Prologue

A sudden flash of movement and we were running. Running for our lives. Dashing through the dark fields with certain death on our heels.

I had been warned this was a possibility, but nothing could have prepared me for the fear that suddenly engulfed my mind, the fear that shook my entire body. A fear that doubled as the thunderous footsteps of the ones around me quickened.

I was sprinting as fast as I could. My heart pounding and my breaths were already coming quick and uneven. In their panic my friends had forgotten my human limitations, even with the adrenaline surging through veins empowering me there was no possible way for me to reach their speeds.

The dread of being left behind filled me. Death was only moments away. I closed my eyes and urged my legs to move faster than ever before, clenching my fists tight as I waited for some sign of an attack. I knew nothing about fighting but I wasn't going to go down like some helpless child.

Seconds ticked by like hours. Was this what it was like to die? Did it always seem to take so long?

Cautiously I allowed myself to open my eyes and take in my surroundings. I knew I should be alone. I knew I should be face to face with one of the Dark Ones, but instead I was running in the middle of the group same as before. To my great astonishment I was having no trouble keeping pace.

CH 1

Jonathan Guyers.

Like him? He was acceptable at times. But love him? No. He was never the object of my affection and he never would be. Regardless of the way I felt about him I was meant to be his bride. Something I could not face without a fight.

"But I don't love him Papa!" I had shouted near tears when my father had learned of Jonathan's proposal.

"Rosaline!" He only reserved my full name for the times he was disappointed with me. "Can't you see how foolish your being? Don't you know what an opportunity this is for you, what this could mean for our family? Everything has already been settled. You will marry him." He said this last bit with the full authority a father has over his sixteen year old daughter then added as a sidenote, "It's what's best for you Rose."

He just didn't understand. I knew he truly thought what he was forcing me into would be good for me. We had never been well off. My father was a carpenter by trade and an honest and hard working man. James and Marilyn Henson had been unfortunate in the fact that they had never been blessed with any sons, only one lowly daughter. No good for helping a father with the family trade, nor even any good for passing on the Henson name. No, their only hope was to marry me off early and to a wealthy man, which was exactly their plan.

Jonathan Guyers. Nearly twice my age and ten times my social status. The perfect candidate as my parents saw him. They had long hoped he would take interest in me and they were not to be disappointed.

I never had any difficulties catching the attention of young men. I'm not conceited but I do have to admit that my features are pretty, and something about the contrast between my unusually fair skin and my hair that's such a dark shade of brown it could almost be considered black seems to catch men's fancy. I have to admit when placed among my peers I stuck out like a rose in a field of daises. I didn't like all of the attention though; I would have rather blended in with the background. I could tell men saw me as a rarity, a prize to be won and showcased. The very thought sickened me.

My affect on Jonathan seemed no different. He courted me for several weeks and at first I had been hopeful. Here was a dignified and educated man, surely he wouldn't be as shallow and dull as the men I had already encountered.

I was quickly disappointed. He was even more so than most. I cannot speak too ill of him though. He was ever polite and eager to offer me anything his wealth would allow, which quite possibly could have been more than my heart would ever dare desire. Still, the connection he and I had was not one of love. I had read enough hardbacked romance novels to know that.

As a young girl I had once made a promise to myself, a promise to never marry without love. It was the one promise I desired above all else to keep, for I was already to used to the ways of men.