Island in the Forest

by Jeanne Hardt

  He held the knife above her, then inched the blade down her body. He applied no pressure, so it cascaded over the fabric of her gown, threatening to slice through. Several times, he stopped and pushed enough for her to feel it. He taunted her. At any moment, he could plunge it deep. And if she made any sound at all, she would certainly die.

  He straddled her, then leaned close. “This is the other Crenian blade from the library. Is it not beautiful?” He moved it within inches of her eyes. “It is quite sharp. Dane can attest to that.”

  “Bastard.”

  “Shh . . . Raising your voice and calling me names may bring the guard. Is that what you wish? It would ruin our fun.”

  “If you intend to kill me, go on and get it over with. Stop toying with me.”

  He sat upright and glided his hand down the length of her body, feeling every part of her through her thin gown. “I am not toying.”

  “I would rather die than let you have me. If you do not remove your hand, I shall scream.”

  He lifted it into the air, but kept the blade at her throat with his other hand. “It is not my intention to have you. Lady Justine satiated my needs for tonight. I only came to your chamber to tell you that from this day forward you will never rest. You shall suffer as I have. Death would be too easy. There are other things far more painful.”

  Her body continued to quiver, and again, he chuckled. “I considered having you. However, if I did, you would lose your prince.” He tapped his chin and looked upward. “I have a better plan. One which will bring despair to both of you. You shall never know when I will strike.”

  He climbed off her, then stepped from the bed and hovered above her. “And when I do, your heartache will be like none you have ever known.”

  The eerie light in the room made his sinister expression even more menacing. He bent down and put his mouth over hers.

  She pushed at him, then beat on his chest.

  He grunted and nipped her lower lip. “You were supposed to be mine.” He stood. “Oh—and Livvy—when you secure your chamber, remember to seal the window. After all, I am a gifted climber, and I have many other skills you shall never have the pleasure to partake.” He kissed her again. “One other thing . . .” In three swift strides he reached the window. “You will never find me.” He disappeared through the fluttering cloth.

  “Alwin!” She hopped from her bed, raced to the door, and flung it open.

  “Your Highness?” His face became ashen in the pulsing lamplight from the corridor.

  “Sebastian!” She flew down the hall. Only he could help her.

  Before she reached his chamber, she met him in the hallway running toward her. “Sebastian! Donovan was in my room! He went out the window.”

  “I will find him!” Sebastian sprinted for the postern gate. “Bring the other guards!” he yelled over his shoulder to Alwin.

  Alwin ran off in the opposite direction.

  Olivia returned to her room, fell to her knees, and released her tears.

  * * *

  Valen quickly unbarred the back exit.

  “Stay here and send the guards after me when Alwin brings them,” Sebastian said. “Do not let anyone in through this door!”

  “Yes, Your Highness. Please be wary. Donovan is strong and dangerous.”

  “I fear him not. Once he feels my blade, he will taste my strength.” Sebastian sped out the door.

  Anger pushed him on.

  Very little light came from the half-moon in the night sky, but his eyes rapidly adjusted. He circled the castle until he stood directly below Olivia’s window. Sobs filtered down from the chamber above.

  He feared what Donovan had done to her. “He shall not live to see the light of day,” he muttered and drew his sword.

  If only he had let Donovan fall from the cliff, all troubles would have ended then. Yet he believed him to be Olivia’s lover, so he chose to help him.

  “Damn him.”

  Running footsteps turned his head.

  “Your Highness? Where are you?” It sounded like Alwin.

  “Over here!” Sebastian felt no need for quiet. After all, Donovan was probably watching them.

  Alwin appeared, followed by Korvin and Gerard.

  “He cannot have gone far,” Sebastian said. “Spread out and yell if you see him.”

  They dispersed without further instruction.

  A loud scream came from the direction of the bridge. Sebastian sprinted toward the sound, joined along the way by the others. They had heard it as well.

  Korvin was unusually fast and reached the wall first. Excitement obviously stimulated him. “Your Highness!” He pointed across the canyon. “Look!”

  Sebastian hurried to the wall and peered out. Even in the darkness he saw what Korvin had; a cloak caught on the bridge, fluttering in the wind.

  “It is very dark, Your Highness,” Gerard said. “But, it appears to be Donovan’s cloak.”

  Korvin rapidly nodded. “Yes. And all of us heard the scream. He must have fallen to his death.”

  Sebastian wanted it to be true, yet something deep inside himself screamed that everything had happened much too easily.

  “We need to wait until dawn,” Alwin said. “Then we will know for certain.”

  “Yes.” Though Sebastian felt the need to keep searching, he doubted it would do any good. “Return to the castle. We shall meet again when the sun rises. For now, get some rest.”

  The men walked away and Sebastian stared out into the darkness.

  Where are you?

  Tomorrow they would identify the cloak. Finding Donovan’s body would not be so easy. They could claim the river washed it away, but Sebastian believed otherwise.

  An icy tingle crept along his skin. Could Donovan be watching him at this very moment? Laughing over his brilliant scheme?

  He might have won this battle, but Sebastian swore the man would never get close to Olivia again.

  Crossing the bridge would have been difficult, yet possible. A man in Donovan’s position would have little choice. Staying in Padrida would mean certain death. If he crossed into the forest, he would at least have a chance at life.

  Perhaps the beasts in the woods would tear him to shreds.

  Sebastian gritted his teeth and pounded his fists on the wall.

  In a brief moment of calm, he remembered the sound of Olivia’s tears. Anger had caused him to forget what was most important.

  He hastened to the castle. Olivia needed him.

  Chapter 31

  After identifying himself at the back entrance, Sebastian waited while Valen opened the heavy door.

  “What kept you, Your Highness?” Valen bowed his head. “I was concerned when you did not follow the others in.”

  “I needed time to gather my thoughts.”

  It was a pleasant change having a guard of Padrida worried over his safety, but he chose not to tell him his suspicions. At least for a short while, it would be best if everyone thought Donovan had died.

  Especially Olivia.

  Valen stood tall. “The king awaits you at Princess Olivia’s chamber.”

  Sebastian hurried down the corridor. Alwin had taken his place at her door, and the king paced in the hallway. He lifted his head as Sebastian approached.

  “Thank God!” The king grabbed Sebastian’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “Both my wife and daughter weep. I can comfort the queen. However, I fear Olivia will not be eased. She will not speak to me of the night’s events. I pray she will confide in you.” His intent gaze drove deep.

  Sebastian nodded and took a step back. “Of course. Forgive my tardiness.” He bowed low, then arose and offered the king a sad smile. “I shall do all I can for her.”

  “Go to her. Stay with her if you must.” The king cut his eyes to Alwin. “Allow no one to enter her room. And tell not one soul that the prince is within.”

  Alwin dipped his head. “Yes, sire. On my honor.”

  Sebastian rested his hand on the king’
s arm, then motioned him away from Alwin’s hearing. “Your Majesty, I vow I shall not compromise her.”

  “My fear—young prince—is that Donovan already has. I pray I am mistaken.”

  The twisting of Sebastian’s stomach confirmed the king’s fears. Sebastian had already considered the possibility. If Donovan had taken Olivia’s maidenhead, it would destroy their possibility of marriage. What better way could Donovan hurt them both?

  Without speaking, he patted the king’s arm, then crossed the hall to her chamber. Alwin pushed the door open, and Sebastian stepped through.

  His stomach jumped at the click of the lock. Worse yet, his heart broke at the sight of her. Her canopy had been drawn back, and she lay on her bed, curled into a ball like a frightened child. Her eyes were tightly closed, and she sobbed without ceasing.

  He untied the belt at his waist that held his sheath and set aside his sword. Ever-so-slowly, he moved toward her. He doubted she knew of his presence.

  “Olivia,” he whispered.

  She startled and jerked, then rolled over and put her back to him. “Go away,” she mumbled and continued to cry.

  Though it appeared her eyes had opened, in the dim light of the room, she must not have recognized him.

  “Olivia, it is Sebastian.”

  She rose up on one elbow, then turned and faced him. “Sebastian?” Sucking in air, she stretched out her arms.

  He rushed into her embrace and lay down beside her. She clung to him, burrowing into his chest.

  “I am here for you,” he whispered, all the while stroking her hair. He would give her as long as she needed to grieve and tell him what had to be said. And if her words brought him pain, he would grit his teeth and bear them. Somehow, they would overcome this together.

  Finally, she calmed. He repositioned flat on his back, and she nestled into the crook of his arm.

  Their breathing was the only sound in the room.

  After a time, she rose up and looked into his face. She tentatively ran her hand along his beard. Her eyes had swollen from crying, but her beauty was not diminished.

  “Donovan . . .” She swallowed hard, then licked her lips. “Did you capture him?”

  He inhaled deeply. He had to do this for her. “There was no need. He is dead.”

  She gasped.

  “He attempted to cross the bridge,” he went on, forcing himself to say what he thought to be a lie, but hoped to be true. “We heard him scream, then we saw his cloak dangling from a beam at the bridge’s center. He had to have fallen to his death.”

  She arose even farther. “You cannot be certain. Can you?”

  “No man could survive that fall. When the sun rises, we will search for his body.”

  She nestled back down into his arms and the tension in her body lessened. “I must believe he is dead. Otherwise . . .” Her breathing intensified.

  “Yes?”

  “He swore he would bring despair and heartache to us. Both of us. That he would strike unexpectedly and we would never rest for fear of him.” As she spoke, once again she trembled.

  Sebastian pulled her closer. “I shall not allow him to hurt you.”

  “He—he placed a knife to my throat.” Her tears returned. “And then . . .”

  God, please . . . no.

  He held his breath.

  “He touched me.”

  Anger once again took hold of him. It was dangerous to hate a man so vividly.

  Sebastian’s jaw tightened and he clenched his fists.

  “Oh, no, my love,” Olivia whispered. She lifted herself upright and placed small kisses all over his face. “He did not have me. He touched me through the fabric of my gown, but nothing more.”

  “If he lived, I would have his hands cut from his arms before plunging my sword into his chest.” He pounded a fist into the mattress, which gave him little relief. Envisioning Donovan’s hands on Olivia made him want to lash out at something.

  He breathed hard and ground his teeth together. “Damn him.” His temples throbbed, so he rubbed them, but to no avail.

  “I am unharmed,” she whispered in his ear.

  She took hold of his hands, kissed them, then lowered them to the bed. Now, it was she who comforted him. She lay atop him and doused his anger with a warm fervent kiss. And when she pulled back, they stared at one another, breathing heavily.

  This situation had become more dangerous than his trek in the woods.

  “Olivia,” he moaned, and in one swift movement, rolled her onto her back.

  He kissed her deeper and longer than any before. She writhed beneath him, silently crying out for him to take her. Her hands moved down his back, drawing him close.

  “Please,” she rasped and grasped his hips. Her need matched his hunger.

  He had to make a conscious effort to slow his breathing. They could not carry this further. “We cannot.” He gently rolled her onto her back.

  “Why? We are pledged, and Father gave us permission—”

  “To wed. Not to couple. I am bound by law to wait. Though I want nothing more than to break that law.”

  She worked her lower lip with her teeth and resumed her tormenting caress. “You are a prince. Please disobey the law.”

  She had been through such a wretched ordeal, he could easily forgive her temptation. Had she been in her right mind, she would not have pushed him this way.

  He grasped her hand to stop the movement. “Because I love you, tonight I shall hold you and nothing more. You are frightened and I believe that is why you cling to me. I want you, but only when your thoughts are free of fear.”

  * * *

  Olivia closed her eyes, understanding Sebastian’s rejection. He knew her better than she knew herself. That alone confirmed their love. How else could they understand each other so completely in such a short span of time?

  She settled her heart. “Forgive me. One day I shall thank you for delaying our passion, yet in this very moment, I confess my disappointment.”

  When she looked into his eyes for a reaction, she was pleased to see him grin. “No more than I am. I hunger for you like a man starving for food. Waiting for our wedding pains me, in more ways than one.” He gestured downward, prompting her to giggle. “However—”

  She placed her fingers to his lips. “We are doing what is right. Besides, I want the approval of your parents before we marry. Until I know they will accept me, it would not be proper for me to deflower their son."

  “Deflower?” He laughed aloud. “Is that a suitable term for men?”

  “I do not know any other. Can you enlighten me?”

  He stroked her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “I am not certain. Jonah would simply say engaging in the act would finally make me a man.” He cleared his throat. “It is best we change the subject entirely. Perhaps even . . . sleep?”

  “Hmm . . .” Sleep was the last thing on her mind. “Is Jonah a man?”

  “Many times over.” He cast a sideways glance. “You do not wish to change the course of our conversation, do you?”

  “I find everything we discuss intriguing. Even delicate matters. That is what I want for us—to be able to talk about anything. I want you to confide in me all that is on your mind. I have known you for such a short while, but I feel our hearts were joined at our births.”

  He stared upward and grew quiet. Had her words troubled him? She had been horribly unfair to him. In under an hour, she had taken him on an emotional journey no man should have to endure.

  “Sebastian?” She stroked his beard.

  He smiled and eased her fears, and when he took her hand and kissed her palm, she knew all was well. “Yes?”

  “Do you forgive my . . . eagerness?”

  His fingers twirled through her hair. Chills fluttered like butterflies down her back.

  “Forgive?” He laughed. A pleasant sound that made her heart soar. “There is no need. All I ask is that you recall the same eagerness on the night of our wedding and many nights to follow
.”

  “So, you do not object to a bold woman?”

  “As long as it is you, I raise no objections. Truthfully, you are more woman than I ever imagined for myself. Never change who you are, and when we are behind closed doors, be the most brazen woman you wish to be.”

  She sighed. “We are behind closed doors.” She slowly blinked and coyly tilted her head.

  He sat up, plumped the pillow behind him, then crossed his arms over his chest. “You are starting again.”

  She laughed, unexpectedly eased by his presence alone. He already felt like a long-time friend. A true friend. Nothing like the one she had had.

  Donovan was dead and her life could move forward without fear. And once she met the king and queen of Basilia, she would earn their approval and marry their son.

  With a joyful heart, she wiggled into his arms. “I promise to behave. I am ready to sleep now.”

  “And yet I am wide awake.”

  “Then hold me as you said you would, and I shall dream of our wedding.”

  He stroked her back, then kissed the top of her head.

  She settled her body against his and closed her eyes.

  Chapter 32

  Had he slept at all?

  Sebastian stretched, trying to ease the kink in his neck. Olivia had fallen asleep in the crook of his arm and had stayed there for most of the night. He had remained partially upright against the pillows and suffered for it with aching muscles.

  Sometime in the morning hours, she had rolled over, allowing him to get comfortable. Yet, it was short-lived. Guilt weighed on him for not telling her his suspicions about Donovan. Was it wrong not to tell her the man could very well be alive? After all, it was merely a suspicion. Nothing factual.

  Regardless that the sun had not risen, he got up from the bed. Not only did he want to leave her room before others stirred within the castle, he needed to compose a letter while his thoughts were fresh.

  He inched his way from the mattress. A tiny, pleasant moan came from her throat. Though her eyes were closed, her lips formed a smile. Perhaps she was dreaming of him.

  Unable to help himself, he ran his fingers along her dark hair. It flowed over the pillows. He had always assumed he would desire a fair-haired woman like his mother. How wrong he had been.