Menelaus had other plans, though, and they all involved bringing Helen home. It would not be an easy task, and Menelaus knew he would have to deal with Hector, Paris ’s brother, in the process.
At the thought of Hector, his image flooded Raven’s mind. He was pure muscle, standing just under six feet tall, with hair as black as night and eyes as blue as the sea. He was very protective of Paris and vowed to fight to the death to protect Helen.
Raven knew immediately Hector’s soul was that of Frank Dubois.
A swirl of mists wiped away the image of the two lovers in bed and replaced it with another. Lush greenery now surrounded Raven, the air full of moisture, the grounds wet after a spring rain.
Raven made her way through the forest and was transported to a castle on a steep hill. There she saw the walls shining with sand-colored marble and flags flying high above the tower.
Again the silhouette of a lonely man stood stark against the brilliant marble walls. Raven wanted a better look at him, and she soon found herself standing beside him-only he did not see her.
Another man came up behind him. “Arthur,” the handsome knight called out. He was blonde and fair-and yet he was Tobias, dark and brooding inside.
“Lancelot, my friend,” Arthur said, turning to the fair-haired man.
Arthur’s hair was the color of honey and his eyes sparkled like a fine port wine. It was Philippe-once again a king.
“My queen has informed me that you wanted to speak to me,” Lancelot said.
“How is she feeling? She has not been well these past few months. Who knew bearing a child could be this trying?”
Lancelot’s gaze turned to the landscape that spread out before them. “She’s better. I think she’ll be all right from now on. Sometimes the first few months are hard on a woman, but she has wanted this baby for a long time. She hasn’t complained one bit.”
Arthur cringed at the intimacy with which Lancelot spoke about his Guinevere.
Deep down, he knew it was not his child that grew in his wife’s belly, but Lancelot’s. Morgan le Fay, Arthur’s sister, had cursed him. He would never know the pleasure of fatherhood with his wife, but he kept that truth concealed for the sake of Camelot.
Raven also knew she was the child conceived by Lancelot and Guinevere, and Nicolette was her mother once more, embodied in fair Guinevere.
What Arthur didn’t know was that his sister had also betrayed him and tricked him into impregnating her before she cursed him. She bore a son, Mordred, and once more, the triad formed as Frank’s spirit took the form of Mordred, poised to do battle yet again with his enemies, Tobias and Philippe.
A crack of thunder and flash of lightning brought the dawn of a new day. This time Raven was in the desert. It was dry, and dusk coated the landscape with the glorious colors of a setting sun.
A woman stood looking out into the distance. Her hair hung down her back in waves the color of autumn. The sun caught flecks of gold in her mass of copper-colored tresses. She wore deerskin moccasins and a blanket of animal hide wrapped around her shoulders.
It was Nicolette. She was far from her encampment, and the energy surrounding her was drenched in apprehension. Raven knew her mother waited for two brothers to return from the hunt. One of the brothers was her husband, Running Bear.
“White Dove,” a voice called from up the sloping hillside. “Your daughter wants to be fed.”
Without a thought, Raven knew she was the little girl waiting to eat.
“I’ll be right there,” the young woman answered. Instead of mists filling the air, a cloud of dust whirled, and the pounding of hooves made the earth tremble. As the clouds settled, Raven could see a herd of buffalo racing through a valley. Brightly painted ponies galloped along the perimeter of the herd.
“Chief Running Bear, Storm Cloud has two down, and I’ve got one. Snake took two…”They spoke in a foreign tongue, yet Raven understood every word.
“Good. I have two back by the clearing, and I’ve got my eye on this big male…” With an explosive burst of energy, the man called Running Bear threw his spear into the hide of the massive buffalo, hitting him right in his neck. The beast kept running.
Raven heard words coming from the other man’s mind-evil thoughts.
“I could throw my spear right into the chief’s heart and no one would know it wasn’t an innocent mistake-one of the dangers of the hunt. Then, White Dove would be mine.”
Only Running Bear’s brother, Red Hawk, didn’t know another warrior looking in his direction was thinking similar sinister thoughts. The faces melted into their present incarnations, Running Bear became Tobias and Red Hawk morphed into Frank. The angry warrior turned into Laroque.
Over and over, the scenes played out in Raven’s dreams of the love affairs between Nicolette and Philippe, Frank and Tobias. All three men vied for her affection, and in each lifetime, her heart belonged to Tobias.
The car swerved over a bump in the road and jarred Raven back to consciousness. She opened her eyes, her mind still a jumble of sights and feelings from times long since past. Feelings that were still very much alive in her present.
It was clear this drama would continue to play out in subsequent lifetimes unless there was some kind of resolution.
Could she also be enslaved to her own saga lifetime after lifetime? Was there a similar connection between Bethany, Bo and herself? Did she really want to create more drama in her own life? Maybe it wasn’t such a smart idea to marry him after all. So much of what they had was gone.
She loved Bo and there was still excitement between them, but on a different level. She felt so utterly human, and that disappointed her. Raven could no longer offer him the passion-filled nights they once shared-that much was evident her first night back from the hospital. She was mortal now, and one bite from him could kill her, or seriously maim her at best.
What could she offer him now? A boring life, one in which he would far outlive her, and she would age while he remained ageless, virile and handsome. Bethany would remain young as well. Her beauty would eat away at Raven.
Bo would notice his wife was old and grey with wrinkled skin, but his ex-lover wouldn’t look a day over thirty. Her body would remain lithe, taut and muscular from all the running they would do in the pack.
They would glimmer back into human form, sweaty and lustful from the endorphins coursing through their blood. Her voluptuous body would arouse Bo, her scent would drive him wild, and Bethany would get what she wanted.
Together they could have a decent life and a family. The commonality they shared was something with which Raven could never compete. She would never know what it was like to be a wolf. To shimmer from one form into another must be elating. The feeling of running with the pack, the freedom, the sense of camaraderie… She envied the shifters.
The feeling of having a family was something Raven would sorely miss.
Bethany had a history with Bo. His parents-at least his mother-supported the pairing of the two. Bethany would give the clan many strong children to carry on its lineage.
He would eventually wind up with her anyway. Why put off what was bound to happen? It was inevitable. Bo would be Bethany ’s mate, and Raven could expect nothing more. They would share the ability to love each other with complete abandon, without the risk to life or limb. It was the best thing for Bo, his freedom.