by Astrid Cielo
“I’m sorry, Ember. I just…I can’t. I...,” he tried to explain but she stopped him with a finger on his lips.
“It’s okay. I understand. Who would want a woman who has been broken?” she said sadly, the tears already forming in her eyes. He could let her assume he didn’t want her, end this torture he put himself through when he felt guilty for wanting her, needing her. But he couldn’t. He needed her to know how much he needed her, needed her to forgive him when he couldn’t forgive himself. So he pulled her into his embrace when she attempted to leave. He took a big breath and he decided to tell her about Ashwin.
“I was mated before. Her name was Ashwin and she died. I didn’t do so well after her death, basically just surviving. I feel guilty because I couldn’t save her. I allowed her to die, even though I saved you. Even though I grew up with Ashwin, played in the same fields, went to the same schools, and knew her like the back of my hand. I loved her, but I feel guilty because I want you. Because I’m beginning to think that I need you. What kind of man am I to dishonor my mate like this?” he replied. He had laid it on the line, and she had the power now. The power to break him, but on some level he knew that she wouldn’t. She was kind and loving. She was also understanding. He knew that she didn’t notice him watching her when she interacted with people. They each received her undivided attention; each became special in her eyes. Hell, she had even made Secundus, the grumpiest person that he knew, smile. She was like her name insisted, an ember just needing the right kindling to light a fire.
“Did Ashwin love you?” she asked.
“Yes, her last words were how much she loved me,” he said his voice breaking as the memories of her death swam through his mind.
“Ceylon, she would want you to be happy. If you don’t live, are you truly happy? People who truly love you want you to be happy,” Ember replied in a whisper.
“I know, but I still feel guilty. I just can’t, not right now,” he replied.
Ember hugged him then left his embrace to replace her shirt. “Then let’s eat. I think you need some time and I need to eat. When you are ready, for anything, I am here,” she said as she took her seat. She beckoned him over and she gave him the reprieve he needed. Her eerie silence had since diminished over time, and she proved to be very outgoing, loving to talk about anything. He loved to make her laugh; it made her entire face light up chasing away the shadows that always seemed to find her. She was beautiful.
***
Landon was beyond angry, his vision a field of red that wouldn’t dissipate, no matter how much he tried to calm himself. How dare that whore start sleeping around and with an alien no less? She would pay and so would he. They wouldn’t see it coming. The red bastard would pay with his life and before he died, he would watch as Landon claimed what was his once more. That bitch would get a taste of pain she had never had before. Ember was his.
He had spent years watching that bitch, her foster care background making her an easy target. She struggled so well in the beginning, her personality not easily accepting defeat, but she had succumbed in the end. How dare she leave him, he hadn’t said she could leave. Now all he had to do was bide his time. They would pay. He smiled to himself as the ice cold calm he strived for years to obtain slid into place. It was time to call in a few favors.
EIGHT
Ember allowed the paint brush to move on its own, the dark red paint taking the shape that played over and over in her dreams last night. Black hair framed a lovely oval face complete with full lips. Her dark eyelashes framed her almond eyes that sported a unique hazel-green gaze. Ember let the brush lead the way, totally relaxing her muscles, like she had so many times before. Ember loved to paint and draw, letting her imagination roam and create beautiful pieces. Her talent had allowed her to stow away money for when she gathered up the courage and an opportunity presented itself for her to escape Landon. Of course, it didn’t exactly work out as she had planned. Her plan involved her walking away, never seeing the cruel bastard again. Fate, however, had a different and fucked up plan for her involving being caught in the act and the painful beat down that followed. She realized without that she never would have met Ceylon which was something hard to fathom.
Other times her art owned her, dreams demanding to be painted or drawn and never leaving her alone until they graced the pages they begged to inhabit. She knew to let herself go and allow the paint or pencil to decide how the art would unfold. She would never verbalize it, but she had several sketched of Ceylon stowed away under a floorboard. She remembered him now, how he graced her dreams. Vivid dreams of him losing the female that her subconscious demand she paint. He did love her, and it almost destroyed him when she died. Some of the elements of the dream didn’t make sense, but he hadn’t told her his entire story, the reason why his people were here in the first place. Thoughts of Ceylon made her sigh. He was all that she could ever ask for in a man. He was beautiful, his baby-face adding to his attractiveness, rather than being off-putting as she would assume. His fine hair fell to his shoulders, and the skin that was a reddish tint only added to his appeal. He towered over her, dwarfing her five foot two frame. Though she hadn’t seen him naked, their many nights sitting on the couch with him embracing her to his chest as she fell asleep, she couldn’t help but feel his muscles firm beneath his shirts.
She knew that he wanted her, his erection was ever present pressing into her backside as she sat with him or on his lap. He was kind and patient. Sometimes she could sense his anger stirring, but she didn’t always know what caused it. If Landon was brought up, his anger made his eyes almost glow with the rage that he suppressed. She trusted him. Even though it was stupid, she trusted him explicitly. She wanted him so bad she could almost taste him on her lips. The orgasm he gave her while she was pressed against the wall, even without fully being skin to skin only whetted her appetite, an appetite she wasn’t sure she had. Years of being forced to have sex with her cruel husband had only convinced her that she didn’t like sex, but she now knew that sex with Ceylon would be anything but unpleasant.
Earthshattering.
Mind-numbing.
Those were words she would bet describe sex with Ceylon. But maybe it wasn’t the prospect of sex with a man who wouldn’t force her, but the idea that she would choose to have sex that made it so enticing. A few more swipes of the paint-brush and Ashwin stared back at her. Words she shared with her during her dream came back, words she had forgotten bombarding her consciousness.
Ember stood in a field, surrounded by flowers and trees as the strange sun began to set on the horizon. The foliage was similar to Earth. There were trees and flowers, but where Earth’s boasted green and multi-colored flowers, this world boasted a reddish landscape. Memories from elementary science class supplied her mind with pictures of Mars. This place reminded her of a Mars teeming with life. A mix of Earth and Mars. Flowers with reddened stems and leaves the color of a fire engine delighted her artistic senses, begging to be painted in the beautiful background of a setting sun. The molten sun that lit this place reminded her of an orange sun, where the Earth’s sun always seemed yellow to her. The beautiful flowers with the reddish stems boasted an even more beautiful flower, its petals an enchanting emerald green. Ember picked the flower, unable to stop herself, taking in its wonderful scent – jasmine, she mused.
“We used to play here,” a female voice said startling Ember from her reverie of the flower. Ember turned cautiously to the sound of the voice. This was her dream and she hadn’t expected intruders. That wasn’t necessarily true. Ember had been dreaming and speaking with people her entire life, attributing it to her loneliness. The female had reddened skin reminding her of carnelian; her chocolate brown hair tumbled in corkscrew curls around her shoulders, framing her oval face.
Salinian. Her mind reeled with the implications. Was she actually dreaming of Salin?
“I’m sorry. I thought I was alone,” Ember said. The girl smiled a smile that said she found that amusing.
“Ember,” she stated politely still confused about this whole thing.
“I know,” she said with a pleasant smile. Ember was confused.
“How?” Ember asked.
“How do I know you?” she replied to Ember’s question. Ember nodded. She knew she had never seen this woman before, but something seemed so familiar about her. “I dreamed of you when I was sick. After I dreamed of you I knew that I could let go. I’ll admit it took a while for me to believe my dreams. You see I was never psychic, not like my family,” Ashwin stated with a wistful tone. This explained nothing, in fact it was only confusing Ember more. “The thing with the Blue Death is that once you get to the point of no return, the pain is still intolerable and you are aware of everything. I held on for him, because I loved him. Ceylon and I grew up together. We played together in these fields,” Ashwin said her eyes reflecting the sadness that her words implied.
The pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place – this was Ceylon’s mate whose death caused him to feel guilty because he felt responsible for her death. “You were Ceylon’s mate,” she began excitedly because she had finally figured out who this female was, “but how?” she asked confused at the prospect of speaking to a person who was supposed to be dead. But then that dream with her mother flashed through her memory.
“You are a very, very rare type of person, Ember. Those who have passed on can speak with you in your dreams,” Ashwin replied as she motioned for Ember to follow. She led her to an area of the field that someone had cleared into what appeared to be a campfire area. The logs that surrounded the fire pit were a reddish-orange hue, reminding her of the color of a sunset. She took a seat across from Ashwin awaiting the rest of her explanation. Ashwin smiled as she took in her surroundings, as if remembering something from a time past. She sighed then began to speak, her voice wistful, “We used to play here. We were inseparable even as children. The other boys used to make fun of him because he had such a baby-face. I thought he was handsome. Even when we grew up, he kept his fine features, much to his displeasure. I loved him so much. I still do…”
Ember interrupted, her mind working at the speed of light, “He blames himself for your death,” she stated in understanding.
Ashwin nodded sadly, “I held on for so long, because I knew he wouldn’t accept that I was going to die. He hadn’t accepted the other’s deaths, so I knew he would never deal with mine. He was always like that though – shouldering everything and accepting blame that wasn’t his to accept. It was one of the reasons he became such a good healer. He cared deeply and felt every loss. I hate that my death has hurt him so much, but I had to let go, it was my time. Like I said, I dreamed of you, and I just knew that someday he would be okay. Heal him Ember. I know it won’t be easy, but I know that you already love him.”
Ember’s eyes widened in surprise, sure she liked Ceylon, but love? She wasn’t healed enough from Landon’s cruelty to even contemplate loving Ceylon. She enjoyed spending time with him, even looking forward to him holding her until she fell asleep. She was attracte3d to him; he made her breath catch and her heart beat out of control with just a look. She cared for him, but did she love him? Ember looked up to question Ashwin further, but she was gone and the dream world around her was fading as her consciousness pulled her to wakefulness. She felt the jostle as Ceylon carried her placing her gently on her bed. She kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep. Ceylon smoothed the hair from her face and softly kissed her lips. He left her never seeing the tears in her eyes as she realized that she really and truly loved Ceylon.
***
Ceylon took in Ember’s profile, her flame red hair that normally brushed past her shoulders was pulled into a ponytail with tendrils of hair flying haphazardly around her head. Her hands worked expertly with the paintbrush, her bottom lip held hostage between her teeth. She seemed alive, more alive than he ever remembered seeing her. She had come a long way in since her brush with death. From the shy and fearful female that jumped at every turn, to the exuberant female before him.
He watched as she took a deep breath and released it before laying her brush down on the palate on the stool behind her. She rolled her shoulders and smiled her face lighting up with her accomplishment. He took a few steps toward her, intent on seeing the painting she seemed so pleased about, but his feet stopped and his breath left him in a whoosh. Staring back at him, the hazel eyes he remembered from childhood stared back at him from the canvas. How? Why? He looked at Ember whose face fell and changed from happy to that of concern. “What’s wrong, Ceylon?” she asked. Her eyes traveled to her painting and she frowned before her eyes widened, “I had a dream,” she whispered.
Ceylon looked down into her green eyes before replying, “What dream?” his eyes never leaving the painting.
“I dreamed of Ashwin, we were in a field that she said you and her played in,” Ember stated. “I had this overwhelming urge to paint her, and when that happens, I have to do it.”
Ceylon nodded as he looked over the painting. The familiar guilt he felt was there, as well as a love for her he knew would never go away. She had been an important part of his life, they had grown up together. She was his best friend. But oddly, even knowing how much she meant to him, Ember close proximity still called to him, tantalizing him with her scent – cherry blossom, he now knew after smelling the lotion she used after her baths. He still wanted to kiss her, taste every inch of her skin. He still ached to possess her. Ultimately, those feelings only increased his guilt.
“She told me to tell you that it wasn’t your fault. It was her time to go,” Ember whispered, breaking his thoughts. Her small hand tentatively found his arm; as if unsure her touch was welcome. He turned to her, looking into her face that was lined with worry. She may have been able to forgive him, but he couldn’t forgive himself. Ashwin had always understood, so it was understandable she would forgive him. He always knew that she would. Then his eyes narrowed as he peered down at Ember, his mind protesting the fact she spoke with his dead mate.
“How do you know she forgave me? How did you even speak with her?” he asked. He knew she was telling the truth. He had never revealed the specifics of anything; just let her know that his mate had died. Ember appeared affronted at first. She shook her head as if clearing her thoughts.
“I have always had dreams, even as a child. I would meet people and we would talk. I didn’t know they were real, at least not until this moment. I thought they were a figment of my imagination to help me get through my loneliness. I still don’t really understand it, not really. Ashwin just told me that you never accepted her death, and she thinks it is because you feel guilty for not saving her,” Ember said her voice full of confusion.
“It is my fault,” Ceylon said through clenched teeth. “I allowed that virus to kill her, to take her from me. I am responsible.”
Ember shook her head, but he didn’t stay to hear her rebuttal. He had to go. He had to get away. Ashwin stared at him from the canvas, her eyes bright with life that she no longer had, and he was responsible. His chest ached as he turned and stormed out, leaving a gaping Ember in his wake.
***
Ember sat across from Lindsay, wondering how to proceed. Of course she wasn’t there to chit-chat about how Ember desired Ceylon, but his guilt kept him from her. Ember wanted Ceylon with every fiber of her being and she wouldn’t let a silly thing like him feeling responsible for his mate’s death get in her way. Not that feeling guilty for something like that was wrong or silly. She understood that he felt he should have done something more to save her. Sometimes she felt responsible for her own mother’s death, but she knew in the end that there was nothing she could have done to save her mother short of not existing.
She set the glass of sweet tea down in front of Lindsay and laughed at how easily she had become to think of this as her home. She would work while Ceylon was out doing diplomat stuff, and then when he came home they would eat supper together, talk and she would fall asleep in his arms. Admittedly she didn’t have a great example to go by, but in her opinion the only thing missing was hot and steamy sex. She looked into Lindsay’s bright blue eyes and wondered at Lindsay’s cat got the canary smile. For a moment she felt as if she were standing in a room naked, and her soul was an open book for anyone to read. She often felt like that when talking with Lindsay, she attributed it to her being a counselor.
“What would you like to talk about today?” Lindsay stated her blue gaze alight with laughter. Lindsay had always reminded Ember of a fairy, a very sneaky and mischievous fairy.
“I don’t know,” Ember lied. Granted she wasn’t a very good liar, but that wasn’t a bad quality to possess she supposed. Lindsay’s arched brow told her that she didn’t believe the lie, and since Ember knew she wouldn’t get away with anything less she caved. “I’m in love with Ceylon,” she whispered. She was afraid. It wasn’t like Ceylon was the boy next door – the guy in the next galaxy? She really didn’t know how people felt about the Salinian's as a whole. Humans couldn’t get along with each other over differences such as skin color, race, religious preference, sexual orientation and the list goes on and on, so how could she expect them to accept an alien? How did she know that Lindsay wasn’t one of those people? She didn’t. And that scared the crap out of her, especially since she just admitted to being in love with an alien.