“You’re not bad…” Although for a moment, I started to understand the nickname, sometimes his eyes did look dark and devious, but I refused to believe that he really was. I tilted my head to the side giving him a small smile, pleased that the darkness faded into a brighter green as he smiled back.
He laughed. “She would not agree with you.” He pointed a playful finger at me, raising his brow as he did so. “Trouble was always by my side. It drove her and my father to madness.” He looked up towards the cloudy sky. “My father was not around often, could not endure being near me or at least that is what my mother told me.” He frowned looking far into the distance, biting his thumbnail. “Although, she was not so pleasant herself.”
I pictured a lonely green-eyed boy, and my heart plummeted, but even with the wine, I still didn’t feel brave enough to reach out to touch him. He was unpredictable, and although he was lighthearted right now—clearly from the beer— most of the time he was either brooding and irritable or mischievous like he was about to play some wicked trick.
He shook his head and looked back at me, and much to my surprise, his eyes still looked playful. “The name just stuck; it fits me,” he said with a shrug.
“Surely, she didn’t really think you were devious…” I twisted a strand of my long hair around my finger trying to keep the conversation light, but desperately wanting more information.
He grinned devilishly crossing his arms. “She surely made it seem that way.”
I smiled back at him. “What could you have possibly done to make someone think that?”
The smile dropped, and he turned back to look at the horses before leaning his forearms against the post again, and I felt nervous that I had ruined his mood by asking too much.
“They’re beautiful,” I said, changing the subject as I stared at the valiant horses in the moonlight. He kept his eyes forward, but his lips curled upwards.
“I use to wish to be one of them.” He flicked his hand towards a black stallion. “I dreamed about running, never having to stop until I wanted to. But then one day I realized they were just as trapped as I was, if not more. I despised it, so one night…” his voice changed into a suspenseful tone, “I snuck into the stables and freed them all, whipped them as hard as I could, so they would run and never turn back.” He stood up tall and made a whipping motion with his hand. “I thought I was noble for that.” He raised an eyebrow at me before looking off again, biting on his thumbnail again. “My father’s men found two of them torn to pieces by some wild animal.” He lowered his gaze and kicked a lump of grass with his boot. “My father made me pay for that,” he whispered, wincing. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was what he had meant about terrible fathers, but then he glanced up, looking slightly embarrassed. “He left shortly after and my mother blamed me. I suppose that time it was truly was my fault. It was the last time I ever saw him.”
I wrinkled my brow. “Why? What happened?”
He bit his lower lip and looked straight ahead. “He was killed in some dispute.” He shrugged his shoulders and began picking at the wood chips on the fence post. “It was all my mother could handle; she hates me for that. The only good thing that arose was she let Merlin take me to Tewdrig’s for fostering, and that is where I met Bedivere, Kay, and Arthur.” He tried to keep his voice light, but even from the side his eyes gave away the sorrow.
“I’m sorry,” I said, filled with pity, suddenly understanding why the conversation of home at upset him. He looked at my expression and suddenly his features hardened.
“Do not be, I hardly remember it,” he said darkly, looking regretful.
“It wasn’t your fault about your father,” I added, not sure the sudden change in his expression.
He’s eyes flashed, the playfulness gone. “Of course it was, if I had not made him leave, he never would have been in that situation.”
I thought for a moment, trying to be careful with my words. “My grandpa use to tell me that you don’t have to know where you came from to know where you are going. You only need to know where you are.” I looked at his puzzled face. “What I mean is there are hundreds of ways to end up in the same place. Numerous situations could have brought your father to that situation. You were only a child; you can’t blame yourself.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, thinking on the words but then he shook his head, looking back down. “Where you come from matters for everything.” He sighed. “You just do not see me clearly, Katarina.”
I shook my head, thinking of him saving me from the dragon and the troll and his adorable persona. I saw him clearly, just not wholly. I believed he was egotistical and most certainly self-centered, but I was becoming convinced that part of his callous façade was a show, a daunting shield to hide behind; he covered his pieces well. “Maybe you don’t see yourself clearly…”
He looked up at me and half-smiled, obviously not wanting to ruin his good mood with an argument, and I was glad. “I do not see anything clearly tonight,” he joked. “No more of me.” He waved his hand officiously. “What about you? Any childhood names?”
“Just Kate… but it doesn’t mean anything.” I laughed.
“So Kate, but not Kat.” His lips twisted upward.
I wrinkled my nose. “I hate Kat.”
He gave a belly deep laugh at my expression, and I loved the sound. “Cats, devilish little creatures are they not?” He wrinkled his nose back at me. “I despise them.”
I smiled, finding him hopelessly adorable; it wasn’t fair.
“But you clearly love dogs.” He pointed at me matter-of-factly, smile tugging on his lips.
“Yes… even mangy, broken ones,” I teased.
He chuckled. “That I will never understand.” He shook his head, pushing his palm across his eyebrow. “A useless, disobedient, insignificant dog is not worth loving,” he murmured quietly.
“Dogs are the best.” I leaned my elbows on the wooden post, cupping my chin with my hands as I watched the horses. “They’re loyal and love you no matter what you do, even the disobedient ones. People can learn a lot from dogs, you know,” I continued to ramble. “If people were as loyal, protective, and comforting as dogs, the world would be a better place.”
His eyes went wide, and as his mouth twitched with amusement, probably debating on whether he should laugh at me or not, I realized I had said far too much.
I blushed, damn wine. I covered my face with my hands, taking a small peek at him from the corner of my eye. He appeared to take mercy on me because instead of laughing at my ridiculousness, he only smiled and nodded. Then he looked back up to the clouds that finally rolled past, clearing the beautiful sky. He was suddenly energetic, and I was thankful for the distraction.
“This is what I wanted to show you.” He pointed excitedly at the stars lining the sky. “See that cluster there?”
I squinted, unsure of which cluster he meant. The sky was filled with them.
He stood behind me, directing my head to the spot he was talking about. “Right there, you see?”
I nodded, realizing I had been holding my breath at the closeness of his body.
He stayed behind me and quietly spoke his beautiful melody in my ear. “My father use to tell me that is the spot where great warriors reside. They are off from the northern star because it is not their responsibility to lead but to protect. He said a protector actually has a greater purpose than the leader because without the protectors, the leaders would perish.” I could feel him sigh and imagined his brilliant green eyes staring up into the night sky, but I was too afraid to turn around; I was afraid of ruining this moment.
“I think your father was right,” I whispered.
He laughed. “I think that might have been the one thing he was right about. I grew up believing him, and when Arthur pulled the sword, for the first time I knew what I was meant for. It is my responsibility to protect him, and I do not even care if I get a place in the stars; I just want him to be safe.” He moved to my side, leanin
g on the fence again, resting his chin on his forearms as he kept his eyes up to the sky. “He is going to do great things. He already has.” He looked at me seriously. “Britain is going to turn around just because of him.”
I smiled. “But most importantly because of his protectors.”
He gave me a small half-smile; it was almost shy-like, very uncharacteristic from his usual arrogant demeanor. “Mostly because of him, but I suppose Gawain, Lance, Kay, and Bedivere help contribute.”
“And the little raven prince,” I teased, feeling brave by his good mood.
He grinned, standing straight. “Little huh?’ He looked down at his body. “I always thought myself big.”
I cocked my head to the side pretending to look him over. “Hmmm, I think Gawain almost took you…”
He laughed. “Well, he is half troll.”
I laughed louder than I wanted, but I couldn’t help thinking of the huge troll and Gawain being related. He carelessly chuckled with me, and for a moment I lost myself as I watched the emeralds twinkle brighter than the stars in the night. I had already been aware of the nonsensical lure I had to guard him, along with the outlandish obsession to solve the ambiguity of what was him, and I had even become mindful that I was a hopeless victim to being utterly attracted to him—after all, not even a blind person would be immune to his beauty—but there was something in this moment that caused me to lose the reason that had kept my feet grounded to the floor. It was as though I finally found my breath, and my lungs filled with air, elating me from the ground as this unexpected blithely persona penetrated past my skin and moved into the depths of my soul finding its home at the center of my heart, and all the love that currently resided in me shifted over to make a place to hold him. I knew after this I would never be the same. I had dangerously fallen, helplessly enchanted with his charm.
“You definitely belong in the stars,” I murmured, glancing at the beautiful creature beside me.
His eyes became intense, searching mine as though to see if I really believed it to be true. I straightened to face him, not faltering as he moved in closer to me and though my heart was failing, I kept my eyes focused on his wanting him to know I meant it.
He leaned in close enough for me to feel the warmth of his skin, gently putting his hand behind my head as he cupped the back of my neck, eyes still searching mine. “No… I really do not,” he muttered.
Then more forcefully, he pulled me in to meet his soft full lips. My whole body melted into the kiss as he leaned down on me, and every fiber in my body was on fire, burning with longing. I had never been with anyone before; my body had never responded to any touch with such fervor. I was ignorant in all the ways of being with a man, but all I knew was I wanted more. I wanted it so bad that my whole body ached for it. I was a wildfire and he was my fuel. I stood on my tiptoes, pushing deeper into his kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck, running my hands through his short black hair, unable to get enough of him. His hands started moving slowly but firmly tracing the curves of my body and each touch set a new flame to my nerves.
“I like this dress,” he murmured into my lips, keeping them moving on mine, as he carefully pushed me down into a large pile of hay. He rolled so that his upper body was hovering over me, hands continuing to outline my body, but it wasn’t enough; all of him forever would not be enough.
He moved his lips to the corner of my mouth, tiptoeing across my jaw line with kisses finding the lobe of my ear, sending an agonizingly enjoyable tingling sensation throughout me. I felt his hands start to go south, slowly lifting up my dress. I gripped the back of his head, willing him to go further… but then he stopped. He pulled away abruptly, dark curtains sliding across the green jewels. No, no I wanted to beg. It was physically painful.
He turned away from me, pushing his hand to his head and gripping a chunk of his hair, as his elbows rested on his knees. He was taking deep breaths, no longer touching me at all, and I couldn’t help but feel like a child who had waited all year for Christmas presents only to find Santa had left none. I had to fight back the tears of disappointment and the whining that I could feel coming on, almost like a temper-tantrum. I didn’t even care how he felt about me at the moment; I just didn’t want it to end. I felt miserable and rejected. I finally sat up, feeling dizzy.
“Sorry,” he rasped finally, keeping his eyes down to the ground. His hand still clutched to the curl.
“For what?” I choked out, grasping a chunk of my silk dress into my hand.
“For trying to take your maidenhood like this.” He flung his hand towards the horse hay almost disgusted.
“Take my maidenhood?” I asked surprised. Was that what he meant to do? I thought there were steps, things you did first before you got there. I widened my eyes; it wasn’t what I had thought I meant by wanting him, but I suddenly realized if he hadn’t stopped there was a good chance I might not have been strong enough to either, and as the distance cleared the fizzling smoke in my head, I started finding myself thankful that he had.
He looked back at me, knitting his eyebrows together. “You are a maiden, are you not?”
“Yes,” I said, surprised at the question. His eyebrows loosened, as his face twisted up into a funny look. “Does it matter?” I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious about it.
He cocked his head and thought a moment, letting a sly smile curl up on the right side of his face. “I like it very much that you are.”
The words sent relief flooding through me and more than ever I was glad I had waited. “Are you?” I blurted out, hoping that maybe I had misunderstood Kay’s words and the glances he shared with Gawain, after all neither of them had actually said it; I had only assumed.
He bellowed out a laugh and green jewels sparkled in his eyes. “I am most certainly not a maiden.”
I blushed. “You know what I meant.”
The emeralds danced, looking rather entertained as he watched my face for a moment, but then as quick as a flash, the smile fell to a scowl, and he dropped his head in his hands, gripping his hair so tightly on both sides I could see the white of his knuckles even in the moonlight. Finally, he lifted his head, eyes to coal, muscles in his jaw flexed. “Of course I am not,” he muttered angrily, rising to his feet, and it wasn’t just the answer that made me wish I had never asked.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, moving to stand, unsure what had caused him to become so angry.
“You have no sense about you,” he said harshly, not looking at me. “You should not be out here.”
My heart picked up into a panic; what the heck had just happened? How could he go from one extreme to the other so quickly? But then I realized who I was talking about. I thought of the words I asked him. It was nothing more than he had asked me; it didn’t make sense. “Then why did you ask me out here?” I demanded.
He let out a rough breath. “It is not too difficult to figure out is it?” His sinister eyes flickered to the pile of hay as some indication, and it made me sick, but I shook my head; the words he said to me couldn’t have merely been said just to lay with me. He confessed too much, his expressions were too innocent, and if that really was his reason, he would have tried to go through with it, not stop as a gentleman would.
“You’re lying,” my uninhibited mouth blurted before my wine-filled brain could stop it. “You… you and me—”
He turned and smirked wickedly at me, taking a step closer, “Needs and emotions are not the same, remember?” he interrupted, pointing at me, as he impudently spat my words—now loutishly tainted—back into my face.
“Needs?” I shot out appalled, as he grinned callously at me. I felt gravity take every part of my body to the floor with only my skeleton somehow able to resist the pull. The words hurt badly as though a million knives shot through me and slit my body the whole way down, but the wounds burned, filling with a fire. My nails pressed deep into my palms. “Manipulating someone’s feelings for your own sordid entertainment is… it’s… it’s cruel!”
“I never claimed differently.” He shrugged his shoulders coolly. “I only care for myself, and I like it that way.”
I shook my head, feeling disgusted. “Then why did you stop?”
Something in his eyes flashed, but he continued to grin condescendingly, giving a slight shrug. “Because if I had continued, I would be stuck with you following me around like some lost dog.”
My jaw all but hit the floor. “A lost dog?” I demanded furiously. “I wouldn’t follow you even if… even if you were the last map out of here!” I stomped my foot immaturely to make my point, but he only laughed. I felt more ridiculous in this moment than I had ever in my life. That small insignificant moment had meant more to me than I could have imagined, but it really meant nothing to him, and that’s why he stopped because he knew it would never mean anything to him. I felt tears work their way up to my eyes, and I desperately tried to fight it off, embarrassed that I had let myself become so worked up, hating my heart for tricking my brain into thinking I meant something to him.
His face went hard. “You saw the inscription,” he said accusingly, voice lowered into a seductive drawl as he pointed at me again. “Only a face. No heart, no soul… nothing beyond crimson blood. I warned you. It is your fault, not mine.”
I took rapid deep breaths that nearly came out as wheezing. It was true; he had been fair. He showed me his cold callous pieces, but I chose to misplace them as the merciless forces of nature worked against me. My irrational heart had made a painful error by not listening to my brain and the consequence hurt badly, but I wouldn’t flounder around like some idiotic love struck teenager. I would salvage the bit of dignity I had left. “Well, thank you for reminding me,” I replied as tartly as I could, and turned on my heel to walk away, but he grabbed my arm and wheeled me back to face him.
Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle) Page 12