Savage Illusions

He knew that he co­uld ne­ver ta­ke her to his vil­la­ge­not as long as Spot­ted Eag­le was ali­ve! Spot­ted Eag­le wo­uld ta­ke her away from him and con­demn Two Rid­ges in the eyes of the­ir pe­op­le!

There was only one so­lu­ti­on.

Two Rid­ges wo­uld ha­ve to am­bush Spot­ted Eag­le and kill him, so that Two Rid­ges wo­uld not ha­ve to li­ve the li­fe of a ba­nis­hed Blac­k­fo­ot. He wan­ted to ta­ke his cop­per prin­cess to his pe­op­le and show her off to them. They wo­uld see why she wo­uld ca­use him ne­ver to ta­ke anot­her wo­man to his bed.

She was the most be­a­uti­ful of all the wo­men he had ever known! He ac­hed to to­uch her cop­per skin. He ac­hed to bury his no­se in the depths of her mid­nig­ht-black ha­ir, to smell its frag­ran­ce. His mo­uth wan­ted to know the swe­et­ness of her lips.

But he knew that he wo­uld first ha­ve to ga­in her trust to ha­ve the­se ple­asu­res!

Jolena was stun­ned numb with the news that she and Two Rid­ges we­re the only two of the ex­pe­di­ti­on to co­me out of this tra­gedy ali­ve.

She clo­sed her eyes and sob­bed out Kirk's na­me, then her be­lo­ved Spot­ted Eag­le's.

She crum­p­led down on­to the blan­kets and cur­led in­to a ball, still crying, her eyes clo­sed, her he­art shred­ding in­to a mil­li­on pi­eces of des­pa­ir. When a warm hand to­uc­hed her fa­ce, she tho­ught it was Spot­ted Eag­le's, so much did she want it to be so. She le­aned in­to the palm of the hand, sob­bing softly.

When she ope­ned her eyes, she lur­c­hed back wildly away from Two Rid­ges, jol­ted back to her sen­ses.

"Allow me to com­fort you," Two Rid­ges sa­id, pla­cing a hand to her wrist, at­tem­p­ting to draw her in­to a sit­ting po­si­ti­on next to him. "For a mo­ment you al­lo­wed it. Ok-yi, co­me. Kyi. Let me hold you. Cry un­til all of yo­ur sad­ness is was­hed from in­si­de you."

"No," Jole­na sa­id, cho­king back anot­her sob. "I'm fi­ne. I don't ne­ed an­yo­ne. I'm go­ing to be fi­ne."

"You ne­ed not suf­fer thro­ugh this alo­ne," Two Rid­ges sa­id, dra­wing her clo­ser to him as he still held tightly to her wrist. "I was Spot­ted Eag­le's best fri­end. He wo­uld want you to se­ek com­fort in my arms."

"Please le­ave me be," Jole­na sa­id, yan­king her wrist free. "I ne­ed no one. No one, do you he­ar?"

His eyes nar­ro­wing, Two Rid­ges mo­ved away from her and re­su­med his pla­ce be­fo­re the dying em­bers on the op­po­si­te si­de of the fi­re from Jole­na. His eyes ne­ver left her as he pla­ced mo­re wo­od on the co­als of the fi­re, and the fla­mes so­on ate away at the dry tim­ber.

Jolena sta­red in­to the fla­mes, trem­b­ling from the col­d­ness she felt in­si­de over her los­ses.

Her brot­her! Her won­der­ful Spot­ted Eag­le! All of the ot­hers of the ex­pe­di­ti­on of whom she had be­co­me so fo­und!

And her be­lo­ved jo­ur­nals and her pre­ci­o­us but­terfly col­lec­ti­on!

"Everything is lost to me," she whis­pe­red, te­ars aga­in splas­hing from her eyes. "Ever­y­t­hing."

Returning to her soft pal­let of blan­kets, she stret­c­hed out on­to them, me­ti­cu­lo­usly co­ve­ring her­self with anot­her one. When she clo­sed her eyes, she fo­und that the­re was too much the­re in her mind's eye that con­ti­nu­ed tro­ub­ling her… the dam­nab­le Nympha­lid but­terfly that was known to por­tend de­ath! And the dam­nab­le dre­am in which Spot­ted Eag­le had di­ed!

Although Spot­ted Eag­le had not di­ed from an ar­row's wo­und, he was de­ad just the sa­me.

She now wis­hed that she had lis­te­ned to Kirk and had tur­ned back to­ward Fort Chan­ce, le­aving the but­terfly to te­ase and ca­use de­ath to so­me­one el­se.

"Oh, why didn't I lis­ten to Kirk?" she cri­ed softly, pum­me­ling her fists in­to the blan­kets. "Why? Why?"

She had be­en so ca­ught up in her gri­ef that Jole­na had not he­ard Two Rid­ges co­ming to­ward her aga­in, had not be­en awa­re of him lying qu­i­etly down on­to the blan­ket be­si­de her…

Only when he sco­oted be­ne­ath her blan­ket and pla­ced his body be­hind hers was she awa­re that he was the­re, his bre­ath now hot on the na­pe of her neck as his fin­gers lif­ted her ha­ir so that he co­uld kiss her swe­et, soft flesh.

Jolena's eyes ope­ned wildly and her he­art skip­ped a be­at when she felt the most iden­ti­fi­ab­le lar­ge­ness of his man­ho­od thro­ugh the ma­te­ri­al of his bre­ec­hes and her skirt as he be­gan gyra­ting him­self aga­inst her from be­hind.

She was so shoc­ked by his ac­ti­ons that she was mo­men­ta­rily ren­de­red spe­ec­h­less and se­emingly hel­p­less. She lay the­re, scar­cely bre­at­hing, as one of his hands mo­ved aro­und and cup­ped one of her bre­asts thro­ugh the cot­ton fab­ric of her blo­use.

In a flash, the blan­ket was thrown asi­de and Two Rid­ges was atop her, his mo­uth se­eking her lips, his hands slip­ping qu­ickly up the in­si­de of her skirt.

''I will ma­ke you for­get ever­y­t­hing but the ple­asu­re that you will re­ce­ive from my lo­ve­ma­king," Two Rid­ges whis­pe­red hus­kily aga­inst her che­ek, his lips qu­ickly cla­iming hers in a fren­zi­ed kiss.

With one sho­ve, she pus­hed Two Rid­ges away from her.

She scram­b­led to her fe­et, and as he jum­ped to his fe­et and to­we­red over her, she star­ted to run. He grab­bed her by the wa­ist and spun her aro­und so that she was held im­mo­bi­le aga­inst his body as he lo­we­red her aga­in to the blan­kets.