Chapter 2

Three days had past, and the snow blanketed the ground covering the landscape and gardens below. Tristan stood by the window, staring coolly at the peaceful scene outside. It was February and the sun’s rays glistened upon the white fluffy crystallized water with a slight hint of blue-green sparkles that twinkled on the serene landscape below. It was a beautiful sight to gaze upon and it would be the last he would see until the end of fall when the November snow fell.

Tristan glanced over to the woman that had been his bedmate for the last three days. She still lay there peacefully in a slumber. Each night he held her close and filled her with his life force to heal the wound she had sustained on Earth, and in the process, he had unintentionally created a strong link with her mind. He felt her emotions, as if they were his own. He had never experienced such an overwhelming connection with anyone in his entire life, and he as of yet he hadn’t even had a complete conversation with her.

She fell in and out of consciousness the first twenty-four hours, and then without warning, she fell into a deep sleep and hadn’t opened her eyes. A golden light took hold of her mind and it seemed to be healing her. It was strange how it just appeared that way, and he at first tried to push it out of her mind for fear it was attacking her, but in the end, he was the one that was pushed away. No matter what he did the golden light remained. As long as he held her and filled her with healing energy, the gold light allowed him to be near her.

Perhaps a guardian angel or a servant of the Maker and the Great Mother was protecting her? But if they were, why hadn’t they kept her safe on Earth instead of leaving her vulnerable at such a young age to defend herself? Why wait till she was in a safe place before it came to her? It didn’t make sense to him. She was healing and that was what was important.

Well, at least her nightmares had stopped. Many times, she filled his mind with images of snakes slithering and coiling around her little legs. She couldn’t have been more than two years old and Draken each time removed the snake and sliced it open while a short woman with brown-black hair picked Pagan up and held her tightly. What kind of world had Draken been banished to? He had no idea that Earth was a hostile place, at least the area Draken lived was, and judging by the actions of the people around her, the men of Earth were just as cruel and acted like savages toward each other. One man in particular haunted her dreams.

At that thought, his image popped into Tristan’s mind. The man had a gleam of evil in his dark brown eyes, and he hunted Pagan like she was a wild animal. She was frightened of him but stood her ground whenever she faced his men and she defended herself with powerful thrusts of energy that flew from her hands like she was a warrior. She managed to elude him and spent most of her teenage life running and hiding with two other men, who she cared for deeply. Their images elicited a deep affection and a hollow sadness at the same time. Every image she had unintentionally placed in his mind was vivid as if she was reliving each moment and he felt her emotions as if they were his own. She stirred and slowly opened her eyes.

“Well, good morning, princess. Did you sleep well?”

Pagan sat up with a start and winced at the pain tugging in her stomach. She placed her hand on the wound to try to ease the sharpness and found she was wearing a soft gown that hung to her feet. Where had her clothes gone and why such a long gown? She looked around the room and then to the man standing by the window. She recognized his voice as the one she heard in her dreams, urging her to stay with him and not die.

She took in a deep breath. Yes, she was alive. But was she in Aradia? She had to be. The furnishings were definitely not particular to what graced her small Mexican hut, and she doubted Gomez owned such fine furniture either. If he had her, she most likely would be a prisoner, not lying in a massive soft bed.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“You, princess, are in my bed,” came his reply.

“Bed? No, I mean what country or world is this?”

“Aradia.”

The words flowed over her ears as gracefully as a swan on a lake. She had made it. She managed to escape Gomez one more time and hopefully for the last time. She rubbed her forehead to try to clear the slight dizziness that filled her mind. Something was missing, rather someone.

“Where is Father Juan?” she asked.

“Wasn’t he a bit young to be your father?”

She glared at him. “He’s not my father; he’s a man of the cloth, a priest. Where is he?”

Concern creased his brow, as he realized her words. That man was a religious man and thought it his duty to bring her here, but why wasn’t he in any of her dreams? That man did bring her across the veil. He must have been a part of her life in some way for him to risk his life to bring her here. He brought her to safety before he died. Tristan crossed over to her and sat next to her on the bed. She instinctively pulled her knees up to cover her breasts that hung free under the gown, but she didn’t shrink from his nearness. He was glad of that, he could see she was weary to trust him, but their connection had placed a familiarity of his presence upon her, and he knew she wasn’t ready to acknowledge it yet.

“I’m sorry, Pagan. He is dead.”

“Dead!”

A shrill left her throat, as she bent over crying as she realized another death had happened because of her. She felt cursed. Everyone who came in contact with her was doomed to die. The man seated next to her placed his arm around her and she instinctively curled up against him, allowing her tears to soak his soft blue shirt. He was willing to hold her and console her and she had no idea who he was, but at the moment she needed someone. Everyone she cared for were either on the run or dead. And this familiar stranger was here in Aradia, not on Earth.

Pagan sensed a wave of compassion flow over her body, and it somehow comforted her. It was a familiar feeling, one she seemed to remember experiencing in her dreams. But where was it coming from, or perhaps the better question, from whom was it coming?

He gently caressed the top of her head, letting his strong hand stroke her hair with a tenderness she desperately needed. He said not a word but let her vent out her sorrow.

There was a knock at the massive door on the other side of the room. It opened and Draken stood in the doorframe. He made eye contact with her for a moment. And then within three large strides he was standing before her with a long overdue look of concern on his face.

“Pagan, please, calm yourself. That man risked his life to bring you here. Why? What has happened? Who shot you?” Draken asked impatiently.

Pagan pulled out of her consoler’s embrace and crawled to the headboard, grasping a pillow up to her chest. She hadn’t seen Draken in fifteen years, and he was already demanding she give him the answers to his questions before he even asked how she was fairing?

“Nice to see you, too, Daddy,” she said sarcastically through her tears.

Draken gave a low curse, “Pagan, please, I know you are angry with me, but we must get past that. I need to know what happened over there.”

“Sergio Gomez is what happened. A warlord from Guatemala who is convinced I am his soul mate, and he wants me to rejoin with him. He wants my power for his own,” Sadness took hold and she lost control of her composure. “He murdered Abuelo and Marco because he couldn’t find me.” Pagan hid her face in the pillow she clutched tightly in her hands.

“Pagan, look at me.” Draken wrenched the pillow out of her hands.

“Easy there, Draken. Can’t you see she’s been through a lot?” The dark-haired younger man came to her defense.

Draken ignored the younger man. “Where is Esmeralda?”

“She went to Mexico City to petition the bishop for help. She wanted him to take me with him to Rome and place me in a convent to keep me out of Gomez’s hands. Me a nun, I think not. I told her not to, but she wouldn’t listen. You know how stubborn she can be.”

“I am sorry I ever left you there. I thought I was keeping you safe. The Maker banished you to Earth and you weren’t allowed back here. I wanted to defy Him, but if I did, He threatened to take your soul. You needed to stay there,” he said.

“Safe? Since when is leaving a five year old child in the jungles of Mexico a safe thing to do? You should’ve let Him take my soul! Then no one else would have been hurt!”

“Pagan, you don’t understand. You are my daughter, and it was and still is my duty to see to your safety. I had to return. All the heirs to the ruling chair were either dead or too young to rule. There are a hundred thousand people who live here, and they needed a ruler. I was the only one left in the family capable of ruling. I had to return, and I left you in the care of Esmeralda, Manuel, and Marco. You were in good hands.”

“They were good people and now two of them are dead! Dead because of me and my strange gifts, not to mention my eyes! I’ll never forgive you for leaving me! Just because a piece of paper says you are my legal parent doesn’t mean you are my father!”

“Then why are you here?” he asked.

“Because I have no other place to go. Gomez will hunt me for the rest of my life. I have no other place to go,” she repeated as she sobbed her sorrow and grief.

Draken reached for her hand, and she snatched it away. She didn’t want sympathy from him. He had no right to try to be a caring father now when he abandoned her long ago. All she wanted was a safe place to be, that’s all. She didn’t want anything from him.

“When you are well, we will move you to your grandparents’ house. It is your proper place since I doubt you will agree to stay with me. I don’t want to cause you more distress.”

Draken turned to leave and headed for the door. He took one last look back at her and she glared at him with teary eyes. He sighed and left the room.

“You were kind of hard on him, weren’t you?” The man seated next to her said.

She snapped her head in the direction of the voice that was familiar to her, but yet she didn’t know who he was. Who the devil are you and why are you staring at me like that?

I’m not a devil and I am the one who saved your life. And I’m staring at you because you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.

She paused a moment before speaking. “How did you do that? Are you a mind reader, because if you are, it is very rude to read other people’s thoughts without their permission,” she snapped back at him.

“Yes, I have the ability to read minds, as every Aradian does, and you seemed to have inherited the gift from your mother, and I wouldn’t have heard you if you hadn’t directed your thoughts to me,” he replied.

“Leave my mother out of this and I did no such thing!” She snapped back at his words.

“Yes, you did, and I’ll gladly keep your mother out of this conversation if you agree to stop yelling at me. Now, aren’t you the one being rude for not thanking me for saving your life. You actually died on me, and I brought you back. A little kindness is in order here, don’t you think?”

She was silent. This man brought her back from the dead and she was only chastising him for giving her a compliment. She had let her emotions toward Draken get the best of her and she was taking her anger out on this man, whoever he was.

“You’re right. Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean to cause you distress by dying,” she said realizing her words didn’t come out the way she intended.

“Is that a thank you?” he asked.

“No, it was not, but this is.” She touched his hand and squeezed it softly.

Tristan was touched by the gesture. He placed his other hand over hers and sent a pleasant thought into her mind. She was truly sorry for her words. He felt the flood of emotion that filled her small frame. She felt comfortable with him at that moment but was afraid to admit it. He wasn’t going to push the issue any further. He knew how she felt and that was all that mattered, for now. She had been through a lot and in truth, she really didn’t know who he was. He couldn’t blame her for holding back.

Betha came running in, squealing like a little girl. “You’re awake, you’re awake.”

“Pagan, I would like you to meet my baby sister, Betha,” he said as he introduced his sister.

Pagan wiped the tears away from her eyes and looked at the girl, who seemed to be the same age as she. She looked between Betha and the man next to her and turned to see an older female and another young man enter the room. All of them had the same long raven hair.

“Does everyone in Aradia have black hair except me?” she asked.

The man sitting next to her handed her a handkerchief and she tried to blow her nose as gracefully as she could, but it didn’t work. She sniffed and apologized for her awkwardness.

“No, my dear, there are others, though black hair seems to be a trait that runs through the 1st Ruling House. Please, let me introduce my family. I am Patrice, you’ve been introduced to my daughter, Betha, and this young man at my side is my son, Brailey, and of course you know Tristan, my eldest.”

Pagan looked at the man next to her. “Tristan, is it?” This was the first time she had heard his name.

“Yes, Tristan. And you are princess,” he said with a slight smile.

“I told you my name is not princess, it’s Pagan.”

“Ah, yes, you did.”

“When did we have this conversation before?” She gave him a sideways glance.

“That very first night I found you.”

“But, I was unconscious.”

“Yes, you were,” he smiled at her. “You need your rest. Tomorrow, you meet your grandparents. So back to bed with you, young lady,” Tristan said as he rose off the bed and pointed to the bed indicating he wanted her to lay back down.

Everyone quietly smiled and left the room except Tristan. He began to undress, and she stopped him with a gesture of her hand.

“What are you doing?”

“Preparing to heal you like I’ve done every night since I brought you here.”

He continued to undress.

“By getting undressed?” she asked in amazement.

He stood in front of her, naked, and she shielded her eyes from the massive sight of a man he was. His stance was relaxed and so was his shaft, but even in that state he still was rather well endowed.

“Yes. All I am going to do is lay with you. You should be used to it by now.”

“Well, difference is I’m awake and aware that you are naked.”

“Stop saying that word like it is malicious.” He placed his hands on his hips.

“Well, isn’t it?”

“No, trust me, Pagan, it isn’t. Look at me.”

She reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his and tried her best to keep her focus there and not any lower.

“I only mean to heal you; it has only been a few days since you were injured, and you need time to heal. You are too weak for any sexual activity now, anyway. As far as I know, you are not even old enough for it.”

“Old enough? What do you mean by that?” she asked, almost insulted by his words.

“I don’t know what the custom is on Earth, but on Aradia a woman must have reached her twentieth year and been through her rite of passage. No man will touch her before then. How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“Have you had your rite of passage?”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“Then I am going to assume you are a virgin and your virtue is safe with me. Now, come lay with me and let me heal you.”

He held out his hand and she slowly took it. “I don’t understand. What does you being naked have to do with healing?” she asked as she lay on her side, and he came up behind her and spooned her. She trusted him even though she couldn’t understand why. Something deep inside knew he meant her no harm, that she was safe with him. At least she was wearing clothes, she thought. She turned her head to face him and said, “Tristan, if you try to take me in my sleep, I’ll gut you like a snake.” She wanted to make it clear to him. It probably wasn’t warranted that she said it, but she just wanted to let him know she was in charge of her senses now and felt the need to express her wishes.

“I’m sure you will,” he retorted. “And as far as my state of undress, the least amount of barriers there are between us helps me to be able to send healing energy through me into you. It was the extent of your injury that required this type of healing. It was and still is the best way to secure your life force and keep you from dying.”

She closed her eyes and thought about his words. He was honest about what and why he was doing this. She was grateful for that. Perhaps it was best to do as he said and trust him. She focused her mind on falling asleep. She was tired and she knew she needed rest in order to heal, but it was hard, considering she felt the heat from his naked body pressed against hers. And then there was the matter of a certain part of his body that was touching her buttocks through her thin cotton gown. She shifted her behind to try to find a position where it wasn’t leaning against her.

“Stop wiggling like that. Are you trying to give me an erection?”

She froze and he pulled her tighter to him, pressing that part of his body she was so desperately trying to avoid even closer than it was before.

“And you really do need to make peace with your adoptive father. He had no choice in his actions and if he had defied the Maker, you my princess, wouldn’t be here with me, and I for one am glad you are here.” Tristan kissed her temple. “Now, sleep and let your body heal. I don’t want you undoing all my healing.”

“You sound just like Esmeralda,” Pagan said.

“Well, she must be a very wise lady.”

“I don’t know about wise, but she does try to take care of others.”

“And let me take care of you. Rest, Pagan.”

“Tristan, thank you.”

“You’re most welcome, princess.”

“I told you my name is not princess.”

Tristan laughed, “Close your eyes and go to sleep, princess.”

***

Zeus stood in the well-manicured gardens of the gods. It wasn’t a place he frequented often, but today was an exception. He crossed his arms over his massive muscular chest and raised his hand to scratch his white beard. Things were going well despite the warlord’s attempt to capture the golden child of the chosen soul mates. He allowed her to cross the veil to Aradia because she was dying and needed to be healed. It also was time for her to meet her chosen mate.

Zeus handpicked this particular Aradian because he was a well skilled warrior that possessed a compassionate heart that he knew she needed in order to finally accept love into her life, and the abilities between the two of them guaranteed the offspring he desired. She no longer was the oracle because of Draken’s actions, but she at least was capable of fighting with their forces as a protectress of the future oracle.

Princess, not exactly the nickname I would have chosen, Tristan, but she is yours, so call her what you will. A graceful feminine hand touched his bicep and Zeus patted the lovely hand with tenderness. Aphrodite, you have your work cut out for you.

She laughed softly. I always enjoy a challenge.

She is more than a challenge; she is essential to our needs. Artemis has made her strong and will continue to do so, that is how she survived all these years in the jungle, but I want her to mate with Tristan and she must be a willing participant. He deserves that. It’s the least I can do since he will not be given a choice of a bride.

Aphrodite glanced down at the couple in the bed below. Look at them. The way he holds her, that is an embrace of a man who clearly has developed an emotional attachment. And she is allowing him to lay with her. It’s a start.

Zeus turned to walk down the path toward the hall of the gods. Remember, Aphrodite, she needs you to open her heart to him, but she also needs guidance from Apollo and Artemis. Allow them to continue to train her in the skills she needs. She is too powerful of a being to let her go untrained. And as for him, he listens to his Maker. Tristan is mine. He continued on his way till he was gone from her sight.

Aphrodite smiled and waved her hand to disappear in a mist of golden light. She reappeared in Tristan’s bedchamber and gracefully strolled over to the side of the bed where Pagan lay asleep in the arms of her soon to be mate. She leaned over her delicate body and easily caressed her golden ringlets.

Pagan sighed at the goddess’ touch.

Heal, my child, for soon you will find love in the arms of the man that now holds you in his embrace. Aphrodite kissed Pagan’s forehead and a slight pink hue began to form above her crown of golden ringlets.

That’s right, young one, allow him in.

Aphrodite laughed softly and rose to straighten her gold spun silk chiffon that clung to her sensual curves and fell to her golden sandaled feet. She turned and shimmered out of the room to confer with Artemis on the charge she now shared with her and Apollo.

***

Tristan sat up and leaned against his headboard, watching Pagan as she slept. Each breath she took caused her breasts to rise and fall gracefully beneath his sister’s cotton nightgown she loaned Pagan to sleep in. She had no clothes of her own and he intended to change that as soon as possible. He had already sent word to the village seamstress to make ready several gowns for Pagan to wear from the bolts of fabric Betha had picked out. All she needed was Pagan’s measurements to get started and he intended to get those today.

Pagan sighed softly in her sleep, and he wondered what she was dreaming. He had closed off the images that filled his mind as soon as she let them flow from her thoughts. She didn’t do it intentionally, but he always felt them, and he wanted to give her some privacy. They were deeply connected, and he wasn’t sure if that was ever going to change. Somehow, he had managed to bond with a woman he barely knew, but desperately wanted to get to know.

She intrigued him and he was attracted to her. Keeping his erections under control was starting to get harder to do, and having her lay so close to his naked body each night wasn’t helping his situation one bit. Each night she repeated the same words, she planned on gutting him like a snake if he tried anything inappropriate and each night he laughed it off and agreed to be a good boy as long as he was her healer. That time was about to come to an end since she was mending and no longer needed the extent of his life force as she had before.

She always wore a strong composure on her face and her lavender eyes held a hint of defiance he knew was there because of what she had experienced over the years.

He leaned over and touched her ivory skinned cheek. By the heavens, she was beautiful, even though she didn’t believe she was. She was special and her soft heather eyes gave her an allure that beckoned him to hold her, embrace her, heal her, and protect her.

Tristan wanted this woman in his bed in a way he knew was never going to happen. She was Draken’s daughter, and he doubted his cousin would give him permission to court her. More than likely he was going to lock her up in the temples and keep all male Aradians away from her. He had already said her time at her grandparents’ house was to be only a month because he wasn’t sure how the Maker was going to react to her being here. For all they knew, the Maker might make the decision to send her back to Earth after she fully recovered. And if that were the case, he knew Draken would obey and most likely bring her back to Earth himself. Tristan hoped that wouldn’t happen.

Draken planned on fighting for her life and placing her in the care of the priestesses in the religious sector, he told him so. It was the best solution he could come up with since it was supposed to be the Maker’s original plan for Pagan until Draken did what he did. The Maker had never said that was His intent, but Tristan felt in his heart He allowed Pagan to be born for a reason and then abandoned that reason when Draken replaced Pagan’s soul after it had been taken out. It still amazed him that Draken was capable of doing such a thing.

She stirred and rolled over to face him. He pulled the blanket up to cover his slightly erect shaft from her. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked a stare in his direction like she always did each morning she awoke. It was a familiar reaction she had to him, one he welcomed each morning and looked forward to seeing.

“Good morning, princess. Are you feeling better today?”

She stretched and lightly touched the bandage that covered her wound.

“Yes, actually, I am.”

She looked around the room, as if she were searching for something she had misplaced and turned to him. “Tristan, have you seen the comb Betha loaned me?”

“Yes, I put it over on the table by the fireplace. I’ll get it.” Tristan pushed aside the blanket and climbed out of the bed. He heard a shrill shriek leave her lips and he turned around to see what was wrong. “Princess, are you all right?”

“What is it with you and being naked?” She covered her eyes with her hands.

A knock sounded on the door. “Enter,” he said in a slightly raised voice.

“My lord, here is the hot cocoa you asked for,” his servant said.

“Thank you, Stella.” He took the two cups off the tray and placed them on the table. He glanced over at Pagan and noticed she was peeking through her fingers. He chuckled. When she realized she had been caught looking at him, she closed the gap in her fingers to hide her eyes. When Stella left the room, Pagan huffed, but kept her eyes covered.

“Have you no shame? Must you flaunt your naked self in front of everyone?”

“Stella? She’s used to it; besides I have nothing to hide.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Aww, and here it is I thought you liked me.” He carried a cup of the steaming cocoa over to her and sat beside her on the bed.

“Liking you has nothing to do with eyeing you.”

“Were you eyeing me, princess?” he asked with a hint of playfulness in his voice. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like what you see?” He touched her hand and pulled it away from her eyes.

She shut her eyes tight in defiance.

“Tristan, put clothes on and no I don’t particularly care to see you naked.”

“That’s not what I asked. If you want this delicious cup of hot cocoa, you will have to open your eyes. Otherwise, you might spill it and burn yourself, trying to drink it like a blind woman, and I’m not moving or putting clothes on till you drink this.”

“But I have to pee.”

“Well, then I suggest you open your eyes, and do as I tell you, unless you plan on wetting the bed. And I think you are a bit too old for that.”

She grunted and reluctantly opened her eyes, keeping her gaze sternly on his face. He handed her the cocoa, and she drank the majority of it before handing the cup back to him.

“Now may I go pee?” she asked sarcastically.

“Yes, you may.”

He stood and allowed her to step out of the bed. Her feet hit the floor with a distinct sound of indignation, and she marched over to his side of the bed, picked up his breeches off the floor and hurled them at him, hitting him in his chest.

She whirled on her heels and stomped to the privy, speaking rather loudly over her shoulder, “I don’t know why you don’t have a tub in here. You have running water and a working toilet.”

“I prefer bathing the old fashion way. You have a problem with that?”

He walked over to his dresser and grabbed a clean pair of breeches and a tunic from a drawer before putting them on. He walked over to the chair by the fireplace and pulled on his leather boots.

“You sure are demanding for a guest, you know,” he said.

She appeared in the doorway of his privy and leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded over her chest. She hesitated for a moment and glared at him. By the heavens, she was gorgeous, standing there like that. The sunlight from the window created a silhouette of her slender body through the soft thin gown.

He extended his hand out to her. “Come, princess, eat your breakfast with me. I have to go see Draken this morning and I want to make sure you are properly fed before I leave.”

Her eyes widened in what could only be described as a sudden panic from his words, and he felt the slight nervousness that emanated from her slender frame. She wasn’t able to hide her emotions from him, he knew it, but he wasn’t sure if she knew it. He didn’t dare tell her he was able to feel what she was feeling. He didn’t want to frighten her and she close her mind to him. He liked having this connection with her, but he also knew she needed to know the truth about what had happened between them, just not now.

“It will be all right, Pagan.”

She slowly walked over to the chair opposite where Tristan sat. Draken. He was going to see her father. She dared not ask why, for in the back of her mind she knew it was about her. She was to stay here with Tristan till she healed and no longer needed him to place his life force in her to do so, and she had made progress, she felt it. It was all thanks to Tristan and his insistence on lying with her each night.

Was it time for her to leave? And if so, where? Draken had said she was to go live with her grandparents, but what if they didn’t want her? Draken had told them she was here, but they never came to even meet her. They had sent servants over to check on her progress, but they themselves never once stepped foot in Tristan’s room to physically see her. And what of the Maker? He had banished her from this place. Would He allow her to stay? That thought never crossed her mind when she was fleeing from Earth. All she could think about was getting to safety. And now that she was here would He send her back?

Well, surely if He wanted her dead He would have struck her down by now with a lighting bolt or whatever it was He used to get rid of people. She didn’t even know who or what He was. Was He real? He had to be since He banished Draken to Earth. How does one banish someone anyway? Why would Draken do what another told him to do? It wasn’t in his nature.

Stella knocked on the door before entering and placed the plates in front of them on the small table. Pagan stared blindly into the fireplace focusing on the flames that kept the room warm.

“Is she all right, my lord?” Stella asked Tristan.

“Yes, she’s fine, Stella. Thank you,” Tristan said as he began examining the meal on his plate.

Stella bowed her head and quietly left the room, closing the heavy door behind her.

Tristan got out of his chair and walked over to Pagan and stood behind her. He placed his hands upon her shoulders and gently massaged the tension out of her body.

She closed her eyes and released a soft sigh from her lips. He said nothing. All he did was fill her with a soothing energy from his body to calm her. She was nervous and upset at what Draken might decide to do with her. The thoughts running through her mind were scattered and he felt her uneasiness at the prospect of being forced to return to Earth. He wasn’t going to allow that to happen. As far as he was concerned, she was here and if he had to speak to the Maker himself on the matter, he would. Pagan was where she belonged, and he planned on fighting for her right to stay here in Aradia. She was half Aradian and Aradians belonged in Aradia.

***

Tristan walked to the door of his cousin’s study to find Draken, Samson, Brailey, and the leader of the 3rd Ruling House, Randall, all engrossed in a conversation. He guessed the topic to be Pagan. It was foremost on everyone’s mind. They stopped talking when they noticed he was there.

“Tristan, please, come in. I trust you leave Pagan in a well state of being?” Draken asked as Tristan entered the room.

“Yes, she is getting stronger every day. I believe she is ready to move into your house, Samson. I know Elizabeth will be thrilled to have her under her roof,” said Tristan as he shook Samson’s hand.

The clock on the mantel of the marble fireplace chimed the hour and Tristan glanced over to check the time. The room was sparsely furnished, but what Draken did have in there was massive in design. The expanse of his desk alone took up half the room and the chair he sat in was more like a throne for a king in size rather than a personal chair in his private house.

The one thing that was out of character for Draken was the portrait of his deceased wife that hung on the wall behind his desk. It was the only picture of the woman in the whole house, not that it was customary for a woman’s picture to be hung in a home anyway, it was just that he cared for her, but didn’t love her and he rarely spent any time with her, and now all he had left of Felicia was the portrait painted on their wedding day.

“I have asked you to join us for a discussion about Pagan’s future,” Draken said as he motioned for Tristan to take a seat.

“I thought it was decided. She is staying in Aradia.” Tristan sat across from Draken and acknowledged the presence of the other men with a nod.

“She is well enough to make her own decision. Has she mentioned anything to you about returning to Earth?” asked Randall.

“No, my lord, she hasn’t. Are you considering sending her back?” Tristan asked.

“Well, it is a possibility,” Randall said.

“Draken, you can’t send her back! What about her soul mate that is trying to rejoin with her! He’ll kill her when he figures out it is impossible!” Tristan voiced his concern.

“Hold your temper, Tristan. We are not sending her back. I will not allow it.” Draken raised his hand to silence Tristan.

“He is not her soul mate,” a soft female voice interrupted the conversation.

Everyone looked in the hall to see a finely dressed woman cloaked in black. She removed the hood of her cloak to reveal her face and she looked directly at Draken. “I am.”

Silence filled the room.

“That is why I have come to warn you of the dangers the Earth man poses to Aradia.” She entered the study. Tristan stood and offered her his seat. She graciously accepted and sat in the chair. Tristan stood behind her.

“My lord ruler, this man believes Pagan to be his soul mate. He is obsessed with her and will do anything to get to her. Her life is in danger as well as ours. He will keep looking for her and will soon figure out she is here. If he finds the veil, he will cross it and destroy and maim our people to find her, like he has done to his own. And if he gets to her, he will figure out she cannot rejoin with him, or she may not be the one, and he will torture her if she doesn’t teach him how to use her gifts. He considers it to be magic and that is what he truly wants to possess, a power to control others and rule as a king in his world. He will keep searching for his soul mate here and kidnap our women till he finds her. He must be stopped and Pagan protected. Yes, she is a Halfling, but she is also one of us.”

“Who are you?” Asked Draken.

“I am a keeper of the souls, a priestess in the service of the Maker and it is He who has sent me to you.”

“The priestess is right, Draken. Pagan didn’t ask for any of this, and this man has hounded her for more than a year. We must keep her safe,” Tristan said with conviction.

“That we agree upon, but how?” Asked Draken.

The woman spoke again, “Put her under the protection of the 1st Ruling House. Marry her into it and no one in Aradia would dare give her up to the warlord. After she is integrated into our society, take a small group of men and cross the veil to kill the warlord. He must be stopped. The future of Aradia depends upon it.”

Draken twisted his hands together in thought. “Is this the decree of the Maker Himself?”

“Yes,” she lowered her head.

“Tell the Maker I will meet with Him on the matter in the temple. He and I have spoken there before.”

She bowed her head in acceptance of his words.

“Samson, do you accept the offer of protection and marriage of your granddaughter into the 1st Ruling House and allow her to be betrothed immediately to the eldest single male in my family?” Asked Draken.

“Yes, Draken, I do. But you really don’t need my approval. She is legally your daughter.”

“Yes, I know, but she will be living under your roof in the meantime, and I don’t want any legal questions to be raised. I want to cover all the bases. Let us draw the papers immediately. Tristan, you need to go to your future bride and convince her to marry you. She’ll have to whether or not she agrees, but at least you can try to make your marriage a pleasant one.”

“What?” Tristan’s eyes widened at what was transpiring at the moment.

“You, my boy, are getting married.”

***

General Gomez walked toward the makeshift tent his men had erected. They had set up camp in the Mexican jungle in order to conduct the daily raids on the Maya villages, looking for his lavender-eyed soul mate. She had been able to avoid him for years with the aid of the two men, who help raised her.

He had caught word of the young girl with the unusual eyes and rumors spread of her being a bruja, but he knew better. She had to be his soul mate that legends spoke of, not a witch. Even if she were, he would get what he wanted and kill her if he had to. She was his power and he needed it back. She had to be the one and he decided to look for her when the rumors of her existence reached Guatemala fifteen years ago.

The dark-haired guardian that kept her safe fled and she was at the mercy of two Maya men. He had no idea where they lived until now. His search had brought him here near the outskirts of Merida. She was within his grasp and somehow slipped away, a mistake he intended to rectify.

It had been a year since he reached this region and found the old man she called abuelo. He shot the man in hopes she would find out and return to his side. He was right, she had done exactly that. He knew her mind; she had to be his soul mate. But his men had screwed up and lost her. He had given orders for her not to be harmed, and a new member of his army fired his weapon at her and shot her.

Well, he would never make that mistake again; he had the man gutted in front of his men to show how he dealt with people, who disobeyed his orders. Now his main concern was to find the girl. She couldn’t have gone far with her injuries, but all searches turned up nothing. It was as if she had vanished into thin air. It was her power at play here. He knew it.

Gomez heard the woman’s scream and he smiled. He had found a village woman who had been rumored to know his soul mate. He captured her and brought her here. She would give up the location of the lavender-eyed girl or pay dearly for her silence. Although this particular woman very rarely shut up. She had a fowl mouth on her, and she chose to keep her mouth shut about the location of the girl. It was a decision she was going to regret. Gomez entered the tent and the woman strained against the ropes that held her suspended from the ceiling. He walked over to her, and she spat in his face.

“I see you still are as charming as you were when I first grabbed you, Esmeralda,” Gomez said as he wiped her saliva off his face.

“Go to hell!” Esmeralda yelled.

Gomez grabbed her by her hair and pulled her head back severely, and she grimaced from the pain.

“I have no intentions on paying Satan a visit, but you, bitch, will see his black eyes if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

He released her hair and struck his fist against her cheek. Her eyes were black, and her lips swollen from the beating his men had given her earlier. He had ordered her to be whipped within an inch of her life before she was even to be questioned. He wanted her to beg for her life when she saw him and instead, she insulted him. She was definitely going to pay for her insolence.

He walked a circle around her and ripped the remainder of her shirt from her body. Her back was laced with open wounds from the leather whip that had been used upon her skin. Now he intended to scar her chest as well. He picked up the whip from the table and struck it across her chest with all his strength. She screamed with every lash he laid upon her as blood oozed from the fresh wounds, staining her brown skin.

“Tell me where she is!”

“Who!”

Another lash snapped against her skin. “The girl with the lavender eyes! I know you spread your legs for her keeper! I have witnesses who saw you with him! Where is she?”

She lowered her head and her eyes rolled back into her eye sockets. Damn it! She was passing out! It was too soon for that. He needed answers. He lowered the whip and stood inches away from her face. He ruggedly grabbed her by her chin. She opened her eyes and glared at him with a defiant stare.

“All I know is that she had been shot by your men and no one has seen her since. I swear to you. She could have been eaten by a jaguar for all I know.” She started to sob.

Gomez cursed beneath his breath. He knew the woman was telling the truth. She had no idea where the girl was. No one did. She had somehow managed to disappear. It had to be her power. She must have used it to hide herself away, but where?

He went to the open fire outside the tent and placed an iron rod in the flames till it glowed a bright orange. He ordered one of his men to hold the captive still. He walked slowly toward her and raised the hot iron in front of her face.

“Open your eyes, Esmeralda. I want you to see what I am going to do to you. You are going to serve as a warning to all the people that live here. I grant you your life, but I place my mark upon you to remind all that I’ll be watching and if anyone keeps information silent about my lavender-eyed girl, they, too, will be burned.”

He pressed the hot iron against her cheek. She screamed in agony and passed out from the pain.

He laughed, as he lowered his arm, letting the hot iron fall to the floor. He motioned for one of his men to untie her.

“Bring the bitch back to her village.”

“Yes, general.” Cortez immediately cut Esmeralda’s rope and she fell to the floor.

Gomez walked over to her motionless body and knelt over her. He lovingly caressed a lock of her hair. She was kind of pretty, he thought. Perhaps if the situation had been different, he might have considered making her his mate. But then again, he disliked her fowl mouth and more than likely would end up killing her for back talking him. It was just as well. There were plenty of women around here he could use to sate his lust. It just wasn’t going to be this one.

“Where is your tall white man now, Esmeralda? He sated his desire with you, and then left you when he got bored with you. Serves you right, bitch.”