by Chandra Ryan
One of Reuel’s eyebrows arched inquisitively, but he remained silent.
“It’s an arranged agreement. My church marries into his church to ensure the next generation of clerics.” The words spilled out of her like water over a broken dam. “I know, that’s no excuse for my behavior. A promise is a promise, regardless of the circumstance.”
“I see.”
She examined him closely, but didn’t see any of the disgust or outrage she’d expected to find. Actually, she couldn’t identify any emotion at all. “I can only imagine what you must think of me…”
“I wasn’t proposing breaking your betrothal, Sophie.”
“Still, it doesn’t make me very faithful does it?”
He studied her for a moment. “Betrothed means the bond hasn’t been placed yet?”
“We haven’t been married, no.”
“Then no harm done.” He pulled her to him so she landed in his lap.
“I suspect it’s a difference in culture.” She was determined to resist his charms this time, but she could already feel desire heating her blood. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t Naryn melt her will with a single look as he could?
“I would stop if you asked it.” He kissed the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder.
His voice was hypnotic, his touch intoxicating. She wanted to tell him to stop, knew she should, but she couldn’t force her mouth to say the word. It felt so good, sitting there in his lap, him kissing her neck.
“Do you want me to stop?”
His warm breath tickled her ear and sent a delicious shiver down her back.
“No. But I need you to.”
“Then tell me to stop.”
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, his kisses chasing away any rational thought. But the kisses stopped suddenly as they heard the door to the abbey being thrown open violently.
“You go or they come searching, right?” He released her as he said the words.
She looked from him to the door and then back to him. The room was suddenly cold without his embrace to keep her warm.
“Go. You would have stopped me sooner or later, better now than after one of your villagers sees you in my arms.”
Staring into his eyes, she saw the truth of the words. Before she could change her mind, she stood and walked through the door into the rectory.
“Sister Sophie…”
All thoughts of the man in the next room vanished as she saw Maria standing in the middle of the vestibule, her four-year-old son cradled in her arms.
“Please…”
Sophie ran the short distance and took the child from the woman. Her mind was racing for a new treatment, but she couldn’t come up with anything they hadn’t already tried. “What happened?”
“He was fine this morning, but when the dragon flew over he started having tremors.”
“Have you taken him to see Brother Naryn?”
“We were with Brother Naryn when it started. He said he’d be fine, that he just needed to lie down.”
Something didn’t seem right with the statement. But not being able to think about anything but the child, she jumped on the first thing that came to her. “He told you to have the child lie down?” She couldn’t believe he would have so completely given up on finding a cure or, at the least, a treatment to slow the progression of the illness.
“Aye.”
The boy was cold and clammy in Sophie’s arms. Laying him down on a pew, she put her hand over his chest, feeling for the rise and fall of his breath. It was slow, but he was still breathing, not that that gave her any real hope.
“I need to get some herbs. I’ll be right back.” She ran at a full sprint back into her living quarters, but seeing the door slightly ajar sent a prick of panic through her. Had her guest opened it, or had she forgotten to close it? Stepping into the room, she found Reuel still sitting in the chair, flipping through one of her agricultural texts.
“Everything okay?”
Turning away from him, she scampered through the quarters, grabbing any herb or potion she thought might help. “Not really. One of the villager’s children is ill.”
She heard the gentle slap of paper being put down, but continued searching through her things.
“How ill?”
This time she did turn to face him, but her silence was the only answer she offered.
After gathering the mental list of supplies, she brushed past him and back out to the rectory, this time double checking to make sure the door was firmly shut behind her.
Maria had moved to sit next to her son and was running her palm over the child’s hair. The picture brought tears to her eyes, but Sophie blinked them back. If she didn’t stay calm, the mother never would.
Racing to where they were sitting, Sophie started to rummage through her jars of herbs, hoping some idea would come to her. But she stopped when the mother looked up at her, her eyes red and brimming with tears.
“He’s going to die, isn’t he?”
“That’s the Maker’s decision, not mine.” Sophie’s voice sounded firm despite her inner battle to remain in control.
“But I think we can help.”
Sophie turned at the sound of the deep, seductive voice. “Reuel?” Fortunately, he’d found a tunic and robe to slip on over the breeches.
“Who’s he?”
“He’s a…”
“I’m a visiting cleric.”
Sophie watched as Reuel sat down next to the child. His manner was calm and his touch confident as he started examining him.
“I’ve seen this before.” His expression was foreboding, almost angry. “He needs lemonbalm.”
“Lemonbalm?” It was one of the herbs she had carried out with her, but she couldn’t see how it would help. It’s only use was to sweeten bitter potions.
“Lemonbalm.”
Hearing the word spoken through his clenched jaw and seeing the sparks of fire spring to his eyes, she quickly handed him the jar of the requested herb.
Reuel took a pinch of the herb and placed it on the child’s tongue. After he’d coaxed the boy to swallow it, he began checking the boy’s breathing and heart rate. And, watching him, Sophie found herself hopeful for the first time in three months.
He placed a hand on each of the child’s temples then looked up at the mother. “He’s going to be fine.” As if to prove the statement, the child looked up and smiled at him.
“Oh thank you!” Maria grabbed her son and held him tightly to her chest. “You have no idea…”
Sophie had to stifle a gasp of disbelief as Reuel stood quickly, not even letting the mother finish the sentence of gratitude. “If you’d excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”
He only made it two steps, however, before he collapsed.
For one terrifying moment, she stared at his body not knowing what to do. White noise roared in her ears and her chest clenched painfully. After rushing to his side, she dropped down next to him, her hand seeking out evidence he was still alive. He was breathing and his heart seemed strong, but his eyes twitched behind their closed lids. “Help me move him!”
Maria looked to the man and then to her son, indecision clouding her face.
“This man just saved your son! Now you will help me move him, or I will charge you this year’s entire harvest as the fee!”
Her nod was stiff, but she did stand. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s help Sister Sophie.”
It was hard work, but with Sophie carrying him under his arms and Maria carrying his feet, they managed to get him through the door and into a small bedroom. When he was settled comfortably, she dismissed Maria and checked his breathing and heartbeat. When both appeared normal, she finally allowed herself to relax, relieved that it was exhaustion and nothing more serious that’d caused the collapse.
Satisfied he’d be okay by himself, she made her way to the kitchen and started cooking. The rote chore did wonders for keeping her mind focused and he’d be hungry when he wo
ke.
Chapter Four
Reuel woke to the smell of cooked venison and fresh baked bread. His head pounded and his eyes itched, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of food. Rolling over, he opened his eyes and sought out the source of the smell. On a small table next to the bed, he found a steaming bowl of stew and a plate of bread with butter.
“I didn’t know what you ate, but I assumed…”
His attention swung to the woman standing in the doorway. Purple flecks of anxiety now clouded her aura. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
He moved to sit, but the room swam around him and black spots danced in front of his eyes.
“Can I help?”
The smell of jasmine told him that she was already at his side.
“I’m fine.” He cursed the sharp edge to the words. The last thing he wanted to do was to push her away, but he hated feeling so weak.
“Okay. I’ll just go finish up some texts…” Her voice was soft and her aura was spiked with the whites of uncertainty as she turned back to the door.
“What happened to the boy?” He wanted to know, but he also wanted her close to him again.
She turned back to him, studying his face carefully.
“Is he okay?”
She nodded stiffly as she took a seat next to him on the bed. “He’s doing well. After the lemonbalm, he recovered fully.”
His stomach growled angrily and cramped with hunger, but she beat him to the stew. Picking the bowl up, she dipped the spoon into it.
“You know, in all my years of studying herbs, I’ve never once heard of lemonbalm having any real medicinal value.” She lifted a stew-laden spoon and, after blowing on it softly, held it out to him.
He didn’t want to be treated like an invalid, but the stew smelled so good and he was so hungry. Leaning forward, he took the bite and sighed as the tender meat fell apart in his mouth and the rich, savory broth coated his tongue.
“We both know it had nothing to do with the lemonbalm.” He took the second bite without reservation.
“Then why pretend?” She broke the bread and dipped it in the broth before handing it to him.
He took a large bite, chewing it quickly before swallowing. He could already feel his strength returning. “Because humans don’t have magic and since I look like a human…”
“It’s best to act like one.” She studied him for a minute before offering him another bite of the stew. “What was wrong with him?”
His stomach turned painfully at the question. He didn’t want to talk about what had been done to the child.
“Is there any way we can prevent it from happening again? We’ve just lost so many already. I can’t bear to lose another,” she pressed.
He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and shook his head. “His essence had been drained.”
The spoon paused, forgotten, as she cocked her head to one side. “His essence?”
He took the spoon from her and set the food back down on the table. His appetite had suddenly disappeared. “Every living thing has a field of energy around it. The field is its aura, the energy trapped by the aura is its essence. The soul feeds from the essence. Without it, the being can’t survive.”
“His mother said it’d started when the dragon…” she paused for a second before correcting herself, “…when you flew over.”
Anger filled him as years of taunts and insults flashed through his mind. “I’d never steal from another, let alone a child!”
The blood drained from her face, leaving it pale. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean to…” She paused, looking away from him for a moment. “I’m just trying to understand what’s happening to the children. I didn’t mean to imply it had anything to do with you.”
The stricken look on her face left him ashamed of his outburst. She had no idea what she’d said, nor that it’d stung because it’d hit close to home. “I’m the one who owes an apology.”
She inched closer to him, her hand brushing his gently. He felt a sharp pang of desire stir deep within him and regretted letting things go so far earlier.
“I wasn’t trying to accuse you.”
He took a deep breath and looked away from her. He couldn’t bear to look at the undeserved trust in her eyes. She had every right to be suspicious of him. Even as he sat next to her professing his innocence, he could feel the tempting pull of her essence. “You should.”
“Why?” The question was barely louder than a whisper.
“Because it’s a dragon doing this, and your village is too small to attract many dragons.”
“Are you sure it’s a dragon?”
He smiled grimly. “Yes. It takes a good deal of magic to manipulate energy. Even among the dragons, there are only a handful that can do it.”
“Are you one of the ones that can?”
His stomach rolled with nausea as he nodded.
“Is that how you healed Maria’s child?”
He nodded again. “I gave him some of mine.” He looked away as he remembered how much had been taken from the child. “A lot of mine.”
It was okay to give energy to another, but to take it without permission and to take it from a child… He couldn’t finish the thought. Looking into her eyes, he wondered if she saw him as a monster capable of doing such a thing.
As if sensing his unease, she smiled and ran her fingertips along his cheek. “I know it’s not you, Reuel.”
“You’ve seen another dragon then?” He couldn’t believe he was arguing with her, but to have someone believe in his innocence was too new of an experience for him to embrace.
“No, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. You can shift between forms. Can others?”
“Yes, that trait is fairly common. But you would’ve noticed a dragon in your midst. It only took flying over for me to be discovered.”
“You had no reason to hide your nature. This one obviously does.”
It should’ve been enough, but it wasn’t. He needed more from her. Needed to know how she could trust him when his own family couldn’t. “How can you be so sure I’m not the one?”
She stared at him for a moment, as if giving thought to the question. “You saved a child when you could have done nothing.”
“I couldn’t let him suffer…”
“Which is why I’m sure. I don’t know exactly what that healing cost you, but judging from your exhaustion, it must have been high.”
It’d been what he wanted to hear, but the words made him uncomfortable. “Only momentarily.” He shrugged, trying to dispel some of his unease. “I’ve already regenerated most of what I gave him.”
“And you knew it would be high,” she continued as if not hearing him. She took a chunk of the bread from the plate and smeared it with butter before popping it into her mouth. “So, it looks like there’s another dragon hiding in the village.”
“Or in the grasslands. It’d have to be nearby, though.”
“How do we find it?”
The word we sent a shock through him. Not because she’d assumed he’d be willing to help, but because he found there was nothing he wanted more. To stay near her, to be her rescuer, to be the one she desired, the one she trusted—the thought left him heady. It also frightened him more than he’d ever imagined possible.
“We don’t.” He needed to put some space between them. He needed to remember that she was already promised to another, and that it was one of his kind killing the children in her village, a dragon just like him. Or, at least, that’s how she’d eventually see it. “But if I were you, I’d keep my eyes open and stock up on whatever was on that arrow tip that brought me down.”
Her face fell slightly and her aura filled with flecks of disappointment, but she recovered quickly. “Of course. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d help.”
He hated the way she looked at her boots as she said the words, her face crestfallen. Cursing himself under his breath, he shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Although, I’d start with Na
ryn, if I were sticking around.”
“Naryn? But he’s a healer.”
The look in her eyes told him she was keeping something from him, but he didn’t press. She was entitled to her secrets just as he was entitled to his.
“Doesn’t sound like a very good one to me.”
Her eyes flittered toward the wall just above his head. “Naryn wouldn’t be involved. He’s a bit of a zealot, but he’s not a monster.”
He had to stifle the growl that started low in his throat. He didn’t like her making excuses for the man, but he didn’t dare question why. Something told him he wouldn’t like the answers he got. “He may have nothing to do with this, Sophie. But I heard Maria say the child was with him when he fell ill and that he didn’t even try to help.”
“Were you spying on me and Maria?” Her voice was high-pitched with accusation.
“Spying? Really?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m not a child, Sophie. I don’t spy. You left the door open and I overheard you. I’m not sure what his role in this is, but if he’s resigned himself to letting the children die, he’s not a good guy.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she considered his words. “Wait. The child couldn’t have been with him. Naryn’s the one that shot…” Her face paled as she stopped mid-sentence.
He could guess what Naryn shot by the guilt that suddenly flooded her aura and by the look of terror that swept across her face, but he needed to hear her say the words. “The one that shot what?”
She fidgeted on the bed, her face pinched like she was suddenly nauseous. “He wasn’t with the child because he’s the one that shot the arrow.”
This time he didn’t bother to stifle the growl. “Your betrothed, the man you will bond, is the one that almost killed me?” The bitter taste of bile crept up the back of his throat. “Oh, that’s lovely.”
Pushing back the covers, he stood slowly, allowing time for the dizziness to pass. He’d been through a lot today and the last thing he wanted was to fall into her arms. “I think it’s time for me to leave.”
