Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 18893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
The window is fogged with droplets running down the glass. In those thin tracks, I can see her face.
See her eyes. See them widen as she notices my presence. My heart rages with her. I can practically feel her blood pounding through her veins.
Recognize me, I plead silently. Know me. You know me.
But she doesn’t. My throat tightens as I swallow, clenching and unclenching my fists. It’s been too long and still I cannot contain myself.
For a minute I let myself imagine opening the door to the café. Would she run from me? If she saw me, would she sense fear or something else? If she truly saw me. Adrenaline courses through me and I debate what to do. She walks faster when she thinks I’m nearby. I can tell she’s nervous by way she bites on her lip.
Part of me wouldn’t mind a longer chase, but I’m past the point of wanting to drag this out. My heart beats impatiently. If there was a spark of recognition in her eyes, I might take the chance, but there isn’t. There’s only fear.
I’ve done terrible things in my existence. Horrid deeds. But nothing could prepare me for what I made a deal to do. With a steadying breath I tilt my head back, feeling the rain. Feeling alive in a way I haven’t in so long.
I step away from the window and stay hidden behind the next building.
Waiting, planning, knowing I only have so much time.
When she comes out, she’s already moving quickly. She pulls the hood of her coat over her hair and goes down the street almost at a run. Someone watching might think it’s because of the rain. A damsel who does not care to be drenched.
But I know it’s because she can sense me. I know it’s fear that pushes her to move faster. Her fingers shake around her hood, and when it drops back off her hair, she doesn’t try to pull it up again. She only runs faster, turning a corner up ahead and disappearing.
I’m so far away, and yet I swear I can hear her heart beat and her breath quicken.
I could follow her if I wanted, but I go the opposite direction instead. A deep sorrow clenches around every limb.
Another woman steps out of a building down the block. A woman I recognize and one who is very well aware of what’s happening. I choose to follow her instead. A woman of influence and power. A beauty wars have been fought over.
Blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. A Greek god who stands out in this muted world. She must be here for me. For us.
I quicken my pace and correct my features, heart pounding with very real frustration, but she makes it difficult, going faster, too.
I catch up with Aphrodite and fall into step at her side. Her light hair is swept back from her face, and she doesn’t seem to care about the damp air.
“How long will it take?”
Her eyes flicker toward me. We’ve come to an intersection of two of Edinburgh’s old streets. This woman isn’t looking at me. She’s only looking to see if there’s traffic.
A car passes us, the tires squeaking on the cobblestones.
“How long will what take?” she asks.
I don’t want to play these games. Getting straight to the point will be faster, although I pay my respects. She granted me this gift. It is only because of Aphrodite a demon can walk the realms of Earth. “How long will it take for her to remember?”
Aphrodite purses her lips. She glances into a dark storefront as we pass it. Nothing inside catches my eye, and nothing seems to catch hers, either. The street we’re on and the storefronts seem meaningless.
All that matters is that Ivy remembers me.
“Those threads were cut,” comes the reply. She’s matter of fact. The goddess of love and beauty is short with me and my eyes widen, stinging with the past pain that clings to me harder the closer I get to her.
“But I remember.” My heart thuds with the agony of remembering so much when the only love I’ve ever known remembers nothing. We’ve had lifetimes together. Every lifetime. My soulmate, my everything. Ripped apart only at our last death. The memories flash before my eyes. The rage and the brutal sadness.
“I’ve spent weeks following her around Edinburgh, hoping she’ll turn around and her eyes will light up with all that’s passed between us, but she’s only getting further away. She walks fast on the street and ducks into cafés and shivers when she feels me following her like I’m a stranger who wants to do her harm.”
Her pale blue eyes pierce into mine. “You weren’t sent back. How can she remember what does not exist? How can she remember when the Fates cut the threads?” She is only factual. Logical. Although it feels cold, the gods have a way of coming off as such.