Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (77 page)

“More! Please, Alex!” I say unable to sate this ravenous beast in me. Something else awakens in my mind and it shatters a barrier finally fully connecting our minds.

“
Alex!
” a growling male voice echoes in Alex’s mind, seeping into my mind through our connection. “
You can’t…
” the reprimanding voice shouts but somehow Alex blocks him. Alex’s ardor intensifies fiercely. He is not holding anything back. He thrusts, strokes and rubs inside me giving all of himself; both submitting to me as well as mastering me body and soul. The waves of an orgasm accumulates, pulling back like a tsunami, rippling and then propelling me towards the peaks of exhilarating pleasure I never knew existed. My lips part of their own volition and I shout “Alexander!! Alex! Alex! I love you!” with complete abandon. I feel the sensation within every cell of my body in such a manner that I am branded by Alex. Losing him would be losing me. His control is beyond anything I’ve experienced. He only allows himself to reach his climax after mine is initiated and thrusts into me four more times, rolling his head back and roaring my name into the abyss. His voice ripples our light which shifts and pulls us into a misty waterfall made of…light?

The light shimmers, and rains down unraveling our aura confinement washing us off into the wavy waters still tangled within each other. The wave slowly eases and my senses are completely unblocked. I feel the tense restless energy of an angry male. I feel his gaze boring into me, both worried and forlorn. But why do I feel his presence at a great distance yet his hand firmly on my heart as if it’s his touch keeping it beating? I can feel his warmth, intense desire, love even surrounding me with his touch right over my heart, yet it’s Alex who is holding me, giving me the same. How could that be possible? I cling to Alex with all I have
, because I’m afraid this is a dream and I will wake up feeling empty. Wordlessly, Alex coaxes me to merge into the waters around us. I soon realize that we’re first sprinkled then doused into a memory.

I watch a memory of myself and Alex arriving in a carriage to a masquerade ball in Paris! I blink first. I know this place! I know it so well! How? It belongs to Maximillian… The intimacy of the Duke’s first name in my memory surprises me. My body automatically tightens up with remembrance. I swallow hard and feel Alex tense next to me as well. He’s watching me with his peripheral vision as he’s following the events unfold in the reflection of this memory. The feeling of confusion washes over me just as it did that particular day. My thoughts and feelings were torn between two men. One who loved me and wanted me, the other duty bound and didn’t seem to reciprocate what I’d been feeling for him. Duke Maximillian Courcillion was very much in love with me. So much so that he asked me to marry him. Why then would Alex show me this particular memory where another man who was more significant in my life at that point in time? The doubtful, self-loathing side of my consciousness creeps up to the surface.

“Look at that god of a man whose beauty makes the angels weep. Why would he want you? You provided nothing but misery for him in all of your existence.” Does he regret saving me? But my newborn self-confidence beats my doubts down. I lightly exhale a breath, and feel Alex’s reassuring hand hold mine tighter, making caressing circles in my palm with his thumb. A soothing touch caresses my heart. Even though I don’t see it, somehow I know that it’s Maximillian’s restrained energy that is sustaining my heart and warming my body while I’m here.

The memory before us first ripples, then shifts, changes as if to locate a beginning point. People and events shuffle in a hazy mix. The face of a regal, beautiful woman with fierce blue eyes glimpses, and looks directly at me. That single gaze makes me shiver with a sensation of someone walking over my grave. For some reason I know that she’s Maximillian’s mother, the Duchess. Finally the fledgling memories flood my mind, mixing within the waters of this memory, reminding me that the Duchess loathed me with pure, undiluted hatred. Maximillian asked me to marry him earlier in the week. But she made sure to make her feelings known on what my answer should be. It would have to be ‘no’ if I valued his place in the world and society and with a veiled threat,
indicating that she would make my suffering long and painful. Maximillian was expecting me to give him an answer during their masquerade ball. That’s why I was nervous!

As the lapping, rippling vision of a memory merges and blends with my fledgling memories, the feeling is akin to the shifting and colliding of tectonic plates within my mind, swimming over a lake of lava, merging and forming newer, stronger memories as they’re branded over my soul. The storms within me are strong but cleansing.
Parts of me that have been locked away in an abyss are finally merging. My past memory emerges through the depths of my mind and coalesces with the vision of a memory playing before me.

I see Maximillian in the vision of this memory very clearly. He had a wild side in him that was untamed but well restrained within the polite society. He kept his rough intensity carefully, almost painfully concealed with his elegant refinements. Anyone who was talking to him only met the polished surface that was the Duke Courcillion. But I could always see it. I think that’s what made him desire me. He didn’t have to pretend with me or hide his true nature. He’s pacing in his room; nervous about the answer he would receive from me. The thoughts and feelings I have had that day inundates me as we submerge into the memory. An inner struggle goes through me, still undecided about what I will say to him even as the announcer heralds our names. How could I possibly say yes to the Duke when his nearest relations will make life miserable for both of us at best? I can’t even think of the worst possibility.

He loves me now, but he will come to hate me for every cold shoulder he receives, every comfort he is denied and the loss of his title would simply devastate him. I have painstakingly gotten ready for this occasion. I herald no title, no social class in France. Those are qualities one cannot purchase; they’re inherited. Therefore I have to make up what I lack with my elegance, beauty, personal class, and my wild western pride where bravery, quick wit and standing your ground mean more than any title one’s ancestors can grant. I stand up straighter and steal a glance at Alex who is protectively holding my hand in the crook of his arm. Even under the layer of clothing and my glove, a shock of awareness courses through me with his proximity. We’re both very much in tune with each other’s emotions. Alex seems overly tense but to any observer he only looks like someone who just commands their attention, deference and reverence. With the grace of a predator, the looks of a seasoned ancient warrior god and even the cadence of a single word he utters are seductively dark, his magnetism is nearly impossible to escape. His eyes surreptitiously scan the guests, searching for any possible danger towards me. I try to bury my feelings for him in the darkest corners of my heart. Why is he oblivious to the fact that I love him? Can a man so alert and aware of everything around him be equally obtuse to that fact or is he simply sparing me from a disappointment? I avert my gazes away from him but it doesn’t escape his notice.

The long walk up to the winding staircase allows the other guests to scrutinize us with their long glances while hiding their identities behind the anonymity of their masks. I look up at Alex again: his face is impassive; the alpha male, dominating energy he radiates keeps the strangers out while cocooning the two of us in its protection by forbidding anyone from approaching us. His supremely confident, arrogant strides are predatory: both ready to attack as well as to shield. Other men give a wide berth to us purely instinctually when they see his masterfully controlled, gloriously lean muscles evidenced by the way his clothes fit his body like a glove and his powerful maleness oozing out of his pores. Women on the other hand fan their heated faces, holding onto the nearest furniture; their equilibrium skewed just by his proximity. Some of them don’t even hide their intense attraction towards his ravishing, clearly evident virility. I feel a surging jealousy. Would he bed one of these women? My heartbeats increase, as does my breathing and Alex pats my hand to reassure me with his unrelenting vibrant power. I calm with his comforting touch.

I am dazed, mesmerized even watching myself in a different time, under Alex’s protective presence. But I realize that Alex who rescued me from Hades is now looking at me with longing and possessive eyes. The intensity of his stare could burn a hole through me. Blushing, I merge myself into my past memory once again. We’ve exchanged words with the Duchess who briefly holds my gaze. She’s marking me like a bounty hunter would mark his next capture or kill listed on the ‘
dead or alive
’ wanted poster. Her pupils dilate; I can clearly see the contractions around her irises. Her intrusion in my mind however is unexpected! She forces her way into my mind uninvited, catching me completely off guard. The first thing she reads off my mind is that I’m in love with Alex! I immediately lift up my guards to shut her out, but she’s already marked me with her mental beacon, her brand of calling card in my mind to easily find me. But why?

She gives Maximilian a warning before we walk away from her presence, Alex reluctantly passes me to the Duke, but not before he gives him a threatening look. Maximillian walks me to the gardens with Alex closely walking behind us. My eyes drift up to the sky after feeling the intense energy of the two alpha males. I slowly exhale a breath. There’s no moonlight or a single star in the sky. But the walkway is lit with torches. Yet the air around us is pregnant with unease. A troubled wind ruffles my dress and only my dress as if the air around me is tasting my scent, measuring my shape in the cover of the night. The wind flutters around again and puts out two of the torches ahead of us. Even in the cover of the darkness, I find myself so in tune with Alex’s body, feeling his alertness and tension. His eyes immediately scan every shape in the darkness; alert for every noise, each flutter of every leaf, even every heartbeat in the vicinity. Getting my cue from Alex’s mood, I too become cautious automatically. The breeze ruffles me again. This time its caresses are sharp and punishing. It’s as if the wind is trying to strip my scent off either in an effort to identify me or conceal my identity from others. I automatically hug my dress trying to protect my body from the biting licks of the wind’s assault.

Duke asks me if I’m cold when he sees me trying to warm and protect myself. What I feel is beyond chilled: I feel exposed to the bone. Within the blink of an eye, Alex is with me and wrapping me up. His arms run over mine just a little too long. By the time Maximillian parts with his jacket, I’m already wrapped in Alex’s. Maximillian’s disapproving glance towards Alex doesn’t escape my notice. He looks at me with a certain plea in his eyes to be alone with me. We’re away from the guests and his mother. But he wants to be away from Alex as well. I turn to Alex asking him to give us some privacy. He clenches his teeth.

“No!” he replies simply. His stance, demeanor and that single uttered word are simply forbidding me to remain alone with Maximillian.

“No?” asks Maximillian incredulous. “Please remember that you are in the presence of a Lady you serve and Duke Courcillion. You are
only
a servant. I have given too much value to your non-existing station due to my care for Miss Duncan. But you may not remain here as I require to speak to Miss Duncan, privately.”

“Duke Courcillion
, you will forgive me if I don’t share your view on your measly station. It means nothing to me. I am here for Miss Duncan and only for Miss Duncan. You do not order me about!” Alex responds with restrained violence as he takes a step forward, ready to yank me out of the Duke’s hold.

“Would you give me a moment, my Lord?” I ask extracting my arm from his hold, giving Maximillian a perfunctory smile. Alex’s turquoise eyes are blazing with unrelenting power and tremendous fervor. This time it’s Maximillian’s turn to be on the defens
ive. He takes a step towards me and his hand grasps my arm gently but with evident possessiveness.

“It’s unwise to place more value than the required minimum to a servant. They are replaceable, Miss Duncan.” His tone carries an undisguised warning.

“Alexander is not a servant, my Lord. He’s…” what is he to me? We’ve always been a little more than friends, but a little less than lovers. What do I call that?

Maximillian arches his eyebrows. Alex’s hand forcefully removes the Duke’s hand off my arm.

“Don’t you ever order her around! She’s her own person!” I gently touch Alex’s arm, and look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please!” I mouth.

“Would you wait for me inside the ballroom? I need to speak with Duke Courcillion in private. I will come and find you,” I say.

“I will give you ten minutes Elissa. Then I will come and find you!” he counters. I shake my head; this might turn into a long discussion.

“Thirty minutes.” I counter back as Duke is watching our word match with an incredulous stare.

“No, Elissa! Twenty minutes to the dot! Take it or leave it,” he says simply expecting me to follow his final concession and stalks towards the chateau. What I didn’t see then, was the almost glance he gave me, then finally, with tremendous effort, he squeezed his eyes shut in pain as if leaving me behind with another man tormented him. I could only see this now with observing eyes.

When I turn back, I look at Maximillian. He opens his mouth to speak his disagreement. But I hold my finger.

“Please… He will come back in twenty minutes and I must say what I need to…I know that I indicated my answer might be in the affirmative after I gave it thorough consideration, but I think it would be to both of our benefits if we parted our ways.”