Clarissa’s
Clarissa glared at the offensive man, who called himself a hero! He had even mocked her with that bow, knowing she was of lower status. Why did this man have to be so… so… uggh!
When he stepped closer to her, the heat of his body radiated into her skin. The feel of his calm, seasoned warmth had promised the delights of an experienced lover. She did not quite understand what that entailed, but she was not ready for her own body’s reaction to it. His eyes sparkled knowingly, and THAT frustrated her.
He was two feet taller than her. Tight muscles covered his lean body, hidden only slightly by the loose clothing. His short brown hair was even messier than usual.
The skin on his face spoke of royalty and comforts she had never known. His eyes were black in the dark of the night, but they always seemed to glow with such intensity, even in the dark.
Once released, she stated coldly. “I am going home.”
She turned away and started to walk off. But he followed quickly on her heels. What was he doing? She stopped suddenly, and he walked into the back of her. The warmth of his body once again tingled her skin. She shook it off as he stepped back.
“What are you doing?” Clarissa demanded.
“Well, I am sorry, my lady.” He replied. The twinkle in his eyes was so infuriating. “I did not expect you to stop walking so abruptly. But I believe it is obvious that I am seeing you home safely.” He indicated the direction that she was walking.
“No, you will not.” She whipped her voice out, hoping to strike him with it.
His smile grew more amused, and she growled with frustration. “You can either walk with me, or I can follow you. But I will see you home safely. So walk.”
She grumbled, not really forming the words as she moved forward. But she knew that the argument was pointless. Plus, somewhere deep inside, she admitted she was glad not to have to walk it alone. Soon they grew quiet as the silence of the night stretched between them.
After some time, Stefan spoke with a voice full of confidence, but his words said otherwise. ”Clarissa,” her hair stood on end as she heard him speak her name for the first time. “I get the impression that you do not like me so much. What have I done?”
She shook her head, not sure what to make of the question. If he did not sound so full of himself, she would think the question genuine. She opened her mouth to say something. But couldn’t quite put the feelings into words. She closed her mouth and shrugged.
His laughter did nothing to improve her mood. “Why not give me a try.” He suggested, and the tone of voice suggested things that brought butterflies to her stomach. What did THAT mean?
“A lady does not simply try a…” She waved a hand at him, “whatever you are.” Her tone was dismissive.
He chuckled and nodded his head. “That may be true, princess.”
The word princess rolled off his tongue. There he goes with the sarcastic name-calling again, Clarissa groaned to herself.
“But if we are to wed, we will need to at least get along.” He finished.
He pushed her with his upper arm, causing her to misstep over a rock. Her heel landed wrong, and she fought back the tears as a little gasp escaped her throat.
“Are you ok?” Stefan asked, concerned.
“Yeah, fine.” She stated flippantly.
She would not show him weakness. Although when she stepped on that foot again, sharp heat shot up her leg. She hoped they were closer to her house than she thought. Then, she could get rid of this guy and apologize to her mother before going to bed.
She looked up to see her wonderful home, the farmhouse, rising in the distance as they continued walking silently. Stefan stood at the end of the driveway. She could feel his emotions and thoughts swirling within him like a hurricane.
“Thanks, and good night.” She said as she stepped towards her house, intending to leave him there.
Her mother left the front door slightly open in anticipation of her arrival home. But Stefan swiftly grabbed her wrist and spun her gracefully towards him. She grimaced around the discomfort in her ankle.
“Let’s say a proper goodnight. After all, I am your hero tonight.” His voice was husky and rumbled with desire.
She tried to pull her wrist free, but he did not let go. Instead, he stepped up to her, his body lightly pressed against hers again. The heat of his body matched the intensity of his eyes, and she could do little more than stammer.
“It’s… past my bedtime.” She heard her voice as if it were miles away. His eyes stared deeply into hers, and she met them silently. “My mom will see us out here.” She tried to excuse herself.
He leaned forward, his face inches from hers. He smelled masculine and somehow sweet. It tempted her to discover what that smell tasted like. She shivered as he ran a hand down her back.
“You will be my wife.” He murmured, ignoring what she had said. Or was it in reference to it?
She shook her head slowly, unable to turn away from the fire in his eyes.
“I do not wish to be a wife.” She whispered softly, her words escaping with her breath.
His smile spoke of sudden understanding. What spell did he have her under?
“You will not simply be a wife…” He promised, his voice deep with lust. “You will have more than you ever dreamed when standing with me at my side.”
Her eyes widened. What did he say? Had he really just insinuated that she couldn’t accomplish her own dreams? Or was he saying that she dreamed about being by his side?
Either way, it was rude and caused her temper to flare. She struck him across the face, leaving a red mark. Either way, it was unacceptable. She stormed off toward her parent’s house.
Stefan
The moment was over like that, leaving Stefan speechless and confused. One minute he was promising to deliver her dreams to her once they were married. The next, he was standing there alone, dazed, with a hand pressed against the sting that her hand had left behind.
He watched the spicy little vixen for a moment before dropping his hand to his side and rushing after her. She had so much fire! She would rule well next to him. They could take the planet if they wanted, or they could disappear into his kingdom and have one on one fun for all eternity. All he knew was that he had to have her.
He knew it was risky not announcing his lineage or position in the faraway courts of Nestelbaum, but he had not wanted to be tied down. He did not want people flocking toward him and covering him with false compliments or promises of alliances.
The only people that knew about him were the knights he had arrived with. His father, who was also the king, said Stefan, his only heir, could go as long as Stefan promised to wed upon his return. When he met Clarissa, Stefan knew that she was the bride meant to be his.
He went to grab her arm to stop her from walking away. But as he approached her, the hair on the back of his neck stood up in quiet warning. He did grab her again, harder than he intended. She ripped her arm out of his hand.
“No!” She said sternly.
But when she saw the expression on his face, she paused. He was looking up at the house. The scent of blood carried from inside, and the front door had been left open.
There was another smell, too. It was familiar and pungent. It had been a long time since he had smelled it and could not quite place it.
“Let me go first.” He whispered, edging towards the house. He slowly pulled an arrow out of the quiver.
“What is it?” She whispered, following him. He would have told her to wait here, but he knew she would not listen. This was her home, after all.
Upon entering the abandoned house, his alert eyes darted between the doorways. The smell of blood led him up the stairs instead. He checked to make sure Clarissa was right behind him.
Clarissa Clarissa’s mother normally kept their home spotless and excellently cared for. But it wasn’t right now. Smashed furniture, broken wood, and trash blocked the front door. A couple of flickering candles lit the main stairway. But the house was bizarrely dark. Most of the usually lit candles were knocked over. Clarissa carefully stepped over the debris as she entered the house behind Stefan. She gasped as her heart sped up in her chest. Her wide eyes took in the wanton destruction. Stefan was stealthily headed up the stairs. She followed him tentatively, unsure if she wanted to see what was there. What had happened here? Mom and Dad had been here during this? A sinking feeling pressed its way into he
Stefan Stefan broke records in his flight up the stairs. But as he turned to look into the room he left Clarissa in, she aimed a beam of life energy at the accursed werecat. Why were there werecats this far west? He was amazed at her power in devouring the cat with her life energy. It looked like it was on fire, but the light was bright and flawless white. Ashes flew away, glittering like metal. He saw the second cat as it approached her. He rushed to help her. But by the time Stefan entered the room, it was no longer alive. Stefan quickly took in his surroundings. She missed an enemy. Stefan stepped in the way of the last cat, as Clarissa fell on the floo
Clarissa She blinked and looked around her mother’s bedroom. How did she end up here? What was going on? Her memory was in fragments. She remembered the blood and imminent danger. She sat on the edge of the bed before pushing herself to her feet. They were bare, which did not make any sense. She saw that she was wearing her favorite cotton nightgown when she looked down. It didn’t seem real. In the hall, she stumbled forward as a flashback of blood on the wall blinded her. She reached for that same wall, but there was no blood. Was it just a dream? She stepped into her room, and a flood of memories caused her to stagger to her knees. But there was no evidence of the horror she remembered. Maybe it was just a dream. Everyone was alright.
Stefan Stefan spoke with Clarissa, comforting her. He understood how hard it could be to lose a loved one. When he reported deaths to his soldier’s families, the wails could be heard miles away. Reporting the deaths was technically his subordinate's job, but he felt duty bound to these families. The pain he witnessed and the sorrow that filled him as commanding officer was nothing compared to what it was like being a friend. It wasn’t something he was familiar with. He wasn’t sure if he was helping. But soon, she lay back to go to sleep. Her eyes drifted close slowly and he ran a gentle thumb over her soft cheek. She looked peaceful as he shut the bedroom door and headed back downstairs.
Clarissa When Clarissa woke in the morning, she felt much stronger than she had the day before. She could not rescue her mother if she were lying in bed, right? She stood up and looked out the window. The sun was starting to wink at her from beyond the mountains. She got up and went to the bathroom, where she cleaned up and readied for the day. She dressed in a simple brown cotton dress- her best traveling attire. As soon as she left the bathroom, she headed to the front door. She was determined to get her mom back and she would have to start in town. She could find some supplies and maybe a party to travel with there. Perhaps she could arrange a hunting party to find the rogue werecats and bring them to justice. As her hand landed
Clarissa Clarissa’s only response to Stefan’s statement was a sigh. There was no point in arguing it right now. But she had no intention of getting married on their return. His dreams seemed a little lofty to her. But what mattered right now was bringing her mother home safely. They could sort the rest out later. “Well then, we better be on our way.” She said and turned away from him. It was difficult to move out of the warmth of his presence but if she stayed like that much longer, she doubted she would be able to move away at all. He was captivating her. As she stepped away, the white haired girl came floating into the room. She moved so agile and quietly that Clarissa didn’t see her right aw
Arcadia whisked her away as soon as they got to town. Clarissa barely caught a glimpse of the guys headed in different directions as she was swept into a tailor shop. Arcadia took a look around the room. “Since you will be on the road,” She didn’t finish the sentence as she ran her fingers over the different cloth. A female shopkeeper came up to them. Clarissa knew her as Mrs. Thompson. She was a kind older lady who did most of the stitches on the clothes in her shop. Yet, the shop remained in her husband’s name, which didn’t bother her. She worked to provide for her family. She was short and skinny, with brown curly hair tied in a bun behind her face. Her eyes skimmed over Clarissa momentarily. But she had served Arcadia before and had been p
Arcadia Arcadia groaned as Clarissa ran out of the tent. “Why are you stressing, mija.” The low soft sound of her wolf, Ragnavard, growled in the back of her mind. Ragnavard was patrolling the perimeter on the outskirts of town. He was her secret weapon. They had bonded when she was a child. But it wasn’t the same thing as the Onyx Sage bonds. The purpose of those animals’ birth was to be the sage’s spirit animal. Her wolf was born before they created their attachment. Through the mind link, she comforted her wolf companion. “Clarissa may be more of a princess than we realized.” She mused.