Chapter 3

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.