by Amira Rain
Several women came up with a desperate plan to kidnap a woman from the village of Clearwater, a woman named Hannah that apparently no one liked, and toss her in the lake to become a Form, beating Warren to the punch. However, the plan was abandoned after Melody had given these women a stern talk, using words like cruelty, and murder, and sick.
The day after this horrible murder plot unraveled, Hugh took me out for a walk along the beach, eventually hinting that just because Warren had refused his offer, that didn’t mean that he still couldn’t do what he’d volunteered to do.
Curling my toes in the warm, comforting sand with each slow step we took, I looked over at him, wondering if he meant what I thought he did. “Do you mean that you’re thinking about going into the lake anyway, without Warren’s permission?”
Hugh just shrugged, and I came to a stop, grabbing his sleeve to stop him, too. “Hugh, please, please don’t. I don’t want Warren to make the sacrifice, but I don’t want you to, either. You’re like the nice, loving father that I never had, and I care about you. A lot. I don’t want you to turn into a Form. There’s just got to be another way... something that no one’s thought about yet. And we’ve still got some time. So, please. Promise me you won’t do this.”
He shrugged again. “All right. But I just want to let you know... all you have to do is say the word. Chief Knight’s not the only one around here who feels duty-bound to protect the ones he loves. See, some of us feel duty-bound to protect their neighbors, their chief, their wife, and the young woman they’ve grown to love like the daughter they never had.”
I was suddenly overcome by a pretty strong sniffling fit, and Hugh wiped away my tears with his thumb, something my own father had never done, then grabbed my hand and began leading me down the beach, telling me that we were only going to talk about happy things, like some children playing nearby in the shallows with their mothers, for the rest of our walk.
In contrast to Hugh, Dalton confessed to me that while his offer had been genuine, he’d been deeply relieved that Warren hadn’t taken him up on it, because he wasn’t sure if he would have been able to go through with it. I understood, and I asked him if there wasn’t any other way he could think of to stop the island wormhole from closing.
“Just, any other way that doesn’t involve someone having to become a Form to ‘plug’ the lake. Any other way involving science or technology, maybe, or anything else we can think of. Like, what are we missing, here? We just have to think... just brainstorm. Like, what if we tried to put some kind of a ‘cap’ over the lake? Maybe something made of cement, or heavy wood, or—”
“I’m so sorry, Ellie, but that just won’t work. That’s just not the way our father designed the lake. The only way to avoid the island self-destructing is to ‘plug’ the lake with another Form. That’s the only thing that can be done.”
We had a variation of this conversation at least once a day, every day. I began feeling as if my feelings of frustration and powerlessness were driving me half-insane. I developed insomnia. I couldn’t eat more than a few bites of food at a time.
I needed to see Warren. I needed to try to talk him out of his choice. I needed to do something. All I knew was that I needed to see him, and I needed him to look me in the eyes, something he still hadn’t done since he’d made his choice.
But, a few more days passed, and he still only responded via text: Not yet. So, I took matters into my own hands. I decided to do something that I was sure was underhanded and sneaky, but that I was equally sure would be effective. I decided to stay in my castle during the next quake. After each one, Warren would circle around in dragon form above the beach, checking to see if everyone was all right, and seeming to check, specifically, for me, so I knew I’d be missed if I weren’t there. I wasn’t worried about a quake bringing my castle down on my head, at least, not enough to let that stop me from attempting my plan.
So, when the quake sirens went off three days before Warren was set to go in the lake, I remained in my castle, sitting on the couch. The quake wasn’t that bad, only making my castle tremble on its foundation for mere seconds. As I’d predicted, several minutes later, Warren came charging in the front door, shouting my name.
When he saw me calmly sitting on the couch, he stopped dead in his tracks, coal-gray eyes narrowing. “So, you’re fine. It was just an immature, incredibly dangerous stunt to get me to see you.”
I nodded, gratified to see him finally looking into my eyes. “Yes.”
Jaw clenched, Warren marched over to the couch and pulled me up by the hands, and not exactly roughly, but gripping my small hands in his large ones in a way that could have definitely been described as exceedingly firmly. “How dare you.”
He’d uttered the words in a near-whisper, through gritted teeth, and in a voice that shook with what I could only guess was rage.
Shocked, because I didn’t think my little “stunt” had been that egregious, I just sputtered for a long moment before I could form words. “Well... well, most of the quakes have been pretty minor, and I just figured that—”
“How dare you make me look you in the eyes again.”
He fell silent, breathing heavily, and I noticed that his hands were trembling just slightly. When he spoke again, it was in a husky voice thick with emotion. “I was only planning to see you the morning that I left, so that I wouldn’t have to spend much time living with the pain that I knew looking into your eyes would cause. And now you’ve made me... you’ve made me...”
He suddenly pulled his hands from mine and moved them to cradle my face. And then he kissed me, and not just a peck, either, but a powerful, slow, hungry kiss that left me nearly breathless when he pulled away after at least a minute, breathless, and more than a bit turned on, that is. The sensation of him probing my lips apart with his tongue, and then the sensation of him thrusting his tongue against my own, had actually already made me slick down below, I could feel. Also, my nipples had stiffened and were now aching, as was some tight, uncomfortable spot deep within my lower belly.
Even in the midst of our strain and troubles, or maybe because of them, I wanted Warren badly, maybe even more than I’d ever wanted him before, which was saying something. And, just judging by the feel of something already long, thick, and rock-hard pressing against my front, he wanted me badly, too.
“Pick me up and take me into my bedroom, Warren. Please.”
I expected him to fight me on this, protesting that we shouldn’t spend any further time together, or at least hesitate, but he didn’t. Now kneading my well-rounded rear over my shorts with a low growl rumbling his in chiseled chest, he seemed to be possibly past the point of declining my request.
I was right. After giving me another passionate, hungry kiss, sliding his hands beneath my shorts and underwear to caress my bare rear, he scooped me up and carried me into my bedroom, planting slow kisses along the length of my throat the entire way, making me sigh. As soon as we reached the bedroom, he put me down and we practically ripped each other’s clothes off, our hands just as eager and hungry as our mouths had been but then, the pace got slower, much slower, to my agony and ecstasy at the same time.
*
THE FINAL CHAPTER
Warm, golden, late afternoon sunshine filled my bedroom. The windows were open with curtains drawn back, though tall hibiscus bushes with bright red blooms just a short distance beyond them provided privacy from anyone who might happen to walk by on the flagstone walkway in front of the castles. The scene was perfect, and I didn’t want to wait a second longer to make love, but with a slant of sunlight illuminating his handsome face, Warren drew back to survey my now-naked form, inhaling sharply as he did so.
“Good God, Ellie. I could never get sick of your perfection. Not in a thousand years.”
Though my figure was nice, I supposed, and there were certainly a few features I really liked about it, it definitely wasn’t perfect, but it never failed to give me a little thrill that Warren seemed to think it was. I a
lways thought that he must be looking at it through a different lens than I always did. No other boyfriend had ever called my body perfect before.
At the same time as Warren was admiring my body, I admired his, from his broad, muscular shoulders down to his long, powerful thighs, and everything in between. And maybe especially what was in between. If anything was perfect between the two of us, it was his large, long, seemingly ever-hard manhood. Pointing nearly straight at the ceiling, with a trimmed halo of dark, curly hair around it, it seemed to me almost like a work of art. A sculptor of erotic statues couldn’t have created anything more flawless.
After I’d curled my hand around the shaft, now panting with desire, Warren pulled me close with a groan, and then began to touch me as well. He alternated sliding two slightly curled fingers in and out of my slickness, moving them with exquisite slowness, with periodic stroking of my most sensitive spot, making me moan. After a short while, I could hardly take it anymore. I needed him inside of me. Nearly incoherent, I said a few words indicating that I wanted to get into bed, and he immediately obliged me, picking me up and carrying me again, even though the distance was only about ten feet.
Once in bed, we both rolled on our sides, facing each other, just naturally seeming to mutually decide on this somewhat unusual position for us even without speaking. I hiked a leg over Warren’s slim hips, and he entered me with a low growl rumbling deep within his chest. Experiencing sudden pleasure so intense I quite nearly almost reached my peak right then, I gasped, closing my eyes. But as Warren began moving in and out of me with long, molasses-slow strokes, one hand gripping my hip, I opened my eyes again, wanting to look deeply into his own eyes now that he was finally willing to look at me.
While we made love, we periodically looked into each other’s eyes for seconds at a time with something unspoken seeming to pass between us. It felt to me like an unspoken conversation about love, loss, and extreme frustration about the situation requiring that someone become a Form, which I knew we were both feeling. I couldn’t, however, continue to look into his eyes when my climax eventually rolled over me in rapid waves. It was too powerful, maybe more powerful a one than I’d ever experienced before. All I could do was bury my face in Warren’s shoulder, crying out, while he drove his thick pole deeper and deeper inside of me with every thrust.
Once he had also experienced what had seemed to be a mind-shattering release, we just rested in embrace, clinging to each other. Bathed in the warm sunlight streaming in through the windows, neither of us spoke at first. The scent of the tropical flowers nearby mingled with the scent of sea salt had been carried into my room by a light breeze, and I breathed it in, content for the first time in a while. But presently, when the sun began to sink, sending shadows creeping across the tapestry-covered stone walls of my bedroom, Warren brought me back down to reality when he broke the silence.
“I just want you to survive and be happy, even if that’s not with me. See, I don’t want to do this. I want you to understand that. I don’t want to do this, but I have to. This is who I am, who I was trained to be in the military. This is whom you’ve fallen in love with. And if I didn’t do what I’m going to, if I allowed someone else to take my place when I’m the leader and protector of this village, I wouldn’t be a man worthy of your love anyway. So, either way, I guess we’ve been doomed since the moment the golem was destroyed.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Don’t say that. Don’t say we’ve been doomed.”
“There are other single men on the island, Ellie, and some of them I know for a fact are men of the highest quality. Some of them I know would probably fall in love with you instantly, just like I think I did, now in hindsight, and—”
“Not one more word. Not one single further word. I don’t want just any man ‘of the highest quality’ I want you. I want you, and who you are, and how you act, and your voice, and your scent, and your kind, gentle heart, and our history together. I want Lieutenant General Chief Warren James Knight. He’s ruined me for happiness with any other man.”
I knew it was true.
With a hank of his thick, dark hair falling over his forehead, Warren had been looking into my eyes the entire time I’d been speaking, but now he shifted his gaze with his own eyes clearly and decidedly pink. They’d also quickly become shiny. Despite the upsetting events of the past several weeks, I’d never seen him get misty before, not even once. He didn’t seem like the type who did so often.
After blinking a few times, rapidly, he cradled my head and guided it down to his chest, where he pressed my cheek against his skin, right above his heart. “Just rest. We’ll talk more later. Just close your eyes and rest.”
I did, though reluctantly, and eventually, I fell asleep. When I awoke, my room was dark, and to my extreme dismay, Warren was gone. I remained in bed, just thinking. Just contemplating the fact that he would be throwing himself into the lake in just a couple of days, that he would be becoming a murderous Form, a twisted, evil version of who he’d been in life.
After a short while, I got out of bed. I knew what I needed to do. I showered, dressed, and forced myself to eat a sandwich just for the fuel, before packing a few flashlights and a bottle of water in a backpack. I was going to go to the lake and test what Dalton had said about the lake being unable to create a new golem out of organic matter like palm fronds. I was also going to test his assertion that the lake wouldn’t make another stone golem so soon after the previous one had been destroyed. I trusted that Dalton knew his stuff, but I just felt compelled to try a few things out and see the results with my own eyes. I’d always been the type of person who had to see things for myself.
I didn’t know what my specific plan was, except to just go to the lake, throw some debris in, and see what would happen. I knew that if a new golem would be created, it likely wouldn’t do it right then, but I’d at least stick around to see if the lake would do something. Maybe just show me some signs of activity to give me hope that maybe a golem was forming, that it was at least possible.
I knew it wasn’t exactly the brightest idea to go back to the lake alone. However, I didn’t think it was exactly reckless or stupid, either. There weren’t any Forms or other creatures in the lake, obviously, and I didn’t plan on getting close enough to the lake to become one myself. I knew there were supposedly strange currents that could pull a person in as if the currents were actual hands, so I didn’t plan on getting any closer than maybe three or four feet from the water itself. I could toss rocks and debris in the lake from there just fine.
I realized that I could ask someone else to go with me, maybe like Melody, Melissa, or Dalton, but I just had the feeling that somehow, Warren would catch wind of my plans and shut the whole thing down. And Hugh, I knew would forbid me to go to the lake out of concern for my safety. I just knew it. So, I figured it was just best to go alone. I’d probably be faster and stealthier alone anyway. Besides, I’d have my phone on me on the off-off-chance that I got injured, or horribly lost, or just plain spooked, or anything else like that.
If my literal testing of the waters didn’t work, I wasn’t sure what my plan B to try to stop Warren would be. Right then, I couldn’t even think about Hugh’s offer to me to “Just say the word” and he would go in the lake without Warren’s permission. I couldn’t even contemplate it for a second. It was just too painful a thought, so I just had to push it to the back of my mind.
Melissa had left her mountain bike at my house several days earlier, and I decided use it for the same purpose that she did, which was riding on the numerous trails that wound through the jungle. The only difference was that I’d be riding down a specific one that would take me directly back to the lake. It was pretty much a straight shot, from what I’d heard of this particular trail.
Thankfully, it was fully dark out and no one was around when I wheeled Melissa’s bike from the front to the back of my castle, then hopped on and began pedaling it over to the palm-lined, narrow jungle entrance, which was just down
a few castles from my own. Other than the crash of the surf, the only sound I heard was the distant shriek of some tropical bird.
The jungle was dark, and maybe even a little darker and spookier than I’d thought it would be, but a full moon and a clear, velvety sky chock full of stars helped. And once my eyes had adjusted to being inside the jungle, I could actually see fairly well. Or, at least well enough to see the dirt track far enough in front of me that I didn’t accidentally veer off of it.
A pleasant scent of soil and fresh green plants emanated from the jungle floor, and after a while, maybe a half-mile or so, I was breathing it in slowly, steadily, and deeply, lost in thought, actually somewhat relaxed. I only came out of my reverie maybe halfway to the lake when I realized I wasn’t quite sure what I’d do if an earthquake happened to occur while I was in the jungle. I wouldn’t have any shelter from trees possibly falling on me. However, after just a brief slowdown, I resumed pedaling at a fairly fast pace, figuring I’d just have to hope there wouldn’t be an earthquake, and if there was one, that it would be as mild as most of them had been. I’d come too far already to just turn around at this point.
As I’d expected because of what I’d heard about the lake, I smelled it before I saw it. The only thing I could compare it to be the stench surrounding a dead cat I’d discovered under some bushes one day when I’d been around ten. Trying to breathe through my mouth so I wouldn’t gag, I came to a stop, parked Melissa’s bike against a palm, and began creeping over to a still, large-pond-sized body of water I could see just a short distance away.
When I was maybe half-dozen feet away, my tennis shoes squishing in the marshy, rocky soil, I came to a stop, deciding this was as close as I’d get. I could toss in rocks, sticks and fronds from here. I bent to pick up my first rock, and that’s when I heard my name. Not exactly loud, but clear as a bell, coming from somewhere very close behind me. Miles beyond startled, I screamed, and then again, nearly jumping out of my skin, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
