by JK Ensley
He tried in vain many times throughout the evening to gently take her hand, draw her attention only to him. But she would casually remove it, reaching for her wine glass whilst laughing at another story being told about her beloved aunt. Jenevier gave the haughty Prince of Wrothdem not a single glance or a moment’s notice all evening. Her deviant behavior and obvious dismissal tore through Merodach’s blackened soul.
There was no man in all of Ashgard who could stand before the Prince’s striking features and powerful presence. He couldn’t possibly comprehend how this young maiden was so effortlessly impervious to the spell he was so desperately trying to cast upon her. These inexplicable thoughts possessed him, almost maddeningly so. He was wholly consumed by her. His tainted mind ran like wildfire.
The Prince determined he would have Jenevier in his bed, under his spell, and at his beck and call. It mattered not how hard she would fight him in this. In truth, that delicious little scene thrilled him—her futile resistance. His black eyes glistened as his mind raced through all the things he was willing to do, the lengths he would go to get what it was he wanted. He became obsessed in this madness.
Thus, the evil began. First in his blackened heart. But soon, very soon, in reality itself.
Chapter 3
Dante
(DON-tay)
Jenevier bolted upright from the loud crack of thunder. Shrill screams still emanating from her throat, reverberating off the stable walls. She clamped her hands tightly over her mouth and waited for the silence to return. Frantically searching, she strained her eyes, trying anxiously to establish her location by her darkened surroundings.
The stables? But… how?
Scrambling to her knees, she reached for the hanging lamp. She found only air. Stretching forth her arms, searching, she grasped blindly out into the darkness. It was several heartbeats later before she noticed the weight of wet clothes draped about her.
Wet?
With this realization she spun around, checking to see if the stable doors were swinging open.
But, if they’re closed… how is it I am drenched? Oh, Raven!
She hastily made her way to the little office in the back of the stables. With a lamp finally glowing and an armful of blankets, she headed straight for her beloved horses.
The stall doors were yet bolted. Epona was fine. But she couldn’t see Raven.
She hurriedly slid back the stall latch, breaking off two nails down to the quick in the process.
“Crap…” She absently stuck the afflicted fingers in her mouth as she mumbled, “Dammit. That hurts.”
Slinging the door open wide, she slowly entered.
“Raven?”
There was no response—no noise of any kind. She held the lamp up over her head. It shook with the action, causing her shadow to dance hauntingly across the planked wall.
“Raven?”
She found him lying on a pile of hay in the corner of his stall, wet and shivering. He looked up at her through helpless eyes. Otherwise, he did not move. She used the blankets to dry him off as best she could, then threw another one over his back.
“All is well, dear friend. I won’t leave you for long. Okay? I only need to run to the house real quick. I’ll be right back. Please, don’t try to get up.”
She yelped, cupping her ears when another crash of thunder deafened her anew.
What fresh hell is this?
She ran for the doors then. Swinging them wide, she determined to head out into the rain. Instead, her screams echoed through the barn and out onto the wind.
A dripping figure was standing in front of her, fist raised to knock. She instinctively assumed a defensive position. Crouching low, she tried to search the shadowy figure’s face, seeking to expose any unknown malice hidden within those cloaked eyes. It was an effort in futility.
“Apologies, it was not my intent to scare you, Milady.” He quickly pushed back his drenched hood. “I had been knocking at the house when I saw a light flicker on out here. Please forgive me. I seek only shelter from this storm.”
His voice was smooth and masculine, enticing even. Jenevier stood frozen. It would do no good to scream again. No one would hear her. She couldn’t remember even having a visitor before. Suddenly she was dreadfully uncomfortable in her secluded little paradise… with no one around to hear her screams.
“I-I’m not sure wh-what to say,” she stammered.
“Then say this… Yes. I would be more than happy to help a perfect stranger who is in dire need of my assistance.”
He smiled at her then, giving her a slight yet reassuring wink. His eyes glistened. Now, she felt foolish for leaving him out in the storm.
“You startled me. Yes, please come in.” She stepped back, clearing her throat. “Umm… why would you journey out on a night like this? No one comes out this far during the day, much less during a storm. Wh-who are you?”
“Apologies, once again.” He bowed slightly. “My name is Dr. Dante Clave. I was trying to make my way through the forest when the sky turned worse than I had expected. Now, here I stand.”
“Make yourself as comfortable as you can. There are some blankets in the tack room, there.” Jenevier pointed behind her towards the end of the hallway. “And I’ll bring back what towels I can carry.”
“Where are you going, Milady?”
“To the house.”
“In this downpour?”
“I am currently minus a choice, good sir. I’ve got a sick horse.” She glanced over at Raven. “I will return with all haste.”
Dashing out into the cold rain without another word, she ran as fast as she safely could with her head down and her visibility at zero. The grass was slick and the moon was hidden. If she weren’t careful, she could plow right into a rose bush, or perhaps worse.
Once inside, she grabbed a large bag and wasted no time stuffing it full of blankets and dry clothes. She packed some socks, shirts, and towels before she remembered to grab the tea. Slinging the loaded bag over her back, she snatched up the teapot with one hand, the glass jar of leaves with the other, and headed back to the stables.
The rain was coming down in sheets, blowing in sideways. But there was simply no way she could run with the weight she now carried. Jenevier put her head down and stubbornly forged on, now thankful for the intermittent flashes of lightning giving her the clues she needed to keep on the right path.
Fear gripped her heart when strong hands seized her, throwing her into the air. She held her breath until she realized massive arms were carrying her through the storm. It was the stranger. She hid her face against him and held tightly to the teapot. He was speaking to her. She could feel the humming in his chest, but she couldn’t make out his words over the roaring wind.
She buried her nose against his neck and closed her eyes to the stinging rain. He smelled of moss and rowan and all things green. Without conscience intent, she inhaled deeply, rolled his scent around in her mind. Jenevier took special note of the hint of jasmine and something else she couldn’t quite make out.
Is that… patchouli? What a strange combination.
He stood her up in front of the door, steadying her, taking the heavy bag from her back. “So, you can understand why I’m not too awfully concerned.”
“No. I have no idea what you were saying.” She twisted her long curls around her fist, squeezing water unto the dusty floor. “I couldn’t hear for the wind.”
“Apologies, Milady. I was telling you not to worry. The horse will be fine. He hasn’t been injured and I see no signs of him being ill. He seems to be cold, wet, and a little scared. But that’s all.”
“Raven,” she muttered.
He tilted his head to the side. “Pardon?”
She ignored his quizzical look, continuing to wring the cold rainwater from her hair. “His name is Raven.”
“I see. You are very fond of him.” Dr. Clave smiled, amused.
“Extremely! He is my best friend… my dearest companion.”
&
nbsp; He used a single finger to pull a soaked curl loose from her forehead. “Well, as I said. Your best friend is going to be just fine.”
He smiled reassuringly, but Jenevier didn’t notice. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of the dark lump lying still in the hay. Her stomach was twisting in knots as she moved slowly towards the horse.
“But, how do you know?” she whispered, mostly to herself. “How can you be sure?”
“As I said before, I am a doctor—an animal healer.”
“Oh, but you never actually said… My apologies… I wasn’t paying adequate attention to…”
Her words trailed off as she knelt down by the beautiful horse and gently laid her hand on his side. She felt the hot tears on her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. The stress, pent up anxiety, and pure adrenaline washed over her. She collapsed inside. Joy and relief had caused her tears and they would not so easily be stopped. The constant flowing drops burned her eyes as they healed her heart.
“I promise you now, lovely maid. He will be fine.” Dante tried to comfort her. “If it will make you feel better, I will examine him whilst you are here. Your obvious fears forced me to check him when you left in such a hurry.” He reached toward her trembling back, but thought better of it and withdrew. “First, you need to dry off and warm yourself. There’s no way you can take care of him if you let your precious health succumb to unnecessary fears. And the chill those wet clothes will leave in your bones, that’s just asking for misfortune.”
“Rain doesn’t make you sick,” she said absently.
He chuckled softly, placing his large hand upon her shoulder. “In this… you are correct, my dear. Alas, stubbornness has killed many a great warrior.”
She smiled at his strange diagnosis and turned to look at him, actually seeing his face for the first time. There, bathed in the soft lamp light, warmed by the gentle smile he wore for her comfort, she saw that this man was truly beautiful.
Can a man be called beautiful? Are his eyes gray? She had never seen gray eyes before. What’s wrong with me? He is a complete stranger. Kind and gentle, yes. But a stranger nonetheless. She shook her head slightly, trying to erase her straying thoughts. “Well, we certainly don’t want my stubbornness to cease my breathing, now do we?”
“No, we do not. That would be an unforgivable waste.”
He softly ran his finger down her cheek. She didn’t flinch.
“Now, Milady. Go get yourself cleaned up. Fear not. I will stay right here with Raven.”
“You are wet as well, Milord. Perhaps you should take your own advice to heart.”
She smiled weakly at him before heading toward her little office, picking up the heavy bag as she went.
“Here, let me carry this, Milady. And… I’ll heat the tea you brought whilst you’re dressing.”
Strangely, she let him help her. A rather unusual thing for her to do, to say the least.
I cannot remember a more bizarre day than this, she thought, shaking her head and trying to focus.
Jenevier took her time peeling off the wet clothes. Draping them over the eclectic mix of odd furniture she could barely remember acquiring. Weary and exhausted, she lethargically slipped into the old shirt and torn pair of riding pants she had thrown into the bag.
Wrapping one of the towels around her dripping hair, she smiled as she pulled on a warm pair of socks. Sighing as she closed her eyes, Jenevier rested just a moment before stepping into the floppy old work boots propped up beside her desk. She snatched up a couple more blankets before heading back out.
When she opened the door, the inviting fragrance of rose tea hit her with the first gush of air. She smiled as she wrapped one blanket around her shoulders and hung the other over her arm. But what she saw when she stepped out of that office halted her steps.
Dante had indeed taken his own advice. He was standing there with one towel wrapped around his waist, using a second to feverishly rub the excess water from his hair.
“The shoes complete the outfit.” He tried to muffle his laugh.
She looked down at herself and couldn’t help a faint smile. “I prefer barefoot. But I’m too cold.”
“Then come, lovely lady. Warm your shaky bones with some of this delicious tea.” He held a steamy cup out toward her. “Where in the world did you find it?”
“As for my world, you’re looking at it.” She held out both arms wide to signify her surroundings. “As for the tea, I made it.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
She smiled at the curious stranger.
“My compliments, Milady. Do you sell it?”
“No, I do not.” She quickly averted her eyes from the chiseled V shape of his lower abdomen… and the towel barely hanging there from his hip bones. “I can’t even remember the last time I was at market.”
She graciously took the dainty cup and smiled again as she sat down beside Raven.
Dante nodded towards the horse. “I gave him a little something to help him rest.”
“Gratitude.”
Hot tears began to trickle down her face.
“He really is going to be fine. I believe your nerves have reached their limit, Milady. You need rest.”
She took a long sip of tea and untied the towel from her hair. “I can’t figure out what happened.” She gazed at the sleeping horse as she spoke.
“Well, when you ride in a storm, this is what can happen.” He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and sat down in front of her. “Perhaps the thunder and lightning is what spooked him so badly.”
“But that’s just it. We weren’t riding. I fell asleep there.” She pointed to the couch in the hallway. “And when I woke, we were both soaked and scared.”
“And you are certain you weren’t out in the storm?”
“Yes. No. I can’t remember, actually. Ouch!”
Jenevier absently reached up while she was talking and touched the back of her head. Her illuminated hand revealed a trace of blood.
“What is it? Let me see.”
The doctor almost lunged for her as she bent her head towards him.
“Hmm, that’s one nasty bump. The cut isn’t bad. You won’t require stitches. But you’ll have one serious headache tomorrow.”
He reached into an old leather bag she hadn’t even noticed, and handed her a glass bottle half full of clear liquid.
“Put some of this in your tea now so the pain won’t be so bad when you wake.” He cocked one eyebrow and studied her for a moment. “In truth, you probably shouldn’t go to sleep for a while. Just to be certain you don’t have any serious injuries—internal ones.”
“How much?” She looked up at him, shaking the little bottle.
“Here, let me.” He took the medicine and skillfully added the required dosage. “Two drops should be plenty.”
“Is this horse medicine?”
He laughed at the furrow now creasing her brow. “Yes, it’s the same thing. You simply change the dosage for people.”
She looked at him suspiciously.
“Fear not, Maiden. You’ll not neigh or grow a long tail. It’s only for pain. Promise.”
“And I was only teasing,” she said as she obediently drank her now spiked tea.
“I still don’t understand what happened here.” The doctor flicked his finger, pointing toward Raven.
“I was thinking about, perhaps…” She paused, trying to sort out her foggy memory. “Well, I had a strange dream.”
He chuckled again. “Dreams rarely leave you injured.”
“I know. But I can’t remember anything, not clearly.”
“Very well, then. Let’s start with your name.”
She blushed slightly and smiled as she extended him her hand. “Apologies. My name is Jenevier Embarr.”
“Hello, Lady Embarr. It is my honored pleasure.”
“Please, just Jenevier.”
“Very well, Jenevier. You may call me Dante, if you wish.”
She look
ed closely at her unexpected hero. Dante had chin length chestnut colored hair and his skin was tanned dark by too many hours in the sun. His shoulders were broad but his waist was thin. She already knew he was strong. He’d picked her up and tossed her in the air like she was a doll. When he smiled again, he displayed a whole mouth full of shiny white teeth.
She could feel only warmth and kindness radiating from this stranger. He had put her at ease—effortlessly made her feel safe, almost serene. It was a warm feeling. That was one thing that didn’t come naturally for her, not at all. Actually, he made her feel so comfortable, she was becoming a bit uncomfortable.
“You really should try to relax. No sleep yet. But try to relax.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice, and then blushed at being caught staring so intently.
“Here, let me help.” He moved closer.
“No, really. I’m fine, Dante.” She could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks. Jeez… what’s wrong with me?
“I insist,” he whispered, restraining a snicker.
Only then did she realize he was enjoying her embarrassment. Enjoying what he knew he was doing to her, on the inside. He gently took her foot, removing the filthy boot and sliding off her sock.
Jenevier slowly leaned back against the sleeping horse’s side while the good doctor began massaging away her tension. She freely released it. Letting it melt away like hot candle wax streaming down a taper. His touch felt like heaven.
“As you begin to relax, let your mind go. Now, tell me everything you can remember about this dream.”
“But… you’ll just think I’m childish.”
“What I think does not matter.”
She opened one eye and looked at him. He was staring intently at her. She smiled and closed her eyes.
“What is the last thing you remember?” he whispered.
She cleared her mind, trying to concentrate. “The lake.”
“Why were you at the lake?”
“I’m not sure. Raven… he couldn’t hear me.”
“Why?”
“He was frightened.”
