Page 38 of Married By Treachery

It was a stag with a very impressive spread of antlers.

A chill swept over her skin, head to toe. The stag lay on the ground panting, each breath a struggle, and pain shone in its large round eyes.

Half of its flesh had been eaten away.

Raquel stared in horror. This was even worse than her dream. It looked as though the stag were being eaten alive, its body consumed by some pitch-like black substance that had already eaten through two of its legs to the bone and left half of its ribcage exposed to the elements.

Almighty in heaven…

Jake dropped to his knees on the ground, a somber set to his shoulders.

In a flash, Raquel saw the Jake in her dreams. The one with his head bent and vulnerability spilling down his cheeks. However, this time, Banon was there, andthisJake was not crying.

But there was a deep and touching sadness in his eyes.

Raquel resisted the urge to go to him as Dream Raquel had done. Her dreams were always different. Sometimes showing events as they had or would happen. Sometimes showing poetic interpretations of a moment.

This was obviously the latter.

She watched Jake as he placed his palms to the stag’s exposed ribs, as he slid them tenderly along the stag’s spine, murmuring things Raquel could not hear. A creak overhead drew her attention to the trees, where those branches grew bolder, searching and reaching like serpents, as if seizing an opportunity.

Jake’s head was still bowed, and Banon did not notice.

“Jake,” Raquel said quietly, not wanting to disrupt this moment and whatever Jake was doing but also needing to get his attention.

Those branches reached lower, curling and twisting like vines. Something snagged her hair.

She jumped away and shrieked, “Jake!”

Jake looked back at her, his eyes widened then narrowed, and he thrust his palm forward. A burst of air blasted forth, scattering dead needles and leaves until it pushed right over Raquel with so much force that her braid whipped straight back like a golden pendant.

There was a soft, keening hiss, like hot embers doused with water, and all of those reaching branches snapped back to their proper places.

Jake stared hard at her, as if checking for signs of injury. Satisfied, he looked back to the stag.

Raquel let out a shuddering breath and approached.

If Jake heard her, he didn’t show it. His hands were on the stag, his eyes closed as he murmured strings of words in a language Raquel did not know but found beautiful. A grim Banon stood over them, his eyes now trained on the trees, but when Raquel neared, he acknowledged her with a stiff nod.

Jake stopped murmuring, and Raquel felt a sudden ripple of power. A push of warmth and heat and energy. The stag fell still, finally at peace, its eyes staring blankly, its head slumped.

Jake bowed his head, and he didn’t move.

Banon turned away, caught Raquel’s gaze, and gestured for her to follow. To leave Jake alone, to give him space. Raquel glanced at the others, then back at Jake, at the cursed stag lying dead on the ground at Jake’s knees.

I cannot stop it.

Raquel slipped the rose from her corset, stepped around Jake, and lay the rose upon the stag.

When she glanced back, Jake’s eyes were open and fixed upon her.

She opened her lips to say something, to bring comfort as Dream Raquel would have done, but she was not Dream Raquel, and he was not Dream Jake, and so she closed her mouth instead, letting the rose give all the comfort her words could not. She started back for the group, but as she passed Jake by, he grabbed her hand and held it tight.

She glanced down at him, and he looked up at her, his eyes darker than she had ever seen.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Raquel’s heart melted a little.

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