The Oracle's Secret (The Oracle Saga Book 1) by Amber Darke Read Free Book Online

still wrapped tight around me from the jump. We lie there for a second, recovering. Steele’s breath is warm on my neck. He probably saved my life just then.
    ‘Get under, hide!’ Steele orders, letting go of me.
    I scramble to obey since it seems like a good plan. The three of us huddle in the shadows of the trees that line the road. Steele is panting heavily. He’s managed to keep hold of the pack full of supplies.
    ‘Are you ok?’ I ask.
    He nods. ‘Yeah... That was just a lot of spellwork in one go... one to cushion our fall, one to keep the car going, and an illusion to make them think we’re still in it. It won’t last long, but hopefully long enough that they won’t be able to figure out exactly where they lost us.’
    I’m impressed in spite of myself. Sometimes Steele is so gross and annoying that I forget there’s a reason he’s the chief of the Prince’s guards.
    ‘So, what now?’ asks Tarian. ‘How far are we from Sherwood?’
    Steele looks smug. ‘There’s a portal about a mile from here. Almost nobody knows about it. If they’re planning on using the main portal, we could still beat them into the forest.’
    ‘Well then, what are we waiting for?’ I ask.
    I stand up, brush myself off, and start walking in the direction Steele points. Maybe if we can get into Sherwood before any of the Northern Prince’s people, we can just retrieve the Lightstone and get out and go home without any more terrifying chases. It’s probably a vain hope but it keeps me going as the three of us walk through the dark towards the portal.

Chapter Seven
    A mile doesn’t sound that much, but turns out it’s a long way across muddy fields in the dark. I stumble a couple of times and pick myself up, blushing, but Steele faceplants right into the mud and, to be honest, that makes me feel a lot better. What can I say, I’m not a perfect person.
    I don’t feel like talking as we walk. Instead I find my mind flickering back to my visions. If I let myself dwell on it for two long I can still feel my stranger’s hands on my skin, the warmth of his breath as he kisses up my collarbone to my neck, the heady taste of his mouth on mine, the strength of his arms enclosing me. It sends pulses of electricity through me, and I know I shouldn’t be thinking about it now when there are so many more important things going on, but it’s dark here and silent, and I’ve spent so many nights in my dark, silent room lying awake thinking about him, trying to figure out who he could be.
    I’ve been preoccupied with my stranger’s identity ever since I first started having these visions, a few months ago. It’s started to turn into a bit of an obsession. I’ve been convinced that I’ve found him a few times and had to talk myself down. I even involved Abigail in an elaborate plot to spill water on the postman to make him take his shirt off so I could see if he had the tattoo. Not surprisingly, he didn’t.
    You’d think someone who’s been having visions of the future since birth would have developed the patience by now to remember that everything that’s foreseen happens in its own time. I have definitely not developed that patience, but I’m trying.
    I peer at Steele and Tarian in the gloom. For instance, both of them have a similar build to my stranger, and a similar lightly tanned skin tone. I could drive myself mad trying to work out if one of them is him - god I hope it isn’t Steele, but then Tarian isn’t much better. But the truth is there are plenty of men around who might be him, and there’s just no way to know until he shows up. I’m trying really hard not to get myself worked up with constant guessing. He’ll come when he’s ready.
    In the meantime, though, I can’t stop thinking about him. Last night’s vision ended too abruptly, cut short by the alarm, but the one a few nights ago... now that was something special. I remember how frantic we were, how desperate I was to feel him inside me, to encompass