolor chalks. Her sketch pads. Her camera. The sound of her good-for-nothing father, snoring in his worn recliner the level below…
“Forgive me for intruding on your moment of solitude, my lady, but there are questions I must ask of you before we reach the wall. May I?”
With a start, she opened her eyes. Zayne stood before her, his hand open toward the space beside her. As much as she wanted to protect her heart, she found it impossible to turn away her lone ally. “I don’t know about forgiving you, but seeing as you’ve already killed my quiet, you might as well go on and ask me your questions. Sire.”
He looked down in attempt to hide his smirk and eased onto the log beside her. “Very well, then. How much contact did you have with the people of Forath prior to my arrival on Friday?”
“I already told you, I didn’t see or talk to anyone. I was out on a jog, trying to clear my head before work tomorrow, well, today, when this car came right for me and I dove off the road to keep from getting hit.” She shook her head. “God, I hope they let me reschedule this shoot.”
“But, my lady, how did you get so deep into their lands without the aid of another?”
“Are you saying you don’t think I can take care of myself out here?”
He leveled her a flat look. “So says the woman I found in a clearing about to be torn limb from limb by a pack of wolves, trying to fend them off with nothing but magic as she hobbled on one foot.”
“Magic?” Addie rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t magic, it was a can of pepper spray. You can buy it from any convenience store back home. And I’ll have you know it was working quite well until I ran out.”
“That would explain why the wolves were milling around the other side of the clearing. Tell me, how long were you in the woods prior to my arrival?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Impossible.”
Addie threw her hands up. “That’s what I keep telling you all, but no one’s listening. I have no idea how I got there, but suddenly there I was!”
Zayne stood and began pacing along the stream’s edge, hands clasped behind his back. “There has to be a logical explanation for all this. Have you any memory prior to being trapped by the wolves? Perhaps the fright caused some sort of amnesia?”
“No way, I remember everything leading up to that car coming at me. My name’s Adelaide Miller, I grew up in Fort Wayne, Indiana, where I graduated from Carroll High School. My mailing address is 8725 Spring Forest Drive, which is actually my cousin’s place, and one I’m seldom at as I spend most of my time traveling from job to paying job. My last gig before this one was in Des Moines, Iowa, shooting for a local—”
“Enough,” he barked and stopped to rub his temples.
This was the first he’d been short-tempered with her since their spat last night, and it definitely wasn’t her favorite side of the prince. She peered around him at the rest of the group, who were all a short distance off. Only Brom seemed to be paying them any attention. He scowled as her gaze caught his and looked away. With a sigh, Addie rose to her feet and came to stand before the prince.
“I’m sorry I don’t have the answers you’d hoped for, but I am telling you the truth. You have to believe me.”
Zayne regarded her in silence, his topaz gaze scrutinizing. After a moment, he raised a hand to cup her cheek. Addie felt her body come alive at his touch, so much softer than any of the contact they’d shared thus far.
“I wish to believe you, my lady.” His thumb brushed against her cheek. “But this matter is larger than you or I. My entire kingdom could be at stake from my actions yesterday.”
“You saved my life. I…I would be dead if it weren’t for you.”
Zayne lowered his hand and took a step back. “But the people of Forath did not witness that act. Merely me, making off with one they believe to be their own.”
“Isn’t that a bit ridiculous, them jumping to conclusions like that? I mean, it’s not like you go around plucking women from their villages all the time or anything.”
Zayne’s gaze shifted from hers. “Nevertheless, I have sent word of your pending return to King Jarin. Once our caravan reaches their border, we shall part ways. I have ordered Brom, Sol, and Korey to escort you to the village closest to where I found you.”
“Do you think someone there knows how to me get back to Watford?”
“That is my hope.”
She stepped forward and embraced him, her vision beginning to blur. “Thank you. I—I don’t know how I can possibly repay you for all you’ve done for me.”
His arms, initially stiff with surprise, slowly encircled her as well.
“Your company is more than enough.” He lowered his chin to rest it atop her head.
She snorted. “I think you’re getting the short end of the stick on that deal, but if you get me back to Watford in one piece, I’ll be sure to set the record straight to the people of Forath. Maybe then your rivals will stop clamoring for war.”
“I appreciate your most noble offer, my lady.” Zayne released her and turned away. “However, there is but one way to secure peace in our land, and it is something only I can do.”
Addie touched his arm. “You…you aren’t going to sacrifice yourself to them or anything, are you?”
At that, the prince b
arked a harsh laugh and walked off, leaving her once again confused and alone. She watched him go, skirting his group of men to disappear into the woods behind them. As she drew her gaze back, it rested momentarily on Brom’s. Instead of his usual deeply etched scowl, the scary bear of a man was looking at the prince with eyes of…something. Pity, maybe? His gaze flashed to hers then, and his infamous scowl—though a bit less harsh, this time—returned.
With a sigh, Addie shifted her gaze back to the stream, not understanding anything going on around her and for the hundredth time praying that tomorrow she would wake in her hotel bed to find this had been nothing more than some crazy, mixed-up nightmare.
Chapter Eight
Queen Helena tended to her needlework in the sitting room, stopping occasionally to sip the tea Thomasina had fetched her. The liquid had long since cooled, but the queen had more important matters to consider than the temperature of her afternoon tea. Thomasina tended to hover at Helena’s side. And as there was a conversation in the king’s adjacent chambers she wished to hear, the queen had sent her handmaiden away.
The girl simply breathed much too loudly.
“I send my deepest apologies for any cause of alarm my appearance yesterday may have caused in the Kingdom of Forath. While I was indeed on their lands—you, yourself, would agree they have the best selection of game in their forests—I heard the girl scream repeatedly for help. As her cries thwarted my hunt, I decided to try to deduce her situation. Eventually, I found her in a clearing, surrounded by a pack of wolves—”
“Pack of wolves my ass,” her husband grumbled.
The queen looked up from her menial task and threw the wall between them a dark look.
“Shall I…continue, Your Majesty?” his squire asked.
“Yes, yes. Carry on.”
“Very well, sire.” He cleared his throat. “As I had neither enough arrows nor enough time to take out the entire pack before they ripped her to bits, I transformed and lifted her from their reach. I implore you, Father, to believe me when I say my actions were not out of lust, but out of pity. Unfortunately, one of King Jarin’s sentries was nearby and misinterpreted my actions. One of his arrows found my ribs, but Emeline safely removed the weapon once we returned to the cottage.”
Helena put a hand over her mouth to silence a gasp. Why would Jarin’s men have shot at her son? Everyone in the lands near and far, from royals to peasants, knew he was the last remaining golden dragon. Did it mean nothing to them that Zayne was arranged to wed Jarin’s daughter?
“Serves the blasted idiot right,” King Robert snarled. “What did he expect, showing himself behind their wall? Damned fool should have left the girl to die rather than jeopardize our entire kingdom.”
“Indeed.” The squire cleared his throat once more, then continued with his reading. “As soon as I received word from Edana that my appearance had been seen as a threat by the royal Forathian army, I made ready my men and horses. We ride with the girl today to our border, where several of my men will request permission to continue onto Forath’s soil and return the estranged maiden to her family. Upon sending this scroll, I will also pen a message to King Jarin, offering my humblest apologies and asking his forgiveness in the matter. In that scroll I will also pledge to hold true to my arranged marriage to Rosalind and set the date for one fortnight from today, as a testament to my sincerity in wishing to maintain peace between our lands.”
The queen’s needlepoint slipped from her hands. “No.”
“About damned time,” her husband said in the next room, satisfaction in his voice. “I would have threatened to imprison him in the dungeon months ago had I known how swift the results would be. Was there more?”
“Yes, sire. His letter goes on to say that once the girl and a small band of his men pass through the gates of Forath, he and the rest of his soldiers will turn west and ride without stopping until they have returned here, to the castle.”
“Excellent. Once Zayne returns, we shall see how sincere he is about his intentions to right his recent wrongs.”
Helena heard a grunt and pictured him rising from a seat in his chamber.
“I have half a mind to send him to the dungeon still.” The king’s voice faded as footsteps sounded in the next room. “To keep him out of trouble…or from changing his mind.”
The king and his squire shared a chuckle, then the king’s chamber fell silent.
It is done…
Helena gathered her needlework in shaky hands and looked out the room’s wide window to the courtyard below. She had to find a way to speak with Zayne upon his return, alone, without another soul around. It was imperative she be able to watch his face, uninhibited by the deprecation of his father when she asked about this girl in the woods.
She had to know if the scroll’s message was true…and whether or not to prepare for the battles which may lie ahead for them all if it were.
Chapter Nine
The last leg of the ride was, as the prince had anticipated, plagued by an increasing level of torture. Not because he and his guest were weary or unamicable—far from it. Addie had grown steadily more talkative, as though the thought she’d soon be home had freed her tongue. Zayne savored her every word, memorized her beautiful face’s every expression.
It was impossible not to, as he found her completely and utterly fascinating.
Her musical ramblings made the prince all the more aware of his growing fondness toward the woodland nymph…and how utterly impossible it would be for them to remain together. She had a world so very unlike his waiting for her, a world he neither understood nor would ever come to know. Zayne had a throne to inherit, a kingdom to one day rule, and an arranged marriage to be consecrated if peace were ever to be truly considered between the peoples of Edana and Forath.
Ah, Fate—how cruel a mistress she had become.
“What about your parents. Are they nice or tyrannical? And what was it like growing up as a prince?”
With a chuckle, Zayne shifted his gaze from the road ahead to Addie’s face, which was turned to cast him a glance over her shoulder. “You have become a little bird, hungry for knowledge and chirping tirelessly until I feed it to you.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
A pout formed on her perfect lips, and the urge to press his mouth to hers surged within him again, as it had so many times since he first laid eyes upon the fair maiden. Again, he resisted. She was his traveling partner, nothing more. It must remain as such.
“No, dear Addie. Just an unusual thing. Most people with whom I converse seem to know more about myself than I do.”
“So you let rumors and legends define you, then?” Her brow cocked.
“Sometimes,” he admitted with a smirk. No other peasant in his kingdom had ever spoken to him so boldly. In fact, such a manner could easily land a person in Edana’s deep, dark dungeon. But Zayne found Addie’s curiosity and unending questions to be a breath of fresh air amid his stale, scripted life.
“Not me.” She crossed her arms as she shifted her gaze to the passing landscape. The horses had slowed to a walk again on the increasingly uneven terrain. “Though, that may be because I don’t stay in one place long enough to allow rumors to start.”
“And what say your parents about that?”
“We weren’t talking about my parents, we were talking about yours.” Color crept across her neck. “So? What are they like?”
“Hmm. How best to describe my parents… Well, my mother is an angel. My father, the bloody devil himself.”
“Ouch,” said Addie with a grimace. “That must be tough.”
“It could be worse. I could have been born to a pair of poor peasants.”
“I’d take a poor, loving family over a throne any day.” She paused, then tipped her chin in his direction once more. “Can I ask you something?”
“’Twould be a surprise if you did not,” he said with a laugh.
“Who is Rosalind?”
The question was as un
expected as it was unwanted, and Zayne felt the smile slip quickly from his lips. “Princess Rosalind is the daughter of King Jarin. Why do you ask?”
Addie’s shoulder lifted and fell. “I remember Emeline saying something about her when you two were checking on me last night.”
“When you were pretending to be asleep.” He frowned.
“Yeah.” She shifted in her seat. “So, are you two…close?”
“Not particularly.”
Before he was asked for further details, the men leading their caravan slowed to a stop at the crest of a small hill up ahead. Zayne pulled back on his steed’s reins as they drew beside the others. Several hundred yards ahead lay Forath’s grand iron gate, the lone break in a massive stone wall stretching from north to south as far as the eye could see. Beyond the wall stood a dense forest, its foliage a curtain of varied greens. A thick, perpetual fog masked any view of the vast foothills and rocky terrain standing between the wall and Forath’s castle.
Addie leaned away from the view and pressed uncomfortably into Zayne’s still-healing wound. He didn’t complain, for it was a far less painful experience than what he was about to endure.
Korey turned in his saddle. “Shall I announce our arrival, sire?”
“Announce our arrival?” Addie whispered.
“’Tis customary to sound the horn before approaching Forath’s gate,” said Zayne. “If they grant us permission to approach, their guard will sound the horn back.”
He looked to Korey, one of his youngest but most trusted warriors. The boy was hardly a day over seventeen, but his body was massive and the beast within him strong. In every skirmish, every battle, Korey had fought valiantly and without hesitation. Never did he question the prince’s orders. As such, he’d be one of the three to continue into Forath and escort Addie back to the village near where she was found.
Zayne felt the knife of loss prick at his heart as he gave Korey a solemn nod. “Sound the horn.”