Page 5 of Heart of the Raven
My lips parted when I saw him, and my fingers stilled. He stood a few feet away, leaning against a tree and staring off into the wood as though he did not have a care in the world. He was not Lord Brecken, nor did he wear the colors of Brecken’s knights.
Disheveled black hair covered his head and swept across his forehead. From his side profile I could see the impish tilt of his wide lips and his straight nose. Thick lashes framed black eyes. I shivered as my gaze ran the length of his body. He wore a coat made of feathers, patterns with dark green and ivy black that reflected the wildwood. They glistened in the sunlight and my heart beat a pitter-patter. Folding his arms he shifted toward me.
I glimpsed his bare chest, for he wore no shirt underneath his cloak of feathers. Locks of jet black hair slipped across his face and I pushed to my feet, pointing a finger at him. “You’re the man from my dreams!”
A smirk came to his lips. “It’s not every day a beautiful woman faints in my arms and tells me I’m the man from her dreams.”
Rude and cocky. I scowled as I attempted to shake the dust off my arms. My throat was raw from Lord Brecken’s fingers and I ached for a drink of water. “Who are you?” I studied my surroundings and assumed I must be deep in the forest, for no matter which way I peered between the trees, I could see no way out. “Why did you take me?”
His coal-black eyes danced with mischief as he stepped toward me, and I noticed the way he kept his eyes on my face, as though looking anywhere else would lead to temptation. “I’m the man of your dreams, shouldn’t you be ready to go anywhere with me?”
“From my dreams, not of them,” I retorted and wrapped my arms across my chest.
His gaze shifted to the trees, and he bit his bottom lip as though keeping a retort from leaving his tongue. “Listen.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know what happened out there. I heard screams and then I saw the cloud of magic that came out of you.”
The skin on his forehead pinched as he studied me.
I took a shuddering breath, feeling faint again. “You saw that?” My hand went to my stomach. Was the soreness an effect of the magic?
“I bound your magic before more could escape.”
I glanced at his face. A question lay there. He guessed I had started the battle. He assumed it was my fault.
Panic raced through me. “It wasn’t my fault. We were on the road and they attacked us, for no reason. They killed my friends!” I snapped, whirling away from him.
My heart pounded in my throat, and I waited for the sob to burst out of my lips, that sob that never came. Anger often overrode my grief, and it was happening again. I couldn’t weep for them because I was so angry. It was my fault for making a powerful enemy. I’d underestimated Lord Brecken. And what of the magic that had burst out of me? I pressed my hands to my head and moved back and forth, taking deep breaths.
“Hey, hey, hey,” the man whispered, soothing me. “I’m not blaming you. I sensed your magic and when the man attacked you, I came to assist.”
I spun around to study him. “Who are you? And what do you know about magic?”
He lifted his hands. His cloak made his arms look like wings. “I am the Raven.” He bowed.
Raven. A whisper hushed through me, a knowing. I knew this man, not just from my dreams, but. . .my thoughts flitted back to a moonless night. The same night I fled from home. I’d coaxed the horse to jump the fence, and the pounding of hooves startled a bird who’d been watching me. “And?” I shook my head, thoughts chasing each other through my head. I was destitute once again. Should I return to Whispering Vine or proceed to Capern? Regardless, I had to hide. Should I appeal to him for help? I’d seen him in my dreams. He was the one who warned me.
He straightened, confusion crossing his handsome face. “And. What?”
“That’s your name?”
He shrugged. “Call me Raven. And you are?”
“Sasha.”
Mischief glittered in his eyes again, and this time he couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling the length of my body. “Lady Sasha,” he echoed. “How can I be of assistance?”
My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You’re a damsel in distress. I came to your aid but you have powerful magic, which, I must admit, I am attracted to.”
He had the audacity to wink at me and although his words were harmless, I felt the need to slap the smile off his lips. A man offered to help me and the only thing I could think of was slapping him. I licked my lips and paced again. I needed his help.
“Let’s get one thing right,” I said, planting myself in front of him. “I am not a damsel in distress. I am on my way to Capern to meet a relative, and a lord who is angry with me for refusing his hand in marriage attacked me. I need to stay hidden. Will you be my guide to Capern?”
A wide grin covered his lips, showing off his straight white teeth. “A guide to Capern? I accept but,” he held up two fingers, “only if we travel through the forest and you meet with the Queen of the Wildwood and recommend my services to her.”
A bargain. An exchange. Something in it for me and something in it for him. Despite the fairness of such an agreement, a thrumming began in the back of my mind. My throat ached again, and I desperately wanted water. “Why the Queen of the Wildwood?” I whispered. Would speaking her name aloud summon her?
I hoped not, for I knew who she was. A powerful queen who controlled the evil that dwelt in the wildwood, the same queen who often spoke with my cousin. They had an alliance, and I wanted nothing to do with it.
