Chapter 4

The 2nd Ruling House wasn’t that far from the first, as Tristan had told her. It was a five maybe ten minutes’ walk, if you walked slowly, which they were doing. Pagan glanced at her surroundings to see well-manicured shrubs that had been kept warm with special blankets to protect them from the cold turn to tall leafless trees waiting for spring to awaken them back to life, as they came close to the edge of the woods.

The cycle of life continued no matter what else was going on. It was the same here, as it was on Earth. Another world away were the villagers of her little Maya village that were wearing light jackets and sweaters and complaining they wanted the spring to hurry up and arrive. She couldn’t imagine what they might have said about snow and the cold temperatures since they never had them in Mexico.

Pagan pulled her wool wrap closer to her neck, as a cool breeze rustled through the bare trees. Tristan immediately removed his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders and tied it close to her neck. He was a tall man, so his warm cloak fell to her ankles. He was taking care of her again without a thought of his own discomfort.

She was thankful for the extra warmth, and she breathed in his scent that seemed to be woven within the soft wool fabric. It was a mixture of musk and a woodsy aroma that he used in his bath soap. She had gotten used to his scent as it whisked into her nose each night as he held her close to heal her.

She glanced over to him and watched, as he held his head down, seemingly concentrating on the ground below each step he took. His sword that lay snug in the holster on his wide leather belt was close at hand. He rested one hand on the gold hilt, as if he were ready to draw his weapon and attack an unseen enemy that only he was aware of.

That’s when she noticed the straightening of his back and the tense expression that suddenly took hold of his composure. He took her hand and guided her to his other side away from the sword that now became the center of her attention.

Tristan felt the unwelcome presence shortly after they came closer to the edge of the woods. It felt like pure evil in form, and he wondered if it were a man or actually an energy form that he suspected it to be. He had never encountered an energy life form before, but his instinct told him that was exactly that, and its intended target was Pagan. It lay low at first, but as they got deeper along the wooden path, it began to creep closer, hiding behind the lifeless trees. He wasn’t sure if his sword would be an effective weapon, but his hand was getting itchy.

Something was out there. It didn’t dare cross their path to get to Pagan; instead, it kept low, but not too far. He didn’t want to take any chances with her life. Especially since there was another life form that invaded her thoughts as easily as he, the golden light in her mind, and the recent appearance of the voices. None of this felt right and he knew in his heart he needed to protect her.

Then, without warning, a grayish black sphere shot out from behind a tree, and in an instant, Tristan flung his arm with force to throw a massive pure white energy ball in the direction of the negative energy being to have it burst into a thousand tiny gray spirals and dissipate with an unworldly shrill echoing throughout the woods.

“Pagan, are you all right?”

“Tristan, what was that?”

He stretched his arm out to keep her out of the way of any others if there were more. He surveyed the area with a slow and deliberate steely gaze and relaxed his stance, as he didn’t feel another presence in the area. Pagan clutched his arm that kept her at bay, and he looked at her slender fingers to see they were glowing white. Subconsciously she was preparing to deliver an energy blow, but she wasn’t used to manipulating the energy of Aradia, and it was harder for her to form the needed self defense ability like she was capable of doing on Earth.

He knew right then she needed training, especially if evil creatures such as the one that just tried to attack them were lurking about. What was it? If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn it was a departed soul. Could a soul without a body contain such an evil aura?

“Tristan?”

“I don’t know, but whatever it was, it’s gone now. The 2nd Ruling House isn’t much further. I suggest we quicken our pace to get you to safety.”

He nudged her forward and they quickly made their way to the 2nd Ruling House of Aradia.

***

Apollo appeared in the path his charge and her betrothed had vacated. He looked around the area with concern, as to what had just happened. Artemis stepped out from behind a bare tree and stood at his side.

Apollo, where did it come from?

My guess, Hades’ realm, but how, I’m not sure.

The realm of the underworld is only beneath Earth, not Aradia. It must have escaped and crossed the veil. The goddess surveyed the spot where the evil soul became nonexistent. It was after Pagan, was it not?

Yes, Artemis, it was, and I don’t think by coincidence. We must speak with Father.

The deities nodded to each other and walked into a mist to appear in the sacred hall of the gods to consult their father.

***

Tristan ushered Pagan into her grandparents’ house with a sense of urgency. He was still concerned about the unexplained being that charged toward them, and he wanted to get her to safety. Pagan watched him, as he reluctantly handed his sword to a maid. He wanted to be prepared, she could tell. His overprotective nature was vibrating around him, and she actually was able to see it. She had never before been able to see auras, but Tristan at that very moment was glowing a brilliant white, almost as white as the energy ball he threw to destroy the creature.

She was stunned at the swiftness of his reaction, as the creature appeared out of nowhere, and within an instant, the being was gone. She was capable of forming energy balls, but never at the intensity Tristan seemed to be able to do.

“May I take your cloak, my lady?”

Pagan untied Tristan’s wool cloak and shrugged out from its warmness. She handed it to the waiting maid and Tristan guided her with a gentle hand on her elbow into the drawing room. He stopped in front of a rather long sofa that was a deep blue in color. The pillows that accentuated the elegant piece of furniture were crafted of a soft blue fabric that held a sateen sheen. She casually leaned over a bit to caress the fabric and the plumpness of a pillow.

She wondered how many times her mother had sat on this sofa and maybe even laid her head on the luxurious pillow, it was a curious thought, but also a nervous one. A whole lifetime of memories existed in this place for her mother, and she only knew what Betha had told her.

The maid went over to the window and pulled back the heavy blue drapes that blocked out the cold. Pagan noticed that she went about her business of readying the room for the lord and the lady. Had they not been expecting her? It seemed as if they weren’t because if they had, the room would have been already prepared for her arrival. Maybe they really didn’t want her here and were only allowing her to stay because their ruler told them it was to be this way?

Pagan placed her hand on her belly, as her nerves created a large lump of apprehension to form in the pit of her stomach. She was a bundle of nerves and Tristan seemed to be aware of it. He came to stand behind her and began to massage her shoulders in a reassuring manner.

How did he know? He always seemed to know what she needed. She was the empath, not he, and she was really trying not to direct her thoughts toward him, but yet he always knew how she felt. In fact, he had said earlier that he received a headache because she had one, and Betha mentioned something about a mind bond. She was too upset about Draken to really put much thought into what that meant. Could she have a link of some sort with Tristan that he was aware of and not she? How could such a thing form between them?

“Oh, please forgive me for not being ready for your arrival, dear. I was so concerned to make your mother’s room ready for you that I completely forgot about the rest of the house.”

Pagan turned to see an older woman slightly taller than she, standing in the entrance to the drawing room. She was elegant in stature and had the prettiest snow-white hair she had ever seen. It hung graciously down to her waist and had just a hint of a curl at the end. There was genuineness in her voice and the feeling she emanated was one of affection. For once Pagan was glad to be an empath, for at that moment she felt at ease in the presence of her grandmother.

The lady of the house strolled toward Pagan and held her delicate hand out to her.

“Pagan, may I introduce you to your grandmother, Lady Elizabeth,” Tristan said.

Pagan took her offered hand and Elizabeth squeezed it softly.

“I have never laid eyes on you till this very moment. You were barely two weeks old when Draken brought you to Aradia, and events being as they were; he kept everyone away from you because you were so tiny and born premature in the dead of winter. Your health was his utmost concern. I just wish your mother had a chance to hold you. She never had a chance to see your beautiful eyes before she…”

“My mother never saw me?” Pagan asked in surprise.

“No, my dear, I’m afraid not.”

Tears formed in her grandmother’s eyes and Pagan was filled with the mixed emotions of happiness and sadness that the other woman was feeling.

Pagan wrapped her arms around her grandmother and held her tightly.

“Oh, Grandmother, please, don’t cry, I’m here now, all will be better.”

Pagan began to cry, and the two women formed an instant bond that Pagan knew could never be broken. This woman gave birth to her mother and raised her to be the woman she was. If her mother was anything like her grandmother, she must have been a lady full of love in her heart.

“Look at that. Put two paths in a room and the tears are bound to fall.”

“Oh, Samson, hush and get over here and meet Pagan.” Elizabeth stepped back to allow her grandfather to hug her.

“Oh, my child, please forgive me for not winning my battle with the council. I didn’t want to let you go. You were my Fauna’s little girl. I wanted you here.”

“Grandfather, I believe it didn’t matter who won custody of me, the Maker had other plans and He did as He saw fit.”

He released her and immediately reached for Tristan’s hand. The two men shared a firm handshake.

“Son, I owe you a world of gratitude for saving my granddaughter, and please feel free to stay with her whenever you like, as is now your right. All though, keep in mind she has not been through her rite of passage, and being you are the honorable man I know you to be, you will respect her.”

“Yes, Lord Samson, you have my word I will respect your granddaughter in every way.”

“Right? This is the second time today I’ve heard that word. What right do you have?” Pagan gave Tristan a questioning glance.

Samson chuckled, “Why, dear, he is your–”

Elizabeth shoved her elbow into his side.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“Healer, Samson, Tristan is her healer.”

“Ohhh, yes, of course, her healer.” Samson cleared his throat.

“Pagan, my dear, come with me and I’ll show you to your new room.” Elizabeth took Pagan by her hand and led her toward the massive staircase in the foyer.

Pagan looked over her shoulder and spoke directly to his mind, Tristan, what’s going on? What right is he talking about?

Just go, Pagan, I’ll be up in a moment. I want to talk to your grandfather.

Samson waited till the women were out of earshot before he approached Tristan.

“She doesn’t know?” Samson asked.

“The opportunity hasn’t presented itself.”

“Boy, you better tell her and soon. She’s going to be madder than hell if she hears that she is to be your wife from someone else and believe me the last thing you want is to have an path direct her anger straight at you. I learned that the hard way with my lovely Elizabeth.”

Pagan stood in front of the wooden door. She waited patiently for her grandmother to open the massive wooden structure that led to what was to be her bedroom. This was her mother’s room. She was to sleep in her mother’s bed each night and be among her things.

Tristan had told her that her grandmother refused to change anything in the room. Pagan was glad for that really, for now she had an opportunity to see what her mother saw and experience a part of her life that would have been otherwise lost to her. It had been twenty years since her death, but she hoped maybe that her energy signature was still prevalent, and she could use her empathic ability to feel her mother’s presence. It was a long shot, but she hoped it would be.

Elizabeth gently pulled the lever and pushed the door open. Pagan was immediately hit with a burst of light, as all the window drapes were retracted, and the sunrays filtered through the room in all directions. It was a most welcome sight and she stepped into the room in awe of her new surroundings.

She strolled to the center and turned in a complete circle, trying to see everything at once. To her right was the main expanse of the room with a fireplace along the wall, waiting for a fire to be set a blaze. The wood had been brought in and was set in the center of the hearth, waiting to be lit. Slightly to the side and facing the fireplace was a lone winged chair upholstered with a pink and yellow floral print. Next to it was an elegantly carved wooden round table with intricate rose patterns inlayed in the dark wood. Over in the corner against the wall was a rather large armchair and she immediately thought of Draken. Something told her that was his chair and for some reason he spent a lot of time in this very room.

She shook her head to rid her mind of the thoughts that began to swim in her brain. Betha had told her Draken had smothered her mother and Pagan knew how overpowering his presence was. No, she had to get those thoughts out of her mind. This was her moment, and she wasn’t going to let her anger or Draken take this away from her.

She turned away to look at the large bed next to a window. She walked over to it and wrapped her hand around one of the slender posts. Her mother had a king size canopy bed and it, too, was carved with roses on the headboard like the table by the fireplace. She lightly touched the spread and reveled in the softness. It was made out of what felt like cotton and was puffy like a down comforter like the resorts used along the Mexican Riviera. It was butter cream in color and void of any design.

She looked down at her feet and rubbed the toe of her shoe in the fluffy rug that lay sprawled at the foot of the bed. She laughed softly at the idea of actually having such a luxury. None of this was like she had in Mexico. Her little hut was rugged compared to all of this, but yet it still was her childhood home, and she cherished every moment she had with her abuelo and Marco.

“I hope this is to your liking. It had been some time since I have been in here and I was amazed how much dust had collected. I had one of the maids help me air the room out. We opened the windows two days ago, that’s why it is so chilly in here. As soon as the fire is started, it will warm up,” her grandmother said.

“I’ll do that, Lady Elizabeth.” Tristan walked into the room and headed straight for the fireplace. Within minutes a fire blazed and the warmth from the flames glowed upon his cheeks.

“Thank you, Tristan. You have done so much.” Elizabeth smiled then turned her attention back to Pagan. “Are you cold, dear?”

“A little, yes.”

“We can’t have that, can we now, princess.” Tristan went to her side and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back with his strong hands. He guided her to the fireplace, and she stretched her hands out toward the flames to allow the heat to warm her cold fingers.

“I’m going to head down to the kitchen to help get dinner started. When you are ready, come down and I’ll show you the rest of the house. We do have a library if you like to read.”

“Yes, thank you, Grandmother.”

Elizabeth turned to leave, then stopped to gaze at Pagan. “Pagan, if you like, we can eat dinner in here so that you can get acquainted with your mother’s things. Your grandfather won’t mind, he has business to attend to, and it will be just you and I. A little girl time maybe?”

“Yes, I would like that very much. Do you mind, Tristan?”

“I think that is a wonderful idea. We can talk later.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Good, then it’s settled.” She headed for the door. “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit.” She walked out of the room, not closing the door.

Tristan twirled a finger in one of her ringlets. It was a comforting action, and she really didn’t mind it, though she wondered at his intent. Lately he had been more attentive than usual, and it wasn’t just after his meeting with Draken, it actually started several days before that.

Was it possible he had developed feelings for her? They had been together every day since she got there, and she was forced to share his bed. Well, that wasn’t quite true; he was her healer at first, but if she had protested enough, she could have stayed with Betha down the hall. Why hadn’t she? Once she was able to get out of bed and walk on her own, there was really no reason for her to stay with Tristan. But yet, she did.

Was it true? Was she starting to have affection for him? Or was it just a natural reaction because he had saved her life? Yes. That had to be it. She didn’t want to love any man, couldn’t love a man, why put herself through the heartache? She was here to start a new life and to learn about the world she came from, and having a relationship right now was out of the question. It would just get in the way. Besides, she didn’t even know how to be in a relationship. Running from Gomez never gave her the chance to get close to a guy.

“Pagan, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yes, Tristan. What is it?”

“I know this is going to sound like it came out of nowhere, but, well, do you think there is the slightest chance you might…consider…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn, this is harder than I thought it was going to be.”

“Tristan, what are you trying to say?” she asked.

“Circumstances being as they are has put us in a certain position that…Wait, before I go into details, I have to ask you something. Pagan, do you even like me at all?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course I like you.”

“No, I mean really like me, enough to tolerate being around me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Tristan placed his hands on her shoulders and searched her eyes for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. She felt a sudden uneasiness fill his body with her empathic ability and she began to realize that whatever he was trying to tell her affected him as well as her. Something was up and his choice of words concerned her.

Tolerate him? He made it sound like she disliked him and was only allowing him to be around because she didn’t have a choice. That wasn’t the case. Yes, they had been thrown together, but that didn’t mean she despised him. She did like him, more than she cared to admit, and that was what he wanted her to do, speak out loud how she felt about him. Why?

“Tristan, I appreciate all you have done for me, and I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you, and that there has created a bond between us, but to think I only want you around out of some sense of duty is absurd.”

“I take it that’s a yes?”

Now, she was the one that felt uncomfortable. She stepped back to look around the room for a distraction from the conversation that did come out of nowhere as he suggested. She hugged her arms tightly and rubbed her fingers against the long sleeves of the gown to try to figure out to put how she felt into words without having to actually speak them.

“Tristan, I don’t think I can say it any differently, I don’t know how.”

“It’s all right. I can feel how you feel for me, I just wanted to hear you say it.”

He walked up behind her. He placed his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace against his chest. He sent a wave of affection into her, and she soon found herself surrounded by his essence. A surge of masculinity filled her mind and slowly drifted down her spine to rest in her womb. It was overwhelming and began to tingle to the point she bent over his arm slightly, as the flutter of desire washed over her.

“Tristan? By the heavens, what are you doing?”

“Shh, princess,” he whispered against her hair. “There is something I need to tell you and I wanted you to know the real me before I say it. I will never hurt you, I think you know that, but try to remember that there are things that dictate our lives that we have no control over.”

The energy increased and she started to pant. Her palms began to sweat, as she grew hot in his arms. Why was he doing this? She had never felt anything like this before. He was too strong, and her first instinct was to fight him, free herself from the urge that was taking hold of her common sense. She wanted him, it was an impossible sensation to struggle against, but she truly wanted him. No, she thought, this was wrong. She didn’t want to get this close to anyone.

“Please, Tristan, you’re frightening me.”

“No, Pagan, that is not fear. I can feel what you want. Your empathic ability is screaming in my head right now, and it is hard for me to ignore it, though I know I must.”

He slowly gripped her arms and turned her to face him. He lowered his head to linger over her lips.

“This is all I’m allowed to do,” he said.

He pressed his lips upon hers, and without thinking, she responded. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, and with a sensuality that caused a soft moan to escape her lips. He took in a deep breath and deepened the pressure, as she opened her mouth slightly to allow his passionate ministrations to play upon her tingling lips. He was kissing her, and she for some unknown reason was letting him.

Tristan released her now swollen lips and nipped ever so gingerly on her bottom one.

“Marry me, Pagan,” he whispered.

“What?” she asked in a daze with her mind reeling at what she thought she heard him say. She stepped back and he pulled her to him again, not releasing his hold on her arms.

“There is no other option for us. It is better if you agree. Please, Pagan, say yes. I don’t want to make this any harder for you than it already is.”

Pagan immediately freed herself from his endearing embrace. She stepped away, putting the much-needed distance between them. This was too sudden, not expected at all. Why had her empathic ability not warned her of his intentions? Was she so consumed with her anger over Draken that she failed to see what was right in front of her? Marriage, he wanted her to be his wife. What sparked this sudden desire to marry her?

“Tristan, this is so sudden, I–”

“Pagan, before you say no, there is more you need to know.”

“More? What more could there be?”

She began to stumble, as he approached her, and she found herself tripping over a base of a dressing mirror. She quickly turned to face it and braced her trembling hands against the mirror that had a blanket draped over it. She instinctively pulled the cotton blanket off and stared at his approaching form behind her. The look in his eyes was one of a man who knew what he wanted and what he wanted was her.

Pagan ran her hand over the cold glass, and she felt a weak energy pulse that was held deep within. She concentrated on the source and the pulse began to strengthen.

“Pagan, what is it?”

“I don’t know. There seems to be something forming in the mirror, I can feel it.”

“NO! PAGAN, GET AWAY FROM THAT MIRROR!”

A harsh firm hand grabbed her wrist and violently forced her hand away from the glass. She looked up into the glaring eyes of Draken.

“Don’t you ever touch that mirror again!”

He tightened the hold on her wrist. He was seething with anger, and he was directing it straight at her. What had she done to create such a reaction?

“Draken, you are hurting me. Let me go!”

“NO! Not until you get away from that damn mirror!”

“Draken, she told you to release her. I suggest you do it,” Tristan said in a firm tone.

Draken gave Pagan a stern look. “That mirror was the source of all my problems and the reason she is dead. I gave her that mirror as a wedding gift and she used it to deceive me and contact her soul mate. I will not have you follow in her footsteps!”

“You can’t control me anymore than you were able to control my mother. She left you, Draken, because she wanted to get as far away from you as she possibly could, and I don’t blame her for wanting to! If I want to reach out and touch my father’s memory in this mirror, I will!”

“He was never a father to you! You are my daughter by law, and you will not disobey me!”

He raised his other hand to strike her, and Tristan grabbed his wrist and firmly held it in mid air.

“Choose your actions here carefully, Draken. I remind you that Pagan no longer belongs to you. You have no legal right to do what you will with her, and I will defend her, as is my right. Never raise your hand to strike her again.”

He released her wrist and Tristan pulled her to stand behind him. Draken screamed with fury and slammed his clenched fist into the center of the mirror. The force of the contact caused the glass to shatter, and he raised his fist again and smashed the looking glass to have it burst into tiny pieces across the floor. He walked over to the table and aggressively snatched a hand towel that had been placed there and wrapped his bleeding hand.

“I should have done that twenty years ago.”

He stormed out of the room and Tristan followed him.

“Draken!”

Tristan stopped him at the top of the stairs.

“What the hell was that? You and I both know who her soul mate is, and that mirror would never had created a connection, the priestess would never allow it to happen. And to raise your hand to strike her? You know better than to hit a woman that belongs to another man. The moment I penned my name on that betrothal contract, Pagan became my property. She is mine and it is my place to discipline her if I feel she needs it and she didn’t need it. There is nothing wrong with her wanting to know her biological father. He is dead and her looking into his past isn’t going to change that fact.”

Draken took in a deep breath, but still held an angry tone in his voice.

“You’re right, she does belong to you. But heed my advice, Tristan. Don’t let her toy with the idea of using her abilities to seek out the past. If she is anything like her mother, it will be her undoing. Keep her from wandering and she’ll stay alive. Learn from my mistake, mark her as yours as soon as you can.”

“I already have, I just can’t follow through with it because of her rite of passage.”

Draken raised his eyebrow. “Smart man. Keep it up and she’ll have no choice but to mate with you. Two months may seem like forever, but you must follow the Maker’s request and wait.” He took two steps down and paused. “Tristan, you did right by stopping me. You will be a good husband for my daughter.”

Tristan waited till Draken walked out the front door before he returned to Pagan.

Pagan looked up to see Tristan standing in the doorway. She lowered her gaze to the array of glass that was scattered on the floor below her knees. She had sat on the floor to try to pick up the mess that her actions seemed to cause.

Damn that man. He had no right to destroy her mother’s mirror. His jealousy toward her father apparently had been locked in his heart all these years and the thought of her trying to make a connection with him, no matter how small it was, released his rage and he directed it toward her.

She slowly gathered the larger pieces in a pile. Tristan walked in and knelt beside her.

“Here, let me help you with this.”

She pushed his hand away. “No, I’ll do it. I think you need to leave. I’ve had enough of the men from the 1st Ruling House for one day.”

He sighed, “All right, I’ll go. I’ll be back in the morning to take you to your priest’s grave so you can say a proper farewell.”

He rose to stand and gently caressed the crown of her head.

“Draken had no right to do what he did, and he will never raise his hand to you again.”

“And if he does?” she asked.

“I’ll end his life.”

He left the room before she had a chance to respond. She was taken aback at his words. End his life? Would Tristan really kill Draken for trying to strike her? And why would he feel the need to do so? He was acting as if he owned her in some way and that just wasn’t true. He had healed her, and he did have an affection for her, she felt it emanate from him, but to say such a thing as ending a life?

Then his words of marriage entered her mind. He had just asked her to marry him. Why? Was that the reason he was being so protective of her? He proposed to her and since he had spoken the words did that make him think she belonged to him? Her head began to swim with all the events that had happened in one day. It was too much to think about. All she wanted to do was go to bed and put all of this behind her. She was to spend her life here in her grandparents’ house and that was all that mattered.

She cleaned up the mess of glass off the floor and placed it in a basket by the door. She glanced around the room to see if there was a dresser of some kind that might have sleeping clothes in it. She found it and opened a drawer. There was a long nightgown in it. It was the only piece of clothing in there. She picked it up and proceeded toward the bed to get undressed.

She was sleeping alone tonight for the first time since she came to Aradia. Tristan had been by her side every day. She was looking forward to this reprieve. She needed to be alone to think things through. She placed the gown on the bed then realized she had promised to have dinner with her grandmother.

“Pagan, I have some fruit for us to snack on until dinner is ready,” her grandmother said as she entered the room carrying a tray.

Pagan went to her and took the tray from her and brought it to the table.

Her grandmother looked around the room and her eyes focused on the mirror. “What happened?” she asked.

“Draken.”

Not another word was said about her mother’s dressing mirror as the two women made polite conversation in order to get to know each other.