The Stargazer

Stargazer (chapter two)

Rowan stared at the woman on his bed and wondered if he’d finally lost his grip on the last frayed thread of his sanity. Long hair the color of dark fire draped her slender form in a glorious tangle of curls. The diaphanous gown flowed over her slender curves, highlighting her femininity. She had to be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She couldn’t be real. Somehow, she was. He’d touched her to make sure only to find out that her pure-as-cream skin was as soft as it looked. He could still feel her against his fingertips.


A knock on the door and the creak of hinges heralded company. He didn’t worry. There was only one creature it could be.


“Rowan? You coming out today? I got my head sewn back on. Forty-two stitches this time.”


Rowan didn’t look away from the apparition on his bed. “Not today, Wheezer.”


“Aw, come on. You’re the only one who chops my head off any— Oh, pretty.” The door closed behind the golem and his wheedling tone turned admiring. “I can see why you don’t want to play. It’s been a long time since you had company.”


Six hundred and seventy-five years to be exact. The golem and the occasional horde of strange creatures he was forced to destroy were the only breaks in his isolation.


“When did she show up?”


“About five minutes ago,” he answered absently. “Fell through the ceiling.”


“The ceiling?” Wheezer peered up at the solid stone above them and shook his newly repaired head, wooden joints and dry leather creaking at the motion. “You know what that means.”


Yes, he knew. Either he was dreaming or his existence had just taken a steep dive back into hell. And here he’d been hoping the Fae King had forgotten about him.


Before he could respond, the woman on the bed stirred, her lashes shifting against her cheeks. Rowan bolted to his feet, already backing toward the door. She couldn’t see him! If she realized he was here, she would make his life an exercise in excruciating social interaction. She might even want to talk.


“Keep an eye on her, Wheeze.”


“I’ll scare her!”


Rowan didn’t care. There was only one reason for the woman to be here. No matter if it left him trapped for an eternity, he was done with the Fae and their games. The only way to escape this one, however, was to avoid her altogether.


He headed into the dense forest that surrounded the small tower, careful to change direction every few minutes. If he didn’t, he would wind up walking right back to the tower as his prison looped him back to the beginning. All roads began and ended at the tower.


The trees grew denser, leaves shading from green to an emerald that sparkled like faceted jewels in the light. A small pond appeared and he stopped on a rock that jutted out over the crystal pure water. His heart rate had gone up, he noted absently. Fear? No, just a primal acknowledgment of danger to his peace of mind and general well being. And his heart.


Why had he made that stupid bargain in the first place?


He snorted softly. Because he was a fool, obviously. There was no such thing as love. There was lust, loyalty, camaraderie and even friendship, but in all the years he’d been alive, he’d never seen anything he could call love. Granted, most of his existence had happened in this bubble of time, alone with his thoughts with only Wheezer for company.


Mostly, pairings were for mutual benefit or breeding children. When the Fae King had offered him a chance for something more, he’d leaped at the opportunity, not stopping to wonder what was in it for the bastard.


If you come with me, I promise you a woman of your own, one who loves you true.


Well, he’d come and been rejected not once but twelve damn times. He wasn’t about to put himself out there again. There was a time for a man to stand down and admit defeat. He wasn’t a man women wanted, a man who hadn’t been crafted to be a breeder. He had been born a soldier and a soldier is what he would always be. He wasn’t cut out to be around women.


Around him, Summer murmured in soft breezes and the warm scent of blossoms. Why had the Fae King chosen to send another woman into this hell of his creation? Why this woman? He’d failed to win one of the princesses offered him, so why hadn’t the King simply sent him home again? Why keep him here at all?


The questions circled, buzzing in his head. He closed his eyes, wishing—not for the first time—that he had never made this bargain in the first place.


The air turned cooler as time passed, warning him that dark would be on him soon. Still, he lingered, lost in memories of past mistakes and concerns about the future. Retreat and regroup was his first instinct but, trapped as he was, retreat was impossible.


Dark enfolded him and he looked up. No stars. No moon. No sun during the day. Only the varying light to tell passage of time. Except that time didn’t actually move here. He hadn’t aged a day since the King had dragged him back into this forsaken bubble of a place.


Why this woman? Why now?


He resisted the curiosity. Full dark was on him when the cool of the evening finally drove him from hiding and back to the tower where his worst fears waited.