Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (75 page)

              I’m unable to fully digest what had just happened to me. One moment I was in my father’s protective arms, the next every cell on my body was on full alert. Like when a house is in complete darkness and the next thing you know, thousands upon thousands of light bulbs are illuminated with enough power to blackout an entire city. I felt as if I’d been struck by lightning over and over again at the base of my spine. The single point of energy floods through my body at the speed of light. Sights and scents are immensely amplified that the onslaught of those senses immediately assaults my eyes and nostrils. I close my eyes tightly yet I continue to see. My nostrils flare up immediately in protest, overwhelmed with the sensory invasion. Every cell in my body is on fire. I can even feel the weight of air on me. Thousands of voices near and far, fire, dampness, brimstone and the putrid stench of Tartarus, even the scent of darkness attacks my senses. The multiple jolts from the same point of entry continue to strike the base of my spine. The shock of it travels through my entire body and finally reaches my heart, jolting it with a shock with repeated bolts of energy. My body goes in the mode to protect itself. I can even see a reflective layer of light, an electromagnetic spectrum that emanates a blue aura enveloping my heart to deflect the jolts of electricity.

             
“Elissa! Please! Don’t resist!” I hear his voice. His voice… among the assaults of sensory overload, this single sound focuses my universe, dispersing all other sounds and scents.

             
“That’s it, angel,” he gently encourages me. “You are doing great! Focus on my voice, baby. And come to me.”

             
“Alex?”

             
His voice nearly chokes on a sob. “Yes, baby, yes. Come towards my voice,” he whispers with a tinge of relief.

             
“Where are you? I…” my voice chokes in my mind when I’m jolted to my core. The aura surrounding my heart glows brilliantly; the surge of energy first clasps then tightens its grasp, bearing down to restart my heart. My body is not in my control; my mind is in the command center, but the onslaught of information all at once makes me feel helpless. Finding the change alien, my mortal body resists the transformation. What if I will permanently die here and never see Alex again? The thought is unbearable. Another jolt blasts and spreads through my cells. My soul which is trapped at the base of my spine stirs, ready to take over my renewing body. I can now feel the pull, the reeling of my body by an invisible force. I hear and feel rather than see the loud slamming of the stone gate and seal with fire over my father’s eternal prison. This time, I feel my heart beat once.

A distant voice echoes in my head: “
We’re out of time! You have to do it now! Now, Duke! Release her soul!
” Alex? The voice distances again as I get snagged.

“I caught you!”

Powerful arms grasp me in mid-flight. The voice sounds familiar yet foreign as if it’s trying to locate the correct pitch and vernaculars. His words try to unlock something in my mind, in my soul. I keep my eyes closed, not trusting my newfound amplified senses. He continues to plead with me, urging me to look at him. I don’t trust anything down here. Nieto is gone, and I’ve lost my connection to Alex and the Duke. Yet, the note of this voice is beyond familiar. Are my new senses failing me? The touch of the arms holding me feels familiar not in the way I know the touch but as if his touches speak to an unknown sense I have never utilized: The
sense of memory
. His touches are speaking to my body memory! His arms encircle my torso, under my breasts. His caress is utterly sensual; coaxing, appealing, arousing not just my overly sensitized skin, but also awakens the sense I didn’t know I possessed before. Two long finger caress the top of my breast so lasciviously, I’m about to jump out of my skin. I want to pull away from him, but I’m helpless against it because this newfound sense is consummately heady, inebriating and appealing to my curiosity. His fingers purposefully, skillfully, sensually run over the curve of my breasts. Then he gently lifts those same fingers making them hover only a breath away from my skin, searching something. When those fingers locate what they’re looking for, a deep triumphant groan escapes his throat and the deluge of memories sprout from the base of my right breast, first breaking out, then lifting up, then finally flooding and encompassing my entire body. It reaches my Life Source at the base of my spine before I can even blink, it is immediate. I feel my soul bursting out and bonding with my former memories. That’s when he finally makes contact with my skin again. His fingers continue circling the base of my breast, seemingly massaging the release of each burgeoning memory with each simple stroke and tender caress.

Everything happens so fast… I try to move away from his arms, yet, I also want to stay wrapped into his embrace. “Hey!” he sooths me in a gruff voice. I close my eyes tighter. I don’t trust the yearning I have inside of me for this familiar sound.

“It’s me baby!” he whispers in a darkly sensual tone. It’s the voice of my husband! But, Marcus said that I’d be tricked here. I turn my head away from the voice. Then I feel his warm breath caressing my ear like he did the last time.

“Look at me! It’s me!” he urges, pleading, worried, anticipatory. I don’t want to give into him. But then, I want to give in, hold him, never let go! I’ve lost him before; I’ve lost him when I was thrusted into Tartarus. I don’t want to lose him again.

‘
What if this place is playing tricks on you?
’ I remind myself. With the gripping worry, I struggle against the arms holding me, pleading with him to let me go. He pleads back to look at him again, and again. Would it hurt just to take a peek? Just to confirm what I feel in my soul, in every single cell of my body? I desire to see him with my inhumanly sharp sight. Just once! His voice is so much clearer; I can detect every pitch in his intonation with my acute hearing. Yet my sense of memory is rapidly categorizing it and finding flaws in this voice I yearn! Surely it must mean something! But what?

I finally blink and slowly lift up my heavy lidded gaze at the face I have been longing to see. I meet with his worried turquoise eyes looking at me, pleading. His dark blonde curls touch his shoulders; a slight breeze in this damp corner of Tartarus ruffles them gently. My heart constricts, and wrenches. The single beat it produces turns into two, three, four and rapid succession of beats. Can this really be him? He was just trying to guide me back with his voice. How is this possible? That angular, well-chiseled face is exactly the way I remember. His scorching gaze of a predator sees through my inner struggle and doubts. His eyes and words plead with me to remember him.

Can I trust my hearing or sight in Apollyon’s domain even if it is amplified? My mind simply could be playing a trick on me. I’m overwhelmed. The man from my dreams and my memories nods his understanding of my reticence and shows me something… My breath hitches with the sight of it. It’s a gift I received as a wedding present.
My wedding!
Why would he present that particular item? He gave me three gifts on our wedding day, declaring our mutual ownership of each other’s hearts, bodies and souls. What he’s presenting me now was only one of the items that were given to me representing our sexual bond. As the item touches my skin, I feel the heat rising in me as if the eagles on my arms have taken flight, setting fire to my body in their wake even though there’s no rise in temperature from the environment. This was the last item I received on our wedding night. He instructed me to not to remove my bridal veil on the wedding night until I was beyond any doubt satisfied that he gave himself to me body and soul.

“What custom is this?” I asked.

“In my ancient land, noble women, those who were of value in character were sacred. Only the worthy male of her regard, the one she deemed worthy to be her husband could lift the bridal veil, to have and to hold her for as long as they both lived after the vows of constancy were exchanged. It is sensual, mysterious, and erotic but above all, when she allows him to lift the veil, she finds him, and only him to be deserving of the love and devotion of her soul, the pleasures of her body, and the favors of her regard. That is her signal to her beloved that he is the one that completes her,” His fingers gently caressed my face over the veil.

Then
he made a sensual circuit around me, never lifting his trailing fingers off as if he was anxious to unwrap the most anticipated gift.

“I want to be sure beyond the shadow
of any doubt in your mind, heart and soul that I am the one you wish to submit yourself to tonight.”

“I married you Alexander, I’m already yours,” I whispered ready to give myself to the only man I ever loved.

“I want to hear it from your lips, Elissa. Let me show you the ways I can love you… Please…” he pleaded with me.

“
Yes! Show me all the ways you love me, Alexander!” I whispered fervently looking up at him through my veil.

“First this…” he said and
opened his palm. An intricately designed small jewelry box appeared. I opened it and the content, a necklace dazzled my eyes.

“A pomander?” I asked.

“Yes, but it is more,” he said and took it out for me. He twisted open to reveal the writing within. He was both anticipative and nervous for my reaction. I took it from him and held it in my hand for a long minute.

The engraving took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes.

*
Not one moment shall you forget: I’m your lover, your soulmate, your husband.    Love, Alexander
*

             
Then he removed it from my palm, locked it back up, reopened my hand and deposited it into my grasp. He lifted my chin up and bore his gaze into my eyes.

“
I want you to know that I have loved you willingly from the first moment I got a glimpse of you. No coercion, no forcing, just me... It’s very important that you remember this and remember my instructions, angel. If,” he said pained with what he was about to say, “you ever find yourself lost and can’t find me, twist it in the direction of four cardinal Winds,” then he added with firm, staccato words: “First north, then west, then east, then south.” I twisted the body of the pomander at its base as he directed. When it made a distinct chiming sound, he asked me to place my thumbs on opposite sides on the little globe.

“You must hold it in the palm of your left hand. Your left thumb must depress the globe facing towards you, while your right thumb must face away from you. Once this little necklace reads your thumbprints, it opens to divulge its mysteries,” he
explained. I held the delicate item in my left palm and just as he instructed and it opened up after I placed both my thumbs as he specified.

I had never seen anything so beautiful, so mesmerizing, yet so delicate in my life! Tiny gears turned and something that looked like Orion’s belt appeared within.

When I asked him what this priceless jewelry was, completely mesmerized, he whispered with a husky voice: “
A catcher of the stars
. It’ll show you the way home.” It was an astrolabe hidden in a pomander necklace; the likes of which I had never seen before or since. I tried to swallow, but my words were entangled and snarled in my throat, as I peered at him with an irrevocable love, longing and adoration for him and this gift. Alex looked more anxious.

“Who could create such a masterpiece?” I
whispered. It was clearly evident that that was one of a kind.

“The place or the persons who made this no longer exist, but the memories do. Do you like it?” he murmured, worried how I would react.

“I absolutely love it! Thank you!” I hurled myself at him. I’m so touched with the words he inscribed, with the care of his choice, I couldn’t hold my tears. I kissed his cheeks, his jaw and his neck with a string of tears washing my face, lifting the lace veil only to expose my lips.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he ask
ed, worried about my tears. I didn’t answer. He looked at me, and I nodded. He lifted my veil and immediately my lips molded over his and soon he reciprocated. His hands caged my face. Ravenous passion exploded between us. My tongue slid over the seam of his lips; he parted them welcoming my tongue, but the master in him possessed my tongue sucking it with deep, sensual licks. Passion spread like wild fire all over my body and he lifted me off the floor to take whatever I wanted of his body and soul. I only stopped kissing him when we were both breathless.

“Heaven…” he whispered into my lips then. “Ancient lovers believed that the soul was carried in one’s breath, so a kiss would unite the two souls. You are half my soul. Your kisses are binding, magical, intoxicating,” he murmured.

“I have two more gifts to give you,” he said and gave me an ornate casing with a letter sealed with red wax and it was stamped with some sort of official looking royal stamp. With shaky hands I broke the seal and opened the letter. The letter was written with bold and daring strokes of a man on a parchment the likes of which I’ve not encountered before. I exhaled a shaky breath and read his written missive:

             
“
My angel, my lover, all of my heart and half of my soul,

Has there been any man or angel who ever existed who could love you as much as I love you at this moment and will love you a thousand times more tomorrow? No, never! Most assuredly, I’m not trying to be facetious or arrogant, my angel. Because you, indeed possess all of my heart and half of my soul.