The Prince And The Pagan

Chapter 3: An Old Hatred

-Raven-

“Come, this way.”

“Not so fast!” I protested.

Micah glanced back at me with a smile as he led me farther from the village.

“The elders will see us! You know they’re very strict about not straying too far!” I said.

“Are you afraid?” he teased. “Didn’t you sneak away on the last hunt because you were sure you could catch dinner on your own?”

“I did catch dinner on my own.”

“You also spent that dinner being scolded and were forbidden from joining the next three hunts.”

I rolled my eyes and chose not to comment. I had taken down a 370-pound deer all by myself! They might think they needed to teach me a lesson, but I was the best hunter in the entire village—better than the older hunters, better than any of the men!

“I still caught our dinner,” I said.

Micah shook his head and laughed. “Yeah, and with that attitude, how do you expect to find a husband?”

“I thought you were going to marry me.”

He smiled warmly before stopping and turning us around. Pressing me gently against a tree, he pushed some of my red hair behind my ear. His soft brown eyes met mine as he leaned closer, pressing his lips against mine. They were warm and tender, and I slowly began to move my lips in response.

“So, that’s why you wanted me out here,” I murmured between kisses.

“As if you didn’t already know, Raven Lockhart,” Micah said with a grin, “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

I smiled as he pressed his lips against mine again. His kisses trailed slowly down my neck, and my body began to respond with warmth. However, when his hands started to move lower and squeezed my backside, I felt that things were going a bit too far.

“Micah, the fishermen’s posts are just over there,” I said, nodding toward the large stream behind us, even though he couldn’t see the gesture.

“They won’t see us,” he murmured against my neck. “The trees cover us.”

“What trees? There are barely any.”

“Don’t be so nervous,” he said. “I heard there’s a meeting happening. They’ll be there.”

I pushed Micah away, feeling confused. “A meeting?”

“You didn’t hear?” he inquired, looking surprised.

I shook my head, grinding my teeth in frustration. “I can’t believe my father kept this a secret,” I said, my voice tinged with anger.

“So what? You have me all to yourself,” Micah said with a shrug.

“This could be about the other villages,” I said. “Maybe they’ve been attacked or need help, or maybe the king is planning to hunt us again, like the old one did.”

“King William doesn’t care about us,” Micah replied dismissively.

“The late king did,” I said firmly.

“King William is not the late king.”

“I don’t think we should take our chances.”

“Raven,” he sighed. “Let’s forget about the meeting, okay?”

“Why should I? My father is the council leader, and I’m supposed to be his successor. How can I lead this village if he keeps me in the dark?”

Micah sighed again, shaking his head slightly.

“Your father clearly trusts you,” I continued.

Micah’s father was on the council too, and he had clearly shared information with his son. However, there was a big difference between us. While I wanted to be part of the council after my father’s death, Micah had no interest in it.

“Let’s forget about our stupid fathers!” Micah said, trying to change the subject. “I didn’t come out here to talk about them.”

“But—” He leaned down, pressing his lips against mine to silence me. At first, I leaned into the kiss, but I grew uncomfortable as his hands began to roam.

“Micah, I’m not doing this out in the open,” I said firmly.

But he didn’t listen. What was happening to him? He was never like this.

“Micah!” I exclaimed.

Still, he ignored me. His lips moved further down, and when he began to unfasten my coat, I quickly reached for the knife in the holster at my hip. I stepped back and pressed the blade against his throat.

“I said no,” I said darkly.

He sighed, clearly annoyed and looking almost bored. “Really? A knife?”

“Are you deaf?” I retorted.

“Where’s the fun Raven? When did you get so boring?”

“Screw you! I don’t even know what’s going on with you. Does it have something to do with the meeting? Do you know what’s happening?”

He stared at me for a moment before taking a step back. I kept my hand lifted with the knife, but he just shook his head and began to walk away.

“Micah!” I called out.

He didn’t respond, leaving me standing there, confused with the knife still raised. What had just happened? It made no sense. I sighed and lowered my arm, sheathing the knife.

I leaned against the tree, feeling the weight of being kept in the dark. I might not be my father’s biological daughter, but he always said that didn’t matter. Now, I feared it did.

“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath.

I picked up a stone from the ground and threw it. It hit a nearby tree. As I walked over to retrieve it, I noticed something unusual between the trees—something blue. Yes, it looked like blue fabric. I stood up and moved toward the stream, where the fishing rods were securely planted in the ground and the traps were placed in the water.

I continued to walk closer, watching as the blue object grew larger until I realized it was a cape. It had become snagged on a stone not far from the shore. I slowly waded into the icy water, the chill of winter making it feel like frozen shards against my skin. Despite the cold, I was intrigued by the vibrant blue color. I picked up the cape and stepped back onto the shore, holding it up.

That’s when I saw it: a large, roaring lion made of silver thread embroidered on the back. I gasped in surprise before lowering the cape and glancing around. This cape hadn’t just appeared here by accident.

I scanned the quiet forest, listening for any sounds that might indicate the presence of spies or that our village had been discovered. Then I noticed a glint of sunlight reflecting off something in the water. I moved along the stony shore, reaching into the water to retrieve…

It was a sword! The handle, too, bore the emblem of a roaring lion. It was perfectly balanced, a testament to the skill of the blacksmith who had crafted it. I swung it gently through the air when I noticed something strange about the water—it was tinged red.

I followed the red trail and gasped when I saw what was trapped between the larger rocks. It was a man! I quickly ran through the water and reached him. His arm lay sprawled across a rock, while his face was partially submerged. I threw the cape and sword onto the shore and grabbed his arm, struggling to turn him around. He was heavy, and moving him was no easy task.

I kept trying until I finally managed to lift his head above water. I swung his arm around my shoulder and carried him back to the shore. Once we were safely on land, I collapsed, breathing heavily from the effort. He had been difficult to move, and I was exhausted.

Turning to him, I saw that his face was turned away. I moved closer to assess his condition. He had a large wound in his stomach, but I couldn’t discern any other injuries. I placed my hands on his face and gently turned it to look at him. I gasped in shock and stumbled back—it was the prince! I could hardly believe it.

Regaining my composure, I leaned closer and held my breath to listen for his breathing. There it was, faint and slow, but it was there.

Sitting back on my heels, I glanced toward the village. It was eerily quiet. We seemed to be alone. The old hatred within me flared up as I reached for my knife. The young prince lay there, vulnerable and defenseless, with no one to stop me. I raised the knife, my hand trembling with years of pent-up anger.

I had waited for this moment... waited for years! I could do this. I could finally take my revenge. I lifted the knife higher, poised to strike...