The Elven King's Consort

Chapter 25: Fate

This man that I had told myself to forget he ever existed after hearing he had been killed was now towering over me. He had grown taller, and his once slender physique had vanished. The chest and shoulders rippled with muscles and were so broad I felt boxed in with no end in sight. That boyish face was now replaced with one of a man gone to the depths of the eternal pit of flames and suffering and back. His jawline was chiseled and strong, and a five o'clock shadow connected from one side to the other.

Embedded in his right cheek were two deep scars, and when I glanced at his eyebrow where he had gotten accidentally hit by me eight years ago, no scar had formed; instead, another took its place, cutting through his thick brow and ending just before his dark caramel thick long lashes. His burgundy blood, red colored hair was now touching his shoulders and ran in lazy waves, course and full.  The same eyes that once smiled at me whenever he laughed in the past now looked hollow and soulless. But I knew this was Cesteil regardless of the changes. What on earth had happened to him?

"Cest-" I opened my mouth to call out his name when one of his hands released mine and placed his free one now over my mouth, gently silencing me. It wasn't harsh or hard to breathe. Rather, the hand sat loosely.

He shook his head no, and for a moment there, his eyes had softened, but when I looked more intently, they returned to those emotionless. Slipping his hand down from my mouth, he then released my hand that still hung in the air near my arrows. I let it fall without taking a weapon and waited for his next move.

Reaching into the chest of his shift, he pulled out a small pouch and a traveling stone then placed them into my hand. I frowned and looked from the items to him, confused.

"Go back home, Nadalia."

I could've melted under him like fresh butter on a warm, sunny summer day. His voice was so smooth and arousing. The boyish, slightly feminine tone had disappeared; now, a man had replaced that innocence. But I wasn't going to be swayed so easily! Squeezing the items, I glared up at him, ignoring the urge to stare at his lips or that defined body.

"Why?"

"It's not your battle...it isn't safe...Go home-"

"Why is it that the first thing you say to me after all these years is to go home?" I yelled, cutting him off, feeling hurt and angry for the way he was yet again pushing me away. Did I mean nothing to him?

His eyes widened, frowning; he placed a tender hand atop my fist, still squeezing the items.

"Go home, Nadalia." He commanded once again.

"Bastard. How dare you show yourself to me after all this time only to say such stupid words. I won't go home, and I won't be needing this junk!"

Throwing the items to the ground, I walked around him, fuming. How could I believe he'd show an ounce of interest when he'd been alive for eight years and never once had he reached out to me? Stupid Cestiel! Stupid me! I wanted to cry so badly, but I forced myself not to.

My wrist was firmly grabbed and turned, forcing my whole being to face him again, only to miss colliding into his chest narrowly. Pressing my free hand against the solid muscle, forcing myself to push against him, and looking away, he, in turn, shuffled through my fingers atop his chest and pushed the items thrown to the ground, now covered in dirt and grass, back into my palm and shut it tightly. Releasing me, he stepped back, and I couldn't help but stare at the items for a long time before looking back at him. The tears that threatened to fall through the cracks had long dried up, and the ache in my heart was replaced with a growing resentment.

"Keep them. They will protect you," he said sternly, but this time, there was another emotion I couldn't name laced within his voice.

Opening my hand, I undid the bag and emptied its contents, and I nearly dropped everything again to the ground in shock. My eyes about popped out of their sockets. He had given me the same sapphire earrings I had been plagued with at the Vampire Kingdom—the ones I had tossed into the murky red clay ground of a pond deep in the forest. I looked up at him, almost visibly trembling. He was 'Fate.' I had so many questions.