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He eyed her with a slightly raised brow. “Oh?” he said as he set the book on top of the chest and rose.
“You said the strangest things to me.”
He advanced on her, smiling a slow, pleased smile. “Did I?”
She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “Oh, well.” She turned before he could see the look of disappointment on her face.
He reached for her shoulders. “Come here, Stella,” he whispered, pulling her back against him.
Need and desire flared inside her. His lips caressed her temple, and she shivered against him. “I need you to do something for me.”
She closed her eyes and pressed herself back against him so every lean inch of him was touching her. “Anything.”
“I need you to break a spell.”
Stella stiffened, her eyes popping open.
So he did want her body after all. Well, of course he did! It was the only vehicle for him to bring his love back.
That’s just what Stella was to him. A body. Her insides recoiled at the thought. When he’d told her she was his last night, she’d foolishly imagined he meant something else. Now her heart felt like shriveling inside her.
“Come,” he whispered, taking her hand and leading her toward the chest. She followed hesitantly, watching him place a finger on the open book. The pages were old and yellowed, the letters written in an elaborate, old-world style.
“Read this, beautiful,” he said, tapping the page. “Read this and mean every word.”
She shook her head, taking a step back and looking up at him in confusion. “Gabriel, I—I don’t understand.”
He took both of her shoulders and squeezed. “Yes, you do, Stella.” His gaze was deep and piercing, filled with an odd sort of understanding that made her feel anxious and agitated.
“No, I—”
“You do understand, Stella. You understood even before me.” He shifted his hands up her neck, splaying them across her cheeks, his eyes looking deep into her own. “It’s you, Stella. It’s you, baby.” There was so much emotion in his voice that she felt a knot form in her throat.
“W-what do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember?” he asked, his tone filled with hope. “Don’t you remember me? Us?”
Stella stared up at him with wide, watery eyes that stung from the effort to hold back tears. She did remember. She remembered too much, in fact. But she’d never considered—or maybe she had, but she’d been much too scared to even admit—that those memories might actually be her own.
But they were, weren’t they?
They were as much a part of her as he was.
“Faith,” Stella whispered, her old name on her lips somehow sounding as familiar as her new one.
“You are Faith, Stella.” His hands squeezed her face in encouragement, then one of them flattened down over the page of the book. “Read it, beautiful.” Gabriel’s eyes were steady on hers. “Make peace with yourself so we can start over.”
Start over…
Stella held onto those words as if they promised her eternity. She’d been given another chance, but she had yet to live it. Had been too scared to live it. Maybe now she could make peace with Faith Harrison, with her cowardly old self.
Catching her trembling lower lip with her teeth, Stella turned to stare down at the Book of Shadows, Gabriel stepping behind her.
Slowly, hesitantly, she began to whisper the words, listening to his gentle voice behind her, speaking them in unison.
Remove the chains of time and space, and make my spirit soar, let these mortal arms embrace, the life that haunts before.
Everything. Everything she had tried not to remember. Everything which had been there, contained, on the edges of her mind, broke free and flashed before her eyes.
