Read Eternal Eden Page 66

A couple hours and a few miles later, I broke through a wall of trees into a large clearing, glowing from the moon rays saturating every blade of grass and tree bough that encroached into the misshapen oval clearing. A coyote’s song rolled across the landscape, mimicking the sound my sorrow would make if I could cry like that.

  After leaving the stable, I couldn’t go back to the house of the family I would never become a member of. I’d needed the time—not so much to clear my thoughts and come to peace with them—but to accept them. I had to accept that William and I would not be granted a Betrothal, and with that, I had to accept my response and actions to this. I knew he wouldn’t let this be the end of it, that he’d fight with his life so we could be together, so I knew I needed to prepare and fortress my resolve so his barrage wouldn’t crush it.

  That’s when I saw it—a partially framed, two-story home in the very center of the clearing. It was a simple design: rectangular shaped, plenty of squares cut out where windows would one day rest, and the forms for a porch that would wrap around the entire structure. One lone tree stood like a sage, old man on the east side of the home. Despite it barely half-way completed, it was beautiful; a house someone could easily fill with the love and laughter needed to make it into a home.

  I strolled through the illumed field towards the house, unable to smother the curiosity I had to explore it. I stepped over the forms that would one day make the porch, and leapt onto the first floor where the front door would hang—I could see it painted my favorite shade of blue.

  The wood groaned beneath me as I explored the first floor. I couldn’t understand why I didn’t feel like the stranger I should have here, in someone else’s home-to-be; perhaps it was because I wouldn’t have changed a single thing in the shell of the house.

  The open room design, the kitchen facing to the west where dinners would be graced with the gold sunlight of its farewell departure, and the stone fireplace that stood in the center of the living and dining rooms, where it could be enjoyed from either. This was a home designed by someone with a like mind to me.

  I touched the smooth stone fireplace with its quilt made by shades of grey, able to imagine the warmth they would radiate with a fire in its hearth.

  “What do you think?” a voice called out behind me.

  Under any other circumstances, I would have jumped like a jackrabbit from the surprise of it, but given this voice was one that could fill me with nothing but happiness, I grinned before spinning around.

  “You found me,” I stated, struck by the image of William leaning against the doorframe of the front door.

  He smiled. “I could track you if you were within a hundred mile radius. It’s as if everything within me is always looking for you, even when I know where you’re at now.” He pushed off the doorframe and came towards me. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

  “A hundred miles, huh?” I said, trying to sound unimpressed. I took a step back, as he continued to advance. I needed every last precious second to let my resolve take root and grow before he would begin his mission of crushing it. “Let’s put it to the test . . . what do you say to that?” I took another step back, but my back came in contact with the fireplace. There was no more time or room—I closed my eyes and willed a shot of miracle grow on my blooming resolve.

  “Now why would I ever want to do that?” he whispered, taking the last step that positioned his body within inches of mine, but I’d done it in the time I’d stalled—I felt my strength originating from within as if my body had been this quality’s source.

  He inched forward, pushing his body into mine until my back was pressed solidly against the fireplace. He pressed his hands into the fireplace on either side of my head, and lowered his mouth to my ear. “Why would I want you to leave when I’ve got you right here in front of me?”

  My eyes opened into the special forces of his offensive. Those eyes would have crippled my resolve in a single blink two hours ago. Their beauty thrilled me with no lesser degree than they had the first time I’d looked into them and found my purpose.

  “Good point,” I admitted, strategically ducking beneath one of his arms. “I’m not going anywhere.” I made sure I was half-way across the room before I turned back to him. He’d turned around as well, and had his back against the fireplace. He had an amused look of confusion on his face, due to my out-of-character jailbreak from his arms most likely.

  “You never answered my first question,” he reminded.

  My eyes narrowed with confusion.

  “What do you think?” he repeated, opening his folded arms to the house—the pride in his voice indicative of a creator.

  “Another Hayward home?” I asked with awe, thinking of the endless acres I’d crossed to get here.

  He nodded his head, and commenced his advance towards me again. “You never know when another will be needed,” he said lightly. “This one will be nice and central—Joseph and Cora’s place is a couple miles to the east and Nathanial and Abigail’s is about a mile north.” He stopped a couple paces in front of me, letting me have the space I’d demonstrated to him I wanted.

  I viewed the house with new eyes now that I knew what family would inhabit it, and my former admiration of it turned into adoration. “I can already see it,” I said, picturing the home in its completed form.

  “What can you see?” he asked with obvious interest, circling around me.

  I put to words what my eyes were imagining around me. “I see the walls plastered in pictures, bookshelf inserts lining the entire east wall,” I directed, pointing at the living room wall I had in mind. I couldn’t help but notice his eyes glimmer and his brow set in concentration, as if he were making a mental list. “I see four-paned windows, blue shutters, rocking chairs on the west side of the porch, and a window seat for reading right over there.” I pointed at the bay window I had in mind. I could have gone on for hours, but my suggestions were sounding more like bossy demands, so I shut up.

  “Anything else?” he questioned, circling tighter and closing the final space between us with two steps. Innocently enough, he wrapped his arms loosely around me and let his fingers interlace over my back.

  I relented and pressed into him, wrapping my own arms around him tightly. Everything was right again . . . but still somehow wrong. The reminder of the evil I held within stabbed me, reminding me of what was wrong. It terrified me. I didn’t have a clue how I’d manifested whatever life taking qualities flowed from within—so how could I expect to control it? I couldn’t.

  My arms instinctively loosened around him. Never, in all my worst fears these past weeks had I imagined I could harm the man I’d do anything to keep safe.

  “Do you think I’ll be spending anytime here?”  

  “I certainly hope so,” he answered matter-of-factly, tucking his chin over my head.

  I smiled from the blatancy in his voice. “In that case . . . I suppose I can see a state-of-the-art espresso machine on the kitchen counter, a huge garage where I can tinker with my car for hours, and a thousand pictures of you covering my bedroom walls.” I leaned my head back from his chest to look at his thoughtful face. “Or at least that’s what I’d like to imagine.”

  “If you’re imagining . . . can I imagine I’ll be sharing your bedroom with you?” he whispered in a tone that was too dreamy for my heartbeat’s good. It chugged like an out-of-control locomotive.

  I gulped before answering. “Sure.” The word broke, sounding like I was an adolescent boy going through puberty.

  His smile was instant and breath-catching. “Do you want to see what room you should pick for us?”

  Before I had a chance to bob my head once, he tossed me into his arms and was sprinting through the room and up the staircase.

  “In a hurry?” I asked, keeping my eyes closed from the wind cutting across my face from his jet-like speed.

  “It’s never too early to stake one’s claim on their bedroom.” He said with mock solemnity, slowing once we were in
the hall on the second floor. He went to the east end of the hallway and entered the room the hall ran into. He turned sideways to carry me in, and set me down once we were inside. “This is the one you should select for us.”

  He didn’t need to explain why, because despite it being nothing but two-by fours and particle board, the room was ours. The air that flowed freely from the open walls and roof changed when it entered this space, making it special and identifying this place being where we should be together. It was gripping, and I got chills from the aura heavy in the room.

  “I’ll take it,” I whispered.

  “I knew you would,” he said, sounding proud of himself. “Now that we’ve identified our room, where shall we put the bed?”

  My stomach dropped a few floors, but liking this game of make-believe, I surveyed the room with appraising eyes. I surveyed the north wall where a large portion was cut out for where I could see a couple of doors resting that would open to a private balcony. I strolled to the back wall, and turned a couple circles, looking up, down and side to side, before I plopped down on the floor and laid my body out flat.

  I heard him walk towards me. “Right here,” I said with an air of finality, looking up at the night sky through the roof trusses. “There’s a nice view.” He came to a stop beside me, his face blotting out the substandard night sky. “An amazing view,” I edited, admiring the new one.

  He rolled his eyes like I did when he said something I thought was crazy, before his expression became playful. “I think you need a pillow.” He kneeled down at my head, and lifted it gently as he slid his body into position beneath it. He let it come to rest over his stomach.

  “This is both the hardest”—I gently punched against his stomach—“and the nicest pillow I’ve ever had.” I twisted my head to look over at him, and let one of my hands mold against his cheek.

   “It is a great view,” he said, his eyes roaming over the stars above. He was pensive for awhile, looking deep in thought. I left my hand against his face and marveled in its workmanship again. “Would you like to see your star?” he asked, breaking the intimate silence. His eyes grabbed mine.

  “My star?”

  “Yes, the star that was yours before I even knew your name,” he began, looking back to the sky and focusing on one spot above. “Immediately following the first dream I had of you all those years ago, I went outside and laid under a clear night sky like tonight’s, and found the one that shone the brightest to me—the one that screamed its brightness in the surrounding black—the way you had for me.” My eyes stayed fixed on his face, not able to admire anything else. “It’s been a constant companion and reminder to me. Whenever I’d catch myself doubting when and if I’d ever find you, I’d look up and find your star and it would remind me you were out there . . . somewhere, and that I would one day find you,” he finished, smiling at whatever his eyes were positioned on.

  “Come here,” he instructed. “I want to show you.” His hands encouraged my head and upper half up. He lifted his back off the floor and scooted forward until his chest was pressed against my back. Tucking my legs up to my chest, he wrapped his arms around my compacted body before tossing me onto his lap.

  “Lay back on me,” he whispered, unwrapping his arms from me and pulling mine with him as he lay down. He pulled me down on him so I was viewing the sky above from the same position he was, although what lay below me was a million times better than the wood flooring beneath him.

  I straightened out my legs over his, and let my head rest just to the side of his. My body rose and fell in unison with his, and his heart burst against my back with such force it shook my body. Every breath I pulled in was hitching in my lungs, so I stopped breathing all together, choosing to eliminate one unneeded overreaction.

  His left arm wound over my waist, and with his right, he grabbed my hand and lifted it to the sky above. His arm straightened over mine and he pointed my index finger and glided it across the night sky, until he brought it to a stop. “There it is,” he whispered.

  He released my waist and lifted his hand to my head to tilt it closer to his—aligning it with his line of sight. “Do you see it?”

  At the tip of my fingernail, a star sparkled its brilliance without apology. “I see it,” I whispered back, sending my endless thanks to the star that encouraged him through the generations. It was dazzling, and with your attention on it, nothing else screamed its light or dark around it . . . there was only that one spot of brightness in the black universe.

  “Can I pick one out for you?” I asked, already having one in mind.

  “Please do,” he whispered below me, kissing the hairline just behind my ear.

  I repositioned our extended arms so mine was over his, and pointed his index finger above. I penned his finger across the sky, playing connect the dots, until I rested it over the star. “That one,” I whispered.

  He was silent for a few seconds. “But that’s yours,” he stated, sounding confused.

  “I don’t want to be anywhere you’re not,” I whispered. “If that’s my star . . . that’s your star.”

  Before I could revel in the new speed his heart thrust with, he had me on my back and was leaning over me, holding his weight not as carefully as he normally did. His offensive was coming. The look in his eyes numbed my senses and dizziness swirled in my head.

  “Leave with me tonight, Bryn,” he murmured, tilting my chin back and kissing the indentation at the base of my neck. “I’ve got a couple of bags packed and two airline tickets.” His words were muffled from the continued journey his lips made over my collar bone.

  While I’d been wandering the Montana countryside, I knew what he’d been doing the past two hours—preparing for his “run-away” scheme.

  “We could be in Germany in twenty-four hours, and together one minute after that.” I felt his smile against my skin.

  “Germany?” I breathed, my chest jack-hammering against his from the coercion he was immersing me in.

  His mouth lifted slightly from where it had made its way up my neck. “I have a little place there at the base of the Alps. We could be there together, answer to no one, and live for nothing besides each other.” His mouth moved just below my ear. “Leave with me.”

  I wanted to say that word of agreement in the worst way, knowing he wouldn’t let a heartbeat pass before he had me in his arms, taking the first step in our journey together.

  I saw us in Germany, exploring the Alps and sitting beside a fire. I saw us travelling around the world and me assisting him in some make-shift, medical tent in the middle of a South American jungle. I saw going to bed each night beside him, wrapped in his arms and nothing else . . . I saw it all, and I wanted it bad.  But I also saw the Immortal community, on both sides now, not resting until our betrayal was brought to justice, and I would never risk the punishment we’d nearly served two days ago threatening his life every again.

  “Not tonight.” The soul derived words broke my heart, but somewhere within my aching heart, it too knew this was the right decision.

  His face lifted over mine, and I saw him ready to protest, but I was too quick. “I’m not saying ever . . . just not tonight.” I reached for his face, trying to smooth the lines of disappointment. “I want the blessing of your Council—”

  “Well . . . all I want is you. I don’t care about—”

  I put my hand over his mouth, silencing his rebuff. “I want to be with your family, I want to dance an official Ballad of the Betrothed,” I said, raising my brows at him. “I want a Unity ceremony, I want to try to do this the right way . . . and then we can honeymoon in Germany.”

  He didn’t look the least bit appeased or satisfied by my honeymoon admission, because he knew as I did—there would be no blessing of a Council, no Betrothal, and no Unity ceremony. I could never admit to him I was aware of any of this though; he couldn’t suspect I was stalling in order to keep him safe. I had to make this a selfish request, knowing he couldn’t deny
me anything.

  “I want it all,” I admitted, knowing I could never have it. I wanted him, and I wanted him safe—but it seemed impossible to reconcile these two desires. There were two options, and only one I could live with.

  He lowered his face to mine and his expression was serious. “What if we can’t have it all?” His expression was pained, and I knew it was because he was admitting he may not be able to give me everything I wanted. “What if we can only have each other?”

  I had to swallow the pain in my throat before I could answer him. “Let’s compromise—”

  “What if there is no compromise, Bryn?” he interrupted, sounding tired of battling me. “What will you choose if you can only have one or the other  . . . the blessing of the Council or me?”

  “You,” I answered without missing a beat. “I will always choose you.” And I would. I would always put him first, no matter how much it hurt me—even if it meant removing myself from his life so it would never be compromised again. Before my emotions could manifest into the droplets of water wanting to accrue in my eyes, I changed the subject. “Am I really going to have to move in with one of your brothers?”

  His brows squeezed together. “Where did you hear that?”

  Oops . . . I let that slip, but my recovery was out as quick as my slip. “Patrick was running his mouth before he took his present out for a spin,” I said instantly, feeling vile for telling him a lie.

  His eyes drilled into mine, looking into my soul; I’m sure trying to see if I’d heard what I had in the stable tonight. “Yes,” he finally responded, sounding bitter. “You’ll have to move in with one of them tomorrow.”

  My grimace must have been more pronounced than I realized.

  He smiled, and his words came out like the caress of silk on skin. “What if I asked you again to leave with me right now,” he whispered inside my ear, barraging my faltering front line of defense again. “Our flight leaves at six in the morning . . . Germany, anywhere you want . . . no more hiding or pretending.” The secret weapon of his, which would surely lead to my demise if they didn’t cease their battle, positioned at the tip of my chin and slid along the line of my jaw. His breath was warm and intoxicating.

  I didn’t give heed to the words before they spilled from my mouth, “I’d say yes.”

  I heard his breath catch at the same moment my conscious came back to the surface and battered my heart for being so weak. Before he could wrap me up in his arms and have me out the door, where I knew there would be no going back, I recovered. “But I know you wouldn’t ask me again, because you love me enough to give my way a try first,” I finished, looking pointedly into his face once his lips drifted up the side of my neck.

  His eyes narrowed from the predicament I’d just put him in. “You are as cunning as I am . . . you’re a worthy advisory,” he admitted, looking both proud and miffed.

  “You have my word that we will try it your way first . . . but,” he said, cautioning me with his eyes. “I want your word, if your way does not work out as we hope it will, that you will agree to mine.”

  I would give him anything, including my life. Just like he could deny me nothing, I could deny him nothing. “You have my word,” I swore to him.

  The seriousness lifted from his face, and was replaced by a familiar expression. “Just because I’ve given you my word to try your way first, doesn’t mean I’m going to let up on my coercion any . . . it’s only going to get worse,” he said, his eyes afire with mischief. “I’ll have you begging to leave in a week,” he promised, and to prove his point, he showed me.

  When I felt certain my sternum would crack from the force of my heart pounding against it from his mouth moving against mine, I surrendered my lips from his still advancing ones. “One day at a time, my love,” I whispered through my irregular breathing.

  He tilted his head back from mine, and his expression was full of warmth. “That’s enough for me . . . for now. But you’re not the only one who wants it all—I do too. I want you every day of forever, Bryn, not just one day at a time. But it’s enough for now,” he repeated, his eyes overflowing with fondness.

  “Now that we’ve got that all straightened out,” I teased, smiling and lifting my head from the floor to return his coercion. My lips polished along his jaw line, making their way to his chin, where I’d release my counterattack on his lips. “Would it be asking too much if I requested a little more coercion before I have to move in with one of your brother’s?” I murmured against his neck. He trembled and sighed at the same time, before lifting back from me.

  His eyebrows rose, looking somewhat appeased, and then the longing in his eyes exploded. “Come here my little temptress.” He pulled me to him, his lips burning beneath mine. “Everything will work out. I’ll make sure of that,” he vowed in the space between our temporarily parted lips.

  Somehow, despite everything, I knew it would too. His vow made my hope explode, knowing William would never give up until we were together.

  But we were together now, and now would be all William and I could ever depend on—and it was enough for me. I’d spend an eternity of nows loving and protecting William Hayward.

  And so we drifted into our eternity together—however bittersweet it would be. The welded, unbreakable bond between us the universe had forged could never be eradicated, despite whatever cruel fate the world had planned for us. I was prepared to fight with my life, to spend the rest of eternity with the man who presently, rested above me, worshipping me with his entire being.

  My eyes found our star, and I smiled, knowing at least somewhere in the universe, we would always be together.

  THE END

  Find out what fate has in store for William and Bryn

  in the second book of the trilogy:

  Fallen Eden

  Coming out in summer 2011.

  Eternal Eden

  by

  Nicole Williams

  Copyright 2011

 
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