The Stone Prince

NINETEEN

HEATHER WENT TO BED early that night, as she had the last two nights, hoping for another appearance from her dream man. She didn’t have to wait long. Just as he had the other times, Percen materialized beside her as quickly as if she’d flipped on a light switch—as if he couldn’t wait to see her.

But this night, as she gazed at him, she couldn’t deny that she was awake. She wasn’t dreaming, yet there was he. She’d suspected that he was more than a figment of her imagination, but now she knew for sure.

He was real.

The realization didn’t frighten her, however. He made her feel too good to fear him. She couldn’t explain his presence, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was lying beside her, enveloping her with his warmth. Whoever he was, whatever he was—a ghost or vampire or a dream come to life—she wanted him with her just the same.

He’d told her she belonged to him, and Heather wanted those words to be true. She wanted to be his. Totally and completely. Yet he hadn’t made love to her yet, hadn’t touched her in a sexual way. She yearned for his body inside of hers, making them one being.

Silently, she studied this man she had known only a short time, but had somehow managed to become so important to her. As she took in each of his features, a frown tugged at her lips. Tonight Percen looked as if he were wearing some sort of mask. His usually flawless skin, almond-shaped eyes and straight, even nose appeared…too perfect. He was beautiful still, in a dark sort of way, his skin wonderfully tanned, his muscles hard as stone, but something wasn’t right.

Maybe he had always looked this way, and she was only just noticing. Or maybe he truly was different. She saw a vulnerability about him now, a deeply ingrained vulnerability that seeped from every part of him. He reminded her of herself, wounded and weary, and that knowledge wrapped around her like a long bolt of silk. Did he possess the same bone-deep hurts that she possessed?

“You’re back,” she whispered into the darkness.

“Aye. I am back. I cannot stay away.”

“I’ve thought about you all day,” she admitted. “Every moment I worked, every moment I breathed all I could think about was you.”

He paused, as if he was scared to utter his next words. “What were your thoughts?” Each syllable emerged stilted and hesitant.

“I thought of the way you hold me, the way you make me feel so warm.”

He didn’t respond. She began to curse herself for her hasty confession. What if he liked the challenge of winning a woman? What if her easy surrender drove him away?

Then he spoke. “I like that you think of me, angel, I truly do, but I am not the man you think I am.” The admission came reluctantly, and she noticed that every muscle in his body was tense, as if preparing to bolt. “You would not consider me so sweetly if you saw my true appearance.”

Her chin cocked to the side. “I don’t understand.”

“What you perceive me to be is only a mirage. A mask of the man I can never be.” His tone was dark and gritty, accusatory. “I cast a spell that causes you to see only what I want you to see.”

“You’re a witch?” she asked. “A warlock?”

“I know not those words.”

“Someone who uses magic.”

“Aye, I am a sorcerer, the Druinn High Priest, and I do wield magic.”

As a teenager, she had dabbled in the supernatural to escape the terror of her life. She knew outside forces existed all around her, and didn’t doubt his claim of magic. How else could he appear and disappear at whim? “Whatever you are and whatever you can do, I see a man who is good and decent. You have to be. How else could I feel so safe with you?”

He didn’t comment on her words. Instead, he softly caressed a hand over her cheek. Though his hand looked smooth and unblemished, it felt rough with calluses and scars. Strange. Yet the sensation caused a soft tingling to work its way from the back of her neck all the way to her toes.

“Percen?”

“Aye.”

“Is the spell responsible for the warmth I feel every time you are near? For my…desire?”

Again, he hesitated. “Nay,” he said truthfully, his eyes slowly widening with surprise. “Nay. ’Tis not.”

“Then it is you who makes me feel so alive. You.” She realized then that she wanted him to stay with her, not just during the night, but during the days, as well. Every day. Every night. How could she give up this warmth, now that she knew it existed?

“I–I do not know what to say.”

“Say you’ll stay with me.” She cupped his cheeks in her hands. “Say you will stay with me always.”

“Heather, I am…I cannot…You will not understand,” he ended, suddenly angry.

She fought a wave of panic because she felt him mentally and emotionally withdrawing from her. She needed him in her life; somehow, in only these three nights, he had become the center of her existence. She wanted them to have a normal life together. The storybook life she’d always desired, but always found just out of her reach.

“At least give me a chance to understand. Please,” she added desperately when he didn’t acknowledge her words in any way. “Please.”

A knock sounded at the door.

“Heather?” her mother called.

Before she could utter a protest, or even clamp an arm over his abdomen to hold him in place, Percen disappeared. Fighting a wave of desolation, Heather stared down at the bed sheets, at the indentation and wrinkles where he had lain. Her stomach lurched, and she wanted to weep as cold chills raked her from head to toe.

He was gone.

Shaking, she caressed the lingering warmth his body had left.

Another knock, this one louder and more intense, jolted her into awareness. “Are you okay?” her mother asked.

“I’m tired,” she said listlessly. “Just leave me alone.”

A pause. Muffled footsteps as her mother walked away.

Tears pooled in Heather’s eyes and for a moment, she couldn’t see, could only make out the blurred silhouette of her room. Would Percen return to her? She didn’t think so. He was angry with her for a reason she didn’t understand. She had pushed him too far, perhaps. Or asked too much of him.

A quiet sob tore from her throat. It was a sound only a wounded animal would make, deep and gut-wrenching.

“Why do you cry?”

Percen!

“You came back.” She swiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. When she focused, she found he was in the exact position he’d adapted before he left. Of their own accord, her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close, holding him tight. Holding him to her. “Don’t ever leave me again,” she sobbed, suddenly warm again. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

How long she held him like that, while she cried in his arms, she didn’t know. She only knew that being with him was necessary for her survival. She didn’t care if it was magic or chemistry that linked them together. The feelings were there, crackling between them.

“Look at me, Heather,” he beseeched. His tone was softer than she’d ever heard it. “Look at me. Really see the man I am.”

Slowly, keeping herself firmly against him, she pulled back and gazed up at his face. A gasp congealed in her throat. No longer did Percen have the flawless skin and features she’d come to know. His face was now marred with scars. His left eye drooped lower than his right, and his nose was bent at an odd angle. His body was broken and twisted.

Heather didn’t doubt that this was Percen; she knew it was him because of his eyes. The same glint of vulnerability was hidden in their light-blue depths.

At her continued silence, his face darkened with rage. “Do you wish me to stay with you now?” he growled. “I tried to warn you, tried to make you understand that you would not want me.”

Her father had been a very handsome man, yet his beauty had hid the beast within. “I don’t care about your appearance.” Realizing she spoke truthfully, she took his hand in her own and beckoned him to rest his head upon her chest.

Shock, disbelief and incredulity flickered over his expression. “You are not frightened?” he asked softly, hesitating only a moment before burrowing his face in the hollow of her neck.

She held him to her, clinging to him as much as he clung to her. His twisted body shook with his effort to control his emotions. Or perhaps the shaking came from her. “I could never be afraid of you.”

He glanced up, and the look of utter worship he gave her would have felled her had she been standing. His gaze flicked longingly to her lips. A deeply ingrained hunger danced between them. Her mouth parted in invitation. He leaned completely into her, leaving no part of her body untouched, and then he began kissing her, loving her body in a way she’d never dreamed possible. Making love to him felt right, clean and pure. She felt worshipped as he kissed her breasts, her belly, her thighs.

When he entered her, bits and pieces of her soul began to heal. This was the reason she was alive. This was the reason her attempts to rid the world of her existence had failed.

Afterward, they stayed in each other’s arms, both lost in the rightness of the moment. He began telling her the details of his life, his childhood, how he’d been abandoned and forgotten. Heather felt a deep kinship with him, for although her father had not abandoned her, he had betrayed her. And as Percen spoke, she began to think that maybe, just maybe, they could save each other.

“Jorlan did nothing to you, Percen,” she told him gently. “Why do you wish to kill him?”

Percen jolted up, glaring at her. The soft dreamlike haze was destroyed, replaced with the fury she had witnessed only moments before. “He did everything! Had he never been conceived, our mother would have come for me. She would have missed me.”

“No.” Heather shook her head sadly. “Your mother made her choice long before Jorlan was born.”

“Why are you saying this?” He slammed his fist against his hand, then quickly began to reclaim his clothing. “Why are you hurting me like this? I thought you accepted me, wanted me with you always.”

“I do want you with me. I do accept you. Can’t you see I’m trying to help you? If you kill Jorlan, you’ll be hunted. You’ll be taken away from me and locked inside a cell.”

“I am not bound by the rules of your world. Besides, if I were captured, no mortal cell could hold me.”

Maybe not, but he was still just a man, a man who could die like any other. She couldn’t allow him to risk his own life. “Please rethink this, Percen. Do you truly want to risk your own life simply to hurt Jorlan?”

“Aye, I do. I will risk anything, anything to watch my brother suffer.”

“Even me?”

Something cold and hard glittered in his eyes. This was not the man she’d come to know. “Aye, I will risk even you.”

Oh, those words hurt. Yet she still clung to her belief that she could save Percen on her own. “I’ll tell him,” she said. “I’ll warn Jorlan of your presence.”

Percen’s eyes narrowed. He cupped her chin in his hands. “If you tell him anything, I will never warm you again. Do you comprehend what I am saying?”

Everything inside her withered. He’d named the one thing she would never risk. Slowly, she nodded.

“Try to understand.” His tone became soft. “I cannot release what has driven me for so long. Until Jorlan is destroyed, we cannot have the life I dream for us.” He pushed to his feet, once more the stranger she did not recognize. “Stay away from Katie’s home. Do you hear me? Stay away from her home.”

Heather nodded again, this time almost imperceptibly.

Satisfied, he waved his arm in the air and disappeared.