Wilde's Fire (Darkness Falls #1) (28 page)

Flanna gets up first, then stands next to me. “Thanks for getting the milk. Lunch would not have been the same without it—and since I no longer have
time
… .” She glares at Arland, but it’s all in good humor.

Last week, he cleared me from lunch preparations. I was a little overwhelmed with my rigorous schedule of kitchen duty, training, private lessons with the children, cleaning the stables, working with the horses, and spending time with Brad.

But Flanna hasn’t let her cousin hear the end of it.

I don’t know how she handles everything around here with such ease; I have to give her credit. She’s always in such a pleasant mood, too—singing, laughing, and playing jokes on the children and soldiers. The sun may not shine, but Flanna adds as much, if not more, warmth as the sun.

“It was your idea,” Arland says, eyebrow arched.

She sighs. “Just because I said she was falling asleep during lunch did not mean I wanted her to be taken away from me. I miss her. Who else can I nag to cut potatoes?”

He laughs. “In a few days, we will be at Willow Falls, and you will no longer be responsible for cooking.” Arland pulls out my chair, then takes me by the hand, helping me up. “We must go.”

We leave the room and walk up the stairs leading outside.

I don’t expect to be skilled with bows, just like I’m not good with magic. Of all the spells he’s shown me, I’ve not been able to do more than create a quick spark in my hand—like a lighter without fluid—or slam a few doors in my own face.

Arland has been kind not to laugh at me. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, but I’d like Arland to be my first. The gentle, caring nature he shows me, and his people, is so alluring, it makes him even more desirable. Any doubts I had about his feelings for me have disappeared. Instead of holding my hand, he now laces his fingers with mine when we walk through the woods or up to the stables. When he has to leave me, even for a short time, his absence is preceded by a kiss to my hand, or my forehead when we’re somewhere private.

We enter the training facility alone.

“Choose a bow from the table, and meet me back at the first long hall,” Arland says.

I pick up the first bow on the table, then hurry back to him.

He steps behind me, puts his right arm over mine, guides my hands and fingers to the proper places on the weapon, then takes the bow in his left hand. “Relax your muscles, Kate.”

Arland shows me how to notch the arrow. “Keep your bow facing the ground until you are ready to aim and shoot. Aim slightly above your target to make up for the drop the arrow will have over the distance. When you release, do not think about it; just let it fly.” He takes a step back.

“Like this?” I look at the target and aim slightly above the bull’s-eye, lift the bow, pull back, then let the arrow go, as he said.

It falls to the ground, about ten feet in front of the target.

“Oops.” I laugh.

Arland steps up with his own bow and demonstrates how it should be done. He hits the target dead in the center.

“Show-off!” I exclaim.

Arland gives me an encouraging smile. “Try again.”

On my second try, the arrow skids across the floor about fifteen feet in front of the target. Twelve more times I attempt, each time missing terribly. The arrow hurts my fingers. The bow feels awkward in my hand. Thankfully, this is a private lesson; otherwise, I would have been humiliated in front of the others.

Arland releases another arrow into the center of the target. “I believe we have found a weapon you are not skilled with. It is a good thing, too. I was beginning to feel like you might not need me.”

“Of course I need you,” I say, putting a double meaning on my words.

Arland smiles wryly. “Would you like to try again?”

I glare at him.

“It was just an offer.” He puts up his hands in surrender. “We do not have to continue. You will be much better off with a sword. But I will never leave your side, so the likelihood you will even need to use it is slim.”

Arland points me toward the weapons table.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I tease.

We leave my bow behind, and I re-arm myself with the claymore. Arland holds my hand as we exit the center; his thumb caresses mine. Every time he shows these simple little affections, my heart hurts for more of him—for us finally to take that step. But, then I worry about Perth, and I try to push the longing away.

Halfway between the training center and the base, Arland stops.

“What is it?” I ask, as quietly as possible, afraid something might be following us.

Arland faces me. His jaw is set, his eyes serious. “I need to share something with you.”

My heart skips a few beats. “Is something out here?”

Arland puts his hands on my shoulders and gives them a slight squeeze, dissolving my tension. He pulls me against him and wraps his arms around me. “Everything is okay.”

With us this close, I think he’s right—everything
will
be okay.

“Kate, I pray to the gods this does not come across the wrong way.” Arland looks up to the black sky, then returns his burning green gaze to me.

I tip my head back to see him; our faces are so close.

“The last few weeks, since you arrived, I have changed. I never in my life expected to feel so connected, so in-tune, so close to someone. I have not been this happy since before my mother was killed.”

Arland doesn’t have to say anything else; my feelings equal his.

I smile up at him. “Me, too.”

His confession was much nicer than mine was; I’m afraid if I try to speak, my words will all come out in a jumble. But I think what I said was enough for Arland to understand my feelings.

Our bodies press against each other, sending excitement over every inch of my skin. He uses one hand on my back to pull me closer to him, as if I’m fragile, while his other hand cups my cheek. I’m surrounded by Arland’s warmth. He gazes into my eyes—into my soul—and my pulse races. I wrap my arms around his neck.

Arland takes his time, giving
me
time to memorize this moment, as he leans his head down, closes his eyes, and presses his mouth to mine. He parts my lips, slowly and sweetly. I ignore the fact we’re in a dark forest in a world full of turmoil, ignore everything while we kiss. Arland digs his fingertips into my back, pulling me even closer, stealing my breath away, and making me want this to last forever.

My body is on fire; everything I’ve felt for Arland, since meeting him in real life and from years of dreaming of him, all flows freely out of me and into this greeting of our lips.

Arland’s kiss deepens, becoming more intimate. He moves his hand from my face to caress my shoulder. Tracing his fingertips down my arms, Arland sends chills along them. He takes my hands into his own and moves his head back.

“Mmm,” he manages to say through my favorite wide smile.

“Arland—” I begin, but he cuts me off with another sweet kiss, making me gasp for air.

His lips are so warm, so soft, so gentle; I’m totally lost in this moment. I have no idea what I was going to say to him.

He pulls back with another smile.

“You wanted to say something.” His voice is low, throaty, flooded with seduction.

“I-I—” I’m unable to formulate a coherent thought. There is so much I want to say. I want to tell him we should stay this way forever, that we should run away together, that I’ve fallen head over heels for him, but my brain melts into mush, leaving me flustered by his kisses.

He squeezes me in his arms. “You do not have to say anything.”

This moment is so much different from what I experienced with Brad. There is no confusion for me or Arland; we both wanted this kiss.
I’ve
wanted to share this exchange since the first night we bathed together. The buildup of anticipation wasn’t ever there with Brad. When he heals—if he heals—this is going to break his heart, but I push these thoughts from my mind and enjoy myself.

Locked in an embrace, Arland and I stare into each other’s eyes. There are so many unspoken words and new concerns, but I try not to worry. I stand on my toes to kiss Arland again.

The bushes rustle.

He tightens his hold on me. “Move away slowly. Remember, the daemons cannot see us, but you will be able to see them.”

We turn and walk toward the base, but I look over my shoulder.

A coscartha emerges from the Darkness.

I close my eyes. “I-it’s behind us … .”

“Open your eyes, Kate. It has turned off the path,” Arland says, rubbing my hand.

Trembling, I glance around and take a deep breath. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t have any idea how I’m supposed to save everyone when
one
daemon scares me so much.”

“We will—”

Shrieks come from our right.

Arland stops and stands still.

“What? W-What is it?” I look everywhere, at everything.

Arland is listening. Is he afraid? Has the spell broken?

A twig snaps, echoing through the forest.

He jerks his head toward the sound.

“Run,” Arland says, pushing my shoulder.

The blood in my hands runs cold; my knees wobble. I can’t run. I look up at him. “Ar—”

A lone coscartha jumps at Arland from behind a tree, claws poised to kill.

I push him to the side, and in one concise motion, remove my sword from my holster and stab the daemon through the chest.

All around us, the forest lights up with millions of brilliant colors; reds, golds, whites, blues, and so many others. I look down at my sword; it blazes with bright, blue flames, similar to the one Arland created in his hand, but a million times more powerful.

The daemon writhes on the ground, twisting and screaming as the fire steals its life.

The yellow light I followed in the forest, which led me to Encardia, swirls around me, more intense than the other colors.

Arland stares, probably in shock, at the bright forest around us. He shakes his head, snapping out of his trance. “We have to get you inside. Now!”

Turning me by my shoulders, Arland pushes me to run as fast as I can.

More creatures approach behind us. I hear each of their feet hit the earth as they run, trying to catch us.

I count footsteps, making notes about our opponents.

“If we run to the base, they’ll know where we are. Everyone will be at risk.” I gasp for air.

“Let’s turn and fight. There are only three of them.” I have absolutely no idea where this bravery comes from.

Arland pushes me forward. “I do not want you to get hurt.”

“Then help me fight.”

I stop running.

Arland crashes into me, but I move around him and face the daemons.

I’m so mad at these creatures for ruining our first kiss. An angry rage burns inside me, boiling in my blood. I let it flow through me, but instead of being blinded by rage, I feel powerful, capable … willing.

Three of the gray, mangled coscarthas move forward, encircling us as a predator might hunt down its prey.

Holding my sword ready to strike, I close my eyes.

Please help us, God.

Opening my eyes again, I find the world has taken on a different appearance. Everything is filled with bright light. The Darkness above our heads has split open; the sun shines through the trees, illuminating the brown forest. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sunshine, I have to shield myself from the blinding rays.

The plants around us don’t waste time—they stretch up their limp leaves and limbs toward the sky, reaching for the same thing from which I’m shielding myself.

Slinking back into the surrounding Darkness, the daemons squint their black eyes and stare up at the sky. They look at each other, then us. Without a fight, they run away.

Arland turns me around again. “Go!”

Reaching the base, I pull up the door in the ground and jump inside with him right behind me. He slides the bar over the door, locking it.

The dark stairwell pulsates with blue light.

I
am glowing.

Arland pins me against the wall by the stairs. “You never cease to amaze me. You
are
Light!” he says, moving in to kiss me again, this time much more intensely. Near-death experiences seem to make people’s emotions run wild.

Pulling away, he breathes heavily. “It would have been much easier if this did not happen.”

“If what didn’t happen?” I ask, just as breathless.

Captivating me with his eyes, he cups my cheek in his palm and rubs his thumb across my skin. “If I did not fall in love with you.”

I smile, but have no words to offer. I
am
deeply in love with Arland. I’ve never imagined how easy it could be, but here I am, a few weeks into knowing someone, and I’ve fallen for him. No longer am I confused by my feelings for Brad. While I know I love him, it’s nothing like what I feel now. And no longer do I believe these are remnant emotions from my dreams. For the first time in my life, I know what I want, and I have him.

Arland releases me from the wall. The distance between us drains me. “I have to speak with Lann and figure out how we had a perimeter breach. Then we should ride out to the clearing.”

“Why are we going to go there again?” I ask, not wanting to move from this spot.

“The yellow light, your dream about Griandor having a sister, the portal being closed—everything is connected. It
was
Griandor’s sister who brought you here; I am almost positive. Gramhara is the goddess of love. It is love that brings magic out of you.”

All this time, the answer has been right in front of me. The key to getting Brad home, the key to seeing my sister, my mom, the farm—it all springs from my love for Arland. My dreams—all of the passionate moments, all the
I love you
s
,
and the pain of losing him—must have been clues to my magic, my power.

Arland gives me a slight shake. “Kate, breathe!”

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I’m breathing. I’m just in shock. We’re really going back to the clearing? Do you think it will work?” I think of my sister’s witty comments, and my mom, and how much I need to talk to her … and how much I miss them both. We might even have a chance to get Brad home before we have to leave for Wickward. I want to kiss Arland again, but it’s too dangerous. We’ve already risked enough.