Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (30 page)

CHAPTER IX

DARKENED SKIES

E
lissa Cassandra Duncan

            
 
I’m quite sore…. down… there, and each step Alex’s horse takes is an aching reminder where he has been. Oh, God! I’ve had all manner of sexual acts with this man within the last twenty-four hours, and I’m completely drawn to him.
My sex is deliciously sore. My sex is sore. My sex is sore… Because Alex Pella had claimed me for his own.
I keep repeating this in my head like a mantra. He made sure I was very sore to remind me of him. I’ve known him for two measly days and I’m more attached to him than any one person I’ve known all my life! If there was a formula to alter my life irrevocably, it’s been applied all into yesterday’s events. And now, I’ve come to care for and like this man more than I cared for anyone in my life. I more than like him. I rack my brain to try to understand whether it’s just the sex or something much deeper. Realization dawns on me. Oh, God! This is
Colpo di fulmine
or
Yıldırım aşkı
! This is the kind of love that hits like a thunderbolt as Italians and the Turks would have called it, brands you right in your soul, making you belong to someone irrevocably. I steal a glance at him. The jolt of energy hits and courses through my veins as if he touched me. I slowly exhale a breath. My heart and soul belongs to him.

But, now that I have all
the evidence to believe that my life is in danger, I’d be putting Alex’s and his men’s lives in harm’s way. Even the idea of putting him in danger is repulsive to me. I can’t even put someone I dislike in danger, how can I put someone I love in danger? In fact, I
have
put them in danger; Anthony nearly died last night because of me and all he was doing was giving me a ride back home. I’m torn, because what I feel for Alex is unlike anything I have felt before. To say that I like him, or even love him in an undefined way would be too simple and crude. Since yesterday, my eyes have been opened to a totally different world and in that world I want him all to myself with an immeasurable intensity.

Yet
do I have the right to be selfish or possessive of him knowing what my presence could cost him? Alex and everyone around him are in clear and present danger because of me. Knowing this fact as clear as the day scares the life out of me. I can’t bear the thought of harm coming to him because of me; I have to distance myself from him, and leave. My burden isn’t his; it would rip me apart if anything happened to him. My eyes are hollow; yet it’s full of determination and grief for what I’m about to do. A tremor goes through my heart and it pulses with an unnamed emotion. If part of loving people is to give things up which I would gladly do, but giving them up…the thought of giving Alex up rips something apart inside my soul. I feel melancholy, maybe madness; the thought of leaving him gives me the anguish of death and a catastrophe all bundled in one. My breath deserts me as if an unseen hand is choking me with all these emotions though we’re outdoors, and the air is crisp. I close my eyes in anguish but firmly make up my mind: It’s tonight or tomorrow then. The thought of never seeing Alex makes me tremble.

             
“Ellie? What’s wrong?” he asks, his eyes fixed on me.

             
I turn my head towards him, and shaking my head, I force a smile, “nothing…” I stutter; my voice is low. “Just a little sore, that’s all,” I murmur. The partial truth seems to make him believe me, but he scans my face for another explanation nonetheless just to be sure. The fleeting expression on his face tells me that he isn’t convinced.

Alex moves his mare ahead of the horse I’m riding, grasping its bridle and commands the horse to halt. “Whoa!” He rubs its head to soothe the startled animal. “
Calm down, boy! Shhhh… Mitescere Bucephalus…
”
Then he looks up at me after the horse I’m riding stops, and calmly snorts.

             
“Elissa Cassandra Duncan,” he says my name softly as he examines my face. “I wish you to be truthful with me. There is something wrong, and you’re not telling me what it is,” he says focusing the intensity of his scorching gaze. I close my eyes, my lips part in an effort to accommodate my increased breathing, yet still trying to hide my anxiety from him.

“Are you regretting the loss of your virginity?” he asks as he slowly walks his mare to be side by side but backwards with the horse I’m riding; one horse’s head is aligned with the other horse’s behind so he can be face to face with me and his hand slowly caresses my face.

              “No regrets!” I answer opening my eyes. “None…” There is only truth in my words. He shakes his head, unblinking.

             
“What then is worrying you?”

             
“Why do you ask that?” I retort back with a question, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle, looking elsewhere.

             
“How do you feel?” he asks scrutinizing my face.

             
“Quite sore, actually,” I reply feeling the blush creep up to my hairline, but also relieved that he isn’t pursuing the line of questioning he’s started.

             
“I would say I’m sorry, but I don’t want to lie. You don’t know how pleased I am to know that you’re sore. Because every time you move, it will remind you that I was inside you, claiming, making love, fucking…you… Leaving my Nephilim mark in you, so no other Nephilim can claim you without going through me,” he says with a cocky smile.

             
“Alex Pella! You are shameless!” I say completely embarrassed and cover my face with my hands.

             
“I don’t claim to possess such an emotion,” he says gently removing my hands away from my face. “It was your first time. But, I must confess… Knowing you’re a Nephilim and you will heal fast, I made sure you were sore.”

“Why would you do that?” I ask incredulous. I thought he tried to be gentle with me. But then again,
for reasons I can’t even fully comprehend myself, I wanted him,
Alex, and only Alex
to take my virginity and make me sore today.

“Simple. I wanted to linger inside your body and mind a little longer to remind you of my desire, my intense attraction to you,” he says as his thumb traces lines over my bottom lip, “and my bond with you. So, tell me, why do you still want to leave me?” he asks casually as he softly pushes my hair behind my ear, and gently rubs a spot on my earlobe making me feel it’s effects as if he touched my sex. The casualness of his question and the electricity of his touch make me take a minute to register his meaning.

“What do you mean?” I ask in a higher pitch than I intended avoiding eye contract with him, as my breathing increases. How did he know?

“Ellie...” he breathes hoarsely. His voice is packing so much pain in the utterance of my name with longing as if we are miles apart though his knuckles caress my cheek. “I’ve heard all manners of goodbye in all my existence, with or without words,” he says in such a tone that he is beyond reach. He closes his eyes to sharpen his other senses as if he’s listening to my inner voice. He inhales deeply. Both the horses snort and bob their heads simultaneously, but Alex doesn’t even notice. When he opens his eyes again, they’re blazing volcanoes fixed on my face. All of a sudden I feel him try to read my soul if such a thing was possible. His knowing gaze reminds me of Jane Eyre’s Rochester. This look says what Rochester said to Jane Eyre:

“
I read as much in your eye (beware, by-the-bye, what you express with that organ; I am quick at interpreting its language). Then take my word for it, -- I am not a villain: you are not to suppose that -- not to attribute to me any such bad eminence; but, owing, I verily believe, rather to circumstances than to my natural bent, I am a trite commonplace sinner, hackneyed in all the poor petty dissipations with which the rich and worthless try to put on life
.”

Alex looks at me with knowing eyes, and I try to hide my plans of leaving, gazing back at him with bewildered, perplexed eyes. I know I won’t be able to fool him.

“Don’t leave… even after the week. If, what we…” he stops and closes his eyes, “what I,” he continues, “created between us…”

“No, Alex! I was more than willing… I wanted…” I say but he holds his finger up to my lips to silence me gently and gather his thoughts and
speaks as if it’s taking an effort from this articulate man.

“If the physical intensity we have between us is what’s bothering you, I promise to cease it… from my end. It will be one of the hardest things I do, but I…” he says and stops, closes his eyes and waits a long minute with an immensely difficult internal struggle as if I
have presented him with the “Judgment of Solomon.” When he opens his eyes, they’re inscrutable, his jaw clenched and finally his speech changes gears. “You need to be protected. You have serious enemies,” he says having firmly reached to an arduous decision. His voice is resolute, and his face dons an impenetrable shield making it impossible to read what he’s thinking. What I see before me is not Alex, but the personification of primordial valor in the face of an ancient commander of an unconquerable army; one who is ready to face hell at a personal cost. A cold shiver runs through me as if someone just walked over my grave. I have an overwhelming feeling that he’s sacrificing something, but I don’t know what that is. The stance and the look on his face remind me of an unforgiving emperor out of the dusty history books. He couldn’t be any further than the urbane man I met yesterday morning.

“They’re not people; so don’t assume that you can outrun, out-hide, outdo them. They are not bound with human laws, and they’re not destroyed by human weapons. They’re immortals! As you
saw last night,” he says, pulling the bridle back of his mare effectively halting and reprimanding her at the same time. Then he continues, “they can very easily employ and influence humans, as they’ve influenced the woman who gave birth to you… they could even influence a close friend of yours, or a neighbor now that they know who you are.”

“But my uncle and my nanny! They’re not human! They have protected me, and maybe can still protect me…” I say unconvincingly; my voice a whisper at the end. And I regret it immediately remembering my uncle’s words: “
your life does not belong to you!
”

“I have a feeling you don’t want that.”

“No…” I murmur.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because, I want to own my life as much as it is possible. Is it too much to ask? I don’t want to sound like a petulant teenager, because I’m not. Alex, I’ve always been a good girl. Always obeyed the rules, and did what I was told to do because I was told that it was for my own good,” I say pausing. “But in the past three weeks, something changed in me. I don’t have a clue what that is. I’m frightened because as if some dormant side of me is awakening and I have this overwhelming urge that I ought to be in charge of my life, and not readily hand my reins to others!” The vehemence in my voice makes him smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He shakes his head, his eyes softening imperceptibly.

“
Getting help in protecting yourself is not handing the reins over to others. It just means that at the moment, you need assistance. Both Gabriel and Stella can aid in protecting you, but trust me when I say this: No one can protect you better than I can,” his last statement throws me off a little.

“What?” I ask astonished. “Why you? What makes your abilities better than two angels of heaven?”
I have seen his abilities, but I am still unwilling to put him in harms’ way. He is still breakable compared to angels who have existed for eons.

He looks at me with imperturbable, inscrutable eyes, but I can see that his
impenetrable mask is taking all his concentration and effort. When he opens his lips to speak, I can see a flicker, a slip of his mask and what I see is a man in purgatory; consumed in a Hades’ inferno. That single fleeting glimpse alone sears my heart. What is paining him? I want to reach out and soothe his burning soul. It takes a Herculean effort to stop myself. My horse takes a step, but I absently pat his large head as I pull his bridle.

“I knew your father…” he starts, “your. Real. Father.” His words staccato; his mouth is set to a grim line. “He saved your life many times, but your enemies were after him as well.”

“Huh?” a whimper escapes my lips. I’m shocked with his as a matter of fact statement as if he ran this speech in his head many times and it is now escaping in a practiced string. It’s true then. Our meeting was
not
an accident!