Cursed by Diamonds (A Dance with Destiny Book 1)

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Cursed by Diamonds (A Dance with Destiny Book 1) Page 6

by JK Ensley

“Or, perhaps you hit your head harder than I thought.” He put his hand to her forehead. “Are you well, truly?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Dante. I’m fine.”

  He smiled. “Good, because your bath is ready. Now, if you will just tell me what it is you would like to eat—”

  “Just surprise me,” she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “Surprise you? Mmm… that could be dangerous, Milady, delightfully dangerous.”

  He winked and smiled again. The butterflies she had only just tamed sprang back to life. She tried to ignore them.

  “None of this is really happening anyway. It is simply some bizarre yet lovely dream. I’ll probably wake up after the hot bath and you’ll be gone—disappeared.” She shrugged her shoulders. “So, do as you like.”

  She gave him a half-hearted smile before walking away.

  Dante just stood there staring at the closed door now separating them. A gentle smile turned up one corner of his mouth.

  The water had steamed up the little room. She swiped the mirror with her hand and stared at the obvious dark half-moons under her deep blue eyes. A slight movement at the edge of her vision caused her to turn. It was rose petals, floating and bobbing, entirely covering the water’s surface.

  “I know now that I am truly dead,” she called out through the closed door. “The gods have sent you here to escort my soul from this realm. Have they not? Yes. Yes, they must have.” She looked back to the lovely pink petals. “For there is no other way you are real,” she whispered.

  Stepping into the water, Jenevier smiled as she inhaled her favorite enticing aroma. She sighed and then smiled, slowly sliding her aching head down into the blessed warmth.

  Or perhaps I’m already in heaven… my heaven.

  When she resurfaced, Dante was on his knees beside the tub. She let out a little scream, clutching at her chest.

  “Are you a madman? Jeez… What’re you trying to do, cease my heart its beating?”

  She let her head fall back against the tub, and winced from the pain of the forgotten lump. Dante didn’t speak.

  She looked at him, confused, and then worried. “What’s wrong? What has happened? Are you well?” She grabbed his hand. “Is it Raven?”

  “I was wondering…”

  He gazed at her with a look so intense it caused her breath to catch in her throat.

  “W-wondering about what?”

  “About why is it you live out here all by yourself, all alone. Do you like it? Who helps you? Who takes care of you?” He glanced up at the room, motioning with a nod of his head. “Who tends to this place and makes sure you’re safe?”

  “Umm… and you couldn’t wait until I got out of the bath to ask me that?”

  “Please.” His voice carried a sense of anxiousness she hadn’t heard before. “Please tell me. I wish to know of your life.”

  “What’s with this sudden curiosity, Dante?” She smirked teasingly, trying to lighten the strange heaviness now surrounding them. “Are you trying to determine who would avenge me if you suddenly decided to cleave my head from my shoulders?”

  “I jest not, Jenevier. Tell me. I would know the truth of it. Who do you have in this world?”

  Her powerful internal defenses instantly kicked into high gear. His lovely eyes were filled with curiosity and hope. But the urgency in his voice gave her pause… and pissed her off just a little.

  “I have myself. Who else do I need?”

  “What? But who—”

  “I will never abandon myself, Dante. I will never hurt myself or let myself down in any way. Do you think me frail? Simple, perhaps? Can you not see that I am more than capable of taking care of a small home and a couple horses?”

  “I do not doubt your strength, Milady. Nor did I mean to insinuate in any way that you were simple. No, far from it, Jenevier. You are a remarkable woman.” He smiled then, a warm gentleness softening his handsome features. “Ahh… can you not tell? Your lovely eyes alone make me weak. Yes, you are gifted with rare magic to be sure. But, tell me. Where are your friends, tiny Princess? Where are the ones you love?”

  “In the stables,” she snapped.

  “Come now…” He lightly touched her cheek. “Do not be cross with me. I truly wish to know. Tell me. Where are your human friends, Milady? The ones you laugh with. The ones you share your dreams with. What about the special one you share your heart with? Where are those friends, Princess?”

  “I know not.” She looked away. “I cannot remember if ever I had someone such as that in my life. But I’m certain if I have managed to survive up until this point by myself—”

  “It’s not about surviving,” he interrupted her, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s about living.”

  Dante moved behind her as he spoke, taking the soap from off the shelf. He began to gently wash her hair, taking special care around the now diminishing bump.

  She wanted to lash out at him not to touch her. But his hands felt sooo good in her hair. She closed her eyes, never wanted him to stop.

  “I’m sorry I made you cry,” he whispered.

  “I’m not crying,” she lied.

  He smiled down at the back of her head. “Regardless… I am sorry if I hurt your feelings in any way. I guess you could say I am curious by nature. And nothing is more fascinating to me than human nature.”

  She sort of grunted, rolled her eyes where he couldn’t see.

  “But mostly… I was wondering if there was room in your life for me. I would very much like the opportunity to get to know you.”

  A sardonic laugh escaped as she brushed away the tears, but salted her words with sarcasm. “And be my friend, my human friend?”

  “Yes… at first.”

  He poured clean water over her hair, making sure all the bubbles were gone before picking up her arm and gently washing it as well.

  His touch left her as weak as a babe and his voice lovingly rocked her heart in its arms.

  “I find you not only breathtakingly beautiful, but extraordinarily interesting as well. I am also keenly intrigued by your intelligence and sharp wit. I want to understand where it comes from. I wish to know you, Jenevier. Every hidden secret, every wandering thought—I want to know them all. What is your favorite flower? Your favorite food? Which type of wine do you prefer in the evening, sweet or dry? I wish to be able to see to your every need… before they even become needs.”

  “Why? Why do you care?”

  Now it was his turn to laugh. He picked up her other arm and continued bathing her. She had to demand her eyelids not to flutter.

  “Well, in truth, I have traveled to many places in this world. And… I have known many intriguing people, many women.”

  He lifted her foot and squeezed bubbles between her toes. She almost giggled.

  “Do that again.”

  He smiled as he obeyed her adorable request.

  “Yet never have I met one with such raw innocence… coupled with such fierce independence. And devotion—the unconditional love you show to your friends out there—never have I seen the like.”

  He placed her foot back in the water and gently picked up the other one, squeezing the bubbles between her toes again. She fought off her mounting giggles.

  “Wait… Dante, are you mocking me?”

  “No. I would never mock you. I do not yet trust your patience in my regard.” He smiled, but didn’t look up to meet her gaze. “I was referring to Raven. You love him ferociously, do you not?”

  “Yes. That’s a rather odd way of putting it. But yes. I love him truly.”

  “It’s as if you have been locked away from the world and all its influences. Yet you thrive—blissful and content.” He met her questioning gaze then. “Surely you can understand how amazing that is. How amazing you are. Jenevier, you are the rarest creature I have ever met. With but a look, I was enchanted. I know not if you charmed me, or if Fate decided to finally bless me. But I do know this. I never want to leave. You have
piqued my curiosity, tiny lady. Does that scare you?”

  “So… I am a merely a curiosity to you, am I? An enigma? A quest, perhaps?”

  “Not in the least. In truth, you are the very opposite. You’re not the challenge, my dear. You are the reward.”

  “Reward?”

  “Yes, reward. After my many years of searching, it is nearly impossible for me to believe I have finally found you.”

  “Y-you were l-looking for me?”

  “My whole life… yes.” He moved closer. “Does that scare you, Jenevier? Have I said too much too soon?”

  “…N-no.”

  She blushed and looked down. He gently lifted her chin.

  “I have waited for you for so long, Milady.” He moved to kiss her, pausing just before their lips touched. “Please,” he whispered against her waiting mouth. “Give me the chance to know you.”

  His kiss was… utter euphoria. She could feel the tingle all the way down to her toes. All those little electrical currents—the ones she had been desperately trying to suppress—exploded within her.

  When Dante started to move away, she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him to her. She wasn’t ready for this feeling, this magic, to end. When their lips finally parted, he rested their foreheads together.

  “…Jenevier.”

  She watched the rapid rise and fall of his perfect chest.

  “I have never felt such undeniable passion from merely a kiss,” he whispered, breathlessly.

  She closed her eyes, holding back the burning tears. He lightly placed his lips to the top of her head, remaining there for several heartbeats.

  She heard the soft click of the door as he left. Her heart wanted so badly to go along with this madness. She wanted to put aside her fears and that little lingering doubt running around in the back of her mind. If she were being honest with herself, she wanted to know love—wanted to know its glories, its pleasures, even its pain. She wanted it all. And she wanted it with Dante.

  Ugh! Again I ask… What the hell is wrong with me? She blew out a long breath as she picked up one of the pretty pink rose petals. She smiled. Why is this happening to me? And so easily, at that. Who is this man? How is it he holds such sway over my heart? He makes me tremble inside—quiver from his mere touch. And I love it! By the gods… I love the way he makes me feel—giddy with euphoria, smiling ‘til my cheeks hurt. I cannot say if such a thing will lead to love, not truly. But this is definitely desire, true desire.

  *****

  An involuntary smile was spread across her face as she walked into the kitchen, twisting her curls up in a towel. When she noticed the note stuck under the edge of an empty plate, she released a long breath, blowing her joy out with it.

  Dante was gone.

  She carefully unfolded the paper and read the scratchy handwriting… “Apologies, my love. I promise to return when I can.”

  She sighed, disappointedly. “I knew I’d have to wake at some point… dammit.”

  Tossing the note aside, she spread jam on a slice of bread, poured some tea, and walked out onto the patio.

  “This is one of the very reasons I don’t like people.” She spoke aloud to her steaming teacup. “If you have no one, then you have no one to miss. Remember how pleasant it was yesterday morning? Just you and me and the sunrise. Yesterday at this time I was happy and thankful. One single human later… I feel lonely and abandoned. What good are people anyway?”

  Jenevier was still talking away when she noticed a small package lying on the banister beside her.

  “Here now, what’s this?”

  It was wrapped in brittle old brown paper and tied with a string. She blew the dust off and examined it closer.

  “What an odd way to wrap a gift,” she mumbled.

  Odd wouldn’t even begin to describe what she found inside.

  Chapter 6

  Alastyn

  (ah-LASS-tin)

  The handsome young man with the emerald eyes grabbed Jenevier as she began to swoon. He swept her up in his arms.

  “I have you, Milady. Be calm. I will keep you safe.”

  The remaining villagers looked sympathetically toward them. In their hearts they wanted to help, yet they knew better. Hurriedly gathering up their children, they headed for home. Leaving behind the three bewildered young people… standing beneath the last lit lantern remaining from the now forgotten celebration.

  “Help me get her back to her house,” he said.

  “I-I’m okay now. A-all is well… I believe.”

  Jenevier’s mind was reeling from shock. She tried to slide from his arms, tried to stand on her own. She failed miserably.

  “Please, let me help you.” Deep concern was obvious in Alastyn’s strong voice, but an even deeper fear was growing in his heart. “I should not be able to sleep this night if I knew not how you fared.”

  “Gratitude, I will be forever in your debt.”

  She tried to manage a smile in return for his kindness. Instead, she simply gave in and laid her spinning head upon his shoulder.

  “No need for your gratefulness, Milady. The need is on my part alone.”

  “Apologies for not asking before,” she whispered. “Forgive me.”

  “Forgive you for what, Milady?”

  “Your name. I never asked. What’s your name?”

  “Alastyn.”

  She smiled. “Alastyn… I like it. It is an especially strong name. Did you know that? Ancient as an Olden, it is. Suits you well.” She gently fingered one of his long curls. “How is it you seem so resolute for one your age.”

  He snorted. “I’m not much younger than you, Jenevier. Not more than a couple months, I should think.”

  Jezreel smiled, teasingly. “And already such a man. Such a valiant gentleman, at that.”

  Alastyn looked at her in obvious confusion. He didn’t know for sure if she was being mean, or if she was simply trying to lighten the weight of the moment.

  “Don’t play with him so, Jezreel. I, for one, am truly grateful you were at my side this evening, Alastyn.”

  Jenevier managed to smile again, sweetly this time. Alastyn cleared his throat nervously. Just as they reached Marlise’s little cottage, she gently kissed his cheek.

  “Gratitude, sweet prince.”

  His face burned brightly. He tried to look away. And she found that endearing as well.

  “Now, let’s have a look at that hand,” Jezreel said whilst lighting a few candles.

  Jenevier had kept her aching right hand clasped firmly within her left. She was actually too terrified to look at it. Alastyn was on his knees in front of her when Jezreel returned with the candles. Gently, he took her clenched hands in his.

  She closed her eyes, turned her head, and ever so slowly, gave in. When he carefully unclasped her tiny fingers, Jezreel gasped aloud at the scorched, blackened flesh now marring her dear friend.

  “Oh dear stars! How in the world did that happen?”

  Jenevier jerked her head around and stared in horror at her once fair skin. The gruesome black burn strangely resembled a twisted heart.

  “W-what is it?”

  “I know not,” Jezreel said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “I have,” Alastyn whispered.

  “You’ve seen this mark before?” Jenevier asked.

  Jezreel gasped again. “Mark? That’s what the old woman said—that you’d been marked.”

  All attention landed firmly upon Alastyn. Alastyn—the boy who now sat with his eyes closed, rocking back on his heels, lost within himself.

  “What is it?” Jezreel demanded. “Tell me. You said you’d seen it before. Where? Where have you seen this?”

  Jezreel was the one with the white hot temper and severe lack of patience during stressful situations. Jenevier tended to be on the stronger, more leveled side. But she was no calming saint by any stretch of the imagination. They fit well together.

  “I-I don’t know what it is exactly. A m-mark,” he stut
tered.

  “A mark?” Jenevier felt nauseous and dizzy. “This much I already know.”

  “Where have you seen it?” Jezreel’s voice was rising with each word.

  Alastyn didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He was lost in horrible thought. Staring at Jenevier’s wounded little hand lying there in his, long forgotten memories began tormenting him anew.

  Jenevier’s gaze remained firmly fixed upon the young man, awaiting his response. She noticed once again his fair and beautiful features. He was almost… pretty. Long black curls fell down around his face, framing his fair skin and strong jaw line. Yet, as quickly as this enchantment had filled her mind, it was washed away by a wave of panic. She grabbed those beautiful soft curls, jerking his head back.

  “Tell me where you’ve seen this,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Alastyn’s emerald eyes were tightly closed, bitter tears streaming down his handsome face.

  Realizing how she was treating her valiant new friend, Jenevier’s terrified heart caved.

  “Oh, Alastyn, I… apologies. Please forgive me.” She tenderly took his face in her hands, pulling him close as she softly kissed his forehead. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  He relished the touch of her sweet lips upon him, her now gentle hands in his hair. His nose was so temptingly close to her neck. His lips, nearly touching her there. Her intoxicating scent filled his mind, fogging out the wretched memories within, replacing them with an almost unbearable desire to own her heart. As she now owned his.

  Jenevier kissed the top of his head many times, apologizing over and over. She leaned his head back and kissed both cheeks just under his closed eyelids, wiping away his tears with her tender lips. Touching their noses together, she began to rub them back and forth. Then, she giggled.

  Alastyn slowly opened his eyes. He couldn’t help but return her smile. Never had he been so smitten. His heart swelled with the sight of her loving smile, her sparkling eyes.

  “Hey, you okay now? I’m so sorry. That was my fear talking, Alastyn. Not me.”

  “Do not take it on your heart, Milady.” His eyes glistened when he looked at her. “You did not cause my tears, Princess.”

 

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