~ Until Eternity ~

by

Tricia McGill

"This is Brys." Anstred broke the spell that seemed to have wound itself about him and the woman rose gracefully. Barely hesitating, she walked towards him, a slender hand outstretched.

Brys’ gaze roamed over her high cheekbones and perfectly shaped nose and then dropped lower to linger. Her obviously unfettered breasts rose and fell rapidly beneath their soft covering. Her face was pale. He guessed she was frightened, but concealing it well behind a shield of arrogance as her chin went high. Her tentative smile aroused such a strong blast of desire in him that his heartbeat immediately accelerated.

As he took her slender white fingers in his hand, a muscle jerked in his jaw. Searching a mind gone blank for something sensible to say, it hit him--this was why he’d been brought here. Haesal had called to him through time and he’d heeded her summons.

Her wide clear eyes reminded him of pansies, and her sweet mouth was made for kissing. Her facial bones were delicate, her ivory skin peachy smooth.

~ * ~

Haesal offered her hand and stared at this man who had appeared as if from nowhere. She trembled inside, but made a supreme effort to conceal this fear. After her treatment at the hands of the evil Garth, she was not about to trust any man again, and this one certainly had a strange look about him. It was not simply his shaven jaw that distinguished him from all the other men she knew, no, he had an air about him that was totally foreign.

Her father had often likened her to a young horse, for her legs were longer than most young girls, but she had to lift her head to look up to this man with hair as black as the wings of a raven. He was well muscled and certainly looked fit enough to fight a bull. But his eyes, as they went over her in detail, were as soft as a meadow flower, yet so dark. Those eyes seemed to be searching to her secret self, as if they would see into her thoughts. His proud bearing as he faced her made her knees begin to weaken, and she could feel heat rushing to her face. She put a hand to her throat, but it was a feeble gesture of protection.

His nearness made her tremble, and she had to fight a desire to hide her hands behind her back. Those night dark eyes were very grave as they studied her. At their corners small lines ran out and, as he smiled, the lines crinkled. Up close she could see every one of his thick eyelashes, every small dent in his skin--skin which was very clear for a man, although not weather roughened, much darker than her own.

He was beardless, but the dark shadow on his jaw gave him a very manly aura. His firm and generous mouth had a curve to it, as if on the edge of laughter. It was a kindly mouth, and parted to show a display of even white teeth that contrasted pleasantly with the light brown skin. There was a certain animal wildness about him. Haesal shivered at the force of the vital power that seemed to surround her. Or was it the unusual smell of him, exuding masculinity that made her wary?

"He rescued your brother and the others, and now he will set you free." Anstred placed the stranger’s hands and hers together and Haesal tried to hide her reaction to the clasp of his warm fingers, which tightened as his eyes narrowed. A small vein throbbed in his throat. He was so tall, as straight as a tree, with powerful shoulders. His hands were big and strong, the fingers square, the nails short and clean. Beautiful hands. His face bore an inherent strength and he carried himself with a commanding air that frightened her. But not for the world would she show this fear.

~ * ~

Brys clasped his dream woman’s fingers and felt a quiver run through them. Was it fear she felt or had she recognized him as he’d recognized her? Her fingers were strong, but slim, her wrists delicate. She had a seductive young body--the belt at her waist defining its narrowness -- the slim waist flaring into nicely rounded hips.

"And this is our Lady Haesal," Anstred said while Brys and Haesal continued to gaze at each other in silence.

"I bid you welcome."

Brys noticed the slight quiver in her voice, so let her go, when with a small tug she freed the hand he only then realized he’d been clutching. She tilted the golden eyebrows that met above the bridge of her nose as she regarded him. The set of her chin suggested a stubborn streak.

There was an untouched air about her, yet at the same time she exuded an intriguing passion and charisma. Coming to his shoulder, she was taller than he’d imagined her to be in his dreams and only had to tilt her head slightly to look full into his face. Her figure curved in all the right places and was impressively regal. Her features were so beautiful he felt himself drowning as she continued to look him over.

"Ginald, my beloved brother!" She spread her arms as the young man went to her. Tears made her eyes dewy as she embraced him, while still watching Brys over the boy’s shoulder. Ginald struggled free, his cheeks reddening as he pushed at her arms.

"Thank you from the bottom of my heart for rescuing him," she said sincerely, and Brys felt heat running up his own cheeks.

"This may sound hard to grasp but I think I’m in a dream and I’ve come through time to answer your call." He felt like a fool for making that admission. Her frown told him she was as puzzled as he. "I’m here to help you and yours."

What the hell was he doing making such farfetched claims? Still, she appeared to accept this explanation, for she gave a small grave nod.

Haesal chewed on her bottom lip. Her father had always taught her all things in this life were possible. But the words of the stranger made her suspicious nonetheless. If he had been brought here to answer a call, it certainly had not been one made by her. It was not difficult to believe he had been summoned, for had she not always believed in the powers that were far greater than any human spirit?

But believing it did nothing to stop the surge of fear sweeping through her. This strange man had an air of authority, his head held high and proud. Those eyes regarded her with a kind of liquid warmth she had never encountered before in her life.

Haesal felt strange as he continued to stare at her as if she was a sprite. He made her feel timid--like a dove caught in the claw of a hawk, which was not like her at all.

Somewhere deep inside a sensation began to creep up through her body. It scared her, made her heart beat faster, her skin quiver. Had she met this man before? He seemed familiar, as if she had memories of him stored deep in her mind that she couldn’t quite recall. He watched her as if expecting some sign of recognition. Could she have known him in another life? That thought brought fresh tremors and would be best pushed to the back of her mind.

She had to keep her thoughts on the practical side of things. "Garth is at his table. We must flee before he realizes we are free." She smiled at Ginald and her relief at seeing him safe made her feel weak. The fear that Garth might have already slain him had overtaken all worries for her own safety.

"First Brys must slay the monster," Anstred said.

Haesal glanced warily at Brys. This man was certainly tough and the masculine aura about him inspired confidence. Indeed, he looked brave enough to fight a gladiator. Yet something about his expression, and that humorous and kindly mouth of his, told her he was not quite up to facing a foe such as Garth.

Brys looked at the crone. Her beady eyes were going back and forth between him and Haesal and Brys suspected she was fully aware of his attraction to Haesal, and the effect it was having on him.

"If he is left alive, he will merely follow you to the ends of the earth, for he would never let you go so easily," she said. "The evil in him would not let anyone hinder his plans. If he found you, he would surely kill you both next time."

"You are right." Haesal was twisting her fingers together. "But he is so evil, and so sure of himself that I fear for anyone who tries to go against him. He has threatened me constantly with the torture of Ginald if I do not obey him. I am fearful of what tricks he will produce. You will need all your wits about you if you are to overthrow him."

Brys was touched by her concern. "I have a few tricks of my own." He touched the dagger stuck down his belt. "This fellow has helped me so far in our quest. It will not let us down now," he assured her and offered the talisman for her examination.

A sweet hot flame shot through him as she bent over the pendant and her scent filled his nostrils. Hers was a natural fragrant essence of female that no amount of perfume or pampering could achieve.

Her crown of hair shone and he itched to touch it, to run his hands through its rich strands as he’d often done in his dreams. Such was the longing that he had to clench his fists for fear of frightening her with his eagerness. Her face was exquisite--she was the most entrancing creature he’d ever had the good fortune to set eyes on.

She blushed prettily. "I hope that it will not let you down." Did she recognize the attraction that had flared between them? "I would not want you harmed in our defense." Her voice had gone husky, sending his heart into overdrive. Perhaps she saw the desire flare in his eyes, for she averted her gaze.

Unable to resist the compelling urge to touch her, he put a finger softly to her cheek. "And I think you need not fear for my safety. I feel it’s my destiny to fulfill the task I’ve obviously been brought here for. I doubt I’ll have any say in how it turns out. It warms my heart to have you worrying about my safekeeping, though."

Brys didn’t miss the small expression of distaste that flashed across her lovely eyes in the second before she removed herself from his range. He grimaced down at his hands. He had bloodstains on his skin. Wiping them down his sides, he gave her an apologetic smile. A deeper pink tinge settled across her cheekbones. "Sorry."

"For what?" She gave him a small smile, too. Her eyes were so clear that he couldn’t seem to drag his away from their startling softness.

Haesal began to tremble. Since the day Garth had captured her and her people she had lived in terror. But this trembling was brought on by an entirely different fear. His smile, which made a dent appear in each cheek and also in his chin, sent her heart racing.