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Lifting my hand to his face, fingers shaking, aching, wanting nothing more than to meld with him.

To disappear in his skin.

My name escaping his lips, the sound like a moan. Like it pains him to say it. Like it pains him to feel me so close.

But I won’t let him continue, won’t let him speak. I just press my fingers to the gentle swell of his lips, discovering their warmth, the way they yield to my touch, and wondering what it would be like to press my mouth there instead.

Aware of the way his heart pounds against mine, the way it gains in intensity. And even though I try to fight it, even though I really and truly do make a full case against it, there’s just something I have to see for myself. Something I need to know, once and for all, so I can finally kill the question that plagues me. And I’m hoping his kiss will reveal it in the same way Damen’s once did.

Is there really a connection between us?

Is it the two of us that are supposed to be together, and Damen who purposely got in the way?

And knowing there’s only one way to find out, I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and wait for the crush of his lips against mine.

fifteen

“Ever, please.” His fingers caress the soft underside of my chin, urging me to open my eyes and look at him.

So I do. Reluctantly lifting my eyes to meet his. The startling blue-green of his gaze providing such stark contrast to the brown of his skin, the golden-bronze spray of dreadlocks that fall across his face, and his slightly crooked white teeth.

“I’ve wanted this for so long…for so many years, but first, before we do this, I need to know—”

I wait for the question—barely able to breathe.

Never expecting him to say the words: “Why me? Why now?”

I squint and lean back. That lure, that pull toward him that seemed so irresistible just a second ago, now starting to fade. Only a mere trace of it managing to hang on when I shake my head and say, “I don’t even know what that means.”

My fingers loosen their grip on his shirt, watching as a small square of fabric falls to the ground as I start to push away.

But he won’t let me go. Grasping both of my hands, and holding them tightly in his, he says, “What I meant was, what happened? What is it that changed between Damen and you that made you even think to consider me?”

I take a deep breath, take in his hands, his fingers entwined around mine, his wrist resting against the crystal horseshoe bracelet Damen gave me that day at the track, and this time, when I’m ready to move, I do. My breath slowly returning to normal again, the spell of him waning more and more with every step I put between us.

Knowing he deserves an answer, that there’s no way I can leave it like this, I take a deep breath and say, “I discovered something.” I sneak a quick peek before I quickly look away. “Something about the past…something that—” I swallow hard and start again, voice surer, stronger when I add, “Something he’s been hiding for a very long time.”

Jude looks at me without a trace of surprise. He’s alluded to Damen’s secrets on more than one occasion. Of his inability to fight fair, especially when fighting for me. But then, in Damen’s defense, he’s freely admitted to all of that too. In fact, he felt so bad, so wracked with guilt, he actually chose to step aside for a while so I could make a clean choice for myself.

And I did.

I chose him.

For me it was never a contest. From the moment we met, he’s all I could see.

But what if I’ve been wrong?

What if all this time—Jude was meant to be the one?

I mean, he’s stood right there beside me in all of my lives—including the one I just recently learned about. And yet he’s always the loser, always the one getting shot down. Always the one who ends up alone.

But what if it was never supposed to happen like that?

What if all this time, I’ve been so captivated, so swayed by Damen’s magick I’ve made the wrong choice every time?

Why is it that we keep coming back to each other again and again? Is it so we’ll have yet another chance at getting it right—to finally be together after all of this time?

I gaze at Jude standing before me—he’s mesmerizing. Not in the same way that Roman was with his slick, golden glossiness—or even in the way of Damen’s dark and sexy tingle and heat. No, Jude’s more the cool and dreamy type—seemingly normal on the surface, but deep down inside, he’s so much more.


Tags: Alyson Noel The Immortals Fantasy