by Tia Fanning
Stoyan turned back to me. Even in the darkness, I could see his eyes boring into mine, his mind struggling to figure out this change in events.
Damn. I couldn’t even explain it to myself. I mean, we were ex-betroths, yet married. There was just as much pain and anger between us as there was love and desire. We had a long history together, and a long list of unresolved issues. We hadn’t seen each other in twelve years, but it felt as if we’d never been apart.
I slid my hand behind his head, gently pulling his face toward mine. I pressed my lips lightly against his, initiating the second kiss of my life.
Instantly, his tongue found its way past my lips. I moaned as his warm mouth assaulted mine in a frenzy of passion. He tasted so wonderful.
My heart raced as his hand slid up my pajama top and rested between my breasts. I arched up and put my arm around his back, tugging him down upon me so his large, hard body covered mine. Butterflies flapped in my stomach and moisture gathered between my thighs. I needed more of… something.
Though he was pressed against me, nothing but the fabric of his t-shirt and boxers and my pajamas between us, it was still too much distance.
He trailed kisses across my checks and down my neck, his hands moved over my breasts, caressing them.
I wanted these damn pajamas off. I wanted his skin to touch my skin. I wanted to become one with him.
Pajamas?
How in the hell did I get into my Pajamas?
Should I care?
Yes, I should.
My cheeks flamed in embarrassment and self-consciousness replaced my building desire. Stoyan must have dressed me—or undressed me and redressed me. What kind of underwear did I put on this morning? Shit, probably white granny panties.
As his fingers slid over my nipples, I realized I no longer had a bra on.
Son of a bitch.
Control your temper, Katia.
I gently nudged him up off me. Even in the shadows, I saw him look at me expectantly.
“I need to… um… take a shower,” I stuttered breathlessly, knowing it sounded like the lamest excuse ever.
He nodded, and allowed me to get up.
Stoyan remained in bed as I made my way to my bathroom. Even though my back was turned, I could feel his gaze searing me, igniting my blood. My anxiety level shot up so much I heard buzzing in my ears.
Shaking, I closed the door behind me and locked it. After turning on the shower, I shucked off my pj’s and climbed into the hot, streaming spray, willing the water to wash away all the confusion surging through my body.
I was an emotional mess. I was sad. I was scared. I was nervous. I was horny.
I couldn’t believe I had almost had sex for the first time with a man I hadn’t seen in twelve years. I mean, really. Out of nowhere, Stoyan shows up at my door and saves me from a ghost. Then with the first words out of his mouth, insults me, and worse, defends his rude remarks by claiming to be my husband via a ceremony I wasn’t even present for.
And I almost slept with him?
How fucked up am I?
Shit! How could I have allowed things to go so far?
I really needed to get some control of myself. For over a decade I’d never felt the need for companionship. Hence, my state of virginity. But Stoyan comes back into my life uninvited, and I act like a cheap slut.
What if I had given him my virginity?
Then the matrimonial ceremony would’ve been completed.
Then he would’ve tried to take me away to wherever he lived and expect me to act like a wife. To love, honor and obey him.
Oh, hell no…
And he’d want me to bear his children, too.
I don’t want children. What if they inherited my gifts?
No, I would never wish this curse of mine on someone else, especially my own flesh and blood. Stoyan and I just couldn’t happen. I had to put a stop to this—to us.
I know he wouldn’t listen to reason, so I’d do what I was best at, which was running away.
I had no choice. I would have to leave. And soon.
Chapter Four
After donning a bathrobe, I left the bathroom, trying to think of something to say to the man in my bed. Luckily, Fate was with me—Stoyan was asleep. I quietly tiptoed past him and made my way to the kitchen.
I about died.
The place was cleaned up! If not for the thin, clear plastic sheet covering the broken windowpanes on the French doors, it would seem that nothing had happened there at all.
I rushed into the living room next. Cleaned too!
A husband who cleans…who would have thought?
Ugh! He’s not my husband.
Returning to the kitchen, I started a pot of coffee and glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning. Oh well, I’d slept enough and God knows I didn’t want any more dreams.
While the coffee brewed, I carefully opened the patio doors, wincing when they creaked. I froze in place and listened. No sound from came from the bedroom.
Good.
I went out onto the deck, but didn’t close the door behind me for fear the battered wood would let out another groan. The first thing I noticed, to my surprise, was the patio furniture. Wow, Stoyan had even thought of that.
It was harder to hate him when he was so thoughtful.
Waking past the patio furniture, I approached the railing and glanced up at the clear night sky, then let out a heavy sigh when I noticed the full moon. Just another reminder of how I was not a normal person.
I swear, the bright white orb was taunting me.
How could something so beautiful be so dangerous? I followed the moon’s eerie glow down to its wavering reflection on the lake’s surface. I glanced around my lawn, and then let my gaze wander to the forest that surrounded my isolated haven.
When I purchased the cabin, I never thought to ask if any usual animal attacks had happened in these parts. Scanning the tree line, I tried to peer through the shadows. Was there any movement? Not that I could tell.
What were the odds of a shifter roaming somewhere in there?
Of course it was possible, since most people suffering from moon madness tended to live in out-of-the-way areas, hoping to better guard their secret. However, being that there were not many homes around here, each dwelling separated by miles of forest and dirt roads, it was unlikely that one of my remote neighbors suffered from such a rare affliction.
In the distance, a lone howl filled the crisp air, as if to disagree with my assessment.
I hugged myself to stop the chill racing up my spine. My luck couldn’t be that bad, could it?
So what, I told myself. There’s a wolf around, no big deal. It didn’t mean it was a shifter. It could be just a normal, average, everyday wolf. Anyway, unlike the movies, shifters tended to stay in their own territory, and like real wolves, rarely made an appearance in well-lit or populated areas.
But unlike real wolves, shifters were slightly larger.
Okay, and slightly smarter, or so I was told.
And extremely aggressive.
In all my twenty-eight years, I’d never encountered one, so why would I now? Did I not flee my village the night of the full moon? Nothing happened to me then, and there was supposed to be a pack of werewolves running around in that forest. I liked to think that if I was destined to be screwed by a shifter in its wolf form, it would have happened when the odds were at their greatest.
Maybe the elders were wrong about my scent.
Matter of fact…where was Charlie? I hadn’t seen him yet.
I whistled low, hoping that he didn’t run too far from home when Stoyan ordered him out earlier.
I heard a whimpered response
I whistled again.
Another whimper followed by the sound of crackling vegetation.
My eyes were drawn to the lakeshore. Even with the moonlight, I couldn’t see my dog, but the violent swaying of tall grass and overgrown reeds alerted me to his location.
“Charlie!
Get out of there!” I hissed.
The rustling continued, making its way toward the old boat dock.
“Charlie! Come here!”
The hair on the back of my neck rose. The dock entrance was covered with the same flora that ran along the shore. I suddenly regretted not taking the time to clear it out.
I heard the pitter-patter of paws on wood.
“Charlie?” I called softly.
Suddenly a four-legged shadow emerged onto the dock and made its way down the path of planked wood. A chilly breeze rose, fluttering my hair and robe.
Charlie stopped, then instantly crouched low, a growl emanating from his throat. My heart leapt in my chest as another shadow materialized at the dock’s end.
Oh, my God!
“Charlie!” I screamed.
The shadow moved, quick as lighting, and was next to Charlie’s form in an instant.
I sprinted for the deck’s stairs.
“No, Katia! Stop!” I heard behind me.
I didn’t care what Stoyan wanted. Charlie needed me.
Down the steps and I was off, cold damp grass under swift bare feet. A tingling sensation raced through my body. The closer I got to the lake, the more my body hummed with energy.
Charlie whelped.
I was almost there. My body was throbbing all over now. I felt a jolt, then nothing.
A strong hand wrapped itself on my upper arm and jerked me back. “Don’t cross the barrier.”
Another jolt and the throbbing returned.
In the distance, I heard a giant splash.
“Charlie!”
Instantly, the pale dead kid was right in front of me, his black eyes and long razor teeth just inches from my face.
With a gasp, I fell back into a hard chest. Large muscular arms wrapped around and steadied me.
“We are on the edge of the safety barrier. He cannot pass it,” Stoyan whispered in my ear. “Not yet.”
“Yet?” I croaked.
“The spirit grows stronger. And more so now, since he was so close to reaching you tonight. Sooner or later, he will be powerful enough to pass through.”
“I thought you banished him.”
“I banished him from the house and set the barrier, but he is not haunting the house, he is haunting you. I cannot banish him from a moving, living person. Once you leave the protection of the barrier, if he so chooses, he may come to you again.”
Protection… Oh, Charlie…
My poor sweet friend. My only family.
Shaking with grief and fury, I pulled myself out of Stoyan’s hold and confronted the kid. “You little bastard! I’ll get you for this!”
The ghost stared at me blankly, seemingly unmoved by my threats or the tears sliding down my face.
Stoyan tugged on my arm. “Come, Katia. Let us go inside.”
I wrenched out of his grasp. “Fuck that.”
Was this my life? Why should I have to live this way? I lost the one thing I cared about. I was alone again.
“You are never alone, Katia. You have never been alone.”
I spun around. “Mother fucker. You can read my mind.”
I found out instantly that Stoyan did not appreciate being called a ‘mother fucker’. He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the house.
“I do not like the way you speak to me. I understand that here in America, these words are acceptable. However, I know you were raised better. I am your husband and you should speak to me with some respect.”
“Let go of me,” I demanded.
He dragged me up the stairs. “To answer your question, no, I cannot read your mind, but yes, I can hear your heart when it speaks.”
I tried to free my arm from his tight grip. “What the hell does that mean?”
He guided me to the kitchenette and nudged me down on a chair before releasing me. “It means that when you are thinking from your heart, I can hear you. If you have a random thought about what to eat for dinner, I cannot hear that.”
Stoyan closed the patio door and locked it, then went to the cabinet and removed two mugs.
Friggin wonderful. Not only was he invading my life, he was also invading my thoughts. With him around, I guess I could kiss my freedom and my privacy goodbye.
I’ll be leaving soon anyway.
Crap! Could he hear that?
I studied my ex-betrothed. If he heard me, he showed no outward sign of it.
After setting the table with napkins, spoons, cream and sugar, he placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of me. He sat down in the chair next to mine, his own cup in hand. We didn’t say anything to each other for a while.
I cried silent tears, thinking about my friend. I really missed Charlie.
Finally, Stoyan broke the silence.
“Katia, I know you feel like you are alone, but I am here. True, we will have difficult times ahead of us. There is so much we have to catch up on, so many years lost, and we will have to work hard to rebuild the trust we once had between us.”
I rolled my eyes. Who cared? Why did he want to talk about it now? I was on some ghost kid’s hit list and I just lost my best friend. I missed Charlie so much it was hard to breathe.
Stoyan reached over caressed my hair. “I know, love, but don’t be sad. You have no reason to be. Do you trust that I tell you the truth?”
Yes… um… no.
I didn’t respond. I was torn. My first instinct was to believe him, but I can’t believe in my instincts anymore. Too many horrible events had happened to me in the last twenty-four hours to even think straight.
I loved Stoyan as much as I hated him. I knew that.
They say there’s a thin line between love and hate, and that you have to care about someone before you can truly hate them. If you didn’t care, you’d be indifferent to them. Why couldn’t I be indifferent?
Stoyan placed his hand over mine. “There is something I need to tell you. About you, about me, about you being alone all these years. It is important that you know the truth. I want nothing hidden between us.”
Shaking my head, I pulled my hand away. “Look, save it for another day. Actually, don’t bother. There’s nothing between us, nothing to work out. I know you think you’re my husband, but you’re not. Okay? So please, just let me grieve in peace.”
Stoyan nodded and placed his coffee down. He rose from his seat.
I watched him go to the French doors and open them wide. The cool night air rushed in. Then the most usual sound came from the deck—the sound of quick thumping on wood.
A wet animal rushed into the kitchen.
“Charlie!”
I slid off my chair and dropped to my knees. Charlie leapt on top of me, licking my face and dampening my robe with water. I hugged him tight, my tears of sorrow now tears of joy.
Don’t be sad. You have no reason to be. Do you trust that I tell you the truth?
I gave Stoyan an accusatory glare. Did the man get off on seeing me miserable?
“Why didn’t you tell me that Charlie was still alive?”
“I could not because it would have violated one of your rules.”
“What?”
“I cannot tell you the future. If not for my gifts, I, like you, would have thought your dog dead.”
“Bullshit.”
Stoyan raised his eyebrow. “And if I was not here? Would you have figured on your own that Charlie was alive and well before he appeared on the deck?”
I knew the answer was no, so I lashed out in another way. “It’s a stupid rule. Everyone else in the world can have their future read, but I have to stumble through my life without guidance.”
“You have guidance,” he stated softly.
“Really? What guidance is that?” I snapped.
“You have your rules.”
“Oh yeah, the fucking rules. You can’t do this, Katia. You can’t do that, Katia. Never look in a dark mirror, Katia, or a spirit might possess you. Never pick up anything off the ground or there might be Djinn attached who�
�ll steal you away. Never go into the forest at night during a full moon, or some werewolf might try to fuck you.”
“Enough, Katia.”
I rose to my feet. “Screw you, Stoyan. You’ve no idea what it’s like to be me. Your life has been peachy easy.”
He slammed the French doors closed. “Are you so sure?”
Charlie whimpered and left the kitchen, hightailing himself to the bedroom. As much as I wanted to follow my dog, I could feel the anger radiating off Stoyan, so I thought it best to stay. For some reason, seeing his anger cooled my own. Stoyan, as I remember him, rarely lost control.
He leveled me with a hard stare. “I was eight when the responsibility of protector was thrust upon my shoulders. I did not get a say as to whether or not I wanted to be a protector. While other kids were playing, I spent my free time locked away with the elders, strengthening my gifts and memorizing spells so I could better protect you. You talk about not having friends and being alone, yet if I wasn’t with the elders, I was with you.”
I shook my head in disagreement. “You went to college overseas. I’m sure you had friends there, or the very least a roommate. I’m sure there were parties you went to…” and lovers that I don’t want to know about.
Stoyan gave a hollow laugh. “Oh, yes. School. Because not only did I have to meet my responsibilities to you as a protector, but had to fulfill my obligations to my father as his heir. Though we are estranged, I continue to do my duty to him. Upon his retirement two years ago, I took over my father’s mining empire, his many investments, and other business ventures.”
I was shocked to hear that Stoyan was estranged from his father. I couldn’t imagine why. They had been so close.
I’d only met Stoyan’s father, Stylianos, a few times, but the man was warm and kind. He always greeted me with a smile, a bear hug, and a gift. Though Stoyan and I were only engaged, he had always called me daughter. He was probably the closest thing I had to a father of my own.
At least, so I’d thought until the day my great-grandma died.
But I’m not bitter.
Well, not too much. Just a little.
Through the years, I had lost most of the anger that I once held against Stylianos’ for his role in the betrayal of that day.
