18. 16
16
Draven
A ll my senses are focused on the raven-haired beauty in my arms, her lithe body pressed intimately to mine against the crumbling stone wall. Thorn meets my passionate kisses with equal fervor, our tongues tangling in a primal dance. I can still taste the metallic tang of my blood on her lips from when she fed moments before, taking just enough to regain her strength. The memory sends a spike of longing through me.
I smooth back her windswept obsidian locks, marveling that this extraordinary woman is in my arms right now and that she trusts me enough to show me her vulnerabilities, to take what she needs from me. The connection growing between us feels profound in a way I’ve never experienced before .
My fingers trail down her elegant neck to glide teasingly along her collarbone. Thorn exhales a quiet moan. How is it possible to want someone this much? To feel your souls resonate in perfect harmony?
“Look at me,” I plead hoarsely.
Her luminous eyes meet mine, sparkling with vulnerability and trust. The openness there resonates through my soul.
I smooth her windswept hair back from her face, my touch reverent. “You are so beautiful,” I breathe.
Color stains her porcelain cheeks. I hope she can read the depth of my feelings in my gaze. Though we’ve only known each other a short time, my heart recognizes her as my other half. She is meant for me, just as I am meant for her.
Slowly, I become aware of the cold once more seeping into my back from the unyielding stone. With utmost care, I withdraw from Thorn, shifting us into a more sheltered alcove among the ruins.
She nuzzles into me with a contented sigh, clearly not yet ready to break our connection. I wrap my arms around her securely as the snow swirls down around us. Pressing a kiss to her temple, I marvel that only hours ago she was still a stranger. Now I know with absolute certainty that I will do anything to protect this woman who has so quickly become my entire world.
We stay huddled together as our breathing gradually returns to normal. I smooth her mussed raven locks, filled with awe, but as the fierce hunger of passion ebbs, her composure seems to shift, shoulders tensing. She won’t meet my gaze, biting her kiss-swollen lip anxiously.
Concern blooms within me. “What’s wrong?” I ask, ducking my head to catch her downcast eyes.
Thorn shakes her head vaguely, clearly troubled. “I can’t do this,” she whispers.
I freeze at her words, pulse skyrocketing. “Can’t do what?”
She pulls away abruptly, leaving me bereft. Her arms wrap around herself as if to shield from a sudden chill.
“Talk to me. Let me help you.”
Thorn seems lost in her own spiraling thoughts, heedless of my words. “Are you staying at the royal hunting camp nearby?” she asks urgently.
“I am, but…” I trail off, baffled by her non sequitur .
Thorn begins mumbling disjointedly about knowing where the camp is from her childhood. I strain to make sense of her rambling, to understand what has sparked this panic. My heart aches to see her so distraught.
Reaching out slowly, I graze her cheek with trembling fingers. “Please, I’m here for—“
Before I can finish, the world lurches sickeningly around me. Bright light sears my vision for a split second. Then, the scenery shifts, Thorn’s distressed face is replaced by… my mother’s?
I stagger in shock, abruptly finding myself in the middle of the royal hunting camp, still unclothed from my encounter with Thorn.
Chaos erupts as I frantically grab for anything to cover myself, but it’s too late. I am surrounded by dozens of wide-eyed retainers, servants, and royals who have looked up from their tasks to see the queen’s son standing naked before them all. Mortification washes over me. Fortunately, most of the nobles and royals are currently hunting, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a crowd surrounding me at this point.
My mother’s surprised expression morphs into one of resigned exasperation. “Honestly, Draven. Again? ”
I am deaf to her chastisement, my bewildered gaze darting around desperately for any sign of Thorn. She brought me here somehow with her magic, though I know not how or why. My heart clenches with loss and confusion. Once again, she disappeared as quickly as she came into my life, leaving me stripped bare in more ways than one.
My youngest sister, Talia, stifles a laugh as she approaches, her eyes dancing avoiding looking directly at me. “My, my, looks like someone got a bit confused on what he was supposed to be doing today. How did you go from hunting to standing here naked as the day you were born?”
I ignore her teasing, my focus bent solely on escaping the crowds as quickly as possible. Spotting my private tent just ahead, I make a beeline toward sanctuary, doing my best to ignore the whispers and stares that follow my retreat.
Once safely inside, I sink down on my cot, head in hands. The image of Thorn’s panicked face still haunts me. Why did she send me away so abruptly?
My chest aches fiercely, as if she tore something vital from me in our parting. I press my palm against it, but the pain persists, a constant throbbing reminder of her rejection.
Our fated bond, so new and vibrant, now strains against the distance she put between us. I can still feel the phantom traces of her touch, the heat of her skin against mine, and the way our very essences entwined, two strands knotting together as if we were always meant to be. That sense of wholeness, of home, still lingers, but now, it’s tainted by her refusal to accept it.
The high of our amplified connection has been replaced by this lingering anguish. I curse under my frosty breath. How could she have pushed me away so thoroughly? Why does she refuse to trust in that bond, that “meant to be” we share? The ache in my chest is a harsh reminder that destiny and magic are fickle, cruel things, especially when the other half of your soul denies what fate has decreed.
She has made it clear I am nothing more than a passing complication in her safe, solitary life, but I cannot give up on what we could be. Not when I can still feel the ghostly pull of our connection begging to be restored. I will find a way to break down those defenses, to make her see that we belong together .
This void she has left cannot be allowed to remain. I need her, as surely as I need air to breathe. I will do whatever it takes to make her mine.
With renewed conviction, I dress quickly and race from my tent. My feet fly over the snow-blanketed ground as I retrace my path back to the crumbling ruins where we last stood entwined, but by the time I arrive only silence greets me. The structure sits cold and abandoned, all traces of Thorn gone.
I search every corner, desperate for some sign of where she went, but the falling snow has already obscured any trail. It is as if she simply vanished.
As I stand there, devastated, one thought rings clear in my mind. I will find her again. I must. She is my destiny, and I am hers.
***
I trudge slowly back through the snow toward the royal encampment. The cold is nothing compared to the icy void in my chest where warmth and passion dwelled just hours before.
Each step takes me farther from the crumbling stone cottage where I held Thorn, felt our souls intertwine. Her absence hits me like a physical blow, a vital piece of myself ripped away.
By the time I reach my private tent, tears blur my vision. I sink to the cot, sobs wracking my frame as I finally allow the anguish to wash over me. I press both palms hard over my aching heart, but the pain persists, throbbing in time with my ragged breaths.
I should have held on tighter and been more attentive to Thorn’s fears instead of getting lost in passion’s haze. I should have had her explain. Told her what I knew about her past and that I understood. That she wasn’t alone. Now, only regret and sorrow remain, foreign emotions battering my mind like a hurricane. Her distress bleeds through our fading bond, assaulting my senses even as the connection frays.
Thorn’s presence surrounds me, though she is nowhere to be seen. It’s as if I carry the ghost of her within me, an intangible part left behind. I blink back hot tears that feel not wholly my own.
“Forgive me,” I rasp to the empty tent, imagining I can still reach her. “I’ll find you again. I swear it. Just wait for me…”
My pleading words disappear into silence, unheard by their intended recipient. She is gone, slipped through my grasp like mist, and with her went the missing piece that made me whole.
Eventually, the tears slow, leaving me hollowed out and spent. Even as bone-deep exhaustion threatens to pull me under, a flicker of conviction persists deep within. I cannot give up on finding Thorn again, earning back her trust, and making her understand we belong together. I must be patient and unrelenting. She is my destiny. I know this with absolute certainty.
As I sit brooding in my tent, a familiar voice startles me from my melancholy reverie. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over camp for you.”
I glance up to see Anthony ducking through the tent flap, his usual cheerful grin fading as he takes in my disheveled and dejected state. Without a word, he moves to grasp my shoulder in a comforting, grounding grip.
“I’ve heard the wildest tales about you today, my friend. Rumor has it you magically appeared in the nude right in the midst of the royal assembly!”
I sigh heavily, the lingering sting of humiliation flaring anew. “Unfortunately, the gossip is true this time. I found myself… unexpectedly transported back to camp rather indelicately. ”
Anthony lets out a low whistle. “That must have been quite the amorous encounter to leave the ever unflappable Prince Draven in such a state. Come, let’s walk awhile,” he adds, his tone gentler now. “Share your troubles with me.”
As we pass the campfire pits, the smell of woodsmoke and roasting meat filling the brisk air, I haltingly tell Anthony about meeting Thorn—her intriguing combination of shy sweetness and simmering passion, the unparalleled desire that flared between us, the certainty that she was my fated mate, and then the shock of her panic afterwards, the raw ache of our severed bond when she disappeared without explanation.
My voice breaks recounting it, the loss still an open wound.
Anthony listens intently, his usual mirth replaced by solemn empathy. He knows me better than any, like the brother I never had because, let’s be honest, mine is a piece of work.
“By the gods, she sounds like quite the woman to shake your composure so,” he muses, “but fret not. We’ll find her again. You have my oath on that. No magical teleportation can keep destined souls apart for long.”
My throat tightens at his steadfast loyalty. With Anthony by my side, the bleak despair and heartache I’d been drowning in feels a little lighter.
“Thank you, my friend,” I say quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you through all my misadventures over the years.”
Anthony clasps my shoulder, gray eyes warm with affection. “Oh, you’d find plenty of trouble regardless, I’m sure, but we’ll weather this storm together, as always.”