All that I am.
All that my heart desires.
Then I asked in return for that heart’s desire to be given to me in physical form. For her to see me with all-seeing eyes. For her heart to recognize mine right away. We would be new, but ancient at the same time. For her body to yearn to be wrapped up in mine.For the only reason her soul would levitate would be because it needed to get to mine, her body the vessel that kept it locked inside.
One man.
One woman.
Key and lock.
Together,wewould own an eternal treasure that would make us rich.
Perhaps this yearning inside of me could be found in the songbird once I heard her voice. Perhaps it would be in her voice where her romance lived. Where her love could be found.
I was not sure.
I was not sure about anything in life except for my place in the Faustifamiglia,and if that was all the understanding Rosaria Caffi and I had…perhaps the love my heart was hungry for could be found. It could grow, if not felt at first sight.
Another hard gust of wind howled outside of the window. It pushed against me, as if it wanted to prove how strong it was, how it could make me move without me even realizing it.
“I know how strong you are, my love,” I whispered. “I know you can leash a beast and make him walk behind you without even a tug, if you so wish.”
Searching in the same pocket I’d had the photos stored, I pulled out a long chain. The pendant had the face of a lion set in gold, and beneath him, a ruby heart sparkled like blood in his chest. It was a sturdy piece. Something a man would wear and then give to the woman who would protect his heart. Hold it against her heart and carry it as a shield and a claim.
Looking toward the stars, I squeezed the pendant in my fist, cutting my palm. My blood spilled on it, staining it. If life did not go as planned, and my romantic heart began to shrivel, this pendant would stand in for my heart. It symbolized the lion in my chest. I said a prayer over it, a common one, before I tucked it back and turned to leave.
My eyes narrowed on a piece of...fabric drifting like a melodyinside of the stone walls. It was not the violent thrashing of Rosaria Caffi’s photo, but a soft sway, as if it was as curious about me as I was of it. It seemed at peace being contained with me. It seemed to go with the winds of life, finding itself in a place it had never been before. And although a cold hand had presumably forced it here, it almost seemed to accept this. As if accepting this meant it had accepted its fate with grace.
It reminded me of a ribbon fluttering around a prison. From behind walls, the view of the stars was mocking to a man such as myself. A man not accustomed to being locked in a cage.
I blinked my eyes, shaking my head. Perhaps I’d had too much to drink earlier.
No, if that were the case, I would be comfortable, the whiskey stoking the natural fire inside of me to fight against the overbearing chill.
A woman had lost her hair piece. A delicate scarf. Presumably ripped out by the violence of the wind.
That was all.
Patting the spot over my heart, to be sure the chain with the pendant and the photo were still with me, I took the two steps toward the exit. At the door, the fabric drifted in front of me, almost frantic, and then it covered my eyes before it took off with another gust, the stone wall snagging at its fibers. It waved for only a second before it took off again.
I turned back to it.
The gossamer wing of fabric had settled on the ground. I was not sure why this bothered me. It felt as if the fabric did not deserve to be there, as though it were trash, and trapped in this stone cage for anyone to find and disregard.
My romantic heart ruled my body, and I went back for it. I brought it close to my nose, scenting a woman. A woman who had a floral essence, but also a bit spicy and citrusy. Her long hair, which seemed light brown, stuck to its fibers.
A cord of three is not so easily broken…
I wrapped the scarf around my hand, as if I were an old knightand my damsel had offered me a token of her love before I left for a battle. With a different prayer on my mind and the words echoing inside of my heart, I left.
My prayer was that a woman with the same hypnotizing scent, the same beautiful hair, would satisfy the lion in my chest someday, and in the claim, in the one word,mine, the empty void in me would close, and my skin would be warm once again.
Chapter 1
The Beginning
Inquietante.
