“It was an awful moment,” I said. “One we all shared—you, me, Marcellious, even Leaping Deer.”
Roman’s frown deepened, and he rolled to his side. His face was covered with shadows as he regarded me with his haunted gaze.
“My father,” he said, barely getting the words out. He cleared his throat and began again. “My father was Balthazar’s friend. For so long, I’ve wanted to know who he is, picturing him as a noble, proud man. Then, to find out he was friends with thatdemon.”
He curled his lip into a sneer.
“What do you mean? Balthazar doesn’t have friends.”
Realization dawned like a festering splinter.
“Unless…” I pressed my palm to my mouth. When I removed it, I said, “Oh, no. Your father…was he…is he a demon of the dark?”
“Yes,” Roman said in a strangled tone. “And Balthazar… He told me… He told me Marcellious possesses most of the darkness. That is why he is the way he is.”
“No, baby, it’s all lies. You know it is! That’s what you told me when Balthazar showed me stories of my mother.” I blinked away fresh tears.
“Yet do you believe what he showed you?”
“Yes,” I managed to choke out. “Yes, I believe what I saw.”
Roman’s gaze grew somber. “So do I. I believe what he told me. He said my father betrayed him, and Balthazar would kill him when he found him again. But my father… he insisted that Balthazar spare my mother.”
Roman’s nostrils flared. “Please don’t tell Marcellious any of this. It will influence him if he knows our father was a demon. Perhaps his actions today—his confession–will be the beacon of good that keeps him on the righteous path.”
“Maybe,” I said. “I hope that’s true.”
“And when my health is restored, my beloved…in one week, maybe two…you and I shall be wed. Promise me this. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I don’t want you to carry the world’s weight in your heart.”
“I don’t want that for you, either.” I raised his hand to my lips and kissed each fingertip. “We will share the load. Don’t you remember what you said to me in Rome? Your problems are my problems. We share a life.”
I brought his hand to my belly and lay my hand over his. “Do you have any idea who this man is who saved your life?”
Roman shook his head. “No. He moved swiftly like the darkness. He was strong and looked to be around my age. Maybe not all darknesses are bad. I don’t know. I was consumed by pain and fever, but we seemed to move quickly as if time traveling, but I don’t think we traversed time at all. And he was as real as you or me. But I don’t know who he was or why he came to rescue me. I owe him my life, however.”
I frowned. Could it be another darkness that saved Roman? But why? It didn’t make sense. I’d believed all darknesses were evil.
A noise sounded outside the teepee, followed by Grey Feather’s voice. “Swift Hawk, you are awake!”
Light split the dark interior, and Grey Feather entered.
“It is good to see you alive.” His weathered face creased with a smile.
“Chief,” Roman said. He struggled to sit up but fell back onto the bison skin. His cheeks were stained with a rosy hue as if embarrassed by his weakness. “I would like to marry Olivia as soon as I am able. And I would like you to be our officiate.”
The chief’s eyes shone. “It would be my honor, Swift Hawk. I know of no two other Timebornes who have married before. I will tell the others, and we shall prepare!”
He departed on the heels of that statement like a rush of wild wind.
I was going to be married. But my heart and mind lingered on the thoughts of the man who had saved Roman. Who was he? Why did he save Roman?
Why did I want to run to him when I saw him?
Olivia
A couple of weeks went by, and Roman had healed. Today, November 14, 1812, a week after my twenty-sixth birthday, I would marry the most handsome, courageous, honorable man I’d ever met—Roman Alexander. Yet, I was far more nervous than I’d thought. So much was at stake with Balthazar hunting us, as I was confident he was. Everyone I knew and cared for, even my unborn child, could be slaughtered by that evil demon.
Still, deep in the furthest reaches of my soul, a knowing calm and strength resided. Roman and I shared a fated love, the kind of union that came along once in a blue moon. It made all other relationships I’d been in, especially with Tristan, seem nonsensical. Getting married to Roman matched all my 21st-century feminist notions of equal rights and power for women. Roman and I were on equal footing—there was no debate. We fought side by side with cunning and power. And we loved one another with a similar passion.
