The Heart of Love

CHAPTER TWO

Two Thousand Years Ago

Sardinia, Greece

Psyche

The sound of an object rolling across my floor wakes me from my slumber. I quickly sit up on my bed, adrenaline pounding through my veins. Yes, it could just be an animal who crawled in through my open window but still. I look around my bedroom. The candles on my wooden dresser are burnt out and the wind was blowing the curtains around gently. Nothing seems to be out of place other than a vase which has just finished rolling towards my bed. But I can sense another presence in my room.

Reaching under my pillow, I pull out my dagger. The cool metal sending a shiver down my spine. I kept one close to me at all times in case of emergency. It wasn't the first time a man has tried to break into my room in the middle of the night and I knew it wasn't going to be the last. I stand up, pointing the dagger into the darkness where I notice an outline of a figure.

"Whoever you are, you need to leave immediately" I hiss, my dark hair cascading down the front of my shoulders.

"Put your little prick away, Princissika, before you hurt yourself." A male voice replies.

I stand a little taller, attempting to appear unafraid. My brows furrow as I grip the dagger tighter in my hands, my knuckles going white. He was not going to take me easily. I am not as weak and frail as I look, and I do bite.

"Leave." I demand. The figure moves closer and from the looks of it, he puts something away.

"You dare order me?" The man growls, making my hairs stand on edge.

"You dare sneak into a woman's room?" I spit, walking towards the figure.

He laughs sardonically, mockingly at me. It makes my blood boil. "You have no idea what I dare? What do you plan to do if you get to me, little girl? Stab me with your dagger?"

"If I have to... Yes." I respond, moving towards him.

As I make my way closer, I get a better view of the man. He is tall. Much taller than I am and muscular as well. If I turn my back on him, he can probably throw me over his shoulder and take me away with him. He tilts his head, studying me as I stop a steps away from him. He hits my dagger out of my hand and it clatters to the floor a meter away from me but I don't dare to take my eyes off him. I frown, studying him. His hands are down by his side and yet he managed to hit my dagger from my hands?

"What now? Hm?" He questions.

"How did you..."

"No backup plans for the spoiled princess?" He mocks me once more.

That's it. I turn, lunging for the dagger. Grabbing it by the hilt, I spin and turn to face him once more. He hasn't moved an inch. Who is this man? How is he so confident?

"Keep your little prick, if it makes you feel better, it won't stop me." He growls.

"Stop you from what?" I ask.

"For why I'm here." He steps closer to me, his head tilting. Something about his demeanor changes. "Why were you crying?"

Instead of back away from him, I walk towards him and press the dagger onto his chest. It's not enough pressure to break skin but if he moves, he will feel it. I try my best to nibble my bottom lip. It's a nasty habit I have when I am anxious or thinking. His question has thrown me off slightly but I know better. I need to continue to appear confident. The moment my act falls apart is the moment he will know he has won.