Chapter 1

Ready for another adventure?

Special thanks to those of you that have supported me through the years. This is the start of something else good, and I hope you all enjoy it! - E. B.

"I planted some roses in the garden today," I said in attempt to break the dreadfully long silence that had paraded Raoul and my dinner.

"You really shouldn't be doing that," Raoul said as he shoved another piece of meat in his mouth. "That's why we have servants. Really, Christine, I thought you would be getting used to that by now.

I nodded and tried my best not to cry. I had tried for weeks to convince myself that I was happy, but the truth was that I was miserable. All I had to do all day was sit and maybe read if I happened to find a book I hadn't read yet. "I'm sorry, darling."

"It's no matter," Raoul said as he reached over to pat my hand.

"Did you have a good day?"

"In all honesty, Christine, I'm not in the mood to talk about it."

I nodded sadly. "Well, if you change your mind, you know I'll be here to listen."

"That's sweet of you, darling, but I think I need to finish up some business. I'll be upstairs when you're ready to say goodnight."

I nodded. He was going to leave me to finish a meal by myself again. "You aren't planning on working tomorrow night, are you?"

"I sort of was. Why do you ask? Is there something going on tomorrow?"

I was devastated. "The wedding, Raoul, we're getting married tomorrow. We are getting married tomorrow, right?"

"Ah, of course!" he said kissing my forehead. "Yes, we are getting married tomorrow. Goodness, I suppose the date slipped up on me didn't it. Well, for you, I will not work tomorrow night if that is what my bride wishes."

I gave him a small smile as he tapped my nose like one would a child. "That would make me happy, Raoul. Thank you."

"Well, I'll do it for you, but I'm really busy. I'll be in my office."

"Alright."

And that was that. That's how every night had gone. I was tired of it. I tried to convince myself that I wasn't crazy, that I was just still adjusting to life outside the opera house. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know where to go, but I knew I had to get out of there at least for a little while.

I left my dinner unfinished on the table and when upstairs an hour or so behind Raoul. I tapped on his office door, and he told me I could come in.

"Raoul?" I said softly. "I think I'm going to retire early so I can get some rest for tomorrow. I just came to say goodnight."

I saw him down a drink before he turned around. He stumbled and hit his leg on his desk. He was drunk. I had never seen him drunk before.

"Yes, yes, I'll see you tomorrow," he said pinching the bridge of his nose. He sounded annoyed with me.

"Aren't you going to say goodnight?"

"Goodnight, Christine. Go to bed," he slurred.

I gave him a slight curtsy and turned around to leave, but he caught me by the wrist making me cringe slightly with pain.

"I will see you tomorrow, Christine."

I nodded slightly confused as to why he was behaving such a way. "Yes, you will."

The grip on my wrist tightened, and I couldn't hold in my squeal. "Promise me, Christine," he growled.

"I promise," I whimpered.

He let me go, and I took off running to my bedroom. I locked the door behind me as tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt awful. I want to know what I had done to upset him. He had never behaved that way towards me before. Was it the wedding? Did he not want to marry me? Was I not good enough for him? I really wanted some air, but I didn't want to make Raoul angry. He wouldn't want me out in the middle of the night. The only other logical solution to the situation was to sleep, so I tried to.

Oh, god, did I try to sleep. I just couldn't do it.

I lied there for what seemed like hours, but when I raised my head, it was only 10:30. I couldn't stand it. I wrapped my robe around my waist and snuck out of the estate. I had fully intended on just going for a walk. I needed the air to clear my head. I had walked around the house twice when the light from Raoul's bedroom flashed on.

His window flew open, and my heart fluttered in a panic. "Christine!" he yelled. "Get inside, dammit! Don't you dare cry, Christine!"

I hid my glassy eyes. "Please, Raoul, I was just walking around the grounds."

"You're a liar! You're a little liar, Christine!"

I knew he only said it because he wasn't sensible, but it hurt. His words cut like a knife. I was crying like a child, and he told me not to cry. I turned around and started to run. I really wasn't thinking. My feet just pounded against the ground. Raoul was yelling, but between his slurred speech and loud voice, I couldn't tell what he was saying.

I ran into the stables and slung myself on a horse. I spurred it to run as fast as it could go. Perhaps I was being overdramatic, but I couldn't help it. I needed to leave. I needed the fresh air. I would be back to marry him in the morning, and he wouldn't even remember what happened.

When I felt that I had gotten far enough away from the mansion, I slowed the horse down to a trot. No one was in sight except for some girl in a pale blue dress that was some great distance away. I wiped my tears as I let the white mare travel down the street in any direction. I didn't really care where it took me. It just so happened that I passed the girl.

"Meg?"

She gasped and clutched her hand to her breast. "Christine? What are you doing out this time of night?"

"I – I just needed some air."

"You should be resting. It's nearly midnight! Aren't you to be married in the morning?"

I slowly nodded. "Yes, but Raoul and I got in a fight. I just needed to get out for a while."

Meg looked around to make sure no one was watching them and approached Christine's horse. "If you promise to tell no one where we are or mention to my mother that you were there, you should come to the cottage we've been in. I miss talking to you desperately."

Christine nodded and helped her friend on to her horse. Meg directed the way until they were in an old, deserted cottage just on the edge of the city. It was obviously once a lovely place. It was surrounded by trees and in a pretty little secluded area. They tied the mare to a tree and left it some water before Meg tugged her into the house.

"Mother's asleep," Meg said in a low voice. "We can't wake her, but I have to tell you something."

"Yes, Meg," I whispered back. "Tell me whatever it is."

"Christine, it isn't exactly easy to say. We have to hide here because… because…"

"Because what, Meg?"

Meg took in a shaky breath and leaned in closer. "I know where your angel of music is, Christine."

The breath hitched in my throat as my shaking hands rested in Meg's. That was the last thing I was expecting to hear, but for some reason, it felt good. Some form of hope that had been asleep in me was reawakened.

"Where is he?" I whispered shakily.

She shook and looked around nervously. "Christine, he – he's here."

The room was spinning around me. I thought I was going to faint, but I knew I had to resist. "Pl-please, Meg, let me see him."

"Christine, I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Please, Meg," I suddenly, desperately sobbed, "I need to see him. I need proof that he's alive."

Meg looked around and took the lit candle in her hand. "Promise me you'll scream if he does anything to upset you."

"Meg, he would never hurt me."

"Promise, Christine."

"Fine," I sighed, "I promise."

She handed me the candle and took out a key from her pocket to open a door to a cellar beneath the house. Timidly, I descended down the dark, cold stairs, my heart racing at what I might find. I heard the lock click behind me. Meg must have locked the door behind me.

As I descended down the stairs, I heard whimpering. As my feet quietly touched the last stone step, I could barely see in the bit of starlight shining through the small barred window near the ceiling my angel sitting in the corner on a pile of hay. He was singing something under his breath as his hands appeared to subconsciously grope and pull at his hair. His knees were drawn to his chest and his foot was tapping impossibly fast. He looked like a mad man that shouldn't dare be disturbed, but something about him was still so entrancing. I didn't even have to think about walking towards him. I just suddenly found myself kneeling at his side. My hand gently rested on his and pulled it away from his hair.

I had apparently frightened him because he jumped back. "Angel, it's me," I said softly.

He retreated back into his shell, pulling at his hair again. I heard him mutter something like, "She's not real, she's not real, she's not real…," and my heart broke into a million pieces.

"Angel, it's okay," I whispered as I rested my hands on his again. "I'm here. It's your Christine."

His teary eyes looked up at me, and suddenly they were filled with rage. "Get out of here, you figment of my insanity!" he yelled. He lunged for me, and I felt his hands clasp around my neck. His icy blue eyes bore chillingly into mine as I desperately tried to pry his fingers from my neck. I had never realized how strong he really was. I felt nothing but panic as I tried to worm my way out of his grasp.

Then all of the sudden, the determination in his eyes melted, and his grip loosened. I fell gasping for air, but he caught me.

"Christine," he muttered in a breathy whisper. "You're real. Oh god, you're real." He knelt to the ground, still holding my trembling body against him. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Christine. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he said through tears.

I had every reason to be angry, but I wasn't. Somehow I immediately forgot what even happened when I heard his heart pounding beneath my ear. I just hugged him. I needed him.

He let go of me and shook his head. "You probably hate me. I'm so sorry, Christine."

I just held him tighter and cried against his shirt. "Don't let me go, Angel. Please, I want you to hold me."

Timidly and shakily, he wrapped his arms tenderly around me.

"Why did you let me go, Angel?" I whispered through my tears. "I chose you, and you let me go. Why?"

"Christine, you deserve to be with someone who can give you fine jewels and furs – someone who can give you mansion and everything you've ever desired. What can I give you? A few pieces of sheet music?"

"I don't want jewels. I don't want furs and country-side villas. I just want love."

"Raoul loves you, Christine."

I shook my head slowly. "He loves the idea of me. You love me. Do you want to know how I know?"

"How?"

"You gave me a choice. You always give me a choice. You just want me to be happy. Raoul thinks I'm supposed to turn into this aristocrat that I'm not. I just can't take it anymore! I hate coming home to silent dinners and separate bedrooms. I hate kisses that feel more like obligations than tokens of love. I hate living in that place! I feel like a caged bird that isn't allowed to sing! I hate it!"

"Shh, Christine, it's alright," he said as I clutched my throat. It hurt from the bruise he had left when I yelled. "Wait. Christine, he won't let you sing?"

Tears flowed from my eyes as I looked at the floor. "It's not what a Vicomtesse is supposed to do." He looked at me in silence as I dried my eyes with the back of my hand.

He gently reached over and pulled my hand in his lap. He stared at it for a moment before tracing the bruise with his fingertips that Raoul had left earlier. I didn't have to tell my Angel who did it. He knew. Slowly, as if time was being slowed down by molasses, he pushed my sleeve back and pressed his lips to my wound, I could have sworn that my heart was going to beat right out of my chest.

"Angel, I –"

"Christine," he said cutting me off, "my name is Erik."

"What?"

"Stop calling me an angel when you know I'm not. My name is Erik."

"Erik," I whispered, savoring the way it sounded to hear his name roll off of my tongue.

He released my hand as he stared into my eyes. He was so close. I wanted him to kiss me more than anything, but it was in that moment that I realized something: Erik never did anything I didn't give him permission to do first. He didn't touch me until I touched him. He never made me sing. It was always my choice. He never grabbed my hand. He offered it to me to take. I had to show him that this was okay.

I only had to lean in a little for our lips to meet. He was paralyzed the same way he had been when I had kissed him the first time. I put my hand around his neck forcing him closer. Eventually, he gave in, his soft lips wrapping around mine. I could have sworn that I felt the blood course through every vein in my body right in that moment. This time I was the one paralyzed as I felt his hand tangle in my hair. I began to feel more alive, more free, as he ironically wrapped me tighter in the cage of his embrace. My fingers subconsciously popped the first couple buttons of his shirt, but he quickly pushed me away.

"Christine, I can't," he whispered. "We can't."

I felt my cheeks deeply flushing as I looked away from him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't misunderstand me. I want you. You're all I've ever wanted."

"Then have me."

I could tell that both of us were astounded at the words that came out of my mouth. I didn't mean to say that. It just happened. I expected him to be mad or even so shocked that he just ran away, but I was proven extremely wrong. After just a minute moment of staring at one another, his mouth hungrily crashed into mine. I had never been kissed like that before. It felt like I had been set on fire. It wasn't like Raoul's kisses. This was passionate. It made me feel loved. I popped open another button of his shirt as his hands roamed up the back of my dress and then my corset.

I could hear it start to rain outside as Erik's lips kissed along the bruise that throbbed on my neck. A couple of cold drops of water hit my hot skin. It felt as though all of my senses were heightened as Erik made love to me. Despite the dark, I could see his eyes twinkling in the starlight as he looked at me. His heart was like music, and the scent of his cologne was fogging my thoughts. His fingertips delicately brushed over every inch of my skin. One would expect his hands to be rough from his years of playing his music, building things in the basement of the opera, and whatever else he could possibly get into, but his hands weren't rough. In fact, they felt like silk.

Some hour later on, Erik pulled a thin quilt around the both of us as I lied on the pile of hay, my mind so overloaded and tired that I couldn't hold my eyes open. I fell asleep to the sound of Erik humming in my ear as he kissed the back of my neck.

I was convinced that that was the best night I would ever have in my entire life. I wasn't Raoul's caged lark anymore. I was free. I was loved, and most of all, I was complete when I was in Erik's arms. I don't know why it had taken me so long to see the mysterious, dark man's light.