Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Shifting paths
Whispers of a Legend
Adira did not hesitate.
The moment his finger beckoned, she rose and crossed the room toward him.
Dravic watched her every step. The firelight danced across her face, casting shifting shadows that somehow managed to reveal a quiet beauty he had failed to see. Her gaze remained lowered until she reached him. Then, slowly, she lifted her eyes to his.
There it was, still lingering there. The same fierce emotion he had seen only moments before.
It stirred something deep within him, something he had neither expected nor welcomed. Kings did not have the luxury of surrendering to emotion. Duty demanded discipline, reason, and sacrifice.
Yet there was no denying what he saw in her eyes.
She cared for him far more than she should.
The unsettling thought came swiftly. If he was not careful… he could come to care for her just as deeply.
How had that happened? When had it begun? Or had it been there all along?
He had kept her close from the beginning, never really knowing why. Whenever Tavish questioned him, he always had an answer. But had any of those answers ever truly made sense?
He no longer knew.
He reached up slowly.
Do not touch her.
He ignored his own warning and gently brushed his finger beneath her eye. “You cannot care for me.” His thumb lingered against her soft cheek. “I forbid it.”
His own words pierced his heart like an arrow.
This was not good. He could not allow it to happen. He could not allow himself to care for her. It would only end badly… for her.
The way she continued to look at him did not help. She did not hide how she felt, did not shy away from it. It was almost as if she simply accepted it.
And bloody hell if it didn’t stir his manhood.
If she was so willing, why should he deny her? Why not make her his mistress?
He shook his head, but he did not push her away.
She was a vulnerable woman, unable to hear or speak.
He would be a fool to treat her so poorly.
But what kind of life would she have otherwise?
What sort of man would willingly seek a woman like Adira?
One who desired unquestioning obedience?
One who thought her silence made her easy to control?
One who believed she could be used and discarded because she had no voice to protest?
The thought alone stirred a fierce anger in him.
His glance dropped to her hand, feeling it resting firmly against his chest, then he raised his eyes to hers and saw concern there. She had felt the change in him, and it worried her.
He had come to cherish the quiet closeness he had found with her.
She was always there beside him and as her fear of him faded, her understanding of him had grown, and that had become priceless to him.
Like now. Though she could not hear a sound or speak a word, she knew he was angry and sought to comfort him.
With Adira he never felt alone.
He could not lose that. He could not lose her.
So, what should he do?
He stepped away from her. Until he could make a wise decision, he would do nothing… but keep her close.
The distance puzzled Adira. Only moments ago, his gentle touch had stolen her breath. When his fingers had brushed beneath her eye, she had felt something pass between them. Warm, strong, and unmistakably real.
She had seen it in his eyes as clearly as she had felt it in his touch.
He cared for her and more deeply than she had imagined.
The certainty settled quietly within her. It did not frighten her. It felt right, as if it had always been there waiting for her to recognize it.
Then why had he stepped away?
She stared at his back, his hand resting on the mantel and his head bent to the fire in the hearth. She knew her place with him, lines not to cross, but since he kissed her those lines had begun to blur. She was not quite sure what was expected of her. Or what she expected of herself.
She went to him and, without hesitation, rested her hand on his shoulder.
He turned slowly.
Adira stepped back. She had seen his eyes like this before. One of the many women who visited his bedchamber for an evening would be summoned and she would be sent to her room for the night.
Never though were his eyes as heated as they were now.
He shook his head at her.
She reached out to rest her hand against his chest.
Dravic grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
She grimaced, his grip tighter than usual.
He scowled, released her wrist, and moved away from her.
If only he would let her touch him, she would better understand. At least, she hoped she would.
She went to step closer and Dravic shoved his arm out, nearly planting his palm in her face.
“Stay back.”
She wrinkled her brow and shrugged.
“You do not need to understand. You simply need to keep your distance.” He ran his hand through his hair. “At least until I figure this out.” His eyes went to hers. “Or maybe forever.”
That thought did not sit well with him at all.
He was king. He could do whatever he wished. Whatever he commanded. But he could not hurt her.
He pointed to the bed. “Go to bed.”
Adira grabbed his hand and held tight to it. His turmoil raced through her like a mighty wave drowning her in his chaotic emotions. It washed over her with such intensity that a single tear ran from her eye.
That tear broke him.
That she should feel that much for him…
He did not think, he simply swept her up into his arms and kissed her.
The kiss stole her breath or was it the intensity of his feeling that came along with it? She knew the comfort of a caring touch. Feena had given her that. But this… this was nothing like it.
It made her feel as if they were one. Their heartbeats drummed like one. Every sensation blended. She could not tell where one began and the other joined in. It was a magnificent feeling and a frightening one. And one she did not want to live without.
Dravic felt it as soon as their lips met. This kiss was different. This kiss opened something between them that went deep, grabbed hold, and refused to let go.
It was as if he could feel all of her, every part of her come alive and become part of him, and there she would stay and he wanted her to. He wanted her part of him forever.
She pressed herself closer against him and he welcomed her, his hand drifting down to her backside to press her even tighter against him.
He felt it… her need. It was as great as his.
You must wed.
If he did not know any better, he would think Tavish stood in the room with them, his voice was so clear in his head. And hearing it was like throwing cold water at him.
It brought him to his senses.
Dravic eased Adira away from him and without looking her in the eyes, he grabbed his cloak and left the cottage.
Adira stood there staring at the closed door. Her lips still pulsed from his kiss, her body ached for his touch, and her heart pained with such grave loss that she grabbed her chest and sank down on the nearest chair.
The kiss changed everything, but she feared what that change may be.
Adira opened her eyes and sat up. The cottage was still, a fresh fire burned in the hearth, and food and drink had been left on the table. There was not one morning she did not breakfast with the king, but he was nowhere to be seen.
The memory of his kiss came rushing back. Without thinking, her fingers brushed her lips. A smile threatened before fading just as quickly.
She glanced at the window, feeling much like the gray morning light that crept through it… shaded in uncertainty.
What would happen now?
She would not wait. She would go see for herself.
She rose, slipped on her boots, and brushed the wrinkles from her garments as best she could.
Her fingers worked free the ribbon that held her braid.
The heavy strands slipped over her shoulders and down her back.
She combed them through with her fingers until they were free of any tangles, then let them remain loose.
She looked toward the door.
Would he regret what had happened between them? Would he send her away?
The thought tightened her chest, and she drew a steady breath.
She was anxious to leave the cottage and, having no stomach for food, she slipped on her cloak, opened the door and stepped into the fresh morning air and complete chaos.
The king’s guard stood only a few feet away, his back to her, his attention fixed on the turmoil unfolding before him.
People hurried toward Vachel’s cottage while others already gathered there stood huddled together, their worried expressions difficult to read from where she stood. Some clasped each other’s hands, others bowed their heads, and a few simply stared at the cottage in silence.
A heaviness settled in her heart.
Had the young lass died?
Beyond the crowd, she spotted the king with Ernach. He spoke briefly with several villagers, then with quick, determined strides headed toward Vachel’s cottage.
Adira walked to the guard and tapped him on the shoulder.
He turned at once.
She pointed toward the king.
Cadby followed the direction of her finger and nodded. “Aye. I am to bring you to the king.” He grimaced. “I keep forgetting. You cannot hear me… and you cannot speak.”
He pointed toward the king, then motioned with his hand for her to follow.
Adira bobbed her head to let him know she understood.
Cadby waited until she reached his side before escorting her through the anxious villagers toward the king.
Adira’s eyes remained fixed on the growing crowd outside Vachel’s cottage. The villagers’ expressions were mixed, their movements cautious, making it difficult for her to understand what was going on.
“It cannot be.”
The whispered words caught Cadby’s attention.
“Nay… it is.”
Adira saw his brow knit.
“It is impossible.”
“There is one…”
“…the healer spoken of in the oldest tales.”
“…the one who can defy death.”
Cadby’s hand slipped beneath his jerkin and closed tightly around the amulet that hung from his neck.
Adira looked from the amulet to his face, puzzled by the sudden change in him.
“A miracle…”
“The impossible…”
Cadby stopped at the cottage door, looked at Adira, then opened the door and stepped aside.
Adira realized he would remain outside.
She entered alone.
The cottage no longer held the crushing grief it had the day before. Relief had taken its place.
The king stood speaking with Vachel and his wife while Ernach remained nearby, a broad smile brightening his weathered face. Tears still glistened on the mother’s cheeks, but now they flowed with joy instead of sorrow.
“She died,” the mother’s voice trembled. “There was not a breath left in her.”
“Aye, not a breath left,” Vachel repeated, his own voice filled with wonder. “I took my wife outside. She could bear no more. We stayed but a few moments.”
“When we returned…” His voice faltered, emotion thickening it. “…our lass was sitting up asking if there was anything to eat.”
His wife laughed through fresh tears. “She wanted a honey cake.”
Adira watched their faces, puzzled by the sudden joy that had replaced despair.
She quietly walked around them to see the lass sitting upright in bed, happily eating a honey cake.
Adira stared. The blood had been washed from the child’s face. The bandage was gone. Only a faint scar remained upon her forehead, looking years old rather than freshly healed.
Adira felt the vibration, annoyance bordering on anger. It was familiar to her, having felt it many times. It came from the king.
“You saw no one?” Dravic demanded.
Vachel shook his head. “No one, my king. Only my wife and me. We left for but a few moments. When we returned…” He looked at his daughter and smiled once again. “She was alive.”
“There can be no other explanation,” the king said, his voice strong, determined. “The healer who defies death was here. I want her found.”