Page 11 of Heart of the Raven
The knife fell and landed with a thud in a patch of heather. I was so close to him, I could see his liquid gaze, the slow return to sanity while his fingers shook. His jaw clenched and unclenched as the battle within him took place. I stood still, aware that in one moment he could squeeze the life out of me, or refrain.
Oh Goddess. I hoped he wouldn’t slay me. What if I had made a mistake? The silence stretched between us until I was conscious of nothing more than his labored breath. His eyes glistened as they returned to normal and his shoulders slumped. He collasped to his knees in front of me, hands pressed together as though I were the great Goddess who formed the wildwood.
“Why did you do that?” he murmured. “Why didn’t you run? I could have killed you.”
I desperately wanted to touch him, to bring him some comfort. He looked so miserable kneeling on the ground, his face ashen as he looked around and saw what he had done in his anger. An anger I did not blame him for.
“But you didn’t,” I studied the arch of his nose, the line of his powerful jaw. “You did not touch a hair on my head.”
He stared at me in wonder, his mouth opening and closing before he formed more words. “No one believes I can change.”
“No. Words mean nothing unless you have actions to prove them.” The words seemed to come to me, but not on my own.
He lifted a hand, his fingers touching mine, gently, hesitantly. Tipping back his head, he studied me, and I saw, not the confident, cocky man I’d met in the forest, but a lost soul, searching for a place to belong. A lump formed in my throat and tears filled my eyes again, but this time not of fright, but of understanding. For I felt the same way, like a lost soul, searching for meaning, purpose, a place to call home. Perhaps that’s why he wanted me to speak to the Queen of the Wildwood, because it was Her who could restore purpose to his life. And if that’s what he wanted, nay, what he needed, who was I to stand between him and his desires?
“Your shoulder is bleeding,” I said, “and it’s only midday. We have to meet the Queen of the Wildwood and neither of us are presentable to stand in her court.”
“Ah.” The soulful look left his eyes as he stood. “Come, Lady Sasha, the day is wasting.”
Chapter Eleven
A new silencerose between us, as though what had happened had united us somehow, someway.
Raven pulled the remains of the arrow out of his shoulder and we continued on.
Aside from being approached by those dark creatures earlier, the forest was calm, although an ominous aura hung in the air. At any moment I expected something terrible would pop out from behind a tree. But nothing else did.
It was late afternoon when we came upon a grassy knoll, and Raven paused. He pointed to the thicket up ahead, where a strange glow hovered. “We’re almost to the mushroom forest where we’ll rest for the night. I think you’ll enjoy sleeping on a bed again.” He gave me a crooked smile. “I must admit, I expected more complaints from you.”
I frowned, although I found it impossible to be frustrated with him and folding my arms across my chest. “Do you think I am one of those spoiled noblewomen?”
He gave me an impish wink. “You looked like one when I found you, although now,” he gestured at the borrowed clothes, “not so much.”
I pressed my lips together and sighed. “The problem with being a noblewoman is people look at me and make assumptions. They assume I am proud, haughty, and spoiled, but they don’t take the time to get to know me.”
“Perhaps you won’t let them,” Raven dropped his voice and headed for the thicket.
We weaved between the woods until the trees gave way, as though they were opening a secret door to another land. I peered through and gasped. Brown and white mushrooms rose as tall as the trees, with thick stalks I could hardly wrap my arms around. It was dark in that hollow, with moss, dirt and even mold growing along the ground. But what made me gasp was the luminous way the mushrooms lit up the wood. The bottom of each mushroom head glowed purple and blue, while water droplets hovered on top, adding a rainbow effect to the thicket. Lightning bugs chased each other, and the low hush of water flowing gently over a riverbank. I pressed a hand to my heart, both awed and confused why such beauty existed in the wildwood. I’d thought it was dark, evil, and yet it held such charm as this.
When I glanced at Raven, he was studying me with an expression I could not read. “It’s beautiful,” I breathed, stepping closer to him. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Because you believe.” He spread his hand out to indicate the wood. “Although there is darkness, and evil, there is another side. Beauty and light. Let me show you.” He held out his hand and give me a playful bow.
Heat stirred within my belly, both at his words and the intoxicating pull of his presence. My gaze lingered on his mouth, and my cheeks flushed as I wondered how his lips against mine would feel. What sensations would they create within me?
I took his hand, as though he were my guide to another world, and stepped across the barrier into the mushroom forest. The ground was soft and sank beneath my feet, but Raven led me to stepping stones that curved deeper into the wood. I wanted to ask where we were going, but words would not leave my lips. I thought I caught sight of creatures with impossibly fast wings zing through the air. Faeries?
We followed the stones, hand in hand, while my heart beat faster and a flutter of arousal surged through me. I fought to keep control of my emotions. He was just a guide. Soon all this would be over. An uncomfortable trip through the wildwood, a meeting with the queen, and then the road to Capern and a return to civilization. Our lives were different, impossible. I belonged in a castle, being waited on hand and foot, while he belonged out here in the wild, killing and roaming, serving at the whim of the Queen of the Wildwood. But the lights in the glade made me believe in a dream I could never have. Where love, desire, and passion were mixed and I could discover the heights of pleasure. An intense yearning rose within me and when he opened a door, I almost stumbled into him.
My gaze was drawn upward to the pulsing light of a pale pink mushroom cap, a few feet above us. An arched door opened into the heart of the oversized mushroom and I stepped inside, into darkness.
“Wait here.” Raven let go of my hand.
A moment later, soft yellow light filled the area, as though a hundred lightning bugs danced within. The mushroom house was nothing like the great, spiraling castle of my cousin, nor the grand manor house I lived in with my parents. It was a circular room, cozy, with heaps of furs lining the floor and a small, circular table in the middle at knee height.
Tangled green vines hung down from the walls of the mushroom and the scent of lavender hung in the air. It was soothing, a welcome change to the potent scent of mushrooms.
“It’s warm, dry, you will be comfortable here,” Raven said. “The top of the table comes up. Inside you will find food and water. Rest here.”
