Page 9 of Moon Chosen


  "Very, and that is why we mustn't waste any more time." He slid out of bed and I fell face-first into the mattress.

  I raised my head and glared at him. "Can't we take a break for more than five minutes?"

  "No," he replied as he dressed himself. He finished and tossed a thick dress onto the bed. "The day's growing shorter. We should at least resume the search of the library for some clue to break this curse between us."

  I grabbed the dress and rolled my eyes. "All you do is work, work, work. Any chance you ever take a vacation from these duties you assign yourself?"

  "Not when this detestable curse keeps interfering with my life," he argued.

  I hugged the dress to myself and frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  He turned away from me. "It means what it means."

  That struck a nerve. My feminine pride was at stake, and my heart feared my recent happiness was a fluke, a lie. "Like hell it does," I snapped. I flung on the dress, jumped from the bed and marched up to him. "I know we're stuck together because of your dad, but that doesn't mean we have to start insulting each other because we don't like what's going on between us. Like you said, neither of us has control over it."

  His hands balled into fists at his side and he ground his teeth together. "This lack of control is inexcusable. Nothing good has, or will ever, come from this union. That is why we must find a way to break this curse." Greenwood brushed past me and strode towards the door.

  I grabbed his arm and arrested his movements. I slipped in front of him and stared into his eyes. They were as indifferent as during the Choosing. "Are you really telling me that after everything we've done and been through, I shouldn't trust you?"

  "What we've been through was brought about only because of the bonding. Any affection between us is a lie," he argued.

  His words struck my heart more accurately than any arrow. My mouth fell open and my hand slid off his arm. He passed by me and strode from the room without once looking back. I clutched my shaking hands against myself and shut my eyes. Tears broke through my lids and poured down my cheeks.

  After all we'd been through, after all he'd done for me, it was all a lie. He followed the bond, that stupid Choosing, and that's it. It would never be anything more. I couldn't even expect companionship from this monster of a man, much less what I wanted.

  That's when I realized I loved him. I loved this stoic man who had no affection for me beyond carnal desire. If we remained together he would blame his father, but hate me for it.

  A sob escaped my lips. "Damn it. . ." I muttered. "Why'd you have to go and fall in love with that asshole?"

  We're stuck together.

  I pressed my lips together and raised my head. No, we weren't stuck together. If he could despise me in our bond, then I could damn well find the strength to leave him. I'd prove him wrong and escape from this horrible place. I straightened and inspected the room. The bed sheets were thick. I grabbed one and wrapped it around me as a cloak.

  I peeked my head out of the room. The passage was empty. The open, arched windows showed the rain still fell in great, thick streams, helped on by gusts of wind that swept some of the moisture into the hallway. The windows gave me an idea. I grabbed a bundle of the bed sheets and tied them together. I slipped from the room and to the nearest window. My impromptu rope was flung over the side. I leaned over and saw it was only five feet short of the ground.

  I swung first one leg over, and then the other. The rain dampened the sheets and made them slick, but I clung to them and made my way slowly to the ground. The sheer wall was forty feet off the ground, and I reached the end of my rope with joy and dread. There was still the drop. It was almost my full height.

  I took a deep breath and let go of the blankets. My legs hit the ground hard and I fell onto my rear. The rain soaked my sheet, but I tied it tight around me so my clothes would remain dry. The wind tore at my cloak as I hurried across the ground until I was twenty feet away. Then I risked a look back. All was dark and still.

  I hurried over the rocks to my right. The rocky trail led around the rear side of the Old Den and the side door. The path wasn't easy. I slipped on the slick ground and cut my hands on the sharp rocks. That strange, persistent longing for my mate pulled at me, but I grit my teeth and forced myself onward.

  I reached the side door and followed the path to the underground. My objective fell short of the cave. I aimed to use that boat to make my getaway, and I wasn't disappointed when I arrived at the broken boulder and peered through the crack. The boat was still moored to the old dock.

  I scurried around the rock and down the hillside. The path was steep and narrow, and small stones slid out from beneath my feet. I clung to the larger rocks and slipped down one foot at a time until I reached the old dock. The rain beat down on my head and swept past me in small streams. The water splashed into the white waves that the wind whipped up.

  The boat bounced up and down over the waves. I grabbed its rope and pulled it as close to me as I could, but the broken, rotting boards that had fallen into the water kept the boat at a distance.. There was still a foot-wide gap I would need to jump.

  That irritating longing in my mind increased. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when a howl tore through the sounds of the storm. I looked up the hillside path and glimpsed two forms around the cracked boulder. I didn't need super sniffing or smell to know one of them was my mate, and he wasn't happy.

  The larger of the two shadows bounded down the path. I didn't have time. I had to jump.

  I let go of the rope and sprang at the boat. The waves crashed into both the boat and me. One of my legs slid into the boat, but the other fell short. I fell backward into the water. The white tide retreated and took me with it. I was pulled ten yards out. My heavy cloak dragged me beneath the surface. I flailed and kicked, but up was not where I thought. The tide slammed into me and shoved me into the submerged rocks along the coast. I gasped at the pain and water rushed into my lungs.

  My frantic mind grew fuzzy. My limbs wouldn't obey me. I felt myself falling deeper into the water. The dark depths of the lake awaited me. It would be a watery grave where no one would ever find me.

  Someone grabbed one of my arms and pulled me against them. My cloak was torn from my neck and went to that watery grave without me. The person kicked and propelled us downward, or so my mind thought. We broke the surface and I coughed out a half gallon of lake water. We were twenty yards from the land, but I could just make out the shape of a slim figure on the bank. My rescuer swam us to that person, and I saw they wore a beautiful green cloak. There was enough light to recognize Lady Greenwood.

  She took me in her arms and pulled me onto the shore. I lay on my stomach and choked on the water that spat from my mouth. She draped her cloak over me and rubbed my back.

  "You'll be fine now," she assured me.

  My rescuer knelt by my side. I looked through my tangles of hair and saw it was Erik. He breathed rapidly and his clothes were soaked.

  "Why?" I choked out. "Why. . .save me. . .when you hate me. . .so much?"

  Lady Greenwood set her hand on my shoulder and shook her head. "Don't speak. Save your strength," she advised me. I noticed her eyes flickered to her son and she pursed her lips. "You can speak about this later in your room."

  Erik lifted me into his arms and stood. He struggled up the slope with his mother behind us. We returned to the Old Den and Lady Greenwood followed us all the way to our bedroom door. She set a hand on Erik's shoulder, and he partially turned us to face his mother.

  Lady Greenwood smiled softly at us. "I know neither of you wished for this companionship, but if you do seek to break your bond then you would suggest you come to some agreement." She bowed her head and strode down the hall.

  Erik carried me into our room and set me on the bed. He rang the cord and waited beside the buffet.

  I willed myself to sit up. My body was wet and exhausted. Erik glanced over his shoulder and glared at me. He mar
ched over to the bed, grabbed my shoulders and pushed me onto the covers.

  "Remain here," he insisted.

  "I. . .I need new clothes," I pointed out.

  There came a knock on the door and Greg opened the entrance. "Prepare a hot water for your mistress," Erik ordered his servant. Greg bowed his head and hurried to obey.

  "Now hold still," Erik ordered me.

  Erik pulled his mother's cloak from my shoulders and he helped me off with my limp dress. I was as weak as a babe and could hardly lift my arms so he could slip my dress over my head. He gathered dry towels and wrapped me in the largest. Erik propped my back against the head of the bed. I snuggled beneath the thick, dry cloth and some of my humor returned.

  "No. . .no fire, please. I don't think I'm. . .quite up to another sexy session," I teased. He didn't crack a smile, but he did take a seat on the edge of the bed beside me. His eyes searched my face, and I blushed under his close inspection. "What?" I questioned him.

  "I was wrong," he admitted.

  I blinked at him. "Wrong about what?"

  "About your resolve. You fought our bond and almost succeeded in escaping," he explained.

  I snorted and pulled my blanket closer around me. "And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn't for this terrible weather."

  Erik looked to the ground and turned away from me. His voice was quiet and soft. "Yes, you probably would have."

  I frowned. "Isn't that what you want? Me to just go away? I'm just a irritation, remember?"

  He shook his head. "I was wrong to say those things. I-" He shoulders slumped and sighed. "I apologize."

  My eyes widened. "Really?"

  "Really."

  I folded my arms across my chest and leaned towards him with narrowed eyes. "Talk's cheap. If you're really sorry then some things are going to have to change around here."

  He lifted his head and an eyebrow at me. "Change?"

  "Yeah, like you dragging me everywhere without first telling me what we're doing and where we're going. I don't want to know what's going on in that head of yours, but a heads up would be kind of nice," I insisted.

  He bowed his head. "Fair enough."

  "And I want some clothes other than a dress. The only thing I can do in those is drowned," I told him.

  "I'll see what I can do."

  "And I want to move our bedroom."

  "That's a request I'm not fulfilling."

  "Damn. Can't blame a girl for trying," I mused.

  A smile slipped onto his lips. "I must admit you puzzle me. You've been taken from your home and shoved into my world, and yet you can still joke."

  I shrugged. "I don't have much of a choice. Besides, I can count on you to be there for me when the going gets tough." I leaned towards him and looked him over. "I can count on you now, right?"

  "For as long as we're bound," he swore.

  "And we're both going to work on getting that fixed together, right?" I persisted.

  "If you think you can help," he mused.

  "Then it's a deal." I held out my hand to him. "Shake, or it isn't sealed."

  He chuckled and shook my head. "This may be the beginning of a very interesting relationship."

  MOON CHOSEN #3

  CHAPTER 1

  "I'd be more useful to both of us in the library," he reminded me.

  "So would I, but misery loves company, so you're coming," I demanded.

  "I will tell your parents to expect you both," Greg spoke up.

  Erik spun around and glared at his servant. "You would follow her orders over mine, Gregory?"

  Greg smiled and shook his head. "No, my Master, I would never do such a thing."

  "Good, then you will tell my parents-"

  "That they will expect you both." Greg slipped into the open door and grabbed the large metal handle. "I will do that immediately, my Master." Erik opened his mouth, but Greg stepped into the hall and shut the door behind him.

  "Gregory! Gregory!" Erik shouted. I burst out laughing. Erik spun around and glared at me. "You have already instigated a mutiny in my servant."

  I held up my hands. "I didn't do anything. He's the sassy servant."

  Erik pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it. . ." he muttered.

  I nodded at the closed door. "How long have you known that guy, anyway?"

  Erik cast a dark look over his shoulder at the entrance. "All my life, such as it is."

  "That sounds very brooding. So like you," I quipped as I hopped out of bed. I made sure to bring some sheets with me to the dresser.

  He raised an eyebrow. "I do not brood. I contemplate."

  I snorted. "You brood like a dark hero in a bad romance novel." I rummaged through the drawers.

  "The bottom one," he told me.

  I scowled at him. "I was getting there." I knelt and opened the drawer. It held a wide assortment of clothes except they were all dresses. I picked one up and held it out to him. "Really? All dresses?"

  "It's traditional," he explained.

  I scowled, tossed the dress into the drawer and slammed it shut with my foot. "Well, time for tradition to die." I opened the top drawers that held his clothes and swiped a shirt and pants.

  "Those are mine!" he reminded me.

  "Not any more." I dashed to the bed with my swiped treasures and dropped them on the covers. I glanced over my shoulder and spun one of my fingers in a circle. "Turn around."

  "I've seen everything-"

  "Yes, and I know what you do when you see everything, now spin it," I ordered him. He pursed his lips, but turned away from me. I quickly dropped the bed sheet and slipped into his clothes. "All right, you can look," I told him.

  Erik turned and sighed. The sleeves dangled over my hands and the pants dragged along the floor. "Those do not fit you," he pointed out.

  "So I've noticed, but I'm not getting into another dress so I can drowned in it," I argued.

  "You wouldn't have been drowning if you hadn't left the room," he countered.

  I crossed my arms and the sleeves flapped against me. "I wasn't going to stay here with a brooding-"

  "Contemplative."

  "-sullenly contemplative guy who said he couldn't wait to get rid of me," I snapped.

  "We've remedied that situation, though, haven't we?" he mused.

  I narrowed my eyes and pointed a flopping sleeve at him. "For now, but no more funny stuff about how I'm useless or anything like that. I'm plenty useful."

  He raised an eyebrow. "How?"

  "I-um, I can-um. . .I can think of plans to escape!" I insisted.

  Erik pursed his lips and turned away from me. "There is that question, isn't there?" he murmured.

  I blinked at him. "What question?"

  He paced the floor in front of the buffet and entrance. "Boats are strictly regulated among the islands to prevent their being spotted by outsiders," he explained. "The boat you found didn't have the insignia of a full moon on the starboard side of the bow."

  "What's that mean?" I asked him.

  "The full moon shows the boat has been licensed by the Council," he told me.

  I frowned. "So you're saying I found an illegal boat or something?"

  "Yes."

  "So what's that mean?"

  He shook his head. "I can't figure it out, but I'll discuss it with my father during this 'family breakfast.'"

  I held up my long sleeves. "Think I'm overdressed?"

  He snorted. "I believe you are something, but we will ask Greg to see to the changes." He stopped his pacing and pulled the cord.

  "Greg? What's he got to do with my long sleeves?" I asked him.

  "Gregory is proficient in a number of useful skills," Erik explained.

  Greg soon made his entrance, and he bowed to both of us. "Your parents are expecting you at any moment," he told us.

  Erik gestured to me. "We have a problem."

  Greg looked past his master and grinned at me. "I see your point, my Master. She isn't quite your siz
e."

  "Can you fix it in a short time?" Erik asked him.

  Greg strode up to me and lifted a limp sleeve. "Yes, but only with pins and needles. A permanent fix will have to come later when I have more time."

  "Think you can fix up a couple more outfits for me while we're eating?" I pleaded.

  Greg smiled and bowed his head. "Of course. I will use any spare clothes of my Master."

  Erik frowned. "Spare only," he emphasized.

  "Of course, my Master. Is there anything else you wish of me?" Greg wondered.

  "I wish to speak with you after the breakfast," Erik told him.

  Greg bowed his head. "Then I will await your return here."

  "Good. Now get to your fixing so Father won't throw himself into a tantrum," Erik commanded him.

  Greg pulled a small, thin wallet from inside his shirt and opened the flap to reveal a small collection of needles and pins. He studied me and pulled out several of the smallest. "Please hold still, Sophie, or this will hurt." I cringed and held still. He knelt in front of me and tugged at my sleeves. "Raise your arms. That's it. Don't hold your breath. I want this to breathe on you. Face forward."

  "You're making this hard to hold-ouch!" I yelped.

  Greg looked up and his eyes shone with mischief. "I must ask that you not speak. It ruins my concentration."

  "Concentration my ass. . ." I mumbled.

  Greg finished his work in a few minutes and stepped back. "There. Drop your arms, please." I dropped my arms and he looked me over. The sleeves were now rolled up into themselves to hide the rolls and the same was done to the cuffs of my pants. The waist was pinned tight with a pin and the bottom hem of the shirt was partially tucked into the waist so it billowed down over the waist pin. "Yes, I think that will do," he commented.

  "Splendidly, as always, but now we should go," Erik insisted. He offered me his arm, and I took it.

  "Master, you do know your father won't approve of this fine new uniform for your mate, don't you?" Greg pointed out.

  Erik turned us towards the door, but paused and glanced over his shoulder. His lips sported a grin. "I'm counting on that."

  I rolled my eyes and Erik led me from the room.

  "You and your dad have some strange ways of playing with each other," I commented as we walked down the hall.

  "I suppose you could call it a sort of a game. We've always been at odds, or rather, if he was even I sought to be odd, and vice versa," Erik mused.