Defying Destiny (38 page)

enough Wolves, I would find peace and I

wouldn’t have to see their destroyed

bodies in my dreams,” she said, her voice

hollow and cracking with emotion. “I

dreamt of their murders every night for so

many years. It gave me the will to continue

with my quest to prevent Wolves from

hurting and killing other people. I had to

do something to fill the emptiness inside

me. Telling myself I was making a

difference made it all seem worthwhile.”

“You were left alone,” he said, pulling

her back down on his chest so that he

could hold her, stroke her silky black hair,

and brush his lips reverently over her

brow. “We lost several, including my

father and grandfather, but we didn’t lose

everyone. They were wrong to try to settle

their problems by spilling blood. After the

massacre, I tried to convince myself it

was for the best, thinking with the Hunters

out of the way I could control the curse

and live peacefully here among the trees,

but my pack isn’t the only pack. The other

packs have no control over their actions at

all. They don’t have a Guardian to stop

them from killing.”

“My way wasn’t the right way either,”

she admitted, her chest feeling tight and

achy. “Killing doesn’t save anyone in the

end. Jared told me something like that

once.”

“Jared,” Nash growled with a low

curse.

“How did you come to be the pack’s

Guardian?” she asked him, lifting her hand

to touch the thick strand of white hair that

always seemed determined to impede the

vision of his left eye.

“I was born this way. I have no idea

why,” he admitted. “There has only ever

been one other guardian.”

“Only one?” she whispered, surprised.

“Have you met him or her?”

“No, he was born almost six hundred

years ago, near the time when the curse

took effect. The books I’ve been studying

are his. He wrote them when he was a

little older than me. He seems to have had

a much better handle on the situation than

I, yet he was unable to break the curse.”

She was silent for a long moment as

she absorbed his words. “I am going to

help you,” she said with determination.

“Help me?”

“Yes. I’ll never be able to live with

myself if I don’t do something to stop this.

I can’t kill Wolves anymore, but I can’t

turn my back on those people I swore to

protect either.”

“I don’t think…I don’t think there’s

anything you can do to help,” he said

finally. “Only a Wolf Guardian can break

the curse.”

“Does it say anywhere that he has to

do it without any help?”

He paused. “No, not directly,” he

admitted.

“It’s

settled

then,”

she

said.

“Tomorrow we’ll start working together

to figure out how to break the curse. There

has to be a way or you wouldn’t have

been born free of its effects. That’s what I

believe at least.”

He hugged her against him and kissed

the top of her head. “It’s been a long time

since I was filled with hope, Maralee,” he

whispered. “Thank you for being here

with me.”

“I have nowhere else I belong.”

They lay there silently, holding each

other, until sleep finally claimed them. On

that night, Maralee’s nightmares returned.

Nash started awake. An unfamiliar sound

had pulled him from his exhausted

slumber. It took him a moment to realize

Maralee’s terrified whimpers had woken

him. She was on the far side of the pallet,

curled up, trembling and crying out in her

sleep. Her oblivious suffering gnawed at

his chest. He crawled across the pallet

and took her firmly by the shoulder, giving

her a hard shake.

“Maralee.”

“No,” she groaned. “No!”

“Maralee, wake up,” he demanded

more forcefully, shaking her vigorously.

“Maralee!”

She cried out, still lost in the horror of

her dream. Nash panicked. This was no

ordinary nightmare. It was as if she

couldn’t be awoken from it. He feared she

would remain trapped within it forever.

“Please, Maralee, wake up,” he

murmured, drawing her against him in the

darkness, holding her face pressed against

his rapidly beating heart.

She fought his hold for a moment and

then relaxed against him. Though her

nightmare seemed to have subsided, Nash

continued to hold her. He knew she hadn’t

been having nightmares for the past

several days. He wondered what had

brought this one on. When he had

convinced himself that she was sleeping

peacefully, he loosened his hold and

eased away from her slightly. Her

unprovoked, terrified scream, startled

him. She sat up beside him, breathing

hard, tears flowing unfettered down her

cheeks, as at last, she awoke from the

dream.

“Maralee?” he whispered, reaching

out to touch her in the darkness.

She started when his fingers brushed

her side.

“Nash?” she murmured, as if she

wasn’t sure it was him.

“It’s me,” he assured her. “You were

having a nightmare. I tried to wake you up,

but...”

“Just a dream,” she whispered,

covering her trembling lips with her

fingertips. “Just a dream.”

“Were you dreaming about your family

again?” he asked her, sitting up beside her

and placing a comforting arm around her

lower back.

“Y-yes,” she whispered, “and other

things.”

She surprised him when she forced

him onto his back and rested her head on

his chest, breathing hard as tears dripped

from her eyes and trailed over his bare

skin.

“Just a dream,” she murmured. “Just a

dream.”

“Maralee?” he questioned, deeply

concerned.

“Don’t speak,” she insisted. “I need to

hear it.”

He tried listening for a moment, but he

didn’t hear anything at all. “Hear what?”

he asked finally.

“Your heartbeat.”

He stroked her hair and stilled his

breathing so she could listen to his

heartbeat. He didn’t understand why it

was suddenly so important to her, but it

seemed to soothe her. At least her tears

had stopped dripping down his side.

“Are you better now?” he asked after a

while.

She didn’t answer, but he knew she

wasn’t asleep, because her hand trailed

down his belly. His pulse accelerated

with awakening desire and she sighed

with contentment. Her touch became

bolder, teasing and deliberate, suffusing

him with pleasure and desire. She took his

cock in her hand, rubbing her palm along

its length. His heart raced faster and faster

until his need for her consumed him. He

shifted onto his side, trying to tumble her

onto her back, but she held onto him,

pressing her ear more firmly to his chest.

“Maralee, let me,” he begged, his

hands seeking her pliant flesh but found

her to be rigid and unyielding.

“No,” she said, trembling as she clung

to his chest and refused to let go.

“Then why were you touching me like

that?” he growled irritably.

“I wanted to hear your heart beat

faster,” she whispered. “Please let me

stay here a little longer.”

“Tell

me

what’s

wrong,”

he

demanded. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I just wanted to know if it sounded

different when you’re relaxed or excited,

happy or sad, angry or calm. I know the

heart feels different inside when you

experience emotions, but I wanted to

know if it sounded different.”

He relaxed, holding her close to his

chest, his frustration evaporating. “Can

you hear what I’m feeling now?” he asked

her, concentrating on the love he felt for

her. It always seemed to make his heart

flutter like the wings of a butterfly,

perhaps she would be able to hear it if she

listened closely.

“N-no,” she whispered and burst into

tears.

“Don’t cry anymore, Maralee,” he

begged. “If you can’t hear it, I’ll tell you

what it feels like.”

She sobbed and nodded wordlessly.

He stroked her hair as he whispered to her

in the darkness. “Right now my heart

aches. It feels like my ribs are crushing it

because I can’t stand for you to cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping at

her tears. “How does it feel when you’re

happy?”

“Like it’s swelling with warm air,

trying to rise into the sky.”

“I want to hear what it sounds like

then,” she said. “Tell me the next time you

feel that way so I can listen.”

He smiled. At times, she was almost

childlike, and at others very much a

woman. “It feels that way now, because

you’ve stopped crying.”

“It doesn’t sound any different,” she

said. She continued to listen silently for

numerous minutes. Her warmth was

soothing and he found himself nodding off

to sleep again. He heard her words just

before he drifted away, though their

importance didn’t register.

“I’ll never allow this heart to stop

beating.”

Long after Nash had fallen back to sleep,

Maralee continued to listen to his

heartbeat. She didn’t want to sleep ever

again. She couldn’t stand the idea of him

dying, and to see it happen by her own

sword, his blood dripping over their

combined hands, was more than she could

bear. Why did she keep dreaming this

horrible thing? And why did she keep

dreaming about the sons she would never

create with Nash? If one thing was

impossible, then the other had to be as

well. She almost had herself convinced of

this when she moved away from him and

found her discarded clothes.

She dressed in the dark, grinning when

she found she couldn’t lace her pants. The

string was snapped. She considered

crawling back into bed with him and

driving him to that frenzied state once

again, but decided against it. They had to

find a way to break this curse and if they

lingered in bed all day, they would never

make any progress.

She washed up in the water closet and

changed into pants she didn’t have to hold

up with one hand, before venturing to the

kitchen to steep some strong coffee. There

wasn’t much coffee left, most of the

supplies they’d bought when she had first

arrived were dwindling. They would have

to make a trip to Sarbough soon, or she

would have to learn to subside on a pure

meat diet.

Cup of coffee in hand, she moved to

the living area and reclaimed her book

from her knapsack. She sat down at his

desk and lit a candle for more light than

the dawn offered. She didn’t bother to

light the fire, thinking that perhaps the

combination of strong, black coffee and

chilly air would keep her awake. She took

a sip of scalding liquid and opened the

book, skimming the first few pages. She

sighed. The sage had gone into a lengthy

and detailed discussion about the ways

Burl had tried to prove his immortality.

She had never been an avid reader. She

wasn’t patient enough to wait to find out

how it ended. She never got more than half

way through a book before she turned to

the back and read the ending. After half an

hour of reading, she did exactly that,

turned to the last few pages and began to

read.

So saddened was I, that brothers could

become such embittered enemies, I

formulated a plan to draw them closer. If

one had to depend on the other, they

would be forced to work out their

differences and find peace between them.

I gave my own son the power to break the

curse if he so chose, at least temporarily,

on the night of every full moon. He had