Page 55 of Love and Death
Silver vines wrap around perfect, marbled archways as they rise around us like gleaming sentinels. Silk curtains spill from their heights, moved by a gentle breeze that has no source other than my own. A breeze that carries with it the scent of my desire, rich and utterly divine … and yet marked by the desperate pain of longing.
And in the midst of all this, is still the most remarkable beauty of all, the mortal girl.
Out there, I could only imagine. I knew her by touch, by the taste of her light, by the colors of her soul brushed over mine.
In here, I can see her.
The portrait, the full image of her, is almost too much to bear, and yet, I would trade every moment of immortality for it.
She isbeauty.
She lies sleeping upon grass softer than the finest downs, her dark hair pooling around her small frame, skin glowing andalivewith light and energy.
I long to go to her, to pull her into my arms, but I do not. I hardly dare to breathe as I watch her lips tremble, her eyelids flutter, and she begins to awaken to me.
“Hazel.”
Her name is a blessing and a curse upon my lips.
A prayer that cannot be answered.
I am consumed by her.
Hazel.
Myredemption, andmyruin.
Littlemortalone.
My spark.
There is no time left for shadows.
Taking a deep breath, I focus, forcing soft, steady light into every last corner of the garden just before Hazel’s eyes open for me.
I swallow hard, caught off-guard by the very sight of them. By the color of them.
Blue.
A blue deeper than the ocean. Brighter than the stars.
If I could drown in them, I would. And yet, I had always imagined them to be silver. It troubles me that I had guessed incorrectly. I am not often … No, I amnevermistaken in these things.
“Eros?” My name on her lips, to see them form thesound, I nearly lose my self-control. Her voice wavers, uncertainty clinging to her. “Where are we?”
I force an easy smile to my face, pushing aside my troubled thoughts.
“Welcome, my dear girl,” I say in answer, my voice dripping in honey, bowing low to offer her my hand, “to my home away from home. My mind.”
She hesitates, her gaze dropping to stare at my outstretched palm.
I can sense the wariness seeping from her, but I do not take offense. After what it took to get her here, it would be foolish of her not to be wary of me.
“Why am I here?”
Her question surprises me, although I suppose I should have expected it from the real her.
I start to answer her, but as I stare down into a face I never expected to see with my own eyes, I think better of it.
