strangely empty, and brought his hands up to cup her face.
Her scent covered his hands, marking him, and it pleased her in some
indefinable way.
He pressed his lips to hers in
a brief, chaste kiss. Bianca clung to his neck, desperate for more, for a
deeper connection to him, willing him to open his soul to her. If he would
just allow her in, she could heal him, she knew. She cupped an arm around the
base of his neck, keeping him close when he would have pulled away. Willing
her power to heal him, she tasted his lips with her tongue, hoping this time it
would work if she prayed enough, wished enough.
Nothing happened. Her eyes
watered as he pulled away. She’d failed again. No matter how much she wanted
it, she could not help him.
His eyes grew dark, angry,
and she knew he thought the worst, that he thought she hated him for touching
her like this.
He scooped her into his arms
and carried her across the floor, away from the glass. He set her on her feet,
and without a word, left her.
She stared after him. She
did hate him. With a passion. But she could never tell him why.
Chapter Six
As much as Bianca hated to
admit it, there was no future for her at Helmskeep. She could forgive Damian
for being determined to find a cure, and she could forgive him for being
selfish in locking her away. She could not forgive herself for allowing him to
have hope. To dangle the promise before him was abominable, and she couldn’t
live with the guilt. He surrounded her here, this castle, his lands, the
whisper of his voice as he spoke to himself in the library--the constant
reminder would slowly eat her alive.
She had to get out, if only
to grant them both peace.
She’d unintentionally hurt
him last night and had made no effort to dissuade the turn of his thoughts. It
was better that way, she felt, for his anger at her would allow him to easily
forget her.
There was no comfort for her
in the thought. Only to think of him passing the years away with no memory of
her hurt her inside.
Bianca didn’t know what
horrid deeds he’d performed long ago, but she would pray for his soul on her
return to Raedan. There could be no deed so horrible as to justify a penance
that lasted an eternity.
The hour was early when she
went outside to roam the withered orchard behind the castle. A fog coated the
ground like gauze, chilling her feet as she walked among the ancient, twisted
trees that no longer bore fruit. She could see her breath in the cool, crisp
air, and she hugged her arms around her chest.
Nothing lived here, almost as
though perpetual winter encased the land. The only life she saw were a few
birds wheeling in the sky. And they were so few in number as to be
depressing. It was almost as if what infected him also diseased the land. She
was saddened by it, for she could see Helmskeep had once been a jewel. Now it
was dead and decaying. How long had it been like this, unkempt, ruined and
empty?
As long as she walked, she
could see no way out other than to scale the wall surrounding Helmskeep. The
stone facade stood high, at least as tall as two great men, and likely taller,
for she could not judge the distance it was so high above her head.
On the interior, no trees
reached close enough that she could cross their branches and bound over the
wall. Even if there had been, she had no way of getting down the other side
other than jumping, or possibly using the vines that covered the outside. She
would break something, of that, she was certain. The castle was meant to keep
others out, but was just as effective at keeping her inside.
She would have to examine
more of the grounds later, lest she arouse his suspicion staying out too long.
As she walked back and passed the tower, she caught the flutter of wings
overhead and looked up, just as the bird struck the uppermost window of the
tower.
Her hands flew