Desolate, Book I of the Immortal Rose Trilogy (27 page)

He sinks back onto
his heels and scrunches up his nose. I laugh at his silly expression.
“Something wrong?”

“Not really…”
He sighs and then crosses his legs before him. “I wonder if I
might express an observation without upsetting you.”

“That
depends.”

“On what?”
He tilts his head to the side and I notice the beautiful golden
highlights in his hair. The nearness of the fire has begun to dry the
strands, making them look soft to the touch.

“On whether
you think I need to hear it.”

Fane inhales and
exhales slowly, obviously taking the time to consider this carefully.
“I believe it is something that should be said, yes.”

“Then by all
means, proceed.” I crisscross my arms around my legs and draw
them in closer to my chest, as if this position can save me from
whatever he might say.

He clears his throat
and fiddles with the golden buttons that line his fine coat. I have
never seen Fane in such fancy dress. The coat fits his broad frame
with fine elegance. His trousers are tight enough for me to see the
muscle that lines his thighs and calves. I wonder why he is all
gussied up.

“I saw
something in you last night and I was not the only one to notice.”

“What was it?”
I hold my breath, sure that whatever revelation he has will no doubt
be dreadful.

“Rage.”

I stare at him for a
moment. “Rage?”

He nods. “You
were the topic of many whispers last night. I believe you have made
quite an impression on our visitors.”

I scoff and wave my
hand in the air. “I do not care what they think.”

Fane leans in. “You
should. They are the ones who will choose whom you fight in the
forest in a few weeks.”

I feel the blood
drain from my face as the tremors return. He watches me as I clasp my
hands tightly against my knees and fight to still the rapid beating
of my heart.

“You are
afraid, and so you should be, yet that fear is what will keep you
alive.” Fane pushes up from the floor, rising to his full
height as he offers me his hand.

“Why do you
feel burdened with my care?”

He withdraws his
unaccepted hand to his side. His gaze grows guarded and he turns
away. “I have my reasons.”

I rise slowly to my
feet. To this point, I have yet to press him about his past, knowing
there was little trust earned on either of our parts, yet I suddenly
feel emboldened to ask. Perhaps it is the way he looked at me last
night, with eyes filled with sorrow, or the way his thumb gently
traced circles across the back of my hand only a moment ago.
Something has changed between us, though I am unsure if there are
words to describe how. “Please tell me.”

Fane’s
shoulders rise and fall with the steady rhythm of each breath. His
voice is deeper than normal when he finally speaks. “I had a
family… before. I came from more humble beginnings than you
did. My father was a stonemason by trade. He spent his life building
fine homes for people who cheated the poor so they could build their
castles. My father was an honorable man, the hardest working person I
knew. My mother was a kind, plump woman whose laughter could brighten
any dreary day.”

I can see a hint of
smile stretch across his face as he turns to begin pacing. His hands
clench and unclench at his sides. “Everyone loved her cooking.
She made the best pies in all the village. Her bread was sinful, most
would claim.”

He turns and glances
toward me, though instantly lowers his gaze again. “I had three
sisters and a young brother. To be honest, I cannot really remember
the boy’s name. He was hardly more than a babe when I was
turned. I hardly knew him as I spent my days working in the mill. I
was a young man with dreams larger than this castle and no money to
my name. I turned my back on my father’s trade and went to live
with Lungun, the carpenter. He was a harsh man with fists of iron and
a quick temper, though I did well in his home.”

Fane turns back once
more and I watch the emotions playing across his face. “I had a
young wife named Cosmina. She had hair like the night and eyes as
beautiful as the pond that lay just beyond the edge of town. I loved
her laugh and the way she always had a kind word to say, even for the
foulest of men, yet she was too trusting.”

The planes of his
face harden as he finally turns to face me. “She was with child
when a man came to our doorstep. There were no strangers to Cosmina,
so it was only natural to invite him in to warm beside the fire. I
was kept late that night. A sizeable shipment of wood was due to
depart for Oradea on the morn. I knew it would never make it there.
The roads along the border were too dangerous, yet Lungun was
determined so I obeyed.”

Fane sinks heavily
onto the edge of my bed and buries his head in his hands. “I
heard her screams all the way from the mill. By the time I arrived—”
His voice cuts off. His shoulders shake as he fights against the
tears that gather in his eyes.

I rush forward and
sink down at his feet. “There was nothing you could do.”

“This I know.”
He growls as he wipes at his eyes. “There was little left of my
beloved when I arrived. She had been torn apart, as if by rabid
wolves. I still remember seeing my unborn child’s body tossed
beside the fire, the cord wrapped several times around its neck. He
was nearly full size. I held him in my arms all that long night,
vowing that I would avenge their deaths.”

When he looks up at
me, I can see rage burning deep within his darkened eyes. “I
was to have a son, an heir to carry on the Dalca name.”

I close my eyes and
press my cheek into his palm. His fingers quiver at my touch, though
he does not draw away. I can feel the strength of this broken man in
the palm of his hand. He had said we were kindred spirits. Now I know
he is right.

“I hardly
moved all that night and through the next day. The sun came and went.
When the knock sounded at my door, I assumed it was Lungun arriving
to scold me for missing work. I was wrong.”

I release my hold on
his hand and he splays them out before him, wide enough to hold the
boy that he lost so long ago. “They came for me that night. I
remember stumbling out into the cold, my feet bare and no cloak to
warm me. The torchlight was brilliant, blinding me as they ushered me
toward town. When I arrived, I saw them for the first time, clustered
together in their finery. The women teetered as I passed, reaching
out to stroke my hair and arms. I was shoved into line with my
townspeople, shivering from the cold and the unknown.”

He closes his hands
into fists. His arms shake and blood seeps from between his fingers,
yet still he does not release his grip. “I was chosen to fight.
I had nothing to live for, no reason to pick up a sword. Two children
were chosen alongside me. A boy of six summers and a girl of ten.
They lived down the lane from me. I knew them by name, shared a sweet
with them from time to time on my way home. Two women were chosen and
two men. I knew all of them well. They were kin to me.”

I hold my breath as
Fane runs his hands through his hair, unconcerned with the blood that
trails through his fine strands. He rubs his hands down over his
face, his gaze unfocused as he looks beyond me. “The two men
took down the women first. I did not act until they went after the
children. The girl escaped my grasp, fearful that I was going to harm
her. I could not save her, yet the boy… he was mine to
protect.”

He clears his throat
and blows out a shaky breath. He turns his hollow gaze upon me and I
am rocked by the depths of his pain. “I killed those men with
my bare hands. No sword. No axe. I choked the life from them,
imagining they were the men who took away my Cosmina. They were gone
and only the boy was left. I picked up the sword and handed it to
him. I placed the tip against my chest and commanded him to strike me
down. I do not think he had the strength within him to kill me. His
arms were frail, his clothes swallowing up his tiny frame.”

A discomfort in my
lungs alerts me to the fact that I have unknowingly been holding my
breath. I release it slowly. “What did you do?”

“I said a
silent prayer and looked toward the heavens to await my death, yet my
gaze never reached the sky. A man stood before me, dressed in fine
clothes and draped in jewels far larger than I ever dreamed existed.
None of this seemed remarkable to me, save for one detail. A small
wooden ring sat upon his finger. To most it would seem insignificant,
yet I recognized it immediately. I hand carved that ring when I asked
for Cosmina’s hand. I remember filling with rage as I stared
into the knowing eyes of my wife’s murderer.”

I reach out and
place a hand upon his arm. “What did you do?”

Fane pulls away and
stands with his back to me. “What I must to avenge my family.”

I suck in a breath
and feel the ache of the lost child profoundly in my chest. “That
is why you saved the little girl. You were making amends?”

“No.” He
shakes his head. I watch as his hair shifts along his back. “There
are no amends for the evil I performed that day.”

I rise to my feet
and step up behind him. I hesitate before setting my hand upon his
arm and realize that he is shaking. My heart breaks for this man who
feels that to show any weakness would be to place a target upon his
back. He survives as he must, doing what he must, yet I sense great
turmoil within him that has yet to be dealt with.

“I cannot
begin to understand the pain of your loss. My sister was taken from
me and though this pain is severe, I cannot imagine that it compares
to the loss of a wife and child. No man should be forced to endure
that.”

The muscles in his
arms clench as he nods. “I made a vow to myself that one day I
would take away the one thing Vladimir holds most dear.” He
turns to face me, his chest looming before me as I raise my gaze to
look up at him. Tears dampen his lashes, though none fall. “I
do not pretend to understand the inner workings of Vladimir’s
mind, yet one thing is very clear… He has feelings for you.”

My breath hitches
ever so slightly at the intensity of his gaze. “Do you plan to
steal me away from him?”

Fane lifts a hand
and gently brushes stray bits of hair from my eyes. His touch is
gentle, hesitant. “Perhaps someday.”

I lower my gaze as
heat floods into my cheeks. I can feel it spreading from within the
collar of my dress, warming my neck. “Have I spoken out of
turn?” he questions.

“Yes,” I
whisper, staring at my feet. I lock my forefingers together before my
dress and rock back onto my heels. “And yet no.”

He places a finger
beneath my chin, lifting it so I can meet his gaze. The hollowness
has been replaced by an emotion I had not thought to see again: hope.
“Someday I believe you will be Vladimir’s undoing. If you
are willing, I would like to assist you in this endeavor.”

His words stir
something deep within me, a longing for this to come true. I wish it
for his sake and my own. “Are you ready to begin your training,
Roseline Dragomir?”

I blink at the use
of my mortal name. My name. Not Vladimir’s. A subtle reminder
that the girl I thought I left behind is still a part of me. A girl
whose need for vengeance must not be ignored.

Vladimir stripped
everything from us. I know Fane is correct. I am the only one who can
ever truly harm my husband.

“You must be
sure of your path.” He urges. His hands fall upon my forearms,
his grip demanding though far from painful. Fane is giving me a
choice: fight back or give up.

“I do not wish
to die,” I reply with certainty, and for the first time I
realize the truth behind my words. Despite the horrors that life has
dealt me, I have found a flicker of life within me. A desire to hope
again. To live, not hide in fear.

“You will need
to fight for the right to live. I can only show you the path. You
must choose to walk it.” His grip tightens as I feel the
emotion riding behind his words. “Are you willing?”

Pressing back my
shoulders, I take a step forward and nod. “I am willing on one
condition.”

He blinks in
confusion. “What is your request?”

A slow smile spreads
along my lips. “Ensure that Lucien is one of the hunters. I
have a score to settle with him.”

I open the door to
my room the following day before Fane has a chance to knock. His
expression of surprise swiftly melds into admiration. “You were
listening. Good. I wondered if you would be able to hear my
approach.”

“I heard you
the moment you entered through the courtyard on your horse. It has
one shoe that is loose. You really should see to that.”

“I shall.”
Fane’s smile deepens, and I blush beneath his obvious approval.
“Care to join me for a walk?”

He steps forward to
offer me his arm, waiting to see if I will extend him the trust he
requires. “The sun is shining today and I thought we might
begin our lessons in the meadow.”

My breath catches at
the thought of being beyond the inner castle walls. How I have longed
to explore the forests. “Truly? I am permitted to leave?”

Fane laughs and dips
his head. “Vladimir requires that you are properly trained and
to do so we will need space. He will allow you leisure to leave the
castle temporarily.”

A thought rises up
that strangles any joy I previously felt at the thought of escaping
this stone prison. “Will my husband be there to watch my
progress?”

“No.”
Fane lays his hand atop mine as I accept his arm and he leads me out
into the hall. I step with hardly a sound, evidence that my time
spent alone in my room has not been in vain. I have learned a few
things about being an immortal. I am fast, agile, and cunning when I
put my mind to it. In mere seconds, I could race to the steps and
leap down the grand staircase, though I restrain myself. “Vladimir
has gone to welcome some new guests. I believe they have traveled
here from Clus.”