by Jamie Magee
I could see a place in my mind that looked like the palace, at least the dark, original structure, the passageways. I felt her there. The memory was rich. In my soul, I felt a possessiveness, one that was stronger than the one I had today, and I could not understand why. It was almost like I wanted to protect her and someone or something else but was certain I would fail.
My mother’s words were getting to me. I had never reasoned that one of my past lives had indeed occurred in Esterious, but right now, looking back at this dream I could swear it had. At one time, I was an original Blakeshire.
“Man of many words,” she said, pulling me from my thoughts. Her eyes were hooded; she was barely staying awake at this point. I continued to let my fingertips outline her beautiful image. Underneath my touch, I could see the faintest glow of light. I didn’t know if I was imagining it or not, but I wanted to believe I was giving her peace and rest right now, just as I had the night before when that same glow was present.
“Glass boat,” I said to myself as I grasped that memory a little tighter. She was there. In that original life. I was certain. But I was still missing a huge, vital part of that dream.
“A what?” she murmured.
“I remember a glass boat, the bottom of it anyway.” Before I could censor my words, I described what I was seeing in my thoughts. “...lost passage, dark water, a few sea creatures that were oversized.”
She slowly opened her eyes. “Even if I didn’t fear water, I would seriously think that going in the ocean in a boat made of glass would be a bit reckless.”
I laughed under my breath. “I don’t recall the reasons…I just know it ended badly.”
“How are you sure that that was me and not her?” she asked, clearly seeing into my mind.
Creator help me, I was really getting weary of hearing Willow’s name or the mention of her. She had become a weapon that Madison Marie wielded without thought. Something Willow didn’t deserve.
“Because I called you by your name.”
She furrowed her brow.
I leaned closer to her, only allowing a few inches to divide us. “You cannot stand it when a boy calls a girl by a name that does not belong to her. You take it as an insult. In some way, you think they do that simply so they will not accidentally call them by the wrong name. Plays into the heated jealousy that you and I share.”
“True, but you kinda lost me.”
“Love; I called Willow that when she crossed my path, and she liked it.” Before she could move away from me, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her against me. “Anytime my mind was opened—or soul, rather—and the visions showed me calling a girl ‘love,’ I knew it would end in slaughter, that the two of us would die within a very short window of time. I hated those visions. They made me sick. As if my soul knew I needed a reprieve, another story would play out, and in that story I never called that stunning woman at my side love; I called her by her given name because that was what she demanded. Wanted.”
“You can glare at me for saying this, but would the fact that she let you call her that in this life not be a clue to you that she was not me?”
“It was. But how was I to know there was another girl with your image that had a past with me? In my mind, I was trying to move on to the next life so I could be with the girl that demanded that I walk a tight line, that I never blur the lines of truth.”
“So that is why you so willingly chose to lay down your life? You were testing her?”
“No.” My eyes moved across her curious expression, hearing Zander’s one-word advice in my mind: honesty. “I laid down my life for my people.”
“You do love them,” she said, almost to herself.
“They need to be saved, Madison Marie Blair; one way or another, they need to be saved.”
She believed me. A smile spread across her face.
“You’ll find the way,” she promised.
“We. We will find it.”
“I’d smother in that palace.”
“What does the palace have to do with us saving them?”
“The ‘us’ was you and Willow days ago.”
“No, it was me, Willow, Landen, and the entire dimension of Chara.”
“True.” She reached to mirror my gentle caress. When her fingertips reached my lips, I sighed.
“I’ve been haunted by a phobia, an image, and now that I have no fear I want to end that.”
“What image?” I swore I’d stop at nothing to slaughter whatever had hurt her in the past.
“A woman, I think. She scared me away from water when I was a girl…I saw her again when I came to save you. In the paintings.” She let out a breath. “If she was to trying to keep me away from you, then I have no choice but to believe that she is trying to keep me away from something just as sacred.”
My entire body relaxed, and naturally, with a careful ease I leaned in to let my lips meet hers.
~Madison~
My soul exploded, and I could swear that my very being was reaching for him to come closer. The scent of roses filled the room as his warm tongue reached for mine and I tasted the sweet, powerful flavor of mint. That flavor was fast becoming an addiction; one that I knew no matter how obsessed I became with would never grow old.
Gently, he caressed my hair with the palm of his hand as his lips danced with mine. Every cell in my body was on fire; with the simplest gesture, he could make my heart race, my core clench, and my breath cease.
My hand reached for his arm and pulled it around me as I edged closer, taking control of this rush. I felt the power behind his kiss intensify, the warmth of his skin under his shirt. Without even thinking about it, I pushed the button-up shirt off his shoulders. He rolled on top of me, giving me permission to take it off his broad shoulders.
As his lips traveled down my jaw, then my neck, he braced his arm by my head. For some jacked-up reason, I opened my eyes—and when I did I saw his tattoo, a dragon wrapped around a willow tree. My body tensed, and he noticed immediately, stopping his pursuit. Slowly, his eyes rose from the rim of my shirt and followed my stare. I had killed the moment with one glance.
He rolled to his back, stared at the ceiling, and his jaw flinched in anger.
“I’ll get over it one day,” I uttered nervously, hating how cold I felt all of a sudden; the room went from a thousand degrees to twenty below zero in an instant.
“Madison Marie. I don’t want you to get over this tattoo.”
That statement made me feel so sick that I could barely breathe.
Chapter Five
~Drake~
She stiffly rose from the bed. Honesty was not my friend at this moment, but I was about to make it a servant. We needed to bury this hatchet one way or another.
I reached for her wrist. “When are you going to stop running from me?”
Tears burned in her eyes as she turned away from me and let her legs fall to the side of the bed.
I pulled myself up on the bed and moved closer to her. Before she found the courage to run, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her between my legs.
She was stiff and refused to comply easily, but I moved her with little effort.
My tattoo was now squarely in her face. She held her eyes tightly closed as her body trembled in my embrace. I lowered my lips to just behind her ear, knowing that spot on her body was one of many that clearly drove her wild when touched.
“Ask me why,” I whispered in my dark, kingly tone.
She refused to speak. She couldn’t; she was fighting back tears, something she saw as a weakness—but something I saw as a breakthrough. They meant she gave a damn.
As my hands moved across her arms, that glow I saw before was more defined. I wanted to believe it was her soul reaching for mine. The involuntary sigh that escaped her lips told me she felt my touch just as deeply as I felt hers.
“Madison Marie,” I breathed.
“Why?” she said with a quiver full of every emotion I craved to feel, every emot
ion that told me her soul was made of mine.
I felt my body lose some, but not all, of its tension. We still had a long way to go. “My first...my first everything…was under a willow tree,” I confessed.
She tensed, leading me to believe that by some stroke of luck or favor from the Creator Himself she had dreams that told her that that was the truth. That it really was her that stole my heart a million times over.
With a trembling hand, she reached for the tattoo which was set on the inside of my arm and traced the tree and the dragon that was wrapped around it.
“Her name is not in my skin…those lost moments are,” I said against her neck before letting my lips kiss that tender skin.
She let out another breathy sigh; the sound was heaven to me. If fate was cruel and I discovered that she was not the girl I was searching for, there would be nothing left of me. I needed her to be real, for her to be the one I’d been yearning to hold again.
“I have been fooled so many times, and now those ploys are driving you away before you even get a chance to know me,” I confessed.
“I know you,” she said under her breath.
Not the promise I wanted.
“I’m going to cover this.”
“No,” she said, grasping my arm around her. “I believe you. I really do.”
“Do you want to know what terrifies me?” I said as I held her waist tighter.
She leaned her head back on my shoulder and stared into my eyes, clearly questioning if I could even feel the emotion of fear after what I’d lived through.
My hand rested on her neck. Her heart was hammering. “When I figured out her name was Willow, I took it as a sign. I tested Willow with every phrase I knew, and every once in a while she would almost have me convinced—that someone had blinded and spelled her against me.”
My hand tenderly moved down her neck until I reached the warm flesh above her heart. She trembled, and I went to pull away, but that near silent moan that left her lips gave me the courage to keep my hand exactly where I wanted it. “I’m terrified that you are going to vanish from my sight. I have tested you far more than you think you have tested me. That is why I have no choice but to be honest with you. To be blunt. I know you. I know that you will run from me if you manage to find any fault within my soul.” I let out a weary breath as my hand pressed against her chest. “I need this to be real. I need you to be real.”
“The only reason…the reason I fight this…is to keep you safe.”
My brow furrowed to question her.
“In some small way, I agree with the charade that you are trying to keep up with Willow for the sake of that ghost. I agree because the moment we decide to realize what’s between us, something sinister is going to plot to rip us apart.”
And there it was. The ugly truth. She feared that something would take me from her. I would be damned if I couldn’t swear that would not happen. Hell, I had all but been promised by Zander himself that I would not rule my kingdom, that my blood would. A reasonable man would walk away now and spare her from that pain, but I’m not reasonable. I’m starved for her.
“Decide to,” I nearly bit out, but it sounded softer because it was under my breath. She had to see that she was only a breath away from making me believe that she was who I thought she was. Dare I say, if she was, I would die a happy man knowing that I had held her in my arms at least once.
She glanced away, trying to hide her emotions from me. I had pushed her too far tonight. We were exhausted, and if I didn’t shut up now, I would honestly confess what Zander had all but promised me.
I reached for the lamp and turned it off, then adjusted us so that she was cradled in the cage of my arms. My hand rested above her heart as I held her. I could feel it pounding against my skin, which brought a smile to my face. Her body was reacting to me; her soul could not be far behind.
“Sooner or later, you are going to have to let me in, Madison Marie,” I said quietly into the darkness, which caused her heartbeat to hammer even faster. I breathed another smile to life, just before I kissed her temple and settled into a deep sleep.
~Madison~
I didn’t sleep. I stayed wide-eyed for hours. Thinking. Obsessing. Thinking over every word he ever spoke to me, every broken memory or dream that I had of the two of us. I knew if I didn’t get my head on straight, I was going to push him away. That he had been hurt too often by too many people that he trusted; so hurt that one more blow to his fragile heart would end him. Which meant the people he adored, his kingdom, would lose the one man that would rule them with an honest heart, the one man that would raise them above the torment that they had endured.
I made up my mind that even if I closed my eyes tonight and woke up in the hell that I had lived through just yesterday, even if fear were the only emotion I was forced to feel, I would face it. I was going to figure out who that woman was that haunted me my entire life, what secret—for better or worse—she was keeping me away from.
I was going to figure out who every single traitor in that kingdom was and personally ensure that I was responsible for the last breath that left their vessels. I was going to figure out what the seven deadly emotions were and what or if that had anything to do with me. I was going to protect this boy I loved. I may not have the courage to tell him any of this, but sometimes…actions speak louder than words.
Somewhere in the night, I moved out of his arms. I found a black sharpie in my bag.
I was a bit of an eccentric artist, meaning that sitting in front of a canvas poetically painting an image while music softly played in the background was not my style. When I created, really created, I used nearly every inch of my body. It was messy and consuming, so much so that no one had ever once witnessed the act. Well, maybe my mother, but I wasn’t counting her in the ‘anyone’ category simply because it had been her idea originally that I express myself that way.
Around others, around my friends, I sketched, drew like a proper artist—but in my mind that was very basic.
Right now I was craving some erratic release, but I doubted Olivia would care for me to redecorate her home. So, I opted to use Drake as a canvas; his arm anyway.
He had to have been exhausted simply because as I adjusted his arm so I could see my project, he never moved, didn’t even bother to furrow his brow.
I didn’t have words before when he explained this tattoo to me. The grief I could feel coming from him was too much to handle at the moment. Now I wanted to say what I couldn’t before.
This tattoo was an elaborate willow tree, one that was identical to the ones that we could both remember. Around it, a very detailed dragon was clinging to the branches, making it seem as if it were both protecting that memory and finding shelter within that lost moment.
Along the base of the tree in the most elegant script I could manage I wrote: first, last, forever. Along the branches that moved in every direction I wrote my name, and every name I could remember from my past lives.
I grinned when my work was done. For a split second, I thought about washing off my artwork—it would be humiliating if he caught me doing this, and just as bad when he saw it in the morning. Just as I decided that this was doing nothing but toying with his mind and that I’d crossed a line that didn’t need to be crossed, he pulled his arm away and firmly placed it against his chest.
His brow furrowed. “Madison…”
I swallowed nervously and waited for the humiliation to begin, but he never stirred after that.
I stayed still as a statue, watching him in the dim light. He would flinch every now and again. More often than not, a sultry smile would come to the corners of his lips. When I focused, I could see flashes of what he was dreaming about. Every flash produced an image of me. Heat absorbed my skin as I saw how real, how vivid, and how sensual his dreams were. It was almost like he had taken our past and merged it with some as of yet unclaimed future.
Sure that he was deep in REM sleep, I leaned closer and in his ear whispered, “I d
o love you, Drake Blakeshire. I’m going to fight for you. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”
Right about then, the heavy scent of mint filled the air. It was so strong that it was more of a deep peppermint aroma. I breathed in, knowing it wasn’t coming from Drake. That was when I felt a weighted stare and glanced to the foot of the bed.
My heart stopped. We were not alone.
Chapter Six
~Madison~
At the foot of the bed was a man; he was young, yet his dominant essence gave me the impression that he was older than time itself. His shoulders were broad and gave way to a sleek warrior build. His eyes—man, those eyes; they were deep gray, but light was shining through them, making them look like dim diamonds. They complimented his dark hair and golden skin. He tilted his head slightly back and stared down at me over his perfectly chiseled profile.
I clenched Drake’s arm, trying to wake him. Even though my nails were all but drawing blood, he didn’t move.
“He’s not going to wake. I have supplied him with dreams. Dreams that are nearly overdue to come true.”
“Who are you?” I said in the toughest voice I could manage. I may not have any fear, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t know when I was outmatched.
“Shall we talk outside?” That wasn’t a question; I was sure of it.
Right as he said that, I vanished from where I was lying and appeared on the balcony outside of the guest room. I abruptly turned around, trying to gain my bearings.
“Vade,” I heard coming from my side.
I glanced to my side to this man that might as well be a god.
“You asked my name, and I answered,” he stated evenly.
“And what are you doing here, Vade?” I asked bleakly, ignoring the cold night that was blanketing my bare shoulders with layer upon layer of chills.
He nodded to the door to the room where Drake was sleeping. “I came to see my son.”
