by Mel Teshco
“Isabella, I…” He paused, took a deep breath and said quietly, “Very well.”
What she never expected was for him to stride forward before taking her in his arms and gathering her close. His mouth dropped onto hers and he kissed her with such restrained tenderness she could have wept.
He pulled back, his stare drinking her in—as though memorizing her every detail, knowing he’d never see her again. “Then I guess this is goodbye, my Bella.”
Chapter Eight
Isabella took a steadying breath as she rode into the all-too-familiar clearing, where forty or fifty mud and wood huts were scattered far below a gentle downward gradient.
It seemed as if it’d been months, not six days ago since she’d ridden out from her village with no room for any other emotion but the vengeance that had burned hot in her veins.
How things had changed. Right then she could have been someone else who was coming home, a person who’d become as different as night was from day.
She only prayed her father hadn’t give up on her being alive, hadn’t given in to his grief.
Her bow and arrows strapped to her back was a reassuring weight and she reached behind to touch them, so very thankful to have them once again. It was the one and only material possession she still had of her brother’s, the one thing she’d wanted of his despite the fact the weapon hadn’t protected Benjamin when he needed it most.
How perverse that Reuben had returned her most prized possession to her, even though he’d been her target, the man she’d aimed to kill.
She’d accepted the bow and arrows from him and strapped them to her back, then sat in the saddle of her borrowed horse, her emotions tangled up inside, tying her tongue and stealing her voice.
With the soldiers looking on and Reuben intense and brooding all at the same time, flight had seemed the only option. Managing a jerky nod as thanks, she’d swung her gelding around and pushed him into a canter, forcing herself not to look back.
If she had she doubted she would have had the strength to leave at all.
I didn’t even say goodbye.
The gelding tossed his head, bringing her back to the present. She relaxed her too-tight grip on the reins and leaned forward, giving the horse a reassuring pat.
She had to stop thinking about Reuben. Being a nightmix, he would never have been a permanent fixture in her life anyway, no matter how much she might wish otherwise. Being royalty made him ten times as out of reach.
A bird called out before it took to the air with a snap of wings. Bees droned overhead, the scent of pine and honey sharp in the air. Wood smoke bit into the air, and though she couldn’t see or hear any human activity, without a doubt lookouts would have seen her coming long ago and warned her dad.
Would her father see the change in her? Would her friends? Dear lord, did she want them to?
The huts looked out of place on the hillside, worn and made tired by the elements, much like the people.
She swallowed, longing for the enduring log cabin she’d left behind, along with the man within it. One of her hands fluttered to her chest. When had the nightmix suddenly become a man?
When I finally saw him for the real person he is underneath. A compassionate, kindhearted person who’d do anything for the people he loves.
As her thoughts wandered she let the weary gelding pick its way through the grass and to the worn trail that led to her father’s house. The two-story structure was the only real house in the village, their merchant background giving them the funds to build something more permanent.
But her dad had found out the hard way that no amount of money in the world could protect the people he loved.
She blew out a shaky breath. At least she could reassure her father that she was alive. At least one of them would be happy at her return.
People began to appear from their huts, their silent stares following her as she rode past. Seemed they were stunned she’d come back alive and in one piece. Or perhaps they sensed her despair.
The door banged open in her house and her father appeared in the doorway, a hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched her approach. Even from a distance she could see his bleary eyes. Goddess, he looked as if he’d aged a decade, his usually neatly trimmed beard scruffy and unkempt, his face lined and hollow.
One of his dogs barked greeting from its kennel nearby, its tail whipping the air. Then her father was running toward her, reaching her even before she dismounted from the horse and all but fell into his arms.
“I don’t believe it,” he said raggedly. “You’re alive. You’re really alive!”
At her silence and the smile she tried to muster, he drew back and peered at her. “You’re okay, aren’t you? When we saw the blood on your horse we thought…” He shook his head, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “That nightmix didn’t find you? Didn’t touch you?”
If he only knew, she thought despairingly.
“Of course not,” she lied. What did it matter if she wasn’t telling the truth? It saved a lot of turmoil and it wasn’t as if her father would ever find out. “I’m just really tired,” she elaborated.
“Of course you are, my darling,” he said, nodding understanding and seemingly uncaring that his eyes were wet. “You can fill me in on all the details after you’ve rested.” Turning to the ever growing crowd of villagers, he pumped a fist into the air and roared, “Tomorrow night we celebrate the return of my daughter!”
Going by the sudden enthusiastic cheers and clapping, everyone was all too happy to revel in her homecoming. Pity she felt nothing short of numb and wanted only to curl into a ball and sob herself to sleep.
Jacob motioned someone forward to take care of her mount. As the gelding clopped away she was grateful her dad refrained from asking where she’d found another mount. And whose extra-large shirt it was that she had on. But she was even more grateful for his supporting arm as he led her to their home.
He’d organized their maid to run a bath on her arrival, and she lay in it for long minutes, luxuriating in the feeling of being clean after almost a day of hard riding. It was only when she lifted a leg to soap her skin that the neat little stiches in her thigh caught her eye.
Reuben had only ever treated her like a princess…his princess.
She heaved an exasperated sigh and clambered out, water sloshing as if an angry sea. She dressed into her usual garb that was blessedly clean, though much looser than what it was six days ago.
Her eyes steered clear of the mirror. She didn’t need to see her weight loss to know she was different. Reuben had turned her from a girl into a woman. A woman with too many yearnings and secrets.
One of the villagers had knocked on the door and kindly left behind a big tureen of chicken and vegetables. Isabella sat at the table with her father, trying her best to be a dutiful daughter and managing three or four mouthfuls of the stew along with a half mug of tea, before she made her excuses and retired to her bedroom.
All she wanted was to lick her wounds in private. All she wanted was to forget the one man her mind couldn’t stop dwelling on.
Tiredness pressed upon her the moment she stretched out on her mattress of cushions. But she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Not with her thoughts going round and round about the man she’d left behind.
But then she closed her eyes and the world around her slipped away.
She cracked open her eyes to full sunshine. A smile pulled at her lips and a strange sense of anticipation filled her belly—until she registered she was back in her own bedroom.
Reuben’s cozy log cabin with its crackling fire was never going to be her home, no matter how much she yearned for it to be. Perverse really that the one place she’d wanted desperately to escape from was now the one place she wanted desperately to be.
She rubbed a hand over her eyes. Reuben would never again loom in her vision with his assessing stare and thoughtful expression. She would never experience the wonder of his kiss, never fall apart i
n his arms as he possessed her with both tenderness and stunning savagery.
Her movements were stiff and uncoordinated when she finally made an effort to get up and pull on some clothes. She grimaced at her weight loss, tying a darfe around her waist to keep her pants from falling down. Though her shirt was baggy, at least it wasn’t about to fall off.
“Ah good, you’re awake at last,” her father said when she walked into the sitting room.
“How long have I been asleep?” she asked, aware his face already looked much more animated than when she’d seen him for the first time yesterday.
“All night and most of the day.” He chuckled.
She put a hand to her mouth, resisting a little smile. The sleeping in thing was getting to be a bit of a habit.
“The men have already been out hunting wild boar and deer for tonight’s celebration,” her father added.
She cleared her throat. “A party really isn’t necessary, Daddy—”
“But it is.” He shook his head, his smile fading fast. “I thought I’d lost you. I nearly went out of my mind with grief! But now you’re back and I realize just how lucky I am that you’re safe.”
If only he knew how close she’d come to dying. Yet another little secret she’d gladly keep to herself.
He took a sip of his hot tea, his stare shrewd. “So how did you survive that long out there on your own?”
“Do we need to talk about that now?” She was no longer in the mood for more lies and half truths, wasn’t in the mood to side-step how wonderful a nightmix had treated her. Her father would never understand. Worse, he’d probably never forgive her.
He nodded, releasing a heavy sigh. “I’ll let it go…for now. Just rest assured that we’ll find the nightmix who eluded us and we’ll slaughter it.”
Her eyes widened in alarm, even though she knew Reuben was safe and back in his kingdom, prince of his domain. “Please don’t,” she whispered. “If there’s one thing I did learn in the time I was away, it’s that I don’t want any more violence and bloodshed.”
Her dad’s brows drew low over narrowed eyes. “My god, Isabella. What happened to you out there?” he asked roughly.
“Survival happened to me,” she said awkwardly, busying herself by pouring more tea from the pot.
His face turned thoughtful. “I’ve had a lot to consider too. And in fact I spent half the night thinking about what was best for my little girl’s future.”
“I’m not your little girl anymore.”
Reuben had seen to that.
Jacob sighed. “Exactly.”
Her hands linked around the warmth of her mug when she asked, “Daddy, what’s this all about?”
One of his thumbs pushed idly back and forward along the lip of his mug. “You’ll find out soon enough. But for now,” a sudden grin split his face, “we have celebrations to attend.”
Isabella returned to her bedroom to find their maid had laid a gown out on her bed. She pressed a hand to her mouth, emotions churning at seeing one of her mother’s best dresses.
Her dad’s footfall sounded behind her. “Your mother would have wanted you to wear it,” he said hoarsely.
She didn’t have the heart to tell him that dressing up in her mother’s finery was the last thing she wanted. But somehow, with the fine white material clinging to her slender shape, the sheer material leaving little to the imagination, she discovered she could pretend she was a princess. And her prince was out there waiting for her.
It was a charade she kept up even after she stepped out the door with her father by her side. Dusk was just settling in, streaks of red and burnt orange on the far horizon. A fire glowed in the distance, where a pair of whole pigs and a deer were roasting, turned by willing hands on a large hand-forged iron spit.
One of the village musicians strummed out sensual notes on a stringed jae. He was accompanied by someone thumping out the heavier beat of a pak pak. Already couples were up and dancing, drinks in hand and laughter spilling free.
“Go on, enjoy yourself,” her dad said, aware of her love for music and dance.
She stepped forward, wishing that her prince really was going to come and rescue her. Except there was nothing he needed to save her from anymore, except her self-pity. Her eyes watered. She pushed back her tears. She’d never been one for crying until recently, she wasn’t about to let it become a habit.
She accepted a drink, and then another. The alcohol, the music, her empty stomach and the supposed joyous occasion all quickly went to her head. One of the men pulled her up to dance around the fire. She couldn’t help but laugh—though she felt almost numb inside. He twirled her around and for a nanosecond she could swear she saw the red eyes of a nightmix through the dark trees.
A short, sharp pain squeezed her chest and for a moment took away her breath.
Madness! Yes, that was it, she was going mad.
Another man downed the last of his drink and joined them on the makeshift dance floor. She giggled, surrendering to a surge of hysteria. She wasn’t dancing with men. They were still boys compared to Reuben. Another manic laugh slipped free, but going by the pleased look on the men’s faces and the light in their stares, it seemed at least one of them imagined they’d be getting lucky tonight.
Her smile dimmed. Goddess, no. Just thinking about being with another man had her belly cramping with nausea.
Reuben stopped in the deep shadows of the trees and stared at Isabella as she danced. Longing warred with deep, dark jealousy at the men crowding around her. But it was the laughter spilling from her lips that caused red-hot pain to pierce his chest.
Had he been wrong about her? Did she not love him the way he loved her?
His beast stirred. He quelled it. But not before he wondered if she’d seen the feral gleam of his red nightmix eyes.
His hands squeezed into fists. For the first time in his life he was tempted to entice his beast out. Not to slay the men who danced with his Bella, but to put fear in their too-seductive stares and uncover the weakness he sensed behind their hearts.
His jaw clenched. Goddess help him, did he really want to incite terror into those he hoped to make peace with?
Guess he was willing to do anything to win her back. He’d known that the moment she’d ridden away from him and taken a piece of his heart with her.
The soldiers hadn’t asked any questions. No doubt they’d been aware of his…condition that’d worsened the farther his horse took him. Every minute that’d ticked by only convinced him more that he couldn’t let her go. Hell, he hadn’t even made it to the edges of the Helbelzcha desert that was his kingdom before commanding the captain of the guards to go on ahead without him—with a signed missive he’d return to the palace within a week.
He only hoped it was enough time to prove to Isabella that they belonged together, wherever that might be.
The music abruptly cut off. His attention—and everyone else’s—turned to the grizzled man who stood on the back of a box wagon, the flame of a torch held aloft.
“Excuse my untimely interruption, my friends,” the man said loudly, before he waved his hand at Isabella. She went to him and he helped her aboard before continuing, “But you are all aware what a momentous occasion this is…my daughter home and safe again.”
So that was her father. Reuben’s eyes narrowed. Life hadn’t been kind to the older man, though he imagined he’d once been a strapping, good-looking man when he’d been in his prime.
Cheering erupted from the partygoers before Isabella’s father continued. “Her coming home at last has, however, made me rethink some things. First and foremost, I’ve come to the realization that my girl is all grown up now. A woman.”
The crowd stayed silent then, especially the young men, hanging on to his every word. Meanwhile the tightness in Reuben’s belly grew more suffocating, his inner beast more insistent.
“And so it’s with no serious thought that I’m relinquishing hold of my daughter. She is free.”
The flames outlined her profile as she shot him what appeared to be a hurt and disbelieving look. “Daddy, what exactly are you saying?”
“Isabella…you need a man…a husband, to look after you.”
Chapter Nine
Disbelief clogged Isabella’s throat, rendering speech impossible. Did he think he’d failed her when she’d gone missing, presumed dead? He couldn’t be further from the truth.
The sudden gasps from her people pulled her attention from her dad to the man who was pushing through the crowd. Her heart skipped a beat. Even without the rakkia robe that swirled around him and bespoke his Zaneean status, he was a man whose very essence reeked of power.
“My thoughts exactly,” Reuben announced, his tone authoritative and blatantly possessive, his eyes glowing faintly with red.
She pressed a hand to her mouth as one emotion piled on top of the other. Hope and exhilaration were fleeting, quickly drowned out by dread and a sense of impending doom. Dear lord, what was he thinking? The nightmix dissenters—the whole village—would soon lose their awe of the intimidating stranger in their midst and instead register the faint red gleam in his eyes.
Her voice cracked, “What are you doing here?”
There was nowhere for him to run with the people who’d gathered around him. But he didn’t seem concerned. Not a bit. “I had to come back,” he said simply. “I almost lost you once, I couldn’t a second time.”
Her belly fluttered, right along with her heart. He was magnificent, mesmerizing. And she loved him so much it almost hurt to breathe.
How was she going to live without him? How could she possibly send him away? Because no matter how much she wanted him, nightmix or royalty, he wasn’t going to stick around, not permanently. Aside from her father, everyone she’d ever loved had left her.
It was just her and her dad now.
Yeah, and even he’s trying to get rid of me.
