The Ballad of Aramei (The Darkwoods Trilogy 3) - Page 5

I look at Isaac and Daisy back and forth, my mouth slightly hung open.

“I’m just going to assume I’m the one that did that?”

Isaac’s eyes crinkle around the edges and his mouth stretches marginally into a hard line. “Yeah, you sort of did that,” he says carefully.

I cringe. “Sort of did it?” I say. “There’s nothing sort of about that.” I point at the hole as if they don’t already know that it’s there. I let my hand drop to my side and walk over to the new basement exit, stepping around chunks of rock scattered all around the floor.

At least the view is nice. It’s a beautiful summer morning and the breeze is cool filtering through the trees that surround the house. The sun is shining and only a few white cumulus clouds hang in the sky.

After studying the jagged edges in the giant opening and letting the stun fade from my head I turn around to face Isaac and Daisy.

Isaac is grinning faintly again, enough that I can detect it, but it’s almost as if he’s trying to hide the fact that this somehow humors or delights him.

“And what’s so funny about this?” I say looking directly at Isaac.

Daisy is smiling too, but at least she’s trying to be understanding because clearly I’m not finding anything about what I did humorous or delightful.

“Well, it’s not exactly funny,” Isaac says, his lips lengthening into a smile even more evidently. “It’s just that…well, it’s hot.”

My head feels like there’s a spring in it as it jerks inward and my eyes crease under wrinkles of perplexity. “Hot?” I say. “Hot as in hot-hot or sexy-hot?”

Daisy is suppressing a giggle behind me, but I don’t take my eyes off Isaac who has some serious explaining to do. I put my hands on my h*ps and I’m sure I look like my mother did when I was little, but I don’t care.

“Sexy-hot,” Isaac says. He moves in close and places his hands on each of my shoulders, cocking his head to one side. Oh great; there’s that irresistible grin of his that causes me to fold every time. “Obviously, this is how you escaped last night. It’s hot because you’re stronger than any girl I’ve known who was Turned and not born a werewolf.”

He must be mistaken. That’s absurd.

I look back at the wall opening and say, “It was just a weak wall.” Then I turn to see Isaac again. “This is an old house.”

He kisses my cheek and says afterwards, “I told you about this, remember?”

“About what?” I say, and I really can’t recall just yet what he’s referring to, but somehow I know it’s about to be an Oh, that! moment.

“About females often turning out stronger than males,” Isaac answers.

“Oh, that…,” I say, stepping away from him.

I’m not as laid-back about this news as they clearly appear to be and Isaac detects it right away. I turn my back on him and walk back to the opening in the rock wall and step out into the partial sunlight.

I hear Daisy and Isaac whispering to each other, but I’m too involved in my own thoughts to wonder about what they’re saying. Besides, when Isaac joins me outside and I hear Daisy’s footsteps fading as she goes back up the basement steps it’s sort of obvious they were agreeing that Isaac should ‘take it from here’.

I turn to look at him immediately, letting my arms fall back at my sides. “Okay, so where am I supposed to go every month if there’s no basement to shackle me to?”

Isaac lets out a sigh and his shoulders relax. It’s as if he had been trying to figure out exactly what was bothering me and realized too late what should’ve been obvious in the beginning.

“We have a month to figure it out,” he says. “It’s really not an issue.”

“Isaac, I could’ve hurt…killed someone last night.”

He steps back up to me, raising my chin with his fingertip. “We’ll fix it,” he says. “And before you say it, I mean the situation, not the basement wall.” Another grin creeps up at the corner of his mouth and I can’t help but smile a little.

I go to kiss him until the sound of rocks and earth grinding under several sets of tires funnels around to us from the end of the driveway at the main road. Isaac’s gaze is solely fixed on the back of the house as if he’s staring right through it to see who’s pulling into the drive. That intense look etched in his expression instantly has me on edge.

I feel his fingers slip through mine and then his grip tightens around my hand. Before I even think to ask what’s going on, we’re walking around the side of the house and into the front yard where three 4-wheel drive SUV’s and one massive black Escalade are pulling up to the front of the house. My heart is hammering inside my chest and I don’t even know who’s inside the vehicles yet. I have this feeling in my gut, twisting my insides into knots and it’s telling me that I probably don’t want to know.

Standing just at the edge of the front of the house, Isaac reaches out his hand and carefully pushes me to stand behind him instead of at his side. I don’t argue.

“Who’s that?” I whisper harshly.

“It’s my father,” he says quietly, never taking his eyes off the vehicles.

Figures pile out of the SUV’s; tall, brute men that I know aren’t really human. I count twelve of them who each take up a position in the yard and around the house. One in particular walks right past Isaac and me to stand watch at the back of the house. My eyes lock on him as he walks by and for a moment I can’t look at anything else, my mind is lost in theories of what this could be about. Trajan doesn’t come here often and I can count the times I’ve seen him at this house on one hand, but never has he come here with an entourage. And I’m a little discouraged that Raul, the ancient werewolf soldier whom Isaac is good friends with, isn’t among them. Seeing him might have made me feel better about this. Maybe. Okay, probably not.

The driver’s door opens on the Escalade and another guard steps out wearing average clothes like the rest of the guards: dark jeans, tight-fitting t-shirt and black biker boots. He moves to the back door and opens it and Trajan steps out. He is always more handsome and intimidating and frightening than anyone in his company. I can never understand how someone can seethe so much power, how he can put fear in the hearts of men simply with the turning of his gaze or the solemnity of his expression.

I said before that I don’t fear anything, but that was a lie. Trajan Mayfair, or rather Lord General Vukašin Prvovencani, is the one I fear.

But why is he here?

I step up closer behind Isaac, watching the scene from the view around his shoulder.

Isaac bows his head as Trajan locks eyes with him, but Isaac doesn’t take his hand from behind his back which holds onto my arm protectively. Trajan stops only a few feet from the Escalade and folds his hands behind him on his backside. And suddenly I feel his gaze on me. I don’t just see it I feel it, like he’s under the surface of my skin, raging like a fever. I swallow hard but the knot in my throat just won’t go down.

“Father.” Isaac says in greeting.

I hear the front door of the house open and several people from inside come out onto the porch, but I find myself focusing on something…someone else. I hear a delicate, steady heart beating, the rise and fall of soft breaths. I can smell the sweetness of musk oils and vanilla and lavender heavily on the air. My heart falls when I realize that Aramei is somewhere inside that Escalade. It’s like I can feel her inside of me, I can taste her on my lips and hear her heartbeat underneath the sound of my own. My throat begins to close up with tears, but I’m stronger now and I force them back into the deepest part of my chest.

Then I hear a voice in my head:

“We need to talk,” Trajan says to me and apparently to Isaac at the same time. “Isaac, you will go inside and instruct your pack to remain inside. All of them. Adria will join me in the vehicle.”

Isaac’s hand tightens around my arm and his body stiffens. The link stuns me at first; I shouldn’t be able to hear anyone’s thoughts or telepathic communication other than Isaac and Harry’s.

Isaac must’ve opened his link with his father to me.

“But father,” he says telepathically and I can hear the unease in his words, “I mean no disrespect, but I cannot leave her. Not alone with you.”

My eyes feel bigger all of a sudden and I turn my head robotically to look up at him, stepping around his side just a few inches so that he can see the worried look on my face. The thought of sitting alone anywhere with Trajan is alarming, but I think Isaac refusing to do what his father commanded is more-so.

“You will leave her alone with me,” Trajan says and I see that his solid, emotionless expression never wavers. “I will not harm her.” It was an intolerant demand spoken in the calmest of words, yet at the same time I could sense that Trajan was also doing right by his Alpha son by giving him his word that he won’t hurt me. Trajan would never feel the need to give anyone his word, or the need to explain himself. I know that he would kill someone first before ever offering such an accommodation as this.

And Trajan isn’t the type to lie or use manipulative tactics like Viktor Vargas would. Trajan doesn’t need to. This alone gives me reason to trust in his words and so I step out the rest of the way from behind Isaac.

“I’ll be fine,” I say aloud, putting my hands on Isaac’s hand before he can grab me. “I believe him.”

Isaac’s chin rolls outward, the look on his face unsure, concerned, but he knows as well as I do that we have to give in to what his father commands or else the situation will quickly take a violent turn.

“Leave your mind open to me,” Isaac whispers and I nod once, agreeing.

I peer deeply into his bright blue eyes and let our thoughts sync. Instantly my head feels slightly heavier as Isaac’s mind wanders through mine and latches on the same way he had been physically latching onto my body just seconds ago.

His jaw moves as he grits his teeth harshly behind his tightly closed lips.

Isaac looks back at his father, nods and reluctantly lets go of my hand. I soften my eyes on him, hoping to calm him even more and then I walk toward Trajan, feeling every one of my steps pulling me farther and farther away from the safety of Isaac’s arms. The last time I stood face to face with Trajan was the night I was rescued from Viktor Vargas. Trajan looked down at me that night from his massive height and body; he is the biggest and deadliest werewolf in the world and I stood up to him. I didn’t fear him an ounce. He had just thrown Isaac through the wall of the Vargas house and out into the snow, saving Viktor from being killed by Isaac’s hand. Something in my mind clicked when it happened and fear was the last emotion that I could evoke in that moment. Rage, anger and hatred were all that I could feel and I had let Trajan know it.

And he didn’t kill me.

But right now, I’m not feeling those vengeful emotions which had helped to smother the fear in the past and as I stand before Trajan now, I can’t help but be immensely nervous and exude a childlike timidity in front of him. I fold my hands together in front of me and bow my head once out of respect. I don’t know if I’m doing it right, but hopefully Trajan will overlook it if I’m not. Just give me points for trying, please. Thanks.

Tags: J.A. Redmerski The Darkwoods Trilogy Fantasy
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