AN ETERNAL LOVE

CHAPTER: 35

Damien was not going to Adira so he could spy on her, as Alex Davies wanted him to do. He was going

to warn her. Damien was certain she could have no clue what Alex suspected of her, or she would have

fled this place by now.

For just a moment, as he followed the coastal road that led along the edge of the peninsula,

overlooking the sea, he paused to wonder at the irony of what he was doing. Adira Thompson was

convicted of witchery and sentenced to death. He had seen her die with his own eyes, only to find her

alive and well, and again suspected of witchcraft. And yet, he, a man of God was about to warn her.

The worst part was that it wasn't that he disbelieved the accusations against her. Not that at all. It was

that he simply did not care. He did not care. He remembered all too well the way he had seen her

standing in the moonlight, and had felt the power surging from her hands into his body that night

aboard the ship. It could have been a dream, but he did not think so. And still, he did not care.

He wanted to see her again. To get to know everything about her. To understand her mind and the

mysteries of her soul. To know what she was thinking. And to see to it she remained safe from harm.

Nothing else mattered. And as little sense, as it made, he did not question it. It simply was.

Damien knew what he would report to Alex Davies, no matter what he found at Adira's cabin tonight. In

the morning he intended to assure Alex all was as it should be, thus ending the village elder's doubts.

But perhaps, not ending his lust.

Damien's flesh heated and he tugged at the tight collar that suddenly irritated his throat. He had worn a

pair of breeches and a white shirt, then. For some reason, he disliked the thought of going to Adira in

the robes of a priest. He sensed the clothing threatened her, and that was not what he wished to do.

He did not like thinking about the way Alex looked at Adira. He did not like Alex's insistence that all the

men of Sanctuary must be looking at her the same way as him. And he did not like that he also was

just as drawn to her as the rest. Because he wanted to believe that with him it was different.

At last her cabin came into view, and he saw the soft glow of candles in one of the windows. It was a

simple home, grey log cabin, set high on the cliffs and overlooking the Thunder Bay. Pretty white

curtains, perhaps made by Adira's own hands, hung in the few windows of imported glass. And the

door was made of a single thick board sawed from what must have been a mighty oak tree once. The

area around the house was lush with gardens. Herbs grew in patches along with vegetables and

flowering plants. All were bathed tonight in the light of the moon so that the place looked wild, untamed,

and mysterious. The waves crashing against the rocky shore far below were like a chorus, a magical

chorus. This place made him think of the enchanted palace where the sleeping princess of a fairy tale

awaited her rescue.

Damien moved closer, lifted his hand to tap on the door, only to pause when the sound of singing

reached his ears. Adira's voice, rich and beautiful, drifted over him like warm honey. He had heard that

voice in his dreams often the last three years. Heard it denouncing the crowd of bloodthirsty fanatics.

But he had never heard it sweetly singing the words of love.

I have been waiting for so long, to taste your sweet lips, my love. Holding you would be utter bliss, my

love. Come to me my love, for I have been waiting so long. Come to me my love, let us embark on a

journey of Eternal Love.

"Adira," he whispered. His heartbeat quickened, and his stomach muscles clenched as if in response to

her words. He tried to steady himself, but he was shaken to the core. And even as he tried controlling

himself not to, he leaned closer to peer through the window beside the door, where the white curtain

stood slightly parted.

Adira Thompson lay in a large metal tub, water and bubbles surrounding her. Her arms moved, long

and graceful. Water trickled over her neck and shoulders. Bare skin glistened in the candlelight as she

tipped her head back, eyes closed as if in some secret ecstasy. And Damien wondered if she was

thinking of him as she continued to sing.

I have waited for you these last few years, I have yearned for you in secret. I know my love, our love is

forbidden, but I have burned for you. Come to me, my sweet Damien, and tell me even you do. Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

She ran her fingertips slowly along the underside of her chin, tracing a path down over her neck, her

chest, and lower, to where he could no longer see.

And then, quite suddenly, she stopped. Slowly she lowered her head and gazed at the window where

he was gazing through, and Damien caught his breath. Her eyes met his, though he was certain she

could not see him out there in the darkness. Still, they met his and held them. He could not look away.

It seemed to Damien as if every cell in his body came to glowing life at that moment, stimulated by her

gaze and aroused to action. He tingled with awareness. As if he were the one caught naked and she

the one shamelessly looking on.

And as he remained there, fixed, he heard a female voice call Adira's name from another room. Adira's

head turned toward its summons. She briefly glanced toward the window again, and perhaps had a

slight smile on her lips. And then she rose from the water like a goddess, and Damien felt himself burn.

A/N: To be continued...