The trill of his phone shattered the fragile silence, and Amara drew in a deep, steadying breath as she listened to the fading echo of his footsteps retreating. With a conscious effort, she resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder, feigning interest in the rows of books that stretched before her. Yet, her mind remained ensnared in a web of thoughts, rendering the titles and spines mere background noise to her contemplations.
The weight of his absence settled upon her, she released a heavy sigh, her movements slow and deliberate as she turned to face the space he had occupied moments before. Her eyes fluttered closed instinctively, capturing the lingering essenceof his presence in the subtle trace of cologne that lingered in the air.
Leaning back against the bookshelf, she surrendered to the vividness of her imagination, imagining his silhouette before her closed eyes with startling clarity. She reached out a tentative hand, tracing the imagined contours of his cheek with a tender caress.
A sharp swallow punctuated the silence as she lowered her hand, her eyes fluttering open to confront the stark reality of the space before her. The ache of longing throbbed within her chest, mingling with a palpable sense of apprehension that gripped her heart in its icy embrace.
Thespacewasempty.Andthehauntingemptinessscaredhermorethananything.Itwasa wishful thinking. So wishful that all she could do was cherish it in her heart.
CHAPTER 56
“What is it?” Kaelith's voice cut through the tension, his eyes narrowing with anticipation as his fists clenched.
The air hung heavy with tension as Kaelith waited on the other end of the line, his senses keenly attuned to Lorcan's hesitant breathing. With a deep breath to steady himself, Lorcan finally found the courage to speak, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "I... I got the footage."
Kaelith's reaction was instinctual, his body tensing as if struck by a bolt of lightning. Footage. The word echoed in his mind, a stark reminder of the harsh reality lurking just beyond the edges ofhis consciousness. Amidst the chaos of recent things, he had purposely let Amara's incident slip into the back of his mind, overshadowed by the overwhelming intensity she sparked in him.
Blood. It was all he could think of, the animalistic urge for blood pulsing through his veins like a relentless drumbeat. His inner beast roared to life, demanding revenge for the pain inflicted upon his angel, the purity of her innocence tarnished by the cruelty of another. The bastard he wanted to rip limb by limb and shred into tiny pieces for dogs to feed on.
He felt consumed by a murderous rage, his thoughts consumed by visions of violence and ferocity. The memory of Rafael's words whispered like a haunting buzz in the recesses of his mind, fueling the flames of his fury and pushing him ever closer to the brink of darkness.
She was raped.
Left to die on the road.
The woman he loved since he was a child, was left to die.
Kaelith shut his eyes, blocking the words as he mumbled, ever so calmly that even Lorcan was scared for a second. "Send it to me." A sharp edge crept into his tone, betraying the simmering darkness that churned within him.
A flicker of concern flashed in Lorcan’s voice, "Kaelith... will you be okay?"
There was a pregnant pause, his grip steeling on the phone. "Man, that’s… that’s some real horrifying... thing." Lorcan mumbled into the phone.
Kaelith's frustration boiled over, his words dripping with venom as he growled impatiently, "Fucking send me the file."
With a solemn gulp, Lorcan gave in, "I will."
Kaelith ended the call, yet the storm within him showed no signs of abating. His thoughts, like restless waves, crashed against the shores of his mind, relentlessly returning to her. Where was the end to this misery? And when she’d regained hold of her lost memories, would the ones he was in matter to her?
The looming specter of spending any second away from her haunted him, its icy fingers tracing along the edges of his neck with a steel-hard grip. Would she leave him once again, just like she did two years ago?
His jaw clenched. No. No, no, no. The love he held for her was not simply a fleeting emotion; itwas an all-inclusive desire, an animalistic instinct that surged through his veins with an unyielding intensity. He intended to claim her as his own, to bind her to him in a way that exceeded merelove. She would bear his name, and he, hers. He would be her man, and she would be his wife- Wife? The word hung.
He tilted his head, a soft smile teasing at the corners of his lips. Wife. The word resonated within him, conjuring visions of bliss and tender warmth. He could see her, envision her, playing the role of a perfect little wife for him. She would wait for him with bated breath. She would love him with an unwavering piety. And one day, she would bear his children.
He bit his lips and chuckled.“Amara.” He whispered in the breeze.
******
Amara looked back over her shoulder sensing as if someone called her. The soft breeze played with her hair as she carried the books to the counter. She looked back again wondering if she imagined the voice. Looking at the entrance, she looked for Kaelith, but he still wasn’t back.
She took a deep breath, grabbed some more books she thought she’d read at home and walked to the counter.
Kaelith reentered the bookstore, his gaze instinctively seeking her out until it settled upon her. There she stood, bathed in the soft glow of ambient light filtering through the windows, a representation of grace amidst the chaos. Before her, a towering stack of books wobbled riskily in her arms, straining against the limits of her slender frame.
Engaged in conversation with the elderly gentleman behind the reception desk, she seemed utterly captivated by whatever the man was saying. He took slow steps towards the counter standing behind her.
"And what do you suggest, Mr. Sanders? Are you a fan of fantasy?" Amara's voice carried a hint of curiosity, her eyes sparkling with interest.
