I drop Jude’s hand, watching helplessly as Jude’s swal owed into the whirl, while I strive to hold on, to straddle two worlds.
My fingers grasping, yearning, reaching for Damen, and though he moves fast, it’s not fast enough to keep our fingers from just barely grazing, the tips lightly brushing as our gaze briefly meets. And the next thing I know, I can’t stop it.
I’m yanked out of his reach.
Lost in the swirl.
Hurtling into an unknown place—into an unknown time.
Aware that Damen is here—somewhere—but unable to find him.
Already making the trip back.
Way back.
Back to the very beginning.
thirteen
“Adelina! ”
The voice that cal s to me is hushed, whispered, taking great care to be heard only by me.
“Adelina, my sweet, please tel me you have come for me!”
I move away from the corner, out of the darkness and into the fading stream of light just beyond. Fighting to keep my tone calm, stoic, I say, “I have come for you, Alrik.” Bowing low before him, my hands buried in the folds of my skirt so he can’t see them shake, desperate to hide my excitement, to appear respectable, ladylike, sedate.
But the moment I lift my head, the moment I see the way his dark brown eyes light on mine, his gaze partial y obscured by the tumble of dark waves that fal past his heavy fringe of lashes, past his straight nose, along the curving angle of his beautiful y sculpted cheekbone—when I see the way his long, lean form fil s the doorway—my face betrays me.
My gaze sparks, my cheeks flush, and my lips begin to quiver and curl, unable to contain the surge of extreme pleasure and joy the mere sight of him brings.
And if his expression is anything to judge by, then he clearly feels the same way. I can tel by the way he pauses in the threshold, the way he lifts his torch high, al owing the light to spil over me.
Al owing his eyes to devour me.
I can tel by the way his breath grows labored, the way his jaw tightens, the way his gaze clouds with desire—we bear the same effect on each other.
And when he closes the space between us in a handful of steps and hugs me tightly to him, when he covers my face with his kiss, his lips capturing mine, fusing, melding, exploring—al of my doubts slip away. I focus only on this.
Here.
Now.
My entire world shrinking until nothing else exists.
Nothing other than the crush of his lips, the warmth of his skin, and the swel of tingle and heat that always manages to find me whenever he’s near.
Refusing to think about a future that can never be ours.
Refusing to think about such cruel things as class and position and obligation and the strange game of chance that birth order brings.
Refusing to think about the fact that despite the depth of our love, we can never belong to each other in the way that we want. A
truth that was decided long before we had a chance to meet, our futures determined by others, not us.
Despite the fact that he loves me and I him—we wil never marry.
Can’t marry.