The Singer - Page 49

CHAPTERELEVEN

He saw her as soon as he opened his eyes. She was waiting at the edge of the trees with a glorious smile spread across her face.

“You’re happy,” he said.

“Supremely.”

He walked toward her through the mist, and she wrapped her arms around him. He lifted her and swung her around, her joy spreading into his own soul. She nestled her face in his neck, and he could feel her smiling against his skin.

“I understand now,” she said.

“Understand what?”

“That you’re not gone. Not really.”

“Of course not,” he said, smiling. “I’m right here.”

“No, in the other place. When I’m not with you. Even there, you’re not really gone.”

Something tickled the back of his mind. There was something he needed to tell her. Something he desperately needed to share, but it drifted away like the mist that hovered over the ground. Her happiness took over his body, and he laughed.

“I miss this, though,” she said more softly. “In the other place. I miss this.”

“Miss what?”

“Being near you. I miss your smile. Your laugh.”

“You could always make me laugh,” he said. “Even when things were bad, you made me laugh.”

“I’m glad.”

The joy was dimming; he sensed it. Felt it, as if her soul and his were knit together. He didn’t want that. He set her down and held her face in his hands as his lips touched her skin with light, teasing kisses. Soon she was smiling again.

“I can sing now,” she said, almost shyly. “I’m learning.”

“Show me.”

She blushed. “I don’t know…”

“Please?” He sat down on the mossy ground, leaning his back against a tree and pulling her down to straddle his lap. They were face-to-face. He liked this. Her eyes met his, and she couldn’t hide what she felt. She never could if he could see her eyes. Not anymore. Once, she’d hidden from him, but he had conquered her fears. Conquered the shadows that had haunted her. He could sense them again, hovering in the corner of his vision.

“Sing to me,” he whispered. “Reshon. My soul. Show me your secrets.”

She began, halting at first. Her eyes flickered away from his, and he pulled her closer. She laid her head on his shoulder, but he didn’t mind. She could hide in him if it made her brave. She still sang, her voice growing as she wove a story for him. She sang of lonely stars across a black sky. Of a great circle divided. Souls reached toward each other but slipped away. And as she sang, he could see it, see the circle in his mind. He saw the sun and moon rising as one, and the stars beat against the sky.

Then her song changed, and his heart ached. There were no words, only a barely audible whisper of longing that spread along his skin. The vision in his mind changed, and he saw them in another place and another time.

“You’re so beautiful. Please, Ava…”

Ava.

She smiled and hid under the sheet as he turned the lens on her. “No! No pictures of me.”

“Just a few. It’s only fair. You’re constantly taking pictures of me. Don’t deny it,” he said when she started to protest. “I catch you all the time. I just don’t say anything about it.”

“Do you mind?”

“Do you need to take pictures of me?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t mind.”

Ava, he mouthed silently.

He opened his eyes and looked down at the woman in his arms, brushing her hair to the side. Her skin was glowing with the mating marks he’d placed there. His arms wrapped around her back as her song drifted into a soft hum. He felt it, spreading over his body, and as he held her, he saw the silver talesm start to glow on his wrist. Then a faint shimmer began on the bare skin above the talesm he’d inked.

The marks crawled and spread, as if an invisible hand wrote upon him.

“Ava,” he said, his arms tightening.

“Hmm?” She stopped humming, looked up, and the spell was broken. “What did you call me?”

Tags: Elizabeth Hunter Paranormal
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