Page 78 of Malcolm

“After she did it, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had met Lanias earlier or known what I could do. I could’ve helped her. If only I’d accepted myself for my weirdness. I could have saved her somehow,” her voice grew thick with unshed tears. “Some way I could have protected her from loneliness. But now I don’t know if those memories are all mine.”

Confused, he pulled back and looked down at her. “Explain.”

She looked up at him now with regret: “The core of me is Eliza, which is the source of my Magic, but there are others with me now.” Her eyes brightened to a white color: “Their memories are here. One of a man named Ivan. Even though I’ve never met him, I know part of me loved him.”

“What happened to him?”

She pulled away from him, giving him her back.

“He died when they were in school. He got drunk and drove his car into a truck. He was someone she loved more than life itself; with her dying breath, she called for him.” Eliza said as she lifted the pale hand, “She loved him so much, and yet,” she sighed.

Malcolm felt like the despair in her voice stabbed him, especially since it was for another man. He knew she had no control over it, but his jealousy was stirred, nonetheless.

Eliza should only sound like that for him. Lowering his gaze, he quickly hid his emotions and suppressed the wretched envy filling him.

Eliza continued speaking, clueless to the jealous Malcolm behind her. “I feel her despair, the clinging feeling of knowing the one you loved is gone from this world, and there is nothing you can do to bring them back.”

Malcolm wanted to be the one who brought her comfort, but he felt as if his feet were stuck to the ground.

Her expression morphed, turning cold and emotionless. “I’m not her, though, not completely. There are other memories of battles and blood.” Her eyes narrowed. "This land is old, but in my mind's eyes, I see it before this time and this place.”

Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes. “The wind is even familiar,” she reopened her eyes and looked at Malcolm. “I am the old her and not. She is here but also gone.” She reached up and placed a hand over her heart. “Those I killed are within me; a piece of their magic rests here. I’m the home for the forgotten and lost.”

Malcolm shuddered at the thought of what her words meant and how lucky he was that she’d managed to keep her sanity. Carrying other souls could damage one’s mind.

She stepped towards him, and the wind whipped up, lifting her hair and dress hem. “I’ve spent more than enough time being afraid of what is to come.” Her skin began to glow, and herhair became moon white. The script on her skin began to move: “This is me completely.” Her voice became soft while the volume increased. “Do you still desire me?”

He didn’t move.

Eliza's expressions were as calm as the surface of a lake. Power fell from her, causing changes in the air and earth. At her feet, the grass moved, and blossoms of ice blue sprouted. The sky above shifted, and the moon seemed to grow brighter.

Malcolm ignored her awesome show of power and met her stare head-on, seeing the truth in those deep, troubled eyes.

Fear of being rejected.

Her fear was his own.

How often had he feared she’d learn about his true nature and forsake him? She was a witch. The human world was her origin, yet he’d brought her to his land. He’d selfishly brought her with him to become his mate because of his fear of loneliness and the yawning abyss that had awaited his fall.

He took a step towards her. “I brought you here,” he said, taking another step. “I couldn’t see this world without you.”

She looked up at him when he stood a hand’s length away from her. “Even if I could destroy everything?”

“I would have everything destroyed before I lost you,” he said, reaching up and grasping the end of her moonlit hair, bringing it up to his lips. I claimed you, and that means I’m yours wholly.”

With no sound, the power that buzzed under her skin slowly melted, her hair returning to the dark brown, and her eyes bleeding a roasted toffee color he loved. The wind slowed as tears fell from her eyes. “I will be why they come to your door,” she whispered.

“That may be, but I willingly will fight not only my brothers but the world for you.” Letting go of her hair, he cupped her cheeks. “You are a perfect reason to fight for.”

She looked up at him as if to peer into his soul. “Malcolm?”

“Yes, love?” he said, lowering his head.

“Kiss me.”

“Gladly.”

His lips took her tenderly, the brush of his nose against hers.

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