Exactly two weeks ago...
The towering trees soared heavenward, their ancient limbs draped in thick, velvety moss that glistened under the lingering caress of the morning dew. The gentle moisture seeped into the air, creating a fragrant mist that swirled lazily around Caralee as her mount trotted steadily along the well-trodden path. The scent, a rich blend of sodden leaves, moist earth, and something deeper, something ethereal, filled her senses and calmed the subtle turmoil brewing in her chest.
Caralee inhaled deeply, savoring this intoxicating aroma that tugged at her memories, distant and ephemeral, like whispers from a half-forgotten dream. Even as a child, the forest had woven its essence into her soul, gently calling to her through open windows on moonlit nights. Donovan had often teased her, affectionately noting how she carried the woodland fragrance wherever she ventured, as though the forest itself had marked her as its own.
Around her, the woods painted themselves in endless shades of green, from the profound depths of shadowy emerald to the lighter, sun-kissed hues of springtime growth. Among these colors, forest green remained her favorite, mirroring her gown that flowed gracefully about her figure, enhancing the vibrant intensity of her emerald eyes. Caralee was not merely traversing this landscape; she felt entirely intertwined with it, as if every heartbeat of the creatures hidden in the foliage resonated in harmony with her own.
Her fiery red hair blazed brilliantly, striking a vivid contrast against the muted olive backdrop, casting her as a vibrant flame amid serene shadows. Adel had always remarked that her hair matched her mother's perfectly, igniting in both a fire that was as fierce as it was beautiful. This flame, Adel claimed, was a reflection of the passionate spirit each woman carried within herself.
Caralee's contemplative reverie was broken as she rounded the last bend into a secluded clearing, the soft thunder of hooves echoing gently through the hulking trunks of the vast expanse of trees. Her heart quickened slightly at the familiar sight that awaited her.
Donovan Crossoux stood, statuesque beneath the canopy of ancient branches, his broad figure and impressive height as commanding as ever, akin to a great cathedral spire piercing the heavens.
When Donovan turned to face her, his cool, steely eyes met hers, sparking a subtle warmth that was uniquely his own. A faint, half-smile lifted the corner of his lips—the kind of smile that seemed almost smug, knowing full well the effect it had upon her. Caralee knew this expression well; it emerged only when Donovan felt the power of his presence ripple through her, drawing forth a reaction that was as irresistible as it was inevitable.
Yet today, beneath that beguiling facade, his handsome features were marred by exhaustion, shadows beneath his eyes revealing a night robbed of restful slumber. Her pulse quickened with anxious uncertainty as thoughts surged through her mind in rapid succession. Had their secret affection been discovered by Donovan's demanding parents? Was Donovan to be whisked away beyond her reach?
As Caralee neared, Donovan gracefully dismounted, his movements fluid and effortless, belying his imposing stature. He seemed to glide rather than walk, captivating in both poise and appearance. Women, young and old alike, found themselves entranced whenever he entered a room, not merely due to his remarkable physical presence but also because of the intangible charm and inherent kindness that radiated from him.
Despite the endless parade of noblewomen presented to him by his parents, Donovan had rejected them all, seeking instead a deeper, more meaningful connection. In Caralee, he had found that elusive blend of intellect, independence, and warmth—a partner he desired above all else, regardless of societal expectations or parental aspirations.
With practiced gallantry, Donovan extended his arm to assist her down from her horse. As Caralee's feet touched solid ground, their eyes locked, and an electric charge surged between them, nearly buckling her knees beneath her weight. Donovan's strong arms were already there, wrapping around her waist to steady her, holding her close in an embrace that ignited every nerve ending with desire and longing.
Caralee was overcome by the sensation of being in his presence, aware that no simple touch or brief embrace would ever suffice. She craved him endlessly, the hunger only deepening with each fleeting interaction. Yet their clandestine meetings were marked by restraint and yearning, each moment merely a tantalizing hint of the future they desperately hoped to share openly.
"My love, I looked forward to seeing you all morning," Caralee confessed softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she studied his troubled expression. "Yet you do not seem as pleased to see me."
Donovan's face darkened further, his jaw tightening briefly before he spoke in somber tones. "I am here to warn you, Caralee. I'm afraid you must leave today."
Caralee's breath caught sharply in her throat, her heart hammering violently against her ribs. Fear and confusion flickered in her eyes as she sought answers within the tempestuous depths of Donovan's gaze.
"I do not understand," she whispered, her voice trembling faintly. "What has happened, Donovan? What have I done to force such a decision?"
Immediately, Donovan's stern expression softened, tenderness and sorrow mingling in his gaze as he gently cupped her cheek. The thing he loved most about Caralee—her genuine innocence and tendency to blame herself for every misfortune—pierced his heart like a bittersweet dagger.
"You have done nothing wrong, my beloved," he reassured her quietly, his thumb softly stroking her cheek. "This is solely for your safety, and were it not utterly necessary, I would never ask this of you. But time is short, Caralee."
Her confusion persisted, battling fiercely with the trust and love she felt so deeply for Donovan. "Where must I go? Why must I leave? Please, Donovan, tell me what has happened," she pleaded earnestly.
Donovan sighed deeply, taking her hands gently in his own, and gazed down into her wide, questioning eyes. With careful deliberation, he began to recount the troubling events that had unfolded that very morning, each word heavy with implication and the gravity of imminent danger.