Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Village of Falkrith
Dar’s Cottage
Elara woke with a start, disoriented, her eyes going wide seeing Dar’s hands reaching out to her as if ready to strangle her.
She jerked upright with a sharp breath, her heart pounding as she scrambled backward off the bed.
She barely landed on her feet, his hand grabbing her arm, stopping her from fleeing.
“Easy, Elara, it was not you I reached for,” he explained, his hand resting at her waist after releasing her arm.
The gentle weight of his hand slowed her thundering heartbeat. “If you weren’t reaching for me then…” She let the question hang there.
He glanced at the fire that burned low, embers glowing faintly, smoke curling lazily up the chimney. Nothing hovered there now. Nothing stirred.
She grew concerned when his jaw tightened and his eyes sparked with a hint of anger.
His hand slipped around her waist, drawing her closer. “The healer was here, hovering over you.”
A chill crept over her, prickling her skin. “You saw her?”
“Aye, I saw it just after I entered. It hovered above you, dark and looking as if it was about to devour you. When I moved, it turned and shook its finger at me.”
Her brow creased. “Why would she hover over me? I am not ill. I wonder if she was trying to tell me something. She certainly had a message for you—stay away.”
His own brow narrowed. “You don’t believe it meant you harm?”
“She is a healer. She wouldn’t inflict harm.”
“You don’t know that,” he argued. “If it is born of dark magic and has the power over death, then there is no telling how dangerous it might be.”
Elara shook her head. “I don’t agree. If she wanted to harm me, she could have easily done so by now, and she hasn’t. She only warns me and now you as well. She warns us to stay away, not find her, but why? Why if she can help does she stay hidden?”
“A good question and one we need to find the answer to.”
“Perhaps we will find it easier than I thought.”
“How so?” he asked.
“She has warned us to stay away. We can’t do that and since we can’t—”
“It will visit us again,” Dar finished. “Unless this was her last warning.”
“Need I remind you that she—not it—is a healer and will bring harm to none?”
“Need I remind you she is born of dark magic and can do us great harm?” he countered.
“She healed Muir’s arm and she did not have to. There is more to her than we know, then anyone knows and I am very eager to meet her.”
“Not without me you won’t,” he ordered sternly.
She smiled softly. “I don’t believe that is a decision left to you.”
He went to argue and held his tongue. Whatever he saw had magical power and as strong and skilled a warrior as he was, he was not powerful enough to fight against magic, especially dark magic. It was the reason such magic was banished to Driochmor. One place Hunters didn’t go.
Elara rested her hand lightly on Dar’s arm. “I truly don’t believe she means to do us harm. She could be on a mission herself and warns us against interfering in it.”
He tried to remain focused, but her light touch stirred his desire for her. A desire that had been growing more intense lately.
“That could raise a whole different problem,” he said, forcing himself to concentrate on the problem at hand. “What if this healer, if she is that, is not aligned with King Dravic?”
“A good reason for us to accomplish our mission and find out what is behind her sudden appearance.”
“The king’s mandate leaves us no choice,” he reminded. “You are an herb-scribe. Is there anything that can be taken to protect against dark magic?”
“Many rely on talismans comprised of certain stones, obsidian and amethyst being the most powerful for protection. Mugwort and nettle ward off evil spirits. Some healers travel with rowan staffs since they are a good defense against witches. But there is one thing that is the best protection when it comes to fighting evil.”
“Tell me,” Dar said eagerly, “and I will see that we have an abundance of it.”
“We are already armed with it… knowledge.”
He glared at her.
She reached up and gently rubbed the lines that had deepened between his eyes.
“Knowledge is free to all, but few partake of it. The more you learn, the more you understand, the more likely you are to succeed in whatever task presents itself. The more we learn about this exceptional healer, the more about her will make sense and could help us find her.”
“And what if she proves to be of dark magic?”
“Then we will need to learn what dark magic she possesses so we may counter it.”
“That was tried and failed, and it is the reason all magic was banished to the forbidden land, Driochmor.”
Elara shook her head. “Think of what you say, what most believe. That all magic was banished. Do you truly believe magic could be banished?”
“It was banished,” he insisted.
It was a debate left for another time and one she knew was dangerous to even consider.
“I will get us rowan sticks and Hunters have daggers with obsidian blades. I can gather a few and you will collect those herbs you mentioned. All of that together should offer us good protection against evil.”
“You have a healer here with a garden?” she asked surprised.
“Nay, no healer. We seek out Regina, Gorman’s wife. She has a large garden and knows enough to treat minor ailments. For anything more than that we visit the healer in the nearest Leighfeld village… Swithin.”
“I look forward to meeting her and seeing her garden.”
“See to it first thing in the morn. We cannot linger here. We need to see this mission done.” He went to step away from her, but her hand tightened on his arm.
He glanced down at her hand then up at eyes, seeing uncertainty there.
“You didn’t hesitate,” she said quietly.
His voice came low. “About?”
“When you saw the dark figure,” she said. “You didn’t stop to question what it was. Or why it was there. You reached for it. Why?”
He paused briefly, then as if declaring an edict, said, “You are my responsibility.”
Her brow narrowed in question. “That is a Hunter’s answer. I prefer a husband’s answer.”
“There is no difference.”
“So, you will always be a Hunter not a husband?”
“You play with words, wife,” he cautioned.
“And you played a wanderer quite well, perhaps you can play at being a husband from time to time,” she said with a teasing smile.
“And will you play at being a wife?” He didn’t smile or tease.
That caught her off guard and yet she responded quickly. “I can try, if you will play at being a husband.”
He leaned his face close to hers. “I would… but I don’t know how.”
That he would admit such a personal thing touched her heart. “Then we face the same dilemma, for I know nothing about being a wife. I have only known what it is to be an herb-scribe.”
“And I only know what it is to be a fierce Hunter.”
“Then—perhaps—we can learn together,” she offered softly.
“Aye, together,” he whispered and touched his lips to hers.
It wasn’t only his kiss that sparked something in her, it was their words. It sounded as if they committed to each other freely, a bonding of sorts, a pledge to make their marriage work.
His kiss felt different or perhaps it was her who felt different, and she did.
He had protected her from the moment they met and continued to do so without hesitation.
He hadn’t thought twice about charging at the dark figure to save her.
And that he did that without regard to his own safety meant more than him being just a Hunter.
There was something that connected them and had since they first met.
And it was time for her, for them both, to embrace it.
She felt as though she freed herself from some invisible constraint and she allowed herself the freedom to truly kiss him.
Her body relaxed against his and she kissed him with an eagerness she didn’t know she possessed.
A spark flared in her body and ran through her, igniting a passion she was aware of but had never experienced until now.
His hand settled on her backside, squeezing it as he pressed her hard against him.
She felt his shaft thick and stiff against her.
He tore his lips away from hers. “Join with me and seal our vows forever.”
He didn’t command, he gave her a choice, made a commitment… forever.
There was no thought to deny him or herself. They were husband and wife and the sooner they lived that truth, the sooner they would have a good marriage, something that had been predicted by more than one healer.
“Aye, husband, I will join with you,” she whispered.
Dar stepped away from her and began to shed his garments.
Elara stood there staring at him for a moment.
He reached out, placing his hand against her cheek gently. “Trust me and trust yourself.”
His words soothed any apprehension, any doubt she might have vanished, and she let herself trust.
He finished shedding his garments, then he helped her with hers, his hands gentle, not rushing, brushing over her arm and along her waist and hip. Each time it sent a shiver through her, not from feeling chilled but from passion that began to heat her body.
It was good Hunters had patience since he’d rather toss her down on the bed and satisfy an overwhelming need he’d never felt as strongly before now.
How he would ever get enough of her, he didn’t know.
He only knew his need for her was far greater than he had ever felt for any woman.
And it was a different need, a need to claim her as his alone and it so overpowered him that he felt a rage that someone else would dare touch her. She belonged to him, only him.
When she finally was naked, he scooped her up in his arms. “You are mine. Always remember that.”
“And you?” she asked.
“I belong to you and only you, and I always will.”
Why that brought joy to her… she didn’t know. She only knew it did, and she tucked his declaration tight inside her.
He placed her on the bed and stretched out beside her and his hand began to roam over her, feather-light, barely brushing her skin.
It sent a shiver through her, and she instinctively arched against his touch, eager to feel more.
That she responded so easily made it that more pleasurable and he continued to explore her body, aching to touch and know every part of her.
He was surprised when she did the same, reaching out to run her hand over his chest and wrap around to slip along his back. His skin prickled with pleasure and his shaft hardened even more.
Slow and easy they explored each other, he drawing moans from her when his lips settled on one nipple then another. And she elicited a moan from him when her hand drifted down and fumbled to take hold of his shaft and drew an even stronger moan from him when she began to stroke it.
They explored, stroked, tasted, kissed until they could contain themselves no more.
“I need you,” Elara said in a heavy whisper.
“Aye, and I you,” Dar said, it sounding more like a growl.
He raised himself over her, settling between her legs that she spread wide in anticipation and need. He didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t, his need as great as hers.
Plunge after plunge drove her to what she was certain had to be a glorious madness with no desire to escape until it reached a height that could only be satisfied with a sudden tumble off a ledge that had her screaming out his name.
His own roar followed soon after hers and echoed in her ears, making her plunge that more enjoyable.
It was an insane satisfaction that left one breathless and thinking how she looked forward to tumbling off the ledge again and again.
After a few moments, he rolled off her and the sudden chill that struck her body had her turning on her side and pressing against him to seek his warmth.
His arm went around her and cradled her close. Her shiver had him reaching for the blankets to draw over them and he settled once again with her tucked against him.
“We will do well together, wife,” he said, feeling a pleasure that no hunt had ever brought him.
“Aye, husband,” she said, her heart finally slowing its pace and realizing that he was right. Though the only reason it would was because she realized… she loved him. How that could be, she didn’t know and one, at the moment, she didn’t wish to question.
Sleep soon claimed Elara and Dar kept her tucked against him, listening to her soft breathing. He didn’t want to let her go. He wouldn’t let her go.
He didn’t know what it was he was feeling for her.
He only knew it brought him pleasure and pleasure, for a Hunter, usually came with a hunt.
Elara was no prey, maybe in the beginning she had been, but that had changed not long after he met her.
And he was glad for it, glad she was in his life, glad she was his wife, glad they would have a life together.
He shook his head. He had to remember who he was… a Hunter. A Hunter who would one day rule the Hunters of Venngraith like his da and his da before him and all the ones before them. It was his destiny.
Yet, at the moment, all he could think was that his destiny was… Elara.