Rise (Roam Series, Book Three) Read online

  On a whim, I swallowed and took a breath.

  “Wait… Troy.”

  He turned at his given name.

  “I would like it to be a masque,” I said, biting my lip to keep from looking at Will. “A costume ball.”

  He walked to me slowly. “Like a princess’s fairy tale,” he tugged me against his body, and I kept my steady gaze.

  “Every girl dreams of being… a princess.”

  “Ah, but Roam,” his lips hovered over mine. “You are a queen.”

  Will’s words sparked hope in my heart for the first time in months. Hesitantly, I stood on my tip-toes, touching my lips to Troy’s.

  My public, voluntary kiss, the first I’d ever given him on my own accord, tightened his grip and quickened his breath. I lifted my arms, wrapping them around his neck, and he groaned, parting my lips in his.

  Don’t vomit.

  “Thank you for caring about me,” I said, lowering my voice to sound as seductive as I possibly could.

  He pulled away, and I fought the shiver at the lustful hunger in his gaze.

  “Will, give her anything she wants for this ball,” he ordered, without turning. “Spare no expense.”

  “Yes, father,” he answered, nodding.

  I lifted my eyes to meet Logan’s, and he stared at me, stunned. “As you can see, Logan is fine.” Troy gestured to his side, his eyes never leaving mine. “In fact,” he slid the backs of his fingers over my cheek, “Logan, you will join her guard while I am gone. Two on her, two at the door,” Troy ordered to a soldier, who bowed.

  His tongue touched his lips. “I wish I had time to properly say good-bye to you… upstairs.”

  I remained silent, batting my eyes once, as slowly and suggestively as possible.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed before he turned and led his advisors out of the corridor. Will sent me a fleeting, conspiratorial glance before disappearing with them. Logan took a step toward me, and I turned to meet his eyes.

  “Academy Award winner, Roam Camden,” he murmured. “Looks like I’m on guard duty.”

  “You’ve been guarding me for too long, Logan,” I said, morose. “I need to take care of myself.”

  “You know, if we were home…you’d be almost nineteen… if my math is correct. But then again, you’ve always helped me with math, so…,”

  I backed to a bench along the stone wall, sinking slowly. “No…,”

  “Don’t worry, Cam. You don’t look a day over seventeen.” He sat beside me, and I buried my face in my hands. “It’s been almost two years for them. Do you think she… moved on?”

  I turned to him. “Violet?”

  “Any of them.”

  I thought of West and Laurel, as I did during my darkest hours. She was older, so beautiful, and he had loved her… How long would he search for a way back to me before giving up?

  “Do you think West would do that? Move on?”

  “Troy sent him your ring and letter for Eva… and included one of his own.”

  “What?” I never considered the possibility that Troy would goad him. I should never have asked him to send anything.

  “He bragged about it to his men. West knows that you’re pregnant.”

  I sat in devastated silence, staring at the guards. Let them hear. I don’t care.

  “At least Troy will leave you alone for a while,” Logan pointed out, standing. “His men have made comments about you… that have angered him. That’s probably why he set me as your guard.”

  I shivered, widening my eyes. “Are they threatening me?”

  Logan lowered his voice. “Men talk. They can be… graphic. They have learned to be careful what they say about you, around me or Troy.”

  Turning, I looked out the floor-to-ceiling window. “A storm is coming.” I said, my flat words visibly chilling to Logan.

  He nodded, and then locked my eyes in his. “Yes, it is.” His pointed words evenly communicated his double meaning.

  My voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s getting very comfortable.”

  Logan stood formally, turning to me to drop into a low bow. Before he raised his head, he smirked at me. “Perfect time to go all Kill Bill on his ass, Cam.”

  I smiled, a tiny grappling of anticipation scurrying over my backbone.

  Chapter Six

  With Logan as my guard and Troy gone, I felt safe for the first time in almost three months.

  During dinner in the great hall, I sat in the center of the head table, with Will in Troy’s seat during his absence. Halfway through the meal, Will turned to me, gesturing to my plate.

  “What exactly do you eat?”

  Waiters had served a third course, and my plate remained untouched as I pushed at the grilled asparagus. “I… have no appetite.”

  “I mean, in your world. Microwave meals? McDonalds?”

  I grinned, quirking my head at him. “How do you know about McDonalds?”

  “My father told me many stories about the other world. Once, he brought me Chicken McNuggets.”

  I tried to picture Troy killing me, and then packing up and heading home, first stopping at McDonalds for a Happy Meal for his young son. Giving him an dubious look, I tilted my head.

  “And?” I encouraged.

  He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, sighing exaggeratedly. “A small piece of heaven.”

  Laughing, I drew the attention of many of the hooded guards and members of the court. Have I not laughed in three months?

  “And what do you do for recreation?”

  I took a sip of water. “I read… I learn about history… or swim. I’m a good swimmer,” I admitted. “I would like to learn… fencing.”

  He raised his dark eyebrows. “Fencing? I could teach you.”

  “I would really like that. After dinner?”

  He laughed, sitting back in his chair to stretch out his long legs. “Persistent.”

  “Bored is more precise.”

  “But, my queen, you have a masque to plan.”

  “Dear kingdom, come to the party. Wear a costume. Kitchen, make food. Really, how hard is it?”

  “Entertainment? Will there be dancing?”

  I thought of my dream, dancing in this very hall with West. “Are there… bands here? A DJ?”

  “We have generations of music from your world, and our own music. I will help you,” he promised, his eyes twinkling with enjoyment.

  “Thanks,” I looked down, an unexpected flush creeping up my neck.

  He watched me carefully, reaching for his glass. “It is too bad that you do not belong here. You look… like you do.” He nodded at my high-backed chair reserved for the queen. “And despite the insult my father gave you this afternoon, you are very intelligent with excellent ideas. Your notion to add the addendum to the treaty about the crude oil…,”

  “Troy gave me credit for that?” I asked, stunned.

  “He did.”

  I bit my bottom lip. “I wanted to tell you… that I’m sorry for kicking you. I was afraid,” I added.

  “I am sorry for frightening you.”

  My stomach rumbled with a pang of hunger. I haven’t been nauseated all day, I realized thankfully. “Maybe I’ll eat a little.”

  “Good.”

  “How old are you?” I asked bluntly, and he grinned again.

  “When I stopped aging? Twenty-seven. Years since my birth? Sixty-eight.”

  He’s immortal as well? Are all children of immortals then immortal themselves?

  “You are immortal?”

  Surprise caught his expression, and he nodded slowly. “Roam, immortal men produce immortal children. Just as the male determines the sex of the child, he also determines the mortality. I assumed you knew.” When I thought of the unborn child in my womb, I sat back in awe. “Am I impolite to ask your age?”

  My eyebrows pulled together, and I shrugged. “I really don’t know. Here, seventeen… indefinitely. There, nineteen.”

  His mouth closed, and he looked dow
n in disgust. Sitting back in his chair, he carefully set his fork on his plate. “I am sorry. I hate my father.”

  His words, barely audible in the loud hall, nearly moved me to tears. I reached for his other hand, under the table. He looked up in surprise.

  “I’m sorry for the childhood that you must have had.”

  A hardness flashed in his eyes, but his voice softened as he pointed at my plate.

  “Please, eat. Do not let him ruin your smile.”

  I smiled to answer him, squeezing his hand once before letting it go.

  The evening festivities wore on, and I realized there was, indeed, music. There were no singers, but I recognized several classical pieces that the musicians played. Will explained that his father brought music over from my world, as well as new instruments.

  I watched the dancers execute perfect steps, very careful in the traditional lines and turns characteristic of a time long ago.

  When Will slid his chair back and offered his hand, I shook my head.

  “No… I’m sorry, I don’t know how to dance to this.”

  “Well, then, show me how you dance,” he persuaded, clasping my hand. I stood as he pulled me to the floor.

  “No,” I repeated, searching the hall for Logan. There were too many people, and the lights were dimmed after dinner casting shadows over faces

  “Here,” he raised my hand in his, and tucked his other hand at my side. “A waltz.”

  His unfamiliar touch stole the strength from my legs. I backed away, my mind on the razor in the bathroom.

  “I’ve never waltzed, either,” I skimmed his hand away from my waist, shaking my head. “I… no, I can’t,” I turned and rushed from the hall, almost to the stairs when he caught up with me. Logan and the other guard were at my side in moments, and I realized they were watching me during the entire dinner.

  “I’m sorry, your majesty,” Will stopped short, glancing once at Logan before turning back to me. “I didn’t mean…,”

  “I hate it here,” I managed to keep the tears from coming, coldness creeping over my body. “I can’t even try to enjoy myself. Please, just… thank you for the conversation at dinner,” I turned, climbing the stairs with Logan behind me. The other soldier turned toward two men scuffling in the inner court.

  At the bedroom, two armed guards bordered the doorway. I sighed, pushing past them. Logan followed me inside, turning to one soldier. “I need to speak to her about her maid.”

  “Ten minutes,” the guard responded, and I realized that Logan did not have nearly as much freedom as I believed he did.

  “What maid?” I pulled at the crystal earrings in my ears before turning on a light, the thick posts irritating my skin. “Logan?”

  He closed the door softly, locking the bolt. I searched for the lamp, but he caught my hands before I could turn it on.

  “Cam, sit down.”

  I moved to the edge of the bed, lifting my eyes to his. “What’s wrong?”

  “Helena was executed this morning.”

  I exhaled quickly, gripping the ebony post. He knelt before me as I gasped for air.

  “I’m always the one giving you fucking bad news,” he growled, gathering me into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

  “He did this,” I cried, pressing my face to his shoulder. Even here, he smelled so familiar, and I moved my nose closer to the skin of his neck. “Logan, I hate him, I hate him.”

  “He’s going to suffer for all that he’s done.”

  “I can’t wait any more,” I choked, my entire body shaking. “I can’t let him… do this to me… these things… every night…,”

  “Roam,” he pulled my face away from his shoulder, holding my cheeks in his palms. I gripped his forearms, searching his deep, brown eyes.

  What’s happening to me?

  “You’re always saving me,” I lamented, tugging at his wide sleeves. “You have never stopped protecting me. Thank you for staying,” I slid my hands into his thick curls and hugged him with all of my strength. “You’re my best friend in… every world.”

  “Roam,” he groaned, brushing my hair away from my eyes. “I will protect you until the day I die... or the day I can get you back to him.”

  “I miss him,” I screamed from the inside out, grasping at the rough material of his surcoat.

  “Listen... Cam, listen,” he held my face in his hands securely. “Once you two are back together, and we’re through with our marathon therapy sessions and find just the right dose of Zoloft, we’re going to look back on this like the nightmare it was- horrible, but over. I promise you.”

  I sat up, sniffing, looking down at him on the bed. “Do you still have the nightmares?”

  He closed his eyes tiredly. “Every night.”

  “Have you ever tried to control them? Change the outcome? I’ve done it a few times.”

  Logan reached up, gathering my long hair in his hand. “I don’t want to change the outcome. That’s why they are so terrible.”

  A sharp pounding at the door interrupted his words. He sat up quickly, hugging me. “I have to go.”

  “Logan, is Will going to help us? Should we trust him?”

  He glanced at the wall, and then back at me. “I have to trust him. I have to get you out of here.”

  His unspoken words hung in the air as if he’d shouted them.

  Since West hasn’t come for you.

  Straightening his uniform, he hurried out the door as two new maids rushed in to help me undress.

  The various stages of healing cuts on my hips and thighs, if noticed by my maids, were ignored as they dressed me. Helena had seen them and I had simply shrugged, allowing her to think that Troy was cutting me each night.

  Had she confronted him? Is that why he had her executed? Or was it the diamond?

  I tossed and turned for hours, jumping at every noise. After realizing that I was uncomfortable without Troy next to me, I ran to the bathroom, reaching for my blade. This time, I chose my inner forearm again, knowing I’d have plenty of time for the cut to heal before Troy returned.

  After cutting twice, I held the toilet paper over the blood, staring at my knees. My abdomen was less rounded than last time at only eleven weeks, and I slid my fingers over my bare skin, longing to somehow tell West that it was his baby I carried.

  The bringer of the sun.

  Thunder began in the distance, muffled by the stone walls. As the storm approached, lightening streaked across the sky. I pulled my long, white robe over my thin nightgown, hurrying to the door.

  The cloaked guards at my chamber turned to me, and I covered my stomach. With their faces sheathed in the black cloth, they assumed a wraith-like appearance in the stone hallway. I took a deep breath, careful not to let them scare me. “I’m restless. I just need to walk.”

  “Yes, your majesty.”

  I followed the dark corridor, the castle utterly silent in the middle of the night. Once I reached the stairwell, I narrowed my eyes and turned back toward my room. I don’t want to wander the castle with these two.

  The guards resumed their position as I locked the door from the inside.

  Once I turned, my half-cry was stifled as a hand slid around my mouth. Warm breath touched my ear. “Don’t scream Cam, it’s me.”

  “Logan,” I turned to him, wrapping my arms around him.

  “Shh… just get in bed, I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

  “How did you know I couldn’t sleep?” Thunder shook the pane of glass in the window, and I jolted in his arms.

  “You’ve always been afraid of thunder. It’s even louder here.”

  His fingers slid over my arms, and I stiffened as they brushed past the cuts. He lifted my arm, lightening flashing in the window and illuminating the deep, red slices in my skin. “Logan…”

  “What- is he cutting you? Jesus,” he turned my other arm, and then reached for my neck. I backed away, shaking my head.

  “No, stop. He’s not hurting me.”

  “I will
fucking kill him. He told me he wouldn’t hurt you!”

  “He’s not,” I repeated, glancing at the bathroom my breath quickened. “I… let this happen. I… wanted it.” Ashamed, I pressed my forehead to his chest, gripping his upper arms with all of my strength.

  He sighed, scooping me into his arms and carrying me to the bed.

  I crawled under the covers, and he slipped in and backed against me, smoothing my hair as he did so often before. “Sleep. Maybe we’ll dream together again.”

  “Not the King Cone. Anywhere but there.”

  He smiled against my hair. “How about… Cedar Point?” He asked, the amusement park sparking homey memories that made me smile into the darkness.

  “Or our spot at the lake. Toes in the sand.”

  “The fence in my backyard,” he murmured, and I caught my breath as his hand slid over my waist. “Or the Indian’s game,” he stopped exploring, finding my fingers and lacing his with mine.

  “My bedroom.”

  “The back seat of my Camry.”

  “Logan, nothing happened back there and you know it.”

  “It almost happened.”

  “But it didn’t.”

  “Because I was honorable.”

  “You were just as nervous as I was,” I pointed, remembering when he’d first gotten the Camry and taken us to a park after sunset. “And you were afraid the cops were going to haul us in and call our parents.”

  “Maybe,” he conceded. “But I got your shirt off.”

  “Up, not off, and for less than ten seconds.”

  “Up, off, what’s the difference.”

  “I don’t want you to move,” I backed against him, and he stiffened. “I miss you so much. You’re like home.”

  “Shh. Just go to sleep.”

  Closing my eyes, I finally gave in.

  The cell reeks of urine.

  I press my heavy sleeve to my nose, cringing as the man walks to the bars, his dark, blue eyes tormented. “My sweet child.”

  “Father,” West moves next to me, his sword drawn and stained with blood. “Tell me what you need. I will get it for you.”

  “Your arm,” he reaches for me, and I extend my left arm through the bars of the cell. His filthy fingers slide my sleeve up, and his hand curls on my skin. “I will save you, my beautiful girl, and my grandchild.”