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“You cannot think it is Lord Arbrec?” her mother had asked. “I hardly think the King would agree to a betrothal between the daughter of an earl and his court wizard.”

He seemed mollified. “But he challenged Roker in front of us.”

“Nay, the duke challenged him. Whether he has his eye on Melissa or not, his pride would not have let him back down. Even bastards have pride, my lord.” She gave a side glance to her daughter and a quick wink. “Methinks you over worry about nothing.”

By dinner that night, Melissa was surprised to see that the earl no longer appeared angry. Nibbling at some cheese, she asked, “Are you over your temper now, my lord father?”

“Yea, I thought a woman had thwarted me and was leading our new King by the ear,” he replied. “But then I realized, if Henry has more affection for this unknown advisor than Roker, mayhap this match will be more advantageous for our family.”

Agnes’ smile held satisfaction. “Very clever of you, my love.”

He cut a piece of trout and pointed his knife at her. “Whichever way the wind blows, you will remain an obedient daughter. Or you will be no daughter of mine. Is that understood?”

Melissa held his gaze and waited an instant longer than wisdom dictated. She was not normally defiant, but her spine bristled with the threat. “What else would I be, if not obedient? Have I ever disappointed you before?”

“Watch yourself. You are my child, but I will not brook insolence. Marriages are arrangements. They forge treaties and pacts. And I will make the final decision.”

She gritted her teeth, took a slow breath, and bowed her head to hide the outrage in her eyes.

Alone in her room, Melissa rubbed the lemon herb between her fingers and rocked back and forth. What would her father say when he found out? For she knew with all her heart, the queen spoke of Rolf. She pressed her fingers against her temples to block out the confusion that clouded her mind.

The duke made a logical choice for a husband.

His title increased the family’s standing, and she would be mistress of vast properties.

He was young, attractive, and charming with similar interests.

Yet, something bothered her about Lord Roker.

She felt a coldness in him this afternoon that had wrapped around her like a February wind.

Anger sizzled beneath his placid surface.

Today, Charles had reminded her of the volcano her brother’s tutor had described—simmering and ready to explode.

Would his bitterness slowly spread out to cover all those around him?

Rolf, on the other hand, rose like a hero of an Arthurian legend.

Her mother had been engaged in idle talk with courtiers.

Those who knew the wizard spoke of his loyalty and intelligence but also considered him somber and a loner.

Yet, rumors had spread that the queen wanted her wizard to find a wife.

It seemed the women at court now vied for the opportunity to win one of his rare smiles.

His mystery appealed to even the married females.

Strong, dark, and dangerously handsome, his effect on her was intoxicating and more intense than the duke’s.

But her father was right. Rolf was not her social equal.

Yet, he filled her with excitement and an overwhelming desire.

Could that fluttering in her stomach, the racing of her heart when he was near, be love?

And if it were, could she defy her father and risk losing her family for a man she only knew in her sleep?

The same dream had haunted her for five nights now.

She learned more about him each time she closed her eyes.

Sleep became a way to see him again, and she woke each morning with a great hollowness in her gut.

When Lord Arbrec sat next to her, the same feeling had returned the first time she’d seen him in the woods.

His voice caressed her senses. His presence made her feel safe and cherished and… whole.

Had he cast one of his spells and tricked her body into needing him?

Even as the thought crossed her mind, Melissa denied it.

He did not need any magic. In her mind, she had already given herself to him.

Her body leaned into him of its own accord.

She realized she wanted to lay her head upon his shoulder, close her eyes, and block out the rest of the world.

A rap at the door gave her a start. Why would Beatrice knock? Her mother had come to check on her. She opened the door and gasped. Rolf stood before her, his mantle tossed over one shoulder, his fingers running through his untamed, midnight hair.

He stepped inside the room, shut the door, and pulled her to him.

She looked into those golden eyes and fought the desire that swelled in her breast. Melissa pushed at his chest and shook her head.

But as his lips claimed hers, any resistance melted away.

Her legs went limp. If not for his arms around her waist, she would have fallen to the floor.

Passion spread through her like liquid heat.

When her mouth opened, his tongue tasted of spiced wine as it glided over her teeth.

Her fingers slid up the hard length of his arms then timidly rested on his chest. Soft kisses floated along her jaw and down her neck. Without thinking, one hand wrapped around his neck; her fingers entwined in the silky black waves. He let out a moan.

This is not a dream , she thought with a gasp, as his arousal pushed against her thin shift. Reason slowly penetrated the fog, and Melissa shoved again at his chest, desperate to put distance between them. This time, she was successful

“Nay! I need an explanation.” She backed away, one hand reaching for the chair behind her, the other on her chest to calm her racing heart. “How do you invade my mind every night? Do you seduce me with your magic?”

Rolf let out a booming laugh.

“Shhhh, what if someone hears you,” she whispered. “My father would be furious.”

“Hmm, and your reputation could be ruined. Interesting thought. It would make things much easier.” He took a step toward her.

“Stay where you are. I cannot think when you’re close.” Melissa peered up at his shadowed face. Her heart thudded with such ferocity; she could barely hear his next words. Yea, she needed space between them until he answered her questions.

“I cannot enchant you, for it would rob me of my only hope to end this damnable curse.” Head bent, he looked at her from under thick black lashes. “You have heard of Merlin?”

“Everyone knows that legend.” She crossed her arms. “What does it have to do with me?”

“He is more than a mere legend.”

“Even if he did truly live hundreds of years ago, how does that put you in my dreams?” She paused, remembering the mist and forest. “The old man in the tree—”

“Is Merlin, and he is very much alive. Why don’t you sit down while I tell his story.” He gently guided Melissa back to her chair. Once she was settled, Rolf continued.

“During the time of King Arthur’s reign, Merlin fell in love with a young woman named Vivien. Since she was not attracted to him, he lured her to his side by teaching her enchantments. She grew very fond of him but still did not love him romantically.

“Merlin resented this, and in his anger, cast a love spell upon her. Being an apt pupil, Vivien cursed him in return. She trapped him in a Rowan tree, hoping to teach him a lesson: Genuine love is not forced and can never be one-sided.

“Only the firstborn male of each generation has the ability to break the spell. So far, none have been successful.” He shrugged and leaned a shoulder against the bedpost, arms crossed, waiting for her response.

Melissa opened her mouth to speak but could only stare at this man. Of all the mad thoughts that had gone through her mind when she thought of her mysterious wizard, nothing compared to this tale. Spells and trees and genuine love? It was better than any story Beatrice had told her as a child.

“My father held out for an heiress and did not marry my mother, his true love. Now this scourge falls on me. Merlin must be freed before the tree dies.”

“Or?”

“Or his death will follow along with his magic. My inheritance, the sorcery that has been handed to our line for centuries, will end.” He knelt in front of her, holding her fingers in his large, warm hands. “Only one branch still retains any leaves. His time is short.”

“And you are the last hope. But what if you do not love me?” she whispered.

“Then Merlin perishes with the winter,” he spoke softly, his gaze lost in the embers of the brazier. “But I have waited for you for fifteen years, seen you in my sleep, heard your voice, and watched you grow into a beautiful, young woman. I have no doubt you are my chosen one.”

“And if I do not love you?” Her voice trembled. “Why do you tell me this? To make me feel guilty and help you?”

“Nay, our love must be true. I cannot risk the use of sorcery or deceit. The moment I do, it is over.” He took her hand in his.

“It occurred to me that over the centuries, none of the men were ever honest and explained this inherited quest. So I present you with the facts, although you may think me afflicted.”

“But you have used magic. I have seen you as a falcon outside my window, and you come to me in my dreams.” Could he be human with these abilities or is he a mystical creature?

“I am very much a man,” he answered softly, as if reading her thoughts. Or could he? “I need you to trust me, to take a chance. You must feel it, too. This is an intimacy I have never known with another person.”

“Yea,” she whispered, knowing her mind would fight this battle in sleep tonight and lose. During her waking hours, she must remain steadfast.

He took her face in his hands. Gently, with great care as if she were his most precious possession, he kissed each lid closed, then her cheeks, and finally her lips.

His tongue urged her mouth open to taste her sweetness.

She heard a low, desperate moan. Was that her own voice?

She wondered as the now familiar ache made her long for more of him.

His breath skimmed across her skin as he leaned his forehead against hers. “May the gods help me, for I love you, Melissa.” His mouth seared her skin with a trail of kisses. “No matter how this finishes, or what choice you make, I will always love you.”

Rap, rap, rap . “Melissa?”

“God’s teeth,” Rolf said, his breath whistling through his teeth.

Melissa looked frantically toward the door. She pushed him back and stood to smooth her robe and calm herself.

“My lady mother?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“I just want to say good night, my dear. Open the door.”

She turned around, frantic to find a place for Rolf to hide, but he was gone. The open shutters filled the room with an icy emptiness.