Just as the word leaves my lips, their heads snap in my direction. There’s no possible way that they can see me from here, but like a string tied between our two souls, my little siren looks directly at me without even knowing it. Her gaze is curious and uncertain. She’s enchanting and captivating. Likea mythical creature that you know everything about and yet nothing at all. As if our eyes actually meet, that is all it takes for me to realize one singular fact. I will not…no… cannot ever kill her. Without ever loving her, I know in my soul that to kill her would be to kill myself. That I will forever be bound to her. We were born to be enemies, but what if we are made to be lovers? A rival painted in the blood of our grandparents, caused by treason. A treason that was unknowingly false. A treason that if not had happened, would not lead me to this moment of knowing her. A second fact comes to mind. One that my secret journal has taught me. If anyone was to find out the truth behind our grandparents, I would no longer have the opportunity to know her so closely and with reason. I would no longer be able to keep her safe in my ability to control the only weapon created to kill her, me. So I vow to never tell a soul of our family's secrets. I vow to keep her safe. But most importantly, I vow to marry this woman. Even if it takes her hating me first, I will find a way to insert myself into her life.
My eyes flutter open, the dreams fading as I search for her. Yet, they beg to close and be reacquainted with her all over again. I regain clarity just as my head turns to find her figure beside me in bed. Adjusting to lay on my side, I watch her chest rise and fall with each breath. I get lost in her features. The way her long lashes flutter softly as she dreams. Of what I do not know but would pay any price to see the deepest catacombs of her mind. I slide my eyes over her full slightly parted lips. Then trace the curve of her neck to where it meets her chest, over the mounds of her breasts, and below. There I find her large belly. The roundness of her femininity does nothing short of draw me in further. The way she grows life like a goddess. How she sustains and nourishes it as a willing sacrifice. I have never loved her more. My hand instinctually comes up to rest on her stomach.Beneath the surface, movement presses against my palm. Our child lays restless within her womb.Soon. Within a couple of months, we will have the honor of holding him in our arms.My wife and son.I will never feel deserving of her. Of them. Five years have passed since we said I do and not a day has gone by that I have felt worthy of loving her. Her stomach flutters again, drawing me back from my thoughts. I smile to myself before wrapping an arm around her small frame and pulling her into me. She nuzzles my bicep with her face like a sleeping cat in a sunny spot. I close my eyes, willing myself to dream of a future. One with them filling the silence and settling my chaotic soul.
Chapter Thirty Nine
A Raven’s Cry
“Sorren, baby! Come on. We need to leave. We are late!” I yell from the bottom of the staircase. This boy! You would think a three year old couldn’t possibly be so naughty until you remember who his father is.
“Sorren!” I call again. Just then the door behind me opens and waltzes in my entire world.
“Sorry, Siren. We took a walk out to the garden to collect flowers and bird watch.” Ghost says with a smiling Sorren in his strong arms. I take notice that in my son’s hands holds a bouquet of flowers.
“Ready to go?” I ask them both.
“Mommy, are we going to see Baby there?” Sorren asks.
“Yep! Aunt Scar finally had the baby.” He cheers in response.
We head out to the car and once all buckled in, head towards the city. After a short while, we arrive at the hospital and park in the parking garage. Ghost and I each take one of Sorren’s hands as we follow the signs guiding us to our destination. The maternity ward is quiet except for the occasional newborn cry as we walk the halls. The sweet smell and nurture inducing sounds bring me back to when Sorren was born. It was downpouring outside. The sky cracked with lightning and wind whipped the foliage around constantly. Of course my first child would be born during a fucking nor’easter. Ghost was in a panic that, honestly, was a bit comical. He rushed around, eyes wide, attempting to smooth his internal fear. Later, I found out that it was due to his fear of becoming just like his dad. He could never be a quarter of how shitty that man was. Good fucking riddance. The labor was rough and actually pushing him out was even harder. Ghost was so attentive. He almost looked pained throughout the process like my pain was his. Those first cries were unimaginable. So many thoughts. A living and breathing representation of our love. I would do anything to go back to that exact moment. We shared tears and disbelieved laughs. It was perfect…
“Are you thinking about when he was born?” Ghost asked. I nod in response.
“Me too.” He smiles softly. I lean in for a quick kiss.
We find the correct room number and knock before entering. James' muffled voice comes from behind the heavy wood door, beckoning us in. Ghost pushes the door open and we are met with a privacy curtain. I take the lead and push it open just as I say, “hello,” in a melodic way.
“Hello,” I receive back from Lucas.
There stands James and Lucas, relaxing on the couch. They look freshly showered but tired. My sights cast across the room to find Ryon hovering over Scarlett’s frame while she clutches onto a small bundle.
“Oh yay, you are all here!” I cheer, like I missed them. Yet, I see or speak to them daily.
“Where else would we be?” Lucas chuckles.
“Good point” Ghost says from beside me.
“Baby!” Sorren whines loudly while pulling on my skirt.
“Come here, honey.” Scarlett calls.
Happily, Sorren obliges. Running to her side and climbing onto the bed. He looks down at her in awe.
“It’s so small.” He says.
“All babies start this small, son.” Ghost says while walking to the side of the bed. He leans down and places a soft kiss to the top of Scar’s head.
“She’s beautiful,” he says.
“She really is. Her blonde hair is so light. I was kinda hoping for a red head.” She laughs at the end.
“She? It’s a girl?” Sorren asks in an obviously annoyed voice.
“Are you disappointed?” I ask him.
“I can’t play with agirl.” He whines.
“Of course you can. Look at me and your uncles. We got along just fine.” I say while looking at the guys, them nodding in response. Sorren still doesn’t seem satisfied with this information.
