Married by Treachery Page 12

  The problem was that a large and quickly growing part of her wanted him to win. It wanted him to court her as Dream Jake would have done, and it persisted that his motivation was more than just this game. That he actually felt something for her beyond triumph.

  But soon after they left the others, Jake fell back into silence, and the sound of Vizzi’s gallop served as their only conversation. It rumbled like Raquel’s heart, these erratic beats and pounding rhythms, full of questions and yearnings she could neither allay nor understand.

  Until she could no longer bear it.

  And when Jake slowed Vizzi to a walk, Raquel said, “Is there something wrong, Highness?”

  She swayed with him in the saddle.

  “I don’t know, is there?” His tone teased, but a brusque undercurrent clipped his words.

  Raquel stole a glance back at him. His shrewd gaze fixed immutably ahead, his kith features as sharp as steel. He was all purpose, all drive and fierce determination—a man riding hard for the attainment of his goal.

  “You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” Raquel said.

  “I’m focused on the path ahead. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s just you and me”—Vizzi snorted, and Jake patted Vizzi’s haunches—“and dear old Vizzi; of course I would never forget you, boy…but I would prefer we not be caught unaware by a horde of Depraved. Stubborn as you are, my bride, not even you would survive another infection.”

  Raquel considered him. “It’s more than that.”

  He eyed her, one brow raised. “What is it about you that persists in seeing more where there is none?”

  “There is more. That’s why you drown yourself in wine—to numb all the feelings you say you don’t have.”

  Jake’s gaze narrowed and slid back to the trees. “You really need to—”

  “You say life’s a game.” She cut him off. “That it’s simply a series of wins and losses, but I don’t believe you. Not for a second.”

  “That is your burden. Not mine.”

  “Fair,” she clipped. “I imagine it’s difficult to carry one more burden when you’re already carrying the loss of tens of thousands.”

  Jake’s arm flinched, his jaw flexed, and his gaze snapped right back to her, where it burned. Raquel didn’t know what had prompted her to poke and prod at the open wounds Jake fought so desperately to hide—open wounds he refused to admit were even there—but she was angry and tired, and she was so tired of playing his little games.

  Especially when it came to her heart.

  “Careful, my bride,” Jake warned, that kith wildness in his eyes. “You speak of things you do not know.”

  “Then tell me.”

  His expression shifted—softened, almost, as his gaze drifted to her lips, and then he said, “Has anyone ever mentioned that you are beautiful when you’re angry?”

  “This isn’t a game, Jake!”

  He smiled viciously and leaned in close. His breath brushed her cheek, and his arm tightened possessively around her waist. “Isn’t it?”

  “I do not play games with hearts,” Raquel said through her teeth. “And I will not let you play games with mine.”

  He looked at her as she looked at him, that invisible war between them. That clash of intent.

  Jake frowned. “Pity,” he said at last, and then he looked ahead, loosened his grip, and leaned away from her.

  And Raquel felt a hot spark of anger. “That’s it, then? I really am just a game for you? You’re really that callous and unfeeling?”

  “No heart, remember?” he said, tone dry. “In fact, you’re the one who accused me of it.”

  “Well, I’ve changed my mind.”

  Jake laughed.

  Raquel didn’t appreciate it, and it only made her more persistent. “I know you have a heart.”

  “Do you, now? How convenient…”

  It was an overwhelming surge of anger and defensiveness that prompted her to say, “I saw your heart. In my dreams.”

  As soon as the words left her lips, Raquel couldn’t believe she’d admitted it. The only ones who knew about her dreams were Lee and her father. She’d been too afraid to tell anyone else, and they certainly hadn’t wanted the elders to know. No telling how they might have used her. But now that she’d said the words, Raquel suddenly found herself wanting to tell Jake. To see if her dreams would strike a chord within him and unearth the Jake that Dream Raquel wanted so badly to be real.

  “You dreamed about me, my bride?” Jake drawled.

  “I dreamed of the stag,” she continued slowly. “Exactly as it was, but Banon was not there. It was just you.”

  Jake snorted. “And I suppose next you’ll tell me how you saw me riding with you through this forest—”

  “I saw your brother, too. I saw him cut a switch and whip you with it—he was so much bigger than you when you were little—and then I saw you run into the woods, tending to all the animals that he abused for sport…”

  Jake had drawn Vizzi to an abrupt halt.

  “Who told you this?” His voice was low and dangerous. He was not playing around anymore.

  “No one told me anything. As I said: they were dreams.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  She looked back at him. Their gazes collided like crossed blades. “I am not lying, Highness, and I don’t play games. It is the truth.”

  He studied her, his expression inscrutable. “Do you often dream?”

  “More often than I would like.”

  He searched her as if he could find the lie hidden somewhere in her expression. “Is it always of the things that have transpired?”

  “Not always,” she answered. “Sometimes it is the future I see.”

  His gaze penetrated. “Have you seen my future?”

  Raquel’s lips parted, but she hesitated. Did she tell him what she had seen of them? Of their children?

  Jake grabbed her face between his hands, and Raquel froze, instantly transported back to her dream, but the look in this Jake’s eyes was not loving. It was deadly and furious and serious, and maybe even a little afraid. “What have you seen?”

  Raquel swallowed, caught between his large hands. Caught between dream and reality. “I…don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “I mean that what I’ve seen doesn’t make any sense.”

  Jake’s gaze bored into hers as if he might stare the truth out. “Explain.”

  “I saw…us.”

  His brow furrowed, his grip softened, and he leaned back a fraction, wary. “What were we doing?” His tone had turned cautious.

  Raquel felt her cheeks flame, but she pressed on. “Watching our children. A girl and a boy. The boy looked just like you, but the girl favored me, and we…”

  Jake dropped his hands and turned his face away. “Utterly preposterous.”

  The words hurt. Raquel wasn’t expecting them to. “You asked. I’m just telling you what I saw.”

  Jake sat still and quiet. He still hadn’t urged Vizzi to walk, and Vizzi snorted with restlessness. “Who else knows about this…unique little gift of yours?”

  “My father and my brother, Lee.”

  “Yes, I imagine they wouldn’t want that groveling little weasel Hamarr knowing anything about your little gift, would they?” Jake murmured to himself, and then—to her surprise—he dismounted.

  His boots landed upon dried leaves with a crunch. “We’re here.”

  Raquel blinked, surprised, and it took her a moment to adjust from their tense conversation to the landscape immediately surrounding them.

  Raquel saw nothing that resembled a private dwelling, not until Jake began walking, and then she slowly made sense of a structure in the mist. Straight lines for walls, and a flat rooftop to close them in. Not much of a dwelling from what she could tell. She jumped down from Vizzi, then followed after Jake, and as she neared the structure, she realized that the mist hadn’t obscured anything at all. It was just a tall and simple box mad
e of old, knotted wood that was slowly being reclaimed by the forest.

  “What is this, a privy?” Raquel asked, more to herself.

  She thought she heard Jake chuckle.

  “No, it’s my mother’s,” he said, then opened the door and ducked through.

  16

  “Fine. Leave me out here with your monsters and bleeding trees,” Raquel mumbled, then walked through the door after Jake and froze.

  She was inside of an atrium of sorts—a mesmerizing arid space that let in light from above, with arched doorways and windows, all open to fresh air. Similar to the outpost, there was no mist in this place. Here was an enchanting garden of living plants—thick vines and palms and ferns—all of them draped in flowers.

  In color.

  So this was where Jake had found the rose.

  Raquel had never seen such vibrant hues, and she immediately thought of Harran’s stories. The one’s she’d grown up with, but even they failed to do this justice. Deep green vines as thick as her arms festooned from the ceiling, all of which were covered in an exotic assortment of flowers so saturated with color they practically dripped with it. More flower petals tumbled across the mosaic floor, pushed by a breeze Raquel had not felt outside, and on that breeze, she smelled the sweetest fragrance. Like honeysuckle and jasmine and fresh rain. Water trickled from a fountain at the center, which was where Raquel’s attention fixed.

  The fountain was composed of three bowls—three tiers—and rising through them at its center were the figures of a man and a woman, both covered in rose petals. His hair fell to his chin, and hers cascaded over her body, covering her nakedness. They stood close, facing one another with their waists touching, and the man held the woman’s face in his hands as he gazed lovingly down upon her, their lips a fraction apart.

  The dream flashed in her mind again. Jake’s hands on her face, the look in his eyes when he said I love you.

  “It was a gift for my mother on her wedding day,” Jake said suddenly, startling her.

  He had stopped beside her, but his attention remained on the fountain.

  “It seems a cruel thing to keep, considering what you said about their marriage,” Raquel said.

  Jake didn’t answer immediately. “I doubt she thought of that at all. She’s always been a preserver of rare artifacts.” Jake turned away to appraise the room, and a mark of sadness furrowed his brow and turned those golden eyes as dark as sap.

  “Your kingdom was like this once,” Raquel said.

  “Yes,” he said, and then he walked on. Purpose lent power to his stride and hardened his gaze, and he stopped behind a desk buried in thick tomes and parchment.

  Raquel reached up and touched one of the little roses blooming off the vine. It was so fragrant, so vivid in color, and its petals were like silk between her fingers. “How did this survive?”

  Jake opened a drawer, closed it. “My mother. She fashioned this place as a sanctuary, a hidden respite, if you will—she was always so fond of nature.”

  His tone was softer when he spoke of his mother, Raquel noticed. Another glimmer of the Jake from her dreams.

  “You inherited that from her,” Raquel said.

  Jake glanced up from the desk and arched a brow at her. “There are no secrets when one dreams as you do.”

  “I fear a lifetime of dreams would not reveal all of yours.”

  His forehead creased, and he turned his attention back to the desk.

  And then Raquel resumed walking, taking in all that Jake’s mother had saved. The variety of color and flowers and potted grasses. “So her magik protected this place from the curse?” Raquel trailed her fingers over the soft fronds of a palm.

  “Yes,” he replied, now turned to a shelf, where he rummaged through vases and jars. “But the curse still seeps inside. It comes to claim all of us eventually.”

  “Claims you how?” Raquel asked.

  Jake picked up a box and absently traced his fingertip over a symbol along the lid. “It is like a disease. We breathe it in, and we rot away from the inside out.”

  “You become Depraved.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, and a sardonic smile curled his lips. “It seems you are right about me, after all. I did have a heart once, but it has rotted.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He laughed, but the sound was dark.

  Raquel took a step toward him. “I’m serious.”

  He stopped laughing and looked straight at her. “So am I.”

  Raquel took his statement as a direct challenge, and she approached the desk, persuaded by forces and feelings she did not quite understand. Perhaps she was simply weary of this game, of this war between them—the war within herself—and she needed to quiet that persistent whisper once and for all.

  Or make it sing.

  Jake’s gaze narrowed, and he stood perfectly, inhumanly still as she rounded the desk. In fact, he didn’t seem to breathe. She stopped before him, close enough that if she stood on her toes and tipped her chin, their lips would touch, but she did not. She simply stood there glaring at him, as if to stare out Dream Jake once and for all.

  “And you’re a liar,” she said.

  His eyes were huge and dark as they stared into hers. “I cannot lie, my bride.”

  “You have lied so well and for so long that you can’t even recognize truth anymore.”

  He frowned, and his gaze moved between her eyes. “It’s your dream, isn’t it? It’s making you persist in seeing things that are not there.”

  Raquel had the strangest suspicion that those words weren’t just for her, but that they were for him too. “Then kiss me,” she said in that slip of space between them.

  Jake stilled. Everything about him stilled as he continued to stare at her. Desire suddenly flared in his eyes, and his gaze flickered to her lips. “I thought you would not bargain for kisses.” His words were a feather upon her lips.

  “This is no bargain, my prince.” She tipped her face closer, and his eyes devoured her. “Kiss me, and tell me you feel nothing. Hold my face in your hands, look into my eyes, and tell me that you could never love—”

  Jake crushed his mouth to hers, stopping her words.

  Raquel was shocked at first, but then Jake moved his now-free hand to her chin and cupped it as he kissed her back against the desk.

  And Raquel felt her heart melting.

  If she’d been enchanted by his kiss in her dream, it was nothing compared to the real thing. Nothing compared to the real hunger in his lips, the way they took and gave and clung, and her dreams did not come close to capturing the soft warmth of his tongue as it pushed into her mouth, searching and coaxing. Drawing her out, drawing her to him. His breath had tasted sweet in her dream, and it tasted sweet now, but there was a fever in it that her dream could never bring—a heat that spread a very real fire through her belly and tingled down her legs, and her body arched into his on its own accord, and Jake moaned against her mouth.

  “Tell me I mean nothing to you,” she said against his lips. “That this is just a game.”

  Jake tried to kiss her again, but she tilted her head back further and looked into his dark and ravenous eyes.

  “Tell me,” she persisted.

  A half groan, half growl sounded deep in his throat, and in answer, he let go of her wrists, slid his arm around her waist, and pulled her tight against his own body as his lips claimed hers again.

  This time, Raquel couldn’t bring herself to interrupt him, and for a split second, her senses flickered between present and dream. Between the real and current now and those moments she had seen in her sleep, with the two of them before the fire. They were completely separate moments, yet they were the same, simultaneously then and now, both planes playing out together, but apart. Amplified, almost, because of it.

  And now that Raquel’s hands were free, she let them search. She combed through his dark and gloriously thick hair that was even silkier than she’d imagined, and then she slid her palms d
own his back, feeling the muscles tense and shift as he held her, kissed her. He grabbed her waist, lifted and set her firmly upon the desk, then pushed himself closer, into the fabric of her skirts so that he was standing between her legs, and he kissed her deeply.

  Raquel knew that she was falling down a well she could never climb out of if she didn’t stop this now.

  Especially as his hands squeezed down her legs and slipped beneath her skirts, lifting them higher.

  And higher.

  Raquel grabbed his hands and held them firmly, stopping him, her heart near exploding in her chest. “Tell me you feel nothing, my prince,” she demanded.

  Jake dragged his lips from her neck and gazed up at her. His pupils were huge, his breath quick, but he did not speak.

  “You say you cannot lie, so tell me that I am just a game for you.” She squeezed his hands and brought them to her breast. “That this is nothing but a temporary win amidst a long game of losses. Tell me we have no future, that there is no family. That this is nothing more than a simple diversion to pass your time.”

  Jake didn’t move, didn’t seem to breathe. His lips parted, and then someone started clapping.

  Raquel and Jake both turned their heads to the sound, where a bear of a man stood just inside the doorway, surrounded by dozens of armed Forest kith. It was Prince Edom—the real Prince Edom—and though she had never laid eyes on him, she knew it was him because he looked exactly how Jake had appeared while wearing that glamoured cape. In that look—in that one prolonged glance—she knew that even if Jake were wearing the glamoured coat and standing right beside his brother, she would know them apart. If she had thought Jake callous and unfeeling, it paled in comparison to the cold emptiness in Edom’s black gaze. He truly was a brute, a wild animal in human form, driven by cold purpose and an insatiable hunger for power.

  It was little wonder Jake and his mother had lost faith in Edom’s ability to break the curse.

  This was the man from her dreams who had pushed Jake away from the palace. The one who had tortured animals for sport and left them to die.

  The one she needed to kill.

  And he was smiling cruelly. “Well, well, well, I do believe you’ve rendered my traitorous little brother speechless.”