Phantom of the Heart (19 page)

She was a monster now. A beast that did not deserve to be around her beloved wife. Sterling was sure to go for her weapons were she to try and approach her. The thought of her wife looking at her with horror in her eyes was too much to bear. Even if Sterling's presence here meant that she had come looking for her, Orla Peron was dead to the world.

Orla was abruptly startled by the appearance of a man. Her hackles rose immediately. The newcomer carried the scent of an Ulv. Thinking that Sterling could be in trouble, she readied herself to defend her mate. The man must have sensed her presence, for he turned his head and stared straight at her. It was Rom. She could see the surprise in his eyes as he looked at her. Because nothing about his demeanor broadcasted violence, Orla backed down. Rom knew who Sterling was and if he was a friend as he had said, Sterling was safe with him.

That night, she had sat there in the dark, watching as Rom prepared food for them. It was only when the smell of the roasting meat became too much for her to resist that Orla ran off to go in search of her own supper. She returned a while later to keep silent vigil over her wife.

The next day, she returned to the rundown cottage she had annexed. She crawled into the darkest corner of the cottage where she slept the day away. She did not shed her wolf form, scared of the dreams she was sure would pounce on her now that she had seen Sterling again.

As soon as the sky began to darken she stole to the palace. She was in human form and dressed in a stolen cape so she would blend in well. Strolling through the small village which was surrounded by impenetrable rocks, she kept a careful eye on the guards and the wolves patrolling the palace on both the inside and the outside.

Her relief was great when she saw Gentro leave the palace unguarded. He was the reason she was here. She was sure that nothing happened in his territory without his knowledge. Orla was surprised to find him making his way to the dungeons where she had been held. She had waited outside till he walked past her, obviously lost in thought, and knocked him unconscious.

Gentro moved over to the bucket and began to scoop water into his mouth. Orla took the chance to watch him closely. There was no doubt in her mind that he was her father. They looked very much alike. They had the same hair, eye color, and almost the same build. She remembered him in wolf form. Even then, she resembled him. She thought back to their earlier conversation. She, Orla Peron, was a descendant from the oldest and longest-living monarchy in existence. She was so fascinated by Gentro's story that it had not really sunken in that she was no longer the lowly blacksmith she once thought herself to be.

Gentro leaned back against the wall of the cottage and looked around. When his eyes caught hers, she raised a dark eyebrow.

“Why do you not come to live with me in the palace? It must be more comfortable there than here.”

“I like it here. I like the solitude.”

“I am worried about you. If Ridat were to find out about you, he would come for you.” Gentro said softly, and Orla could actually read the fear in the man's eyes. “I have already given up so much to keep you safe. I would hate for it be in vain, Orla.”

“You need not be concerned about my safety. I can take care of myself.”

Gentro swallowed hard. “I know, but it is a father's prerogative to worry, daughter.”

Orla looked away.
Daughter
. She was not sure if she was ready to accept Gentro as her father yet. He was, in fact, still a stranger to her, albeit one who looked like her. She knew now that he had not deserted them, and she believed him. She did not see why he would want to lie to her about it. Now that she knew that he was alive, she wondered what that would mean for her mother.

Gentro was once again nibbling on the rabbit carcass. She had been so angry at him before that she had not really cared one bit about him. Now, she felt embarrassed that she had acted that way toward him. Having heard the story, she knew why he brought Sterling here. As an Ulv your partner plays a vital role in keeping you grounded and keeping the dark allure of the power away. She still had misgivings about her and Sterling's future.

“What about my mother?”

If she had not been looking at him so closely, she would have missed the flash of pain in the pale eyes. Gentro blinked and the look was gone. He rubbed over his chin. “I would like to be with her again, but I do not want to put her in danger. As long…” He lowered his gaze. “It would kill me if something were to happen to her.”

Orla sensed the pain coming from him, and she slowly came to her feet to sit next to him. Gentro's eyes turned dark as he look at her and Orla saw a small smile break over his face at her proximity. That was all he had wanted, it seemed. Orla placed her hand on his arm, and Gentro quickly dropped the meat to rest his on hers. They both gasped when a strong current rushed through them. The link had been made. They would be bonded for life. Momentarily distracted from their topic, they sat there in silence, absorbing the other's nearness. Orla softly cleared her throat.

“Between the two of us, we will make sure that she is safe.”

“That might work, but would she want me back? I will be fine as long as I know she is alive.”

Orla realized then that Gentro was scared of confronting her mother. She suddenly wondered if he had found someone else. The idea was painful, considering her mother was still mourning him. She lifted her hand off his arm and saw him looking at her fearfully.

“Have you taken another mate?” She had not meant for it to come out quite so harsh, but it did. Gentro flinched as he looked at her.

“No, I would never. Anyway, it would not be possible; wolves mate for life. Even if I had wanted to, I could not.”

Orla cocked her head at that. “Are you telling me that you have not been with anyone for almost twenty years?”

Gentro nodded. “I only ever wanted your mother, Orla.”

Orla smiled broadly and took his hand in hers. “She also refused to take another. I think we will have to do something about that.”

“Like what?”

Orla came to feet. “We need to hunt Ridat down.” She held a hand out to Gentro and helped him to his feet. He swayed a little, and she held him until he had steadied himself.

“What did you use to knock me out?”

Orla blushed. “I am sorry about that, but it was the only way to get you here.”

“Next time try asking me instead,” Gentro said with a smile. Orla returned the smile. She might still have some leftover feelings about her situation and the role Gentro played in it, but was finding that she rather liked the man. Even if he gave her an abnormal gene, she was willing to work through that with time. She was simply glad to know that she was not the only one with this strange gift.

Gentro followed her out the door, and she saw him squint in the bright sunlight. She had not realized that they had been talking for so long. She looked up at the position of the sun. It was already past the midday hour. She looked at Gentro and found him looking at her.

“There is something else I need to tell you.”

Orla could not help a feeling of foreboding at Gentro's grave tone. “What is it?”

“We can capture Ridat, but we cannot kill him.” Gentro took her hand in hers. “We are of the same blood, and it is prohibited for us to take the life of anyone from the bloodline.”

“What should we do then?”

“We need an ancient from our bloodline to destroy him.”

“And who would that be? Are they even still alive?”

Gentro smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “King Hark is still very much alive, but he is quite old now and rarely leaves the kingdom. We could try and get hold of Minos. We are direct descendants of him. You look a little pale. Are you okay?”

“I…I will be,” Orla said with a weak smile. She was completely stunned by the news. If King Hark was still alive after all these years, it meant she too might one day grow that old. She found Gentro's concerned gaze on her. “I rarely take on human form during the day.”

“I know. That is why I have shared so much with you,” Gentro gently rubbed her hand. “But you will be fine. Now, come to the palace with me. We will have to send a messenger to Minos.”

Orla held up her hand. “You go ahead. I need…” She gave him a pleading look. “I need…”

Gentro nodded, a gentle smile on his lips. “You need time. I understand. Take as much time as you need. I will be waiting for you when you are ready to talk again.”

Orla watched in rapt fascination as a shock of black hair sprouted on Gentro's arms. It took but a few moments and the shift was complete. Before her stood a huge, black wolf watching her with intelligent ice-blue eyes. Orla took a careful step closer and pushed her hand through the wolf's shiny black coat. She was awed by the magnificence of the beast before her. Was this what she looked like when she took on wolf form? The wolf moved its head, and Orla snickered when it licked her hand, finding the act ticklish. The wolf shook its massive body before it turned and trotted off.

Orla watched until her father disappeared into the horizon. The palace was quite a distance from here, but in wolf form it would take Gentro less than ten minutes to reach it.

She turned around and walked into the forest.

Chapter 19

Ridat tore the last piece of meat off the bone and tossed it away from him. The previous night's outing had been invigorating. He had worked up a ravenous appetite and had been gorging on the meat of a wild boar he caught early in the morning. He sat back and took a long sip from the cool, sweet wine. Who would have known that running through the woods would have such an energizing effect? He had not done that in many years. Maybe he should do it more often. The pack had enjoyed themselves tremendously after the gloomy spell when he had to kill the pup.

They were especially forgiving when he managed to take down two boars and a deer. They did not eat that much every day, but he knew that for the next two days the pack would be sufficiently fed. Maybe he would make use of their good spirits to launch a small expedition into Peron's territory. It was time that he shook things up again. His cousin was growing too complacent.

For years, he had watched and waited for Gentro to do something—anything. But the lily-livered fool had tried to live amongst humans at first. Imagine a god living amongst humans as a lowly soldier. It must have become too much, even for Gentro, because in the end he up and left civilization behind. That was twenty years ago, and still he was loitering around, waiting for who knew what. Ridat had expected Gentro to return to Greece after a few years, when he had not found a suitable wife. He wondered what Gentro was still doing here. With a throne awaiting him back home, the idiot built himself a small fortress in between two kingdoms — for what Ridat would love to find out.

There was soft shuffle of footsteps, and Ridat turned his gaze to the entrance of the cave. He beckoned his new general inside.

“Any news, Fenri?” He saw the astonished look on the man's face. Ridat was in a great mood and could afford to be nice today.

“Yes, milord. Our patrol stole into Peron's territory last night. They found two humans camping close to the border. One of them was Romulus. The other is still unknown, but we know she is human. I am awaiting word from our spies to confirm her identity.”

Ridat shrugged. “So Peron's lapdog took himself a human mate. I do not see any reason for us to waste resources trying to find out who she is.” Ridat was slowly losing his good mood. He abhorred incompetence.

The man suddenly looked as if he was standing on hot coals. He shifted from the one foot to the other.

“Good heavens, man, what is it that you are not telling me?”

“It is still not confirmed, but one of the guards is convinced that the woman is the Crown Princess of Karas.”

This tidbit of information had Ridat surging to his feet. Could it be? Was that the real reason why Peron had been hiding out here? He walked over to the man, so caught up in his thoughts, that he did not even see the man flinch at his proximity.

“I want you to have her identity confirmed before midnight. If she is indeed the princess, I want us to move in as soon as possible and capture her.”

“Yes, milord.” The man mumbled and practically rushed out of the cave. The moments ticked away, and still Ridat stood rooted to the spot. Peron had finally found himself a mate. A cruel smile formed on his lips.

Finally.

Things were looking up for him once again.

***

The rhythmic gait of the horse was slowly lulling Sterling into a light doze. They had not slept much last night after they spotted the wolves circling their camp. Even Rom looked a bit worse for wear. After a quick breakfast of leftover rabbit, they had packed up and begun their journey. She looked up at the tree tops and brought her horse to an abrupt stop. Something was not right. She slid off the horse and looked up again. The longer she stared, the angrier she got. She heard footsteps behind her and found Rom standing behind her, his face turned up.

“What is it?”

She swallowed to contain her rage before addressing him. “You really want to know?”

Rom blinked at her, having picked up on her anger. “Uh…yes.”

Sterling drew her sword, and Rom took a quick step back. “What were you hoping to gain?”

Holding up his hand, Rom shook his head. “Maybe if you tell me what it is I have done, I could tell you.”

“Did you seriously think I would not notice?” She took a threatening step closer, her sword gleaming in the afternoon sun. “You have been taking me in circles for the past few days.”

She saw Rom's eyes widen slightly. “I assure you if that was the case, it was not deliberate. I —?”

Sterling was shaking with anger. “Why, Rom?”

When he did not answer, she took a stab at him and saw sheer panic in his eyes as he danced out of reach. His reaction made Sterling frown. Five days ago, she had a blade to his neck and he did not even flinch.

“I was embarrassed to tell you that we are lost.”

“I do not believe you.” She swung her sword again and, this time, Rom put a greater distance between him and her weapon. “I demand the truth, Rom. Are you taking me to my wife or do you have an ulterior motive for having dragged me out here?”

“Please, milady, I promise you that my intentions for bringing you here are honorable. Your consort needs you and that is why I brought you here.”

Sterling took another step closer, causing Rom to back away quickly. “Then where is she, Rom? Your actions make you look guilty of foul play.” She tightened her grip on her sword and took a swipe at Rom.

“Fine…fine…fine…” He finally conceded. “I am not at liberty to give you the answers, but my prince can.”

His Prince?
This was the first time Rom had mentioned a prince. Could it be that Prince Halen of Arnat was hiding out here somewhere? She had trusted Rom to a certain extent over the past five days, even when she had her misgivings about him. But having caught him in an untruth, she was not so sure if she really wanted to spend one more night with him. Especially not when her senses had been dulled by exhaustion.

“Just point me in the direction of your prince and I will find my way to him…alone.”

This time Rom's face registered pure panic. “No…please…it is too dangerous for you to be out here alone. Let me take you to the palace.”

Sterling shook her head. “I can take care of myself.”

Rom took a careful step closer. He did not even flinch when she held her sword up to warn him off. It seemed his concern for her overrode his own fear.

“Please, you do not know what you are up against. I cannot let you go off alone, Your Highness.”

The time was ripe to test her theory. “Are you talking about the wolves?” She saw a strange look flash in Rom's dark-blue eyes. “Or are you referring to the Ulvs?”

This time Rom looked shocked. “What…what do you know about the Ulvs?”

“Enough to know how to protect myself.” She swung up on her horse. “Now, tell me which way to your palace.”

Rom looked almost close to tears. “You will never reach it before nightfall.”

“Then I will have to camp out here for one more night. Now, will you tell me, or should I find it myself?”

With hanging shoulders, Rom pointed in a southwesterly direction. Sterling gave him a poisonous glare.

“If the palace is in that direction, why were you leading me in the opposite direction?” She kicked her horse into a trot. “We will meet at the palace.”

An hour later, Sterling admitted to herself that she was lost. She looked around the dense forest trees and threw a concerned look upward. It was getting dark quite fast in this area of the woods. The hair at the back of her neck rose slightly, and she quickly moved a hand to her sword. The place was spooky with its eerie soundlessness. It was as if there were hundreds of eyes following her progress—waiting. After camping for four nights in these woods, she was not sure if she would be able to survive another night out here, especially not alone.

She reached for her water skin and almost dropped it when she caught a sudden move on her right. She relaxed immediately, when she met two large, dark eyes. The deer gave her a curious look, almost as if it wanted to warn her. After an odd moment of staring at each other, the deer snorted and disappeared amongst the thick foliage. Sterling eased Aria into movement. She was not sure why, but it seemed that staying stationary in this place was not a good idea. There was too much happening on a level she could not see but that she could feel. She suddenly remembered the water skin which was still clutched in her hand and pulled out the stopper with her teeth as she lifted it to her lips. Dismayed, she lowered it again. She rarely, if ever, allowed herself to run out of water. She would need to refill if she was going to spend the night here.

The deer! They rarely stray too far from water. There should be a source around here. She steered Aria in the direction the deer had gone and kept her eyes and ears open for the familiar sound of rushing water. With her hand not straying too far from her sword, she maneuvered her way deeper into the forest. The deeper in she went, the more quiet it became. It could only mean one thing. This territory had been claimed.

Sterling knew this because after her fourteenth summer, Cybralle had taken her on a hunting trip. The warrior had kept a low running commentary of the area—its sounds, sights, and even the sensations it gave to her as a hunter. They had entered a part of the forest which Sterling found to be very quiet and unsettling. Cybralle had given her a proud smile and whispered that they had stumbled into the territory of the largest beast in the area. Everything that was smaller than this beast was almost scared to breathe when it was near, plunging the area into silence.

Sterling's grip on her sword tightened, and she loosened her hold on the reins so she could reach for her crossbow. Ready for what might jump out at her. She brought Aria to a stop and listened intently. Yes, there it was—the sound she had been listening for. There was a river nearby. Not dropping her guard, she made her way toward the sound.

She had traveled but a few hundred meters when the foliage began to recede. Out from under the canopy of trees, Sterling was surprised to find that it was not as dark as she had thought. There were still a few hours of daylight left. The rays reflected on the rushing swells of water, blinding her momentarily. Sterling scanned the area from one end of the river to the other, as far as she could see. She did not want to be ambushed while replenishing her water skin. When she was sure that it was relatively safe to dismount, she slid off Aria and led the horse to the water. She stood watch as the mare drank, her throat convulsing with every sip. Once the horse had its fill, she untied her water skin from the saddle.

***

The dark, soundless vacuum she found herself in was wonderful. It helped to relieve the pressure of her thoughts and memories. Had she been in wolf form, she would have taken a long, hard run, not stopping until her lungs felt like they wanted to explode. She had done that so many times over the past weeks and it had worked wonders. It kept those haunting silver eyes from overrunning her dreams.

***

Setting her filled water skin aside, Sterling scooped a few handfuls of water into her mouth. Next to her, Aria was happily munching on the sweet, soft grass growing on the bank of the river. She did not want to disturb the mare, but it would be completely dark in a few hours and she wanted a camp set up by then. She squinted over the water. The river seemed to run deep in the middle. She would not want to get stuck between whatever ruled this territory and the river. She came to her feet. It was time to get out of here. Just as she was about to reach for Aria's reins, she heard a soft, plopping sound; scanning over the water, she watched and waited. The plop sounded again and, this time, Sterling caught sight of a glistening trout. Her mouth watered at the thought of supplementing her diet of rabbit with the soft, sweet-tasting flesh of trout.

“Well, girl, it seems I will dine like a princess tonight.” She quickly took off her boots. “Wait here for me. I will not be long.” She waded deeper into the water, closer to where a few large rocks protruded from the liquid landscape. Once she was knee deep in the water, she reached for her dagger. Two fat trout swam by and, with a practiced flick of her wrist, she threw her knife. Triumphantly, she dug into the slower current and grabbed the impaled fish.

***

Something felt different. Blue eyes snapped open. A pinkish streak passed before her eyes. Alarmed, she surged upward, water streaming down her face and body. They immediately fell on a dark clad figure, but a few feet from where she had lain submerged in a deep pool surrounded by big boulders. The figure spun around.

Orla drew in a sharp breath.

***

Sterling did not have long to celebrate her triumph, because an unexpected large splash behind her caused her to spin around. She raised the dagger in defense, with the plump trout still attached to the blade. It all happened in a few seconds, but the first thing she noticed about her attacker was its size and with a quick, practiced glance she looked for weapons. When she spotted none, her eyes flitted to the face.

She heard a sharply drawn breath even before she met pale-blue eyes. The air got stuck in her throat and the dagger slipped from her nerveless hand. She stared and stared…her eyes not straying once from the face she had dreamt of seeing again. She was so intent on etching the sorely missed features to her memory that the need to breathe faded from her consciousness. She stared, until the beloved image began to swim. She stared, still, when black began to stain the image.