Breathe (The Destiny Series: Book 1) (19 page)

Jacob fairly strutted with his victory.

Darius would have liked to protest, but what could he say? It
was
her choice, after all. He nodded abruptly and stalked from the hall, trailed by Royce and the pup.

“I believe this is
my
dance, then?” Jacob bowed over her hand, took her in his arms, and swept her around in wide, graceful circles.

Step on his feet, Dearra. Put the pig in his place. I know you aren’t as dainty as you look. Come on, girl, put your weight into it.

“What amuses you so, Dearra?” Jacob asked, confused by the grin on her face.

Rather than answer his question, she asked one of her own. “What is it you want, Jacob?”

“I would have thought that was clear, Dearra. You. I want you. I would have preferred a more traditional courtship for the sake of modesty, but now that I see you need guidance in your life, I thought it best to step up and claim what’s mine outright.”

Torn between the desire to slap the arrogant swine or laugh in his face, Dearra didn’t know where to begin.

I say hit him. Hard.

Instead, Dearra decided to take the high ground. It really wasn’t a case of her controlling her temper as much as controlling her laughter. Brin’s instructions served only to make the whole situation even funnier.

“Jacob, I’m afraid I have given you the wrong impression, and I am very sorry for that. I am not interested in you in that way.” There. Better to be direct and avoid further misunderstanding.

“That’s alright, Dearra. You will get used to the idea once I have had the time to better instruct you in the ways a lady
should
behave.”

Seriously, Dearra, one little knee to the groin. With all of the dancers, no one would even notice him lying on the floor.

“Your offer of instruction is neither needed nor wanted. I believe my father has raised me quite well without the need for further assistance from you, thank you.”

Darius was back. Dearra noticed him watching the two of them intently as Jacob continued the flawless dance. “I see my other dance partner has returned,” she said. “I
am
sorry, but I must end our dance and return to him now.”

Dearra took a step away from Jacob, and he clamped a hand around the still pink gash on her arm to pull her back. Pain flashed through her in a blinding white explosion of agony.

“You will
not
further debase yourself by associating with the Breken, Dearra. You are mine, and you will act accordingly.”

Darius was halfway across the room, the look of murder in his eyes plain. Before he was able to intervene, Dearra reached up with her free hand, took hold of the fingers gouging into her arm, and quickly and fluidly snapped two of them.

Good girl, Dearra! Now, kick him!

Jacob’s howl of pain was mostly drowned out by the raucous laughter and music. Dearra saw him glare at her in hatred as she floated serenely away from him to meet Darius. She hooked his arm with hers, effectively stopping him from killing Jacob where he stood. She led Darius, arm in arm, out of the Great Hall and toward the front door of the keep.

“Where are we going?” Darius asked, his voice harsh.

“It’s a beautiful night. You’re taking me for a walk.”

“A walk! Have you lost your mind? Let me kill him, Dearra. It will be better for everyone.”

Yes! Let the boy kill him! Or better yet, come get me, and we will do it together!

“Stop it! Both of you! This is Harvest Celebration, a celebration of life. There will be no killing.”

“But, Dearra—”

“No killing!” She heard two sighs reach her at once, the sound of Brin and Darius simultaneously giving in.

Pleased by her successful persuasion, Dearra led the still angry Darius away from the keep and toward the soft splashing of the sea, moonlight gently lighting their path.

“Are you going to wear that face all night, Darius? It makes you look so cold and dangerous; I don’t like it.” Dearra’s words came out sounding a lot more like scolding than fear, and served to make Darius scowl more deeply. “Fine, then! Keep your angry snarls and grouchy expressions, but I am not happy with you.”

“Not happy with
me
? What did
I
do?”

“Well, you aren’t much of an escort, for one thing.”

“That’s not fair, Dearra! I was on my way. Only the crowds of people prevented me from getting to you faster. I would still put him in his place for how he treated you, had you given me the chance.”

Dearra waved a dismissive hand at him. “Oh, that was nothing. I am quite able to take care of myself. Jacob is just a nuisance. I can deal with him.”

“I think you underestimate him, Dearra.” Darius shrugged. “If that’s not what you meant, then I am at a loss.”

“You haven’t said one word about how I look tonight. I hate digging for compliments, but would ‘nice dress,’ or ‘you look better than usual without your normal coat of dust,’ be asking too much?” She had only been teasing in an effort to break him of his foul mood, but the look of distress on his face stopped her in her tracks. “I was joking, Darius. You have been an excellent escort, very kind and attentive. When you allowed my father to take me to my seat I was so grateful for your thoughtfulness.”

Now it was Darius’s turn to raise a hand to silence Dearra. “How could you doubt for a moment that you are by far the loveliest creature I have ever seen? When you walked into the hall tonight, I thought I was dreaming. You looked like a princess of legend, glowing like starlight and moon beams.” Stunned at the boldness of his words, he turned, and began to walk again toward the beach.

Dearra was thankful for the night, which hid the blush on her cheeks. “Thank you, Darius. You may exaggerate a bit, but I will take the compliment.”

“Dearra, I only regret I can’t find the words to say better what I see. There is no exaggeration.”

They walked to the beach and strolled in the sand for a while before Dearra took a seat on the ground, leaned back on her hands, and looked at the stars, glittering like diamonds.

“Are you tired, Dearra?” Darius said, his concern for her clear in his voice. “You have not been well for long. Maybe we should head back.”

“Don’t get carried away, Darius. I’m not tired, and I am quite well. It’s just that, well, I have sand in my shoes. These slippers weren’t meant for walking on beaches.”

“Oh.” Darius sat gracefully beside her and took in the stars and the gentle lapping of the waves.

Dearra shifted from her spot on the sand to kneel next to Darius who quirked an eyebrow at her nearness, but said nothing. Her hand lifted slowly, her finger gently tracing the tattoo on his face. The feather light touch followed from brow to cheekbone as she examined the markings. “Did it hurt, Darius? When they gave you the marking, I mean?”

“Not really.” He struggled to keep his voice even, the sensation of her hand on his face wreaking havoc with his self-control. “It’s more irritating than painful, like taking a piece of coarse fabric and rubbing your skin raw with it.”

“Were you afraid? You were only a boy, after all.”

“No, not afraid. Resigned. I knew that taking the mark would make me truly one of them. I felt trapped, but they were my people, and I didn’t see any other options for myself, other than trying to be as true to my principles as possible.”

“Have you ever been afraid? I don’t mean just a little, or the nerves before a battle, I mean
really
afraid?”

“Once,” he said, and swallowed hard awaiting her next question.

Her fingers continued to caress the side of his face. “When was it?” She spoke so quietly, he almost missed the question.

He closed his eyes, reveling in her touch, unwilling to see her reaction to his answer. “When you lay dying. When I thought I would lose you to the fever and never again know the joy of seeing the flash of your eyes or hear your gentle voice.”

The fingers stilled on his face, but he refused to open his eyes. He waited in silence, expecting to hear her velvet laughter at his silly admission of weakness. Instead, he felt the tender yet hesitant press of her lips against his own.

His eyes came open immediately. Her eyes were only inches from his, and even though the only light was that of the moon bouncing off the waves, he clearly saw the nervous anticipation on her face.

“Dearra, I don’t think…” he half choked the words, knowing this was a mistake. Their relationship would never be allowed; it was too dangerous. But when he saw her shoulders sag slightly at what she perceived as his rejection of her, he forgot all of the reasons why they shouldn’t, pulled her swiftly into his lap, and returned her kiss with all the passion he had been trying to control.

All sound ceased. There were no night noises, no waves on the sand, only the deafening crash of his heart as it hammered in his chest. He had wanted to do this for what seemed like forever. He could feel the gauzy material of her dress under his hand as it pressed her more closely to him, his other hand slid of its own accord to cradle the back of her head, and his fingers twined in the silken strands of her hair. When he felt her hands reach tentatively to his own head, his heart pounded still faster, though he didn’t know how that was possible.

She laced her fingers into his hair, mimicking his movements, and the Breken in Darius demanded he take her, possess her. Now! To hell with the costs or the repercussions. But the noble part of him insisted he stop. Now! Before it was too late.

In what was surely a testament to his iron will, he did stop, slowly breaking the kiss and forcing himself to pull back from her. She breathed rapidly, eyes wide. He could feel his hands shaking as they gently held her.  

“This is a mistake, Dearra.” His voice said the words, but even he noticed the lack of conviction in his tone. How was he to convince her when he couldn’t convince himself?

She grinned. “Probably, but it’s a happy one. Will you kiss me again? I liked it very much.”

He laughed; he couldn’t help it. Dearra was so sincere, so innocent, so completely unaware of the danger she put herself in by surrendering to him. Asking this of him was akin to the dove asking the hawk to come to dinner.

This time the meeting of their lips was less frantic. Dearra reached up, put her arms around his neck, and struggled to get closer to him. As much as he would have liked to stay right where he was, Darius knew their absence would be noticed. He wanted to be noble, but couldn’t quite bring himself to end the embrace. His arms clamped tightly about her as he held her to him, and stood in one fluid motion.

Dearra laid her head against his chest and listened to the comforting beat of his heart as he carried her back toward the keep.

Dearra sat in the middle of her bed, both arms wrapped tightly around herself. “Oh, Brin, wasn’t it wonderful? Wasn’t it perfect? He was so…wonderful!”

Yes, Dearra, it was wonderful. Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do now?

“What do you mean?”

I mean, your father and Daniel and Jacob and well…everyone, really, isn’t likely to see this as quite the momentous occasion as the two of you. He’s Breken; you’re Maj. It’s not exactly a conventional match.

“You’re the one who said he was my destiny. I would have thought I had
your
support, at least,” Dearra said defensively.

I told you that because I knew it to be true. That doesn’t mean I approve or that everything is going to be smooth as silk for the two of you. There are obstacles to this match. You will need to be very, very careful. I don’t think you realize how dangerous Jacob can be, for example.

Dearra huffed in frustration. “What has Jacob got to do with anything?”

I don’t like to get too involved in these things, but Jacob worries me. He is not stable. He thinks of you as a possession.
His
possession. He’s not likely to sit back and watch another man take what he thinks of as his, not without a fight. Just promise you’ll keep me close for a while, alright?

“Sure, Brin.”

No, not, ‘Sure, Brin,’ like, oh, let’s just humor the silly sword. I mean it, Dearra. You aren’t exactly able to out muscle the big brute, not unless you have a sword in your hand. Then, if we see him coming, I know you’ll be safe.

“You’re really worried about me, aren’t you? Brin, that’s so sweet.”

Stop it, Dearra. You’re not going to distract me from this. Promise me.

“Oh, fine! But, Brin?”

Yes?

“Do you disapprove? Of Darius and me, I mean.”

No, I suppose not. How could I when…well, never mind that now, but my opinion isn’t like to count for much with anyone else.

“Thanks, Brin. That means a lot.” Dearra leapt from the bed and headed toward her door.

Where do you think you’re going at this hour and in your nightgown?

“I have to talk to him. I need to know it wasn’t all just a wonderful dream.”

First off, that’s not necessary. You know very well it wasn’t a dream. Second, what happened to your promise to keep me by your side? You would have left without me. Third, it’s the middle of the night; he’s probably sleeping. Fourth, this is completely inappropriate. It would be the shortest courtship in history if your father caught you in his room. I absolutely forbid it!

Dearra pasted a pretty pout on her face and let her shoulders slump as she stared sadly at the sword.

Well…at least cover yourself, girl. Where’s your robe?

“Thanks, Brin! I knew you would understand.” Dearra grabbed her robe and sword and darted out of the room, slipping soundlessly down the steps.

***

Darius was startled out of his silent reverie by the slightest tapping at his door. There was no need to ask who it was—it could only be Dearra. No one else would come to his room at this hour unless there were trouble, and then the knock would be more insistent, if they knocked at all. He opened the door wide to see Dearra, her hair still hanging loosely around her shoulders. She was dressed in a white nightgown that covered every inch of her, her bare feet poked from beneath the hem, and Brin was tucked securely under her arm. If Darius had thought her tempting in the silver-blue gown she wore earlier, he had sorely underestimated the power of the nightgown. She looked too innocent, too fragile, too vulnerable standing before him, and he had to take a step back from her.

Dearra, unfortunately, took the movement as an invitation, stepped into his room, and shut the door. She set her sword down, and took a step towards him, but Darius retreated another step of his own. “What is it, Darius?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” he said.

Dearra frowned as his words did not match his actions. “Yes, there is. Something’s wrong.” Her mind felt clouded with doubt, and she worried he might be regretting their time on the beach. Maybe he had suffered a momentary lapse in judgment Maybe he was sorry it ever happened.

Oh, for Tolah’s sake, Fuzzy! It’s the middle of the night and you are here in your nightgown. He feels like a starving man staring at a feast. He’s afraid he might rush in and devour you whole!

Really? That’s…that’s—

I know, I know. That’s wonderful. Just give the boy a moment to collect himself.

Darius seemed to gain back a measure of control, and his lips twitched in wry amusement. “What is it, Dearra?” he said more gruffly than he had intended.

“I just wanted to see you,” she said, stammering.

Darius chuckled softly. “Did you think I would vanish in the night? I will see you in a few hours in the Great Hall, for breakfast, Dearra. Was it something that couldn’t wait?”

I told you not to come here. You are making a fool of yourself.
Now
what are you going to tell him?

Dearra opted to say nothing at all. She took three strides until she stood before his towering form and laid her head against his chest. His arms came up around her almost instantly, and he rested his cheek against the top of her head.

“Dearra,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“You can’t be here.”

Dearra ignored the statement and snuggled closer to the mighty Breken warrior.

“Dearra, I’m just a man. I’m not made of stone. You can’t do that and expect me to…well…you just really can’t do that.”

Dearra looked up at him from beneath her lashes with the same pout she had used on Brin earlier. It worked just as well on the unsuspecting Darius, and his lips were on her in an instant. He kissed her temples, her closed lids, her neck…everywhere at once in his attempt to remove the sad look from her face. She gloried in his attention and sighed contentedly as he crushed her to him in a tight embrace.

Oh, you’re devious! You’ll do anything to get your way! I was a fool to worry about Jacob. You’re the one I should be watching.

“What about Jacob?” Darius said huskily without breaking their embrace.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Brin’s an old woman; he worries too much. I told him—Hey! You heard him!”

“Sure,” Darius responded casually. “I thought you knew, Dearra.”

“But how do
you
hear him?” Dearra was confused and not a little agitated as she struggled to recall all of the conversations she’d had with Brin thinking they were private.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“What do you mean? I—”

You wanted to know about Jacob?
Brin interrupted.

“Yes, if he’s a real danger to Dearra, I want to know about it.”

“The two of you are overreacting. What could he possibly do to me? I outmatch him with a sword, and if he dared raise a hand against me my father and Daniel would run him through.”

“Your father and Daniel would need to get in line,” Darius growled.

I’m not fooling around with this. As I told Dearra earlier, he considers her his possession. He merely bides his time. If things don’t go his way, eventually he will act to take what is his.

“You talk about me like I am some helpless twit who can’t defend herself! Do you think for a moment I would put myself in a situation where he would be able to get the better of me? Brin, you can hear thoughts. Surely you would know in plenty of time if he were planning to act?”

I would if he were rational, Dearra, but that’s what I’m saying. He isn’t balanced! He acts on impulse, and there’s no logic to his decisions and choices. He could be holding a flower in his hand, enjoying the fragrance, and on a whim, and with no forethought, crush it and cast it aside. He struggles with those impulses daily. This is why he always seems to be just on the edge of trouble. He knows he will bring suspicion on himself if he acts, so he just stirs the situation enough and lets others do his dirty work. That way he can sit back and watch the chaos and let others take the blame.

“I trust Dearra to be cautious, but it’s best if you and I are with her as much as possible,” Darius said, his look daring Dearra to argue with him.

“Oh, alright! I spend most of my time with you anyway, so no one will be the wiser, and Brin is a burden I shall just have to bear, I suppose.”

Make light of it if you wish, Dearra, so long as you follow our advice. I’m not going back in that box.

“Yes, Brin. I’ll save you from eternal boredom. I’m glad I can alleviate your suffering.”

Humph.

“We will discuss this more in the morning, Dearra. You really do need to go back to your room now.”

She supposed he was right, and she pulled slowly away from him in order to retrieve her sword and return to her room, but just as her hand was about to break free of his, his grip tightened suddenly and he yanked her back to him. She gasped in surprise and then melted into his arms as he kissed her once more. When he had finished, her head was spinning, and her breath came in little gasps.

Dearra fought for the words and struggled to control her frantic breathing. “What was that for?” she said.

“I just thought, what with Jacob making his claim, I’d better make my intentions known as well. He may
think
you belong to him, but I want you to know that, as of this moment,
I
belong to
you
.” Darius reached up and rubbed the back of his hand tenderly along her face.

Dearra stumbled awkwardly to the door, and raced back to the privacy of her room, blushing furiously with pleasure. Once there, she sat in front of the fire and relived every moment of the day. The world was suddenly a wonderful place to be.

You need to get some sleep, Dearra. Morning is coming quickly.

“I couldn’t sleep, Brin. Not now. Everything is running through my head so fast, I feel like I’m walking on clouds.”

If you don’t sleep you will miss tomorrow, and who knows, it might be even better than today.

“I’ll try, but I don’t think I can.” Dearra gazed intently into the fire, and Brin began to sing, his voice sounding softly in her mind.

Night has come, the day it sleeps,

Rest now, your tired eyes, dear one.

Darkness flies, on silver wings,

Hold tight to dreams, of love begun.

Curse not the light, or breaking dawn,

Love’s glory dies not, with the rising sun.

Sleep and dream of love’s first kiss,

Then wake to joy, when night is done.

Dearra’s eyes drifted shut, and the soothing lullaby followed her into her dreams.