She did so follow the path of the green, pulsating light...Thoughts of him abound, intoxicated by the banter of friends, living within the moment of eraser- the pain subsiding, even if for a glimmer...
Still, she could offer no resistance to what beckoned.
Not that she'd bother.
Box left unopened seemed a worthy task to enlighten, to seize on exploration.
Puddles not jumped into spread no water,
felt no disturbance.
Life is meant to spill...
To dampen
Of these things she held certainty.
He nudged her back into the present; even if he could not gain complete control, well then, he'd certainly attempt to do so.
Knowing her the way that he did, her mind would often travel where her body could not.
In this she was incredibly adept.
One aspires to this when life dictates an escape that has become insurmountable.
He watched as her eyes told the sorrow of the travel.
The other was to come, and come soon enough.
She tempted fate often, knew that it was simply the way of it.
Her path to seek.
Mightily he held onto her hand, placed her into bed for slumber, praying that this would not be the evening where she'd wake and leave suddenly.
But she knew...
Even then.
Come for her he would, and he'd crush anyone who would stand in his way.
All of her life she had felt his pressence;
realized his plight.
He had it all.
Possessed what others merely grasp for...
Early on he had lost it all to neglect, for self satisfaction.
He'd not repeat this error twice.
Once the recognition took place she'd no more walk away from the challenge than he.
Circumstance be damned.
What belonged to be set in place to erradicate his past would find itself placed before his feet and no one could possibly match his strength, will or determination.
It was what it was.
She shuddered.
The dreams plaguing her yet again...
The man next to her protectively wrapped his arms around her, urging time to hold still...
The last thing he desired was for the light to illuminate the room
seeing her tears of anguish was tearing him apart.
He too had lost plenty.
There was nothing that he wouldn't do to hold onto what had been promised to him.
He understood that her word held.
That she'd never betray.
The other would, this he felt was a given truth.
Unless he could remove her, bring her home...back to the solace of the mountains...
She'd take flight.
Whatever drove her
stirred beneath the fragility of emotions running throughout her body
would grip the sensibilities, the intellect
force the issue
At times he didn't believe that the other would arrive
indeed, he had read the dark scripts that she had penned
bore witness to the many oddities that consistantly surrounded her person.
He held doubts.
She loved him, this was his truth.
She'd not willingly go...
He'd never release her binds.
He had even taken the extreme measure of binding her at night to his person.
He felt regret for her discomfort, yet this act assured him of a complete nights sleep.
The other had been made aware of the situation.
He made it his business to know everything pertaining to her life.
It was a necessity.
In order to find her, to procure what he desired above all else this he had to do.
His life had imploded 7 years ago to the day.
By prayer, though some would remark dark prayer
he had begged for the latitude to break from the daily routine and pursue the life that had been stolen from him, via deaths demise.
Death, he scoffed, had ripped his one true love from his life all of those years ago.
Recollection angered him greatly.
This woman was wild, a child at heart and for all intense purposes had broken; fallen.
All that was required was the procurement.
Her theological background, deep set belief was all that it would take to enforce his will.
Not love, commitment would stand in his way. She would not defy one thing, her achilles heel, and this fact- coupled with his intent would serve him the life that he felt should be afforded to him.
She knew that he could trump words spoken.
That he could destroy all that was her in the name of possession...
She had been warned of his consumption since the tender age of 3.
But like a moth to a flame, pragmatic only on the surface
adrenilin junky
she lifted her gaze to match his...
Instant recognition would be all that it would take...
As he often did, her mate took notice.
He always took notice when other men intruded on their lives.
Never sure when the egotiscal bastard would begin the fight, he was most assuredly not going to allow it to become a struggle.
He'd insulate her from the rigors of the journey.
No wealth, even one of such a vast nature could dissuade him.
Realizing that she was a mere child by heart he too had plans...
For his stature was as great, as stoic as the others...
Monetary gain had little to do with her promise, her stay.
It had everything to do with Pandoras box and little to do with rebellion.
Their foundation was solid.
You cannot steal what is built on cemented dreams.
If anything the other man held only a foundation of sand.
Sandy dreams.
Unfullfilled passions.
Too bad for him he thought.
She was confused as to why they were relocating abroad, inate trust of her man brought her to stand by his side.
Going home was paramount for healing.
He had (and rightfully so) sequestered her to his solitude.
Granting her only limited access to the outside world.
She had fallen.
The darkness had swallowed her whole and it was he who held onto the precious light.
The other was not of this soil left behind.
Mistake number one had been made, as he had predicted.
He now would hold the upper hand.
With the distance between them now removed he could act.
All that she needed to see was the box, the untangible.
They had met once, briefly.
He knew, with immediate urgency that she was the answer.
Fear caused her to turn away.
Dare. Bold bravado would bring her back.
This was a fact.
Finding a suitable business deal, contacting her business partner he'd place himself in her direct path...
seizing upon the opportunity to dismiss the others.
He could and would offer her what no one else could.
Sanctuarie.
It was where they both belonged.
Certainly he could no longer live without her, not after having waited so very long to procure.
He began to relinquish his control, feeling secure living abroad now.
The language barrier, his constant fathering of her assured him a life long partner.
He would be quick to marry her, adorn his love with what she needed, desired.
He was no failure when it came to domestication.
The dreams had seemingly dissipated since their arrival...
Nothing would stand in his way.
Complacency had begun to relax his effort- though he never wavered on his love for her...
He was certainly demonstrative a plenty.
She too felt relaxed.
Perhaps he had been correct.
It was just a dream, and she did, afterall, love this man mightily.
They rarely fought.
He had accepted her past, resolved any misgivings.
He demanded only her attention and loyalty.
This was given readily.
Easy enough to be loyal to a caring and trustworthy man.
The meeting was set for 2 pm, one that she could care less for attending, but her signature was required.
Her partner had remarked that something had felt "off" to him, and warned her into caution.
Life was, afterall a chess game, and he was a tried player.
The meeting was held in a secure location, though she had not been here before, her spirit had.
This place was known.
Pride kept her from running.
Having read the scribes manuscripts the partner again advised not to remain any longer then necessary.
Once he entered, she knew.
She had been hunted; her greatest fear had been realized.
He waited patiently as the meeting reached its natural conclusion.
As planned, dismissed the others.
He looked over to her.
"So you know."
"I do."
"Well then, what are we to do?"
"Nothing. I'm leaving."
"No. No, you won't, not until you listen to my proposal..."
The partner, sensing that his friend was in grave danger alerted her man-who promptly raced to be by her side.
He found the room empty...
*************************************************************
Though life has been difficult as of late, I wanted to thank my friends for all of their support.
Hope that you are all checking out the first novel, even in its imperfection it's a great read.
From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews
