Standing on the balcony, Marie faced out over the ocean as the sun set in shades of orange and pink. The breeze picked up moving strands of her ebony hair and caressing her porcelain skin with its warm fingers. Tomorrow she would finish her journey to the land of the elves. Tonight she listened to the sounds of the city around her, so many people bustling about, so much noise. If they would all just stop and really listen to the world around them only for a minute, what a difference it would make in their lives. They would see that they were all part of something so much larger than themselves, each one an intricate part of the other, each soul weaved in with those around them. But she knew they would not stop, they would not listen, they would not see. Somewhere in the span of her lifetime they had lost themselves. The world faded around them until all they could see was the short span of their own lifetimes in this world. It was time for her to move on. She would go to the ones that do listen, the ones that she could finally rest with.

*

He watched her as she stood at the balcony railing with her face turned to the sun as it made it’s way down, disappearing at the far end of the horizon. She stood as she stood most nights, pulling in the last of the day’s light. In the centuries he’d spent with her, he never grew tired of watching her. She was his light, his life, his love.

When she turned away from the railing and held out her hand he went to her, padding quietly over and stood at her side waiting for her hand. He didn’t have to wait long. The feel of her fingers as she combed them across the top of head then into his neck tingled down his spine and heated his blood. He lead her into the sitting room and waited as she slid the balcony door closed. It was dark in the room but he could see to lead her around the furniture and into the bedroom. Once there, she stood still and quiet while he shifted then reached his hands into her hair, pulling out the pins that held it up. Once loose, he combed through it and marveled, as he always did, at the contrast, ebony hair against ivory skin.

“It is not so different from your own coat,” she said.

“How is it that you see my coat yet not the furniture in the room?” he asked. He knew full well what her answer would be, but asked anyway, longing to hear the sound of her voice.

“There are no souls in furniture.”

“But how do you see the color of my coat? You rarely look down as I lead you.”

“I see you through my fingers,” she said and turned to touch his face. “Your coat is white now,” she whispered, such sadness, such grief in her voice.

He knew his time with her was coming to an end, he did not have her life span. Reaching for the brush on the night stand he said, “Do not begin to grieve for me now. I do not want my last days with you to be filled with sadness.”

He drew her over to the bed and sat with her beginning to pull the brush through her hair. He brushed until it lay like smooth silk against her back then returned the brush to the night stand and lit an orange blossom scented candle. As the scent permeated the room he went back to the bed where she still sat and knelt down resting his head in her lap. Closing his eyes he listened as she hummed and combed her fingers through his hair. It was as dark as hers once. Now ribbons of white flowed through it. It seemed strange to him at times when he saw his reflection in the mirror, how only his hair showed the signs of his age, so different from the humans in this world. He was the oldest of his kind only surviving this long because of her, because she had chosen him to be her companion and he had chosen her to be his mate.

“Dance with me Jacob,” she said and he rose to his feet, taking her hands and leading her into the center of the room.

They danced to the music of her humming, moving slowly to the melody she brought forth from childhood. It was the only thing she remembered from so long ago, before the time of Matthew, before the time of birthing and darkness. She remembered a time when this melody would bring him to his knees in desire, even now she could feel his heat begin to rise. When her song ended she reached up into his hair and pulled him down to her lips. Such fire in his kisses, such passion and desire, she wished that they would never end. But they did, just as they always had and always would.

“I need to pack your things,” he said and pulled back from her embrace. “I want to have time to bathe you in the morning.”

He led her back to the bed, sat her down and went to the closet to retrieve her suitcase. She didn’t keep a lot of clothing. There were times when she would go for days or weeks without dressing at all. Those were times they didn’t go out but stayed in their penthouse suites and she was only visible to him. She would lay out on the penthouse balcony completely nude, soaking in the suns rays with him laying at her side. She never burned, only pulling the life of the sun into her body; her skin remained porcelain ivory, smooth and silky to the touch. Thinking about her skin brought the heat back to him as he started to pack her clothes.

“We’ll need to get you something warmer when we arrive,” he said. “It will be colder than the other places we’ve been.”

“Only on the mountain,” she said, that same sadness creeping back into her voice.

“What do you want to wear tomorrow?” he asked choosing to ignore her reference to the mountain. “I’ll need to leave it out.”

She turned her head away, “You choose.”

“Marie, please don’t be this way.”

Sighing, she turned back to him. “The light blue sari,” With a smile she added, “It will go well with your eyes.”

With a smile of his own he took out the sari and set it aside. She didn’t wear it often and usually only for him.

“Who would I wear it for if not for you?” she asked.

She stood and made her way over to the bedroom balcony opening the doors when she got there. The noise of the city was less on this side and the sounds of the ocean filled the room.

When the suitcase was packed Jacob carried it, and anything else that would not be used in the morning, to the penthouse door. With this done, he returned to the bedroom and walked over standing at the balcony doors to watch her.

Her hair streamed back from her face in the evening breeze as she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the night. He held his breath as he stood taking in her beauty and his heat grew. She was slender, with an hour glass frame that men all over the world coveted. They would have pressed in from all sides just to touch her if he hadn’t been at her side at all times. He invoked fear upon them as he walked, and if one got too close, the low rumble of his growl would send him skittering away. Her eyes were the color of diamonds; strange eyes so full of light, prisms of color so bright you could scarcely look upon them. They were like butterflies dancing in the sunlight, and her mouth, god the fire that came from her lips.

He could stand it no more. He rushed to her and held her close, pressing his lips to hers, feeling the fires of desire build within him until he could no longer contain it.

They made love to each other in the open air, the sounds of the ocean flowing through their minds in rhythm with their bodies. They were one in the heat of their passion, one in the depth of their love, two souls made one in each other. If only it could always be.

Lifting her up, he carried her back to the bedroom and lay with her on the bed. Later they would make love again, slower they would build the fires with their hands and with their lips. For now they would rest in each others arms and sleep.

Soft gentle fingers caressed her skin. She could feel them sliding, ever so gently, down her back as she lay on his chest. She could smell the spice of his scent rising from his skin. Who was he?

“I am who I have always been, but I now I am also more.”

She woke startled from the dream and moved closer to Jacob. Listening carefully as he murmured, she smiled when she heard him say, “Butterflies in the sunlight.” It was his description of her eyes. Sometimes, he would describe them as diamonds shining with prisms of fire, but more often it would be butterflies dancing in the sunlight. She liked this description, it was softer. As she held him close, she remembered the day that she found him.

She had been on her own, wandering blind in a land that was unfamiliar, when she heard a commotion up ahead. Roars and the shouting of men came to her and she made her way closer to them. When she appeared before the men, reaching out before her, feeling her way closer, a surprised silence filled the air. She could still hear Jacob panting and turned her attention to him, choosing to ignore the men surrounding her. Their surprise at seeing her gave her enough time to reach the cage they had locked him in and before they regained their senses, throw open the door and release him.

She'd turned away when the screams began.

He had killed them all, he and the female they had trapped with him. Men could be so foolish in their actions. She had seen their intentions before releasing him, both those of the innocent and those of the knowing. He was not an animal to be mated.

He was white even then, though not near as white as he was now. The female was not, nor was she a shifter. She stayed with them for a while after her release, until they came upon the scent of a true male Bengal.

It was two years before Jacob showed her his true form, but then, she couldn’t see his human form any more than she could see him as a tiger. The color of his coat, she could feel; it was the color of his soul that she saw, a pale rose.

Sometime in the six centuries they had been together, she grew to love him as more than companion and lover. He was a part of her now and she didn’t know how she would cope with the loss that was soon coming.

She thought about the dream that woke her. It had been Jacob’s voice but not his body, not his scent. What did it mean? She reached up to his face and when her fingers came into contact with his skin, his eyes sprang open.

"Two into one," he gasped and pulled her into his arms.

*

He shuddered as he held her tight in his arms, the dream still fresh in his mind, and stared down at his arms and hands. His skin was bronze, stretched tight over strong muscles, but the dream, his hands were different in the dream.

He had been holding her, caressing her back with his fingers; long, slender, fair fingers. They were his but they were not. It was as though he had been encompassed inside another. Two souls inhabiting the same body, but it wasn't two souls. They were two souls melded into one. Could that be done?

He felt her move against his chest, her fingers still resting on his cheek and took a deep breath. What had he said on waking? "Two into one." What did that mean?

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's nothing. I had a dream, that's all."

He continued to hold her and thought about his decision to take her as mate. He had known that she would not give him her soul, that there would always be a void but had made the decision regardless. He had taken two years to reveal himself to her and in that time his love for her had grown. There was to be no other for him.

She had given him all but her soul. He knew why. He was not the first for her, nor would he be the last. Her life span far exceeded his own.

"I think I had the same dream," she said and he twitched in surprise.

"What dream did you have?"

Her fingers moved against his cheek, up along his temple, feeling the contours of his face. "It was you, but it was not you. I think that more than your death waits for us in the land of the elves."

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.04.2010

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