by A. K. Koonce
People mill around their huts, laughing, talking, and enjoying the last few rays of sunlight before dusk. The smell of campfire and warm food fills the air.
I lean my chest into her. My hand drifts around her waist, settling on the small of her back, my body desperate to be near hers after avoiding her for so long. Too long.
“Where?” she asks, looking up at me, excitement dazzling her features.
I’m an asshole. I should stop touching her, stop talking to her, stop looking at her altogether. But I can’t help the pull I feel toward her. My body physically wants to be near her, feeding off of the light within her like a food source. I also can’t help the way my heart skips when I see her staring at me, drawing me in with her eyes.
“To Valhalla,” I say, leaning my head against the side of hers and breathing in her soft hair. I’ve had too much to drink. I’m making an ass of myself, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
“I—”
“What is it?” I ask as worry etches her beautiful face.
“I can’t go back there, Remy.”
I search her eyes, trying to find what she isn’t telling me. “Okay,” I say, slowly pulling away from her a bit.
Maybe I misread her look. Maybe she wasn’t looking at me at all. Fuck, maybe I’m too drunk to be allowed to speak right now. I step away from her, realizing I’ve made a stupid mistake.
She places her hand lightly on my arm, stopping me in my tracks with one small touch. Her fingers hesitantly trail across my arm to my chest, hovering against the fabric of my white shirt. Her eyes fixate on her own movements as her fingers drift down to my waist.
Shit, maybe I’m not the only one who’s had too much to drink.
My heart hammers, filling my ear so loudly I can’t even think. My eyes widen as I look to her for guidance on how I should react.
“I want to go with you, just not there,” she says, looking up at me with her innocent eyes.
Innocent.
I play the word on repeat through a loud speaker in my mind, like a chant before a ball game. Innocent, innocent, innocent.
Stop fucking thinking about her innocent body and her innocent mouth that you can’t touch.
“Maybe we should just stay here,” I say, trying to find the sobriety to listen to the voice of reason. I nod at the hundreds of people who surround us as I shove my hands into my pockets, safely away from her.
We should definitely stay right here with the eyes of our community watching to keep me in line.
“We should leave,” she says, pulling my arm.
I stumble after her, kicking up dirt and sand as she leads us away from the watchful eyes of our neighbors. Fuck …
CHAPTER TWELVE
A Beautiful Reminder
Alexandra
His reluctant behavior seems peculiar after he tried so hard to steal me away. It’s like he’s constantly second-guessing himself. What happened to the confident sailor who rejected me the first time we met? His callousness has faded away day by day, replaced by a kindness that makes my heart melt.
I strip my sandals off as soon as the shoreline is in sight. My bare feet sink into the cool, silky sand. The half-moon is high in the sky, lighting our path along the seaside. Waves tumble up the sand to greet our footsteps. The pain that shoots through my skull is drowning so close to the ocean, like the demanding hum of the Island can’t compete with the beauty of the calming water.
Remy is starting to find his composure again; his stride is long but casual as he looks out at the horizon. After a few quiet moments, his hand finds mine and our fingers lace together. My heart strums loudly, coming to life from his warm hand holding mine.
“Can we see the Valhalla skylights from the shore?” I ask him.
Remy looks in the distance ahead of us, searching for the deteriorating castle in the darkness.
“Of course. It’s about a mile walk. Do you want to go?”
“Yes, please,” I say, quickly, wanting badly to see the beautiful colors again.
We take our time walking along the ocean, listening to the waves greet the sand. My life is so different. It’s so simple and so safe in this world. When I’m with Remy, I don’t feel the unsettling energy of the Island. When I’m with him, I can’t think of anything else but us, like we’re the only two people in this strange world.
I search my mind for something witty to say, something I’ve read in the countless books my father gave me in the tower, but nothing is there. My mind is a blank slate of nervous thoughts.
And then I see them, the drifting, unnatural lights illuminating the sky. The cloudy shades of purple, pink, and blue dance across the starry night.
“It’s so beautiful,” I whisper. “Why does no one come here?”
I’d build my own hut right here if I knew how. Living a life of seclusion so close to the heavens. I’ve lived all my life secluded, but I never felt the tranquility this view offers.
“It’s forbidden,” Remy says, taking a seat in the sand. I sit next to him, my brows pinching in confusion at his words. “This side of the Island is restricted.”
“But not for you?” I ask, looking at the dark trees behind us like we may be detained at any moment.
“Felicity could never keep me away from this. It’s too humbling. A reminder that something more is out there. Something bigger than the shitty lives we’ve lived.”
His sad words sink into my chest like a knife. Who was Remy before Resurrection Island? Before he was a Savior? What happened to this beautiful, broken man?
I consider asking him all the questions that swirl my mind, but I don’t. A peaceful look settles into his strong features, the lights reflecting on his face … I could never ruin this place for him despite the eerie feeling the looming castle brings me. His dark hair nearly touches his emerald eyes as he watches the clouds above. He looks every bit the Savior he is in this moment.
“My ego will never come back down if you keep watching me like that, love,” he says, his eyes creasing with a smile as he assesses the stars.
My lips tilt up into a small smile, unable to stop the warm feeling spreading in my chest from his simple words. He’s charming despite the pain he carries. He wears a mask and offers me smiles instead of what he really feels, always concealing his emotions. Just like me.
“I fell in love with this skyline the moment my eyes saw it for what it really was,” I say, leaning back on my hands to look up at the colors staining the stars.
“What do you think it is?” he asks, glancing over at me, his normally brooding eyes filled with nothing but interest.
“I …” I pause, unsure if it’s safe to speak my thoughts here. Remy nods reassuringly. “I think it’s a glimpse of heaven pressing against the surface of this strange world, as a beautiful reminder. It reminds us all of another existence,” I say in a hushed tone, watching him closely for any negative reaction.
His mouth opens slightly like he might correct me or maybe even agree, but he says nothing. He looks away from me for a moment, internally battling his own judgment.
“You’re smarter than I thought you would be.”
My eyebrows raise high. “And you’re not nearly as charming as I thought you might be.”
He laughs loudly, his smile filling his face. His eyes shine in the moonlight, and I can’t help but smile as well.
“I meant it as a compliment, kind of. You’re right; I’m terrible at this.”
“At what?” I ask, tilting my head up at him.
He pauses, his Adam's apple slowly bobbing. He leans into me, his mouth hovering over my ear, causing adrenaline to course through my veins the closer he comes.
“At complimenting women who are sexy, smart, and more confident than myself,” he says in a low voice. His words feather over my skin, making a shiver run across my neck and down my spine.
There’s that word again. Sexy.
My breath catches in my throat as my heart does its best to beat its way right out of my ch
est. I tip my head up slightly, my eyes meeting his. He doesn’t pull away. And I never will. Not from him. My body physically wants to be near him, living off the energy his body feeds into mine.
His eyes seem to look right into me before drifting down to my lips. My eyes close, slipping into my thoughts as his mouth touches mine, his tongue gliding slowly against my own. His hand pushes into my hair at the base of my neck, pulling me closer to him. My palms trail over his chest against the smooth cotton fitted over hard muscle. Our bodies push and pull against each other, like forces colliding.
All my life I’ve never felt as confident as Remy makes me feel. I’ve never felt like a force of nature. Together we’re the same; a little broken and a little unsure of ourselves. With him though, I feel like I’m stronger. Strong enough to change my life and future.
But he’s already done that for me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Three Little Words
Remy
It’s been days since I kissed Alexandra under the stars of Valhalla, and I can still taste her lips on my tongue. I’ve also become one of those people who think about romantic shit like I can still taste her lips on my tongue.
At the chime of midnight, I’m still wide awake, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling. I shouldn’t have kissed her. Fuck, I know I shouldn’t have. She’s too smart for this place. She’s too smart for me. Too good for me. Maybe that’s why I kissed her—to see if she thought she was too good for me.
I knew she wouldn’t look down on me the way everyone in my life always did. Alexandra just isn’t like that. She’s kind and sweet and pure. And that’s why she has to leave.
My mind reels, rehearsing millions of words I might say to Alexandra.
You should leave this place, Alex.
Sounds kind of ominous. It is kind of ominous, I suppose.
I banish you from Resurrection.
Who the hell am I to banish her? That’s exactly the kind of response the Princess of England would give me. Fuck, I’m terrible at this. How am I supposed to stand up to her? I couldn’t even admit I hated oysters this afternoon at lunch. There I fucking was, scarfing them down every time she offered me one from her plate. Where are my balls? I can’t do this!
“Remy?” Alexandra’s voice floats softly into my room as she opens the door.
“Yes.” My voice comes out high pitched and nervous as I try to remember I have the balls to say what needs to be said.
She smiles sweetly at me as she enters my room, my coat draped across her shoulders, a white dress peeking out beneath it. My heart jumps at the simple sight of her wrapped in my coat. She finally wore it.
“I hope it’s all right for me to be here.” Her voice is quiet and disappears into the shadows of the room, slipping into my guilt. I sit up against my pillows, thinking through every word I should say to her.
She looks confused and lost, like she can feel me leaving her. I can feel her fading away from me already.
“Sit down, please.”
She hesitantly sits at the edge of my bed, waiting for an explanation I can’t give her. I hang my arms loosely over my bent knees, trying to find a relaxing spot in this uncomfortable situation I’ve created for us.
“Do you think you’ll stay here, Alexandra?” I ask, speaking to her in a professional manner, the way I would a crew member of my ship.
Her brows pinch together as she watches me, considering my question, and probably my behavior as well.
“I—I don’t know. What shall I return to? A cold, lonely tower? To a family and community that shuns me?”
Her shoulders sag as she recalls her past that wasn’t that long ago. I want to wrap my arms around her to find the normalcy we had hours before. But it’s gone.
“What if I told you things wouldn’t always be that way?” I ask hesitantly.
I shouldn’t tell her this; it’s not how Resurrection works. She’s had more time to consider than anyone ever has; usually people concede quickly. I became a Savior the same day Johnny brought me here. I fought him the night he drifted down onto the ship deck like a ghost falling gracefully from the sky. I treated him as an evil spirit too, earning me the scar lining my neck today. The last mortal scar I ever received.
I know what I lost by coming here. It breaks my heart now, but I didn’t think twice about it at the time. No one told me the life I could have had. No one told me anything. I just knew there wasn’t pain or fear on this island. Not when I first arrived anyway.
“What are you saying, Remy?”
I swallow hard before looking into her curious deep blue eyes.
“You don’t stay a prisoner of the Oceanic tower for the rest of your life. Someone comes for you, they renounce your stepmother as the Queen, and they restore your title as the Queen of England. You marry your rescuer and probably have dozens of heirs.”
And they all lived happily ever after.
Except for me.
I clasp my hands together and rest my elbows on my thighs. The heavy pain in my chest intensifies as I think about what it’ll feel like when she walks away. When she all but runs back to the life I just described.
“Does he love me?” she asks.
Her question catches me off guard, and I realize how important it is to her.
Love.
People would die to be the Queen of England, and she’s worried if her asshole knight loves her or not. Fuck, I don’t know. He might. Judging by his endless list of courtesans, he might love a lot of women.
“I don’t know. I’m sure he could. You’re easy to love, Alexandra.”
She faces me with a look of confusion on her face; brows set low over glistening blue eyes. “Are you saying you love me?” she asks slowly.
The breath is knocked from my lungs. I open my mouth, trying to filter through my flying thoughts, but nothing is in reach.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I know what that feels like.”
My words are jumbled and confused, but for some odd reason, she nods as if she understands me completely. A weight lifts from my chest. She always seems to understand me, even when I don’t.
“I don’t know if I want to return somewhere I’ve never felt love before. I don’t know how I’m supposed to lead people who want me dead. My father, my family, and my people left me there to rot. I was a small child, just learning to read, when they threw me in there.”
Her voice shakes, and my arms wrap around her instinctively, pressing her small body against mine. As I bring her into my embrace, my coat slips off her shoulders, thumping to the floor in a forgotten heap of fabric. Wet tears fall down my bare chest as she buries her face into me. I run my hand up and down her arm, wanting to murder every one of the royal bastards who made her feel this way, wanting to keep her here in my arms for the rest of our lives.
An hour passes quietly in the dark. Her breathing evens out, and just when I think she might have fallen asleep, she speaks.
“What was your family’s name? Would I know them since we’re from the same time period?” she asks, making my heart stop with dread.
Though I’ve never really met either of my parents, my past life was carved from their absence. What I've recently pieced together makes me sick. She would definitely know them. She would know me, and the evenings together I have come to look forward to would stop instantaneously.
I smirk at her, trying to mask my nervousness. Shifting away from her, I stand, stretching my tired arms above my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her attention fall to my abdomen. The way my heart hammers in my chest from her slight physical interest makes me hate myself even more for what I’m about to say.
“Let me walk you home. It’s late.”
“Do you think I would judge you for who your family is?”
Yes, she definitely would, but not for the reason she thinks. She knows I was an orphan, so she knows my parents might not have been the best people, but she has no idea just how incredibly accurate that speculation would be.
<
br /> “I don’t want to ruin this friendship between us by bringing up something that happened hundreds of years ago. Something irrelevant now,” I say, pushing my hand roughly through my hair.
“It might have been hundreds of years ago for you, but it was just weeks ago for me, Remy. I want to know you, but every time we’re intimate about anything you push me away.”
Intimate.
The mood snaps around us with the simple word. My throat bobs as my mind shifts to only one thing. “You really think I’d be able to push you away if we were intimate?”
Her lips part, but nothing comes out, her features flashing into surprised understanding. I break when her breathing accelerates. The pieces of my soul shake in my chest, trying to come together, but not quite making it. We’re the same, her and I. She understands me because of our past. She knows my life is all but a ruined artifact, and she wants me anyway. I’ve never had that before. I’ve never had someone look at me the way Alexandra’s looking at me right now.
I kneel on one leg against the bed, leaning over her, shadowing her as my chest brushes against hers. My hand slips around her waist, pulling her into me, making her close the distance between us. Her palm pushes against the nape of my neck, her fingers pulling at my hair. Our heads tilt toward each other, my forehead leaning against hers. Her warm breath fans over my face.
“Remy—”
She whispers my name just as my lips press firmly against hers. Her lips part under the pressure of my mouth, and her tongue hesitates less than a second before slipping against mine. She’s still sitting up as I lean into her, but my body needs her closer.
Both of my hands slip lower, grabbing the underside of her legs and lifting her to me. She gasps against my mouth, but doesn’t pull her lips from mine. We fall against the mattress, and her legs wrap around me instantly, locking us in place.
Grinding my hips against hers, my cock presses into her center, my boxers and her dress the only thing separating us. My mouth leaves her lips, trailing down her jaw; her breath is labored and hot against my ear, making me crazy. I tease the soft skin at the base of her neck, sucking lightly before raking my teeth gently over the spot.