Caller of Light (11 page)

Marek’s laughter spilled over her. “Although they won’t welcome our overnight stay so close to the gateway, they shouldn’t bother us as long as we leave tomorrow.”

A flaming arrow arcing high into the cloudy sky captured their attention. “There they are,” Marek said, guiding FireStrike toward the small clearing Sampson had deemed appropriate.

She grabbed Marek’s waist and locked her knees under the hard, leather restraints to stay in the saddle as FireStrike dove at a dizzying pace, the wind whipping over her. When they neared the ground, FireStrike snapped his mighty wings open to stop their rapid descent and hovered before dropping lightly onto the damp soil.

Marek jumped off and grabbed Carina’s waist, lifting her down while she held his forearms. She’d grown accustomed to his touch. Although a proper lady wouldn’t let him so near, she couldn’t force herself to follow the strict requirements custom dictated after experiencing his body lying beside her at night. And if people talked about her as a result, so be it.

Figuring Marek would go find Sampson to discuss defensive positions for the camp, she turned for the forest to stretch her legs, but Marek grabbed her arm. She twisted and melted into his blazing green eyes. The grey flecks sliced through her like tiny arrows implanting invisible marks of ownership.

In a low tone, he commanded. “Stay close to camp, Carina McKay.”

The timbre of his voice as he murmured her name resonated deep within her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed. He refused to release her until she nodded. As he walked away, she watched his long, confident stride. His leather riding pants captured her attention…and imagination. They fit him well, defining him enough to send her mind tumbling, wondering what lay hidden underneath.

She smiled and shook her head before turning toward the woods. She wanted to get a closer look at the Karelides. Her thoughts rambled as she walked through the quiet cover of wide-canopied trees with small leaves that twittered in the gentle breeze above her. Many of the leaves had fallen due to the cooler weather, blanketing the floor in a soft carpet of color.

When the strand ended, she stood at the edge of a grassy meadow spanning as far as she could see to the east and west, but the vast plain was handcuffed to the north because it bumped against the rugged mountains. The majestic Karelides took her breath away. She sat on a jumble of rocks and stared at the mysterious land just beyond her reach. She could hear Marek’s men nearby and decided she was close enough to run back to camp at the first sign of trouble.

Her thoughts centered on the untamed land across the meadow. While the mountains mesmerized her, the mysterious valley between them sparked an unyielding curiosity. If she had Mira, the temptation to get a better glimpse of the secluded valley would’ve been irresistible. Just the idea of being so close to the gateway filled her with a strange sense of anticipation. Lying in the shadow of the mountains, the valley was obscured by a ground covering mist but that didn’t stop her from imagining the excitement of traveling through it into Crios. Hundreds of unbonded Critons soaring through the skies would be a breathtaking sight.

Her mind drifted as she stared into the mist that hid the depth of the valley from view. Transfixed by the swirling vapor trapped within the confines of the two towering mountains, she envisioned the wild beauty of the magical realm. Like a living thing, the haze breathed with a life of its own. Even from the distance, the mist beckoned her, tugging with invisible fingers. Her senses dulled and her eyelids grew too heavy to keep open, and she dreamed of walking in the valley.

The smell of dank, spongy loam filled her nostrils. She could only see a few feet around her, but that didn’t stop her from disappearing into the white fog. It curled around her, tickling her skin with gentle caresses before enclosing upon her. She glanced behind her, gone was the path from where she’d come, blanketed by the constantly moving cloud. The mist pushed her, encouraging her farther into its shifting embrace.

A tedious nagging pricked at her subconscious and threatened to pierce through her sluggish mind. But she ignored its growing insistence, choosing to let the vapor guide her deeper. A lethargic sense of peace enveloped her. Only the persistent, nagging buzz at the back of her mind kept her from slipping into a relaxed listlessness. The oppressive mountains pressed in on her, but she couldn’t see the rugged walls since the wispy fog cradled her in total isolation.

With a sudden jab, the nagging stabbed hard enough to force a hole into her consciousness, oozing into her mind like warm honey.

You should be afraid. You have strayed too far.

She shook her head. No, she was still at the edge of the meadow.

Only your body remains, your mind has drifted. She brought you here and pulls you into the valley.

Carina stopped at the mention of being lured into the fog and turned a full circle trying to orient herself. But the undulating vapor protected its secrets, blinding her.

You are not ready. You must go back.

Ready for what? Besides, she was just daydreaming on a rock.

She comes. You can sense her. You must GO.

Carina winced and grabbed her throbbing head. Disoriented and nauseas, a chill rippled through her, a foreboding of something approaching in the mist. The first tendrils of panic crept up the base of her skull.

Marek is looking for you. You must hurry. She is almost upon you.

Carina’s sense of urgency escalated. She had to escape, but it proved harder than just retracing her steps. As if expecting her move, the vapor expanded into a thick cloud of billowing haze, cocooning her in a silent tomb that stifled her breathing. This is only a dream
,
she thought over and over as if repeating her mantra would make it true and she’d wake up.

She is here.

The hair on the back of Carina’s neck bristled. Her flesh pebbled as terror settled into her bones. The once soothing mist coated her body in a cold dampness. Something walked in the fog with her. She stood rooted to the ground, frozen with fear.

She cried out and grabbed the side of her head. Another presence pushed at her mind. Strong and forceful, it seeped through her defenses. She doubled over, pressing the palms of her hands into her temples. “Get out,” she hissed between clenched teeth.

“Do not fear, my child.”
The voice boomed inside her, vibrating in multi-toned layers and definitely not human.

She screamed and collapsed to her knees.

“Turn around.”
The voice encouraged.
“Turn. See your fate.”

She struggled to her feet, panting softly. The warm exhalation of air from the creature’s breath peppered her skin. She wanted to run, but she had become stone. Her body refused her commands.

“Dear one, do not be afraid. See me.”

Without consent, Carina’s head swiveled while the rest of her body stayed immobile. She moved in slow motion, every action exaggerated and beyond her control. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut so she couldn’t witness the monster commanding her. But like a puppet unseen strings forced her compliance, an unwilling participant in a nightmare.

What she saw caught her breath. The scream threatening to burst from her mouth lay paralyzed at the back of her throat. Out of the mist two large amber orbs for eyes stared at her. She’d never seen such eyes, eyes that threatened to consume her.

“Come to me.”
The voice whispered in her head and reverberated all around her.
“Come, and claim your birthright.”

Her stomach lurched. She was going to be sick. “I’m a mixed blood,” she stammered. “I have no birthright.”

The soothing voice transformed into a harsh, persistent pounding inside her mind.

“Do not question what is yours to take.”

The amber eyes blazed with a brilliant glow forcing Carina to shield her face from the white-hot radiance. Scorching flames obliterated the mist around her leaving the air humid and smelling of sulfur.

A large Criton head unexpectedly loomed overhead. The animal’s tawny irises contracted and speared through her barricades like a flimsy piece of paper, absorbing her mind. Lost within those ageless orbs, Carina throbbed with ancient power and wisdom. A gripping sadness enveloped her, foretelling of an old pain, a terrible loss that could never be recovered. How could any creature live with such an unbearable ache?

Flames licked at the corners of the Criton’s mouth as she lowered her yellow head and peered into Carina’s stunned face.

No mixed blood could have entered the valley and called me,”
the Criton bellowed.

Carina gasped and pitched backwards. She braced herself for a hard landing, but strong arms caught her.

“And where did you think you were going?”

His voice poured into her, evaporating the image of the Criton and the mist-filled valley. She scrambled to regain her bearings. She sat on her rock with the Karelides looming in the distance, except now Marek’s hard wall of a chest pressed against her back and his arms were wrapped around her. She could smell him, his closeness more intimate than riding FireStrike. She reached for him and let his strength calm her.

“I must’ve been daydreaming.”

“Well, I’m glad I found you because you were about to tumble off your perch.”

She twisted to look into his face. His eyes sparkled with mischief. She shrugged, still mentally sorting through what just happened. Was it only a dream?

“You don’t listen very well.”

That caught her attention. “What? But I stayed close, just like you said. I could hear the men.”

“Yet, when they called, you didn’t answer.” His voice lowered and his eyes narrowed. “You’re not on home soil anymore. This land is wild and dangerous. You must remain aware of your surroundings.”

She bit her lip. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Her eyes inadvertently traveled to the valley, and she shivered.

Marek’s arms tightened around her, crushing her against his chest. A sense of peace filled her and the experience faded from her mind. Marek would keep her safe.

“Are you cold?”

“Not now.” She relaxed into him, enjoying his affection as she stared at the mountains in the vanishing daylight.

“They are beautiful, aren’t they?” he murmured, nuzzling her ear.

Any lingering thoughts about the valley dissolved as she focused on the man pressed against her. His breath on her cheek instigated delicious tingles to splinter through her body, warming her from the inside, yet she shivered again.

“I thought you said you weren’t cold?” he whispered, his lips brushing down the side of her neck.

“I’m…I’m not.”

His chuckle spilled into her. She loved his laugh.

With a sigh, he pulled away. If she had more courage, she would’ve protested as his muscular arms unwrapped themselves.

“Come Carina, time to get off your rocky throne and walk with me to the safety of our fires.”

He held out his hand and she smiled as she reached for it. She smiled again when he continued to hold it as they walked back to camp in the fading light.

15 – MISUNDERSTANDINGS

They were up earlier than usual the next day. The sun had yet to rise, but the increasing glow on the horizon marked its imminent appearance. Although Marek didn’t expect trouble, he was anxious to get out of the Bridal Lands. He’d posted extra guards overnight, some even in the surrounding forest farther away from camp to settle the disquiet churning his stomach.

He stood at the main fire, eating a cold breakfast consisting of a hard wheat cake and a strip of dried meat when Carina stepped out of the tent. Her hair, a mass of tangled curls, draped around her in a wild array of untamed independence before a brush had yet to reestablish dominance. She raised her arms overhead and stretched, not bothering to stifle a yawn. He smiled. They had talked well into the early morning hours until she fell asleep in mid-sentence.

She pursed her lips and rubbed her arms at the cooler weather before walking toward the creek, her hips swaying back and forth in an alluring invitation.

He ran his fingers through his hair. He could not deny that was taken with her. She excited and frightened him. Carina was a dilemma, strong and independent, yet vulnerable and naive. Without knowing it, she tantalized and teased him, and drove him crazy. Lying beside her at night had become an exquisite torment. But the thought that he might not be her first plunged his mind into a downward spiral. He clenched his teeth at the idea of another man touching her.

“She’s a wonder, isn’t she, Sire?”

Marek turned to find Damon standing beside him watching the barren path where Carina’s presence had just lingered. Marek’s father had made Damon Captain of the Guard during Marek’s teen years. Although Sampson was now captain, Damon had never shown any jealousy. The younger men admired the older warrior and looked to him for direction. Damon had fought in many battles and seen his share of death, but still retained a sense of compassion Marek respected.

“Aye, she is.” Although he’d only told Sampson of Marissa’s allegation, Marek guessed the rest of the men suspected Carina’s taint. He had intended on her staying with him just the first night because of their late start. But somehow, he’d always found an excuse to keep her next to him. He could only blame himself and his selfish reluctance to move her into another tent. He enjoyed lying beside her too much—the warmth of her body, her sweet smell and whispered laughter, the blush on her cheeks when he suggested something inappropriate—such a wonderful agony the Gods were inflicting on him.