Page 32 of Bewitched

“Why do I have to return?” she asked. “I don’t see a need. I’m perfectly happy here.”

“You don’t belong here, sweetheart. Your being here is by accident. We need to fix that.”

She looked at him and smiled, her eyes twinkling with happiness. “Did you just call me sweetheart?”

Too late, Rhys realized his mistake. He never should have used the endearment, because she seemed to like it a little too much. She also focused on that and didn’t seem to hear a word he said about her leaving here. “You have a home. Back in England, not here,” he continued. “You have a family and people who will miss you if you don’t return.”

She looked up directly into his eyes and he watched her smile quickly fade. Sadness, as well as pain filled her big brown eyes. It made him curious as to why this was happening or what was making the girl look so sad. He wanted to ask about her and her life, and figure out exactly who she really was, but if he did, it might just lead her on. Rhys liked an independent woman like her. He also liked a woman who was powerful, and that was something that surely described her. He had never met anyone like Medea before. Even though she had a way of irritating him with her stubbornness, he was starting to enjoy being in her presence. Medea wasn’t just a beautiful wench, she was also someone who seemed to know what she wanted, and someone who wouldn’t let anyone stand in her way once she made a decision. If only he could feel as confident with his own choices right now.

“I don’t belong back in England, either, believe me,” she said in a soft voice. “I promise you, no one will ever miss me if I don’t return.”

“How can you say that? I’m sure it’s not true.”

“It is true.”

“It can’t be.”

“It is, I tell you!” she said, with a stomp of her foot upon the ground. Her hands went to her hips. He seemed to be making her angry, and he hadn’t meant to do that. “You don’t know the first thing about me and my family, Rhys, so don’t pretend that you do. You know absolutely nothing about me at all. Nothing, I say!”

“Medea?” He was almost afraid to speak since his words were making her filled with emotion, and not in a good way. Her eyes seemed to turn from brown to black, unless it was his imagination. Something deep inside warned him to stay quiet. Unfortunately, another part of him needed to know what was upsetting her so much. For such a young woman, she seemed to hold the weight of the world upon her shoulders, and he wondered why. “What do you mean by that?”

“Never mind.” She almost looked as if she were going to cry. She turned away from him, but he grabbed her arm and gently pulled her back toward him.

Medea looked up to him with tears in her eyes. He didn’t want to see her so sad, plus he certainly didn’t understand it. She seemed so innocent that his heart went out to her, and he found himself wanting to protect her. She’d made it sound as if her family didn’t want her, but how could this possibly be true? A tear dripped down her cheek, so he reached up and softly brushed it away with his thumb.

All he wanted to do was to make her happy and keep her safe. Disgusted by his greed, he now wondered how he could have been tempted to carry out the King’s plans. Guilt ate away at him, and he hoped she would never find out what he had almost agreed to do.

Rhys knew now that he could never purposely harm her. If he had carried out the King’s commands just to get what he wanted, he’d be no better than the greedy, ruthless, black-hearted kings of Mura. Rhys could never be that way. Although he’d had a weak moment, he hadn’t been thinking clearly at the time. It just wasn’t worth the steep price he’d have to pay just to attain wealth and someday claim the throne of a king.

Darium was right, although Rhys hated to admit it. Rhys could never hurt a woman, and certainly not someone like Medea.

“I don’t like seeing you so sad,” he said, noticing a stray tear making a trail down her cheek. Gently, he reached out, cupping her chin in his palm, and using his thumb to brush away the tear. Her eyes closed and she leaned in to his touch. Slowly, he rubbed the back of his fingers over the swell of her soft cheek.

“Thank you for putting up with me and for being so kind,” she said, her eyes flickering open. Once again, the color was brown, the black disappearing completely. “No one has ever treated me this way before.”

He saw her gaze drop from his eyes to his mouth. His gaze dropped to her mouth as well. She wasn’t leaving or pulling away, and neither did he want her to. Lost in his thoughts, he couldn’t stop wondering how her lips would feel against his.

Boldly, he bent down and pressed his mouth against hers. She didn’t fight him, nor did she pull away. Instead, her arms went around his neck and she deepened the kiss on her own. In the kiss he felt power, passion, and even a little pain. But at the same time, if he wasn’t mistaken, he felt a sense of gratitude, mixed with a tinge of desperation. Nay, he didn’t know Medea, she was right. But now, he wanted to find out everything about this mysterious lady before he sent her back through the portal and never saw her again.

Slowly their lips parted, and he found himself lost in the depths of her beautiful, mesmerizing eyes.

“Brother? Are you coming?” Darium walked back to find them still standing there. Rhys quickly pulled away from Medea, and stood up straight, clearing his throat. Why did he feel like a youth being caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to?

“Aye, we were just... resting for a bit.” Rhys cleared his throat again.

“I see,” said Darium, raising a brow.

Medea smiled sweetly at Rhys, and then turned and ran to catch up with the rest of the group.

“Bad timing, Brother,” Rhys grunted once she’d left.

Darium chuckled. “Glad I can repay the favor, after all the times you interrupted me.”

“I’m going to hate to see her go, but it’s imperative that she returns to England through that portal.” Rhys watched Medea as he spoke. She seemed so full of life and energy as she talked with her sister. If he didn’t know she was a witch, he’d swear she had qualities of the fae. As if she knew he was watching her, she shyly glanced over at him, smiling once again.

“So... does this mean you’re no longer going to be in line to inherit the Kingdom of Kasculbough?” asked Darium, pulling Rhys’ attention away from Medea.

Rhys looked at his brother, shaking his head. “I never said that.”