Free Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) by Caroline Greyling

this strangely intimate exchange. I yank down
the hem of my shirt, cheeks blazing.
    ‘Shaylee,’ Nan says, breaking into a pleased smile. ‘This
is Tristan. Your betrothed.’

 
    ‘Excuse me?’ Nan’s words are like ice on my skin, dulling
any lingering warmth from Prince Charming’s fingertips. I’ve heard wrong again.
She couldn’t have said ‘betrothed’. The very word itself is archaic and
couldn’t possibly have any place in this day and age, let alone in my teenage
life.
    ‘Tristan is your fiancé, Shaylee,’ Nan repeats. ‘You
have been blood promised.’
    My gaze shoots from Nan’s serious expression to the man
in front of me who has suddenly lost the irresistible appeal of moments ago.
The room moves again and I feel a hard knot of nausea at the base of my throat.  
    ‘This is a joke, right?’ I say, trying to focus on Nan’s
hazy features.
    She looks a little uncertain for a split second and her
eyes flit from me to Tristan , but she
gives her head a tiny shake.
    ‘Give him a chance Bluebell, within a few days you’ll be
hopelessly in love with him just like your mom and dad.’ I jerk at the
revelation but Nan doesn’t seem to notice. ‘You are the chosen one. You will be
married to Tristan and fulfill the prophecy. Your virgin’s blood will bring
power and immortality once again to our kind.’
      Just like mom and
dad? In love in a few days? Immortality? Virgin’s
blood ?
    ‘Prophecy?’ I say, ‘I don’t know what on earth you’re
talking about Nan, but I will not be
marrying anyone. I mean – it’s just ridiculous. I don’t even know this man.’ My
heart is racing now and the room is not just tilting on its axis anymore, it’s
doing full sun-rotations.
    ‘Calm down Shaylee,’ Nan says, giving me a funny look, ‘you’re
over-reacting -’
    ‘Over-reacting?’ I’m gesturing wildly now and my voice
is high-pitched and fast, but I can’t seem to stop myself. ‘I’m seventeen! How
can I – get – married - I’m - not…I’m – not…’ My mind has switched from flashing
red lights to drifting and I’m suddenly gasping for breath. I can barely make
out Nan’s face anymore, let alone form a coherent thought.    
    ‘Shaylee!’ Nan says. Her voice sounds alarmed but
distant as the room starts to spin violently. There is a low buzzing in my ears
and then nothing…

 
    When I wake, it is to the feel of strong arms around me,
a chest that pillows my cheek and a heart that beats a steady rhythm against my
ear. He smells different from the
Prince Charming whose fingers feel like sunlight on my skin. This savior smells
like my favorite place beneath the old oak tree. I turn my face into his chest
and take a deep breath; of rain, dirt, mint, musk and life.      
    If I open my eyes , he will put me down. I’ll have to stand on my own two feet and face
the mortifying fact that I just fainted in front of bunch of strangers. If I open my eyes , I’ll meet my
savior.  
    The gentle cadence of his gait changes, my knight
adjusts his grip around my knees and back, and lowers himself down onto
something. As he settles me into his lap, my wrist brushes against his and a
stream of electricity races from his skin into mine.
    We both inhale sharply and my eyes flash open and lock
on his. We stare at each other in shock, unaware of anything but the sparks
that seem to be charging the air between us. My right wrist is hot and
throbbing and I know he feels this too, because he quickly slips his hand out from
mine and gives it a little shake, like he’s been electrocuted.
    The heat dulls with the loss of contact, but continues
to hum along my veins in a quiet melody. Neither of us speaks and a strange, gooey
warmth fills me as I look into his striking eyes. It’s not the hue of the
green-grey irises that rivet me, but rather the storm that seems to brew in
them. If the eyes are truly windows to the soul, this boy’s soul is haunted.
    My knight speaks, his mint-musk scented