“I love him. I have loved him before and I have felt it all along, I know I have.”
She closes her eyes in pain and takes my hand over the table. “Em, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if Alastar is your eternal love from your past life or whatever, why has he treated you the way that he has?”
I stare at her.
She shakes her head. “I maybe could believe in reincarnation, Em, but I can’t believe that a soul mate would push you away and treat you the way he did if he truly loved you. If he knew you and loved you, why did he leave you?” She grabs my hand over the table in sympathy.
I squeeze the hand that is in mine. “He was trying to give me a choice,” I whisper.
She frowns. “From what?”
“He can only find me when I buy this ring and he thought that if I didn’t have the ring than maybe I wouldn’t love him. So he tried to buy it from underneath me.”
She shakes her head. “Can you hear yourself? He was pushing you away. He didn’t want you to have the ring.”
I stare at her.
“If this story is true—” she whispers.
“It is.” I cut her off.
She shakes her head. “Then there is something missing. What hasn’t he told you? Why did he push you away?”
I hesitate and process her words as they slice into my happiness. “I’m marrying him this weekend,” I whisper angrily, she isn’t listening to me at all.
She shakes her head and her eyes fill with sympathy. “No, baby.”
“Come with me.” I angrily wipe the tears from my eyes. “You have been by my side since I was six years old. I need you to be with me on my wedding day.”
“Emerson,” she whispers. “Stop. You can’t marry him. I can’t let you marry him based on some paranormal activity theory.”
“Please,” I beg as I feel a shadow over the table. We look up to see Alastar.
Brielle’s anger ignites. “What are you doing?”
“Hello, Brielle,” he replies.
She stands, her fury unmanageable. “What the hell have you put in her head?”
His face falls. “Nothing. She’s telling you the truth,” he replies.
She taps her head with the palm of her hand. “You are fucking crazy, too.” She stands and takes out her purse and throws some money onto the table.
“Call me when you want to return to reality, Emerson,” she snaps. She glares at Alastar and points her finger at him. “I swear to God, if you touch one hair on her head, you will want to hope you never live again. Because I will fucking kill you in every life myself.”
My eyes drop to the table in despair.
“Are you coming, Emerson?” She growls.
Pain slices through my heart. “Please, Brielle. Stay and listen to us,” I whisper.
“No! I can’t believe this,” she snaps. “I’m calling your parents, Emerson. You have gone too far.” She storms from the restaurant and I drop my head as the tears begin to flow.
* * *
I wait patiently as Alastar opens the door of my princess room. The key turns and he kisses me gently. “Are you okay, my love? You are very quiet.”
I smile. “Now that we are here I am.” It’s Friday and we have arrived at Ashford Castle for our wedding tomorrow. I’m elated, yet heart broken. I desperately wanted Brielle by my side.
Connie, Alastar’s mother, and Thomas are arriving this afternoon to witness our nuptials. It’s a weird feeling, to finally feel so positive of my decision and yet have not one of your family or friends there to witness the most important day of your life. I wish I didn’t tell Brielle. I wish I’d acted like this wasn’t true like we first planned and then told her in twelve months’ time when we tell everyone else and remarry for their sakes.
I thought she could handle the truth. At least, I thought she would try to for me.
Alastar opens the suitcases and immediately begins to unpack while I go to the window and stare out over the view. I get a vision of Alchron standing before me naked, lit only by candlelight, and I get a carnal shiver of appreciation. My eyes instantly flicker to Alastar, and he smirks sexily as if knowing exactly what I am thinking about.
I smirk. “Alchron was the quite the dominant lover.”
He raises a brow and walks over to me. “Aye, and the princess was the perfect submissive.” His tongue slowly sweeps through my mouth and his hand slides down my skirt so that I am standing before him in my panties. I hold my breath as his lips drop to my neck.
“It never gets old,” he whispers.
I smile as I look to the ceiling, his fingers exploring my breasts. “What never gets old?” I ask.
“The feeling of your body under my hands, underneath my body.” He bites me aggressively.
He kisses me again and holds my head the way he wants it, to press my body to his. His hand slips beneath my panties and he slides his fingers through my wet flesh.