Dark Warrior (Warrior 2)

“You will be happy.”

She slowly shook her head, stood, and waved her hands in front of her face. Happiness would forever elude her. Michael reached for her and lightning sparked in the black sky. She jumped away from him, shaking her head and stretching out her hands to keep him at a distance. She hurried off into the castle.

He ached to rush after her but it would do neither of them any good. He was there to protect her and to see to her safety. He would only place her in more danger if he surrendered to his desires.

Michael looked for Mary. He found her by the sleeping pallet unpinning her hair with trembling hands. He had not thought he would care for anyone ever again in his life. He had thought himself cut off from all emotions, and he had intended for it to forever remain so.

How, then, did this woman who could speak not a word penetrate his protective shield? How had she been able to touch his heart? Why was it that the simple thought of never seeing her again tore at his heart until he thought it had been ripped in two?

He watched from a distance as Mary lowered herself onto the pallet. He would soon join her there and keep her warm, just as he had done from the time that he rescued her. They had not slept apart since, and he favored snuggling with her at night, cuddling as lovers would. She felt so good wrapped within his embrace, warm and soft.

When she slept, it was deeply, from exhaustion. And she lightly snored. He enjoyed the sound, enjoyed feeling the beat of her heart against him, found joy in both her gentleness and strength.

She cannot be yours.

His own strong voice warned and he nodded, knowing there was no choice in this matter.

The first drop of rain fell and rolled off his shroud. How he wished to feel the rain against his skin and how he wish to feel Mary’s warmth next to his.

Drop after raindrop pelted his shroud until he finally went directly to Mary. The pallet was thick and deep with brush and tree limbs, a blanket against the rain. He looked down to see her sleeping, curled on her side, her arms pressed firmly to her chest and her legs tucked up near to the end of her elbows.

Michael lay down behind her and pressed himself up against her to let her know of his presence if she should need him. She made no move to respond and Michael made no move away from her.

They lay there quietly, with not a sound or movement except those of the other occupants of the castle, the small forest animals and the birds. Finally when night settled heavy over the land, Mary turned and Michael wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly to him.

And he wondered how he would ever let her go.Chapter 10Mary woke the next morning to the smell of roasting fish with wild onions and though the delicious scent tempted, she had little appetite. Her foolishness disturbed her. She was behaving like a young lass in love when she barely knew Michael. How ridiculous of her, or how needy?

Was it love? Or was it the need to be protected? She remembered her father telling her that love would come to her when she least expected it. It would find her, she would not be able to hide from it and she should not worry over it. But then he had been advising a young girl of ten who thought herself wildly in love with a local village boy.

She had not thought herself in love since, her life having been torn apart shortly afterward. With little experience to call on, she was not certain what to make of her feelings.

Perhaps she would just wait on love.

She brushed her hair and tied it in a ribbon before joining Michael at the table.

“I fished early and thought to surprise you with a good meal,” he said.

Was he attempting to appease her for last night?

She nodded and picked sparingly at the fish. She simply had no appetite for food and could not force herself to eat no matter how delicious it tasted.

Michael said not another word until he was finished eating. “I need to make my rounds again to see that the surrounding area has remained free of intruders. It will take me most of the day.”

She nodded and patted her chest, letting him know she would do fine that there was no need for concern, though she would have much preferred to spend time with him than away from him.

With a hint of annoyance he said, “You are brave to a fault.”

Mary stared at him, confused by his statement.

He offered her no explanation, was only adamant in his demand that she remain close by the castle ruins.