And Yet They Shine
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Prelude
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The boat carried them on and Bella stayed tucked into his chest. She'd slipped an arm around his waist, and he'd brought his suit jacket over her, covering her with it, like a blanket. She was tender cargo; he would provide safe passage.
As the light grew, so did her bravery. She peeked out from his lapels until the peeks became stares, her dark eyes wide, pupils crowding out the irises, absorbing each bit of light in the dank, shadowed tunnel. Edward tucked his head to hers and breathed her in, over and over. He did not smell the musty scent of the underworld, and the water of the Styx was neither sweet nor bitter to him. Instead he smelled her, took her inside of him, the tiny molecules of her scent swimming in his veins, making his heart pound with wanting her, ever closer, ever more.
He was lost in it, sick with it, until what started as a whisper became a frantic cry, pulling him out of his reverie of fragrant dreams and back into the dark.
"Edward! Edward!"
He pulled away to find her eyes round and panicked. "You're hurting me," she said, looking down at his hand on her upper arm. He pulled away from her as though stung, holding his hand out and looking at the offending appendage as though he'd never seen it before. Bella reached up and rubbed her arm and Edward took a step away, his face drawn into a mask of revulsion.
"Did I – are you okay?"
She pouted her lips as she rubbed her arm and met his eyes with reproach.
"Fine," she said, then looked down.
He reached for her, and then drew back. "May I?" he asked.
She nodded, still staring at her feet. Edward pulled at the sleeve of her dress, careful not to touch her skin. There were five red dots where his fingers had been, glaring back at him from the white of her flesh. He bent toward her, and without a word, blew soft, warm breath against the marks.
"There," he said. "All better."
Bella looked down at her arm and saw that the marks were gone. The sting had eased. "What did you do?" she asked.
"Only what I could."
She stared up at him, eyes no longer fascinated with earthen walls filled with bone and shining gems. She studied him and he was beautiful in the half-light. He was pale skin and dark eyes, and he watched her gaze with indulgence stamped across his pretty face.
"Just because you fixed it doesn't mean that it's okay." Her eyes sparked in the low light and the corner of his mouth quirked up at this tiny girl, bossing a god as though she had power.
"Oh, pretty Isabella."
At the sight of his smile Bella felt her anger bubble into something more. Her cheeks flushed hot with fury, and she wanted to stamp her foot and tell him not to laugh at her. Instead, she did what she could and turned away from him. Their small boat swayed and he placed a steadying hand on her arm.
"No," she said, her voice low, and jerked away from his grasp. Water sloshed over the side of the shell and Edward, quick with instinct, pulled her up, into his arms before a drop could touch her skin. She squirmed in his arms but he held her fast, and she yelled for him to let her go and he yelled for her to still.
A tiny island made of sand lay ahead and Edward nodded toward it, then whispered quick words into the dark air. In a moment their vessel had run aground and Edward leapt from the tortoise shell, delivering Bella to the ground.
The girl shook herself from his grip.
"Don't you ever!" she yelled. "Who do you – you can't just do that, Edward. She paced the beach, her bare feet digging in to the soft, warm earth.
He stood before her and allowed her to rage at him. He found her fury adorable and he allowed it to play out until she looked at him, eyes blazing.
"Well?"
"You were about to splashed with water. I didn't think you'd want that."
"I don't mind getting a little wet, Edward."
He smiled at her, a crooked grin that made her feel foolish and yet drew her in.
"If your heart is pure, the River Styx will grant you invulnerability. But if your heart harbors doubts, or fears, the Styx will only magnify those thoughts, until they consume you, for eternity."
Bella's mouth gaped, then closed. She sat down on the ground and rested her head on her knees.
"Is your heart pure?" he asked.
Bella closed her eyes and he had the answer to his question. He hated himself for asking it, because he hated being right.
The petulant god stood and looked at his prize. Her white skirt and white skin were bright marks against the dark sand, dark walls, dark water. He'd been a fool to believe that the soft girl before him would stay with him of her own volition. Foolish to believe she would choose the dark over the light.
"Come on," he said, reaching out for her hand. "I'll take you back now."
The girl on the ground squeezed her eyes shut. She fisted her hands into the sand, the tiny grains of volcanic glass feeling smooth and loose under her fingers. She clenched, until the rough earth dug into her palms, and her hands grew hot with pressure.
"Don't," he said, pulling her hands away and uncoiling her tightly wound fingers. He stroked them with his own, then blew across them and Bella felt the flesh of her palms cool. He sat down next to her and she opened her eyes to look at him.
"You keep pushing and pulling, and I can't get my balance," she said. Edward nodded and looked down at their feet.
"You still love him," he said. "I don't want you to."
"I don't either," she answered. "But the heart wants what the heart wants."
"I want you to want me."
"You don't let me. You keep pushing. You show me," she swallowed. "You show me amazing things and then tell me to go away."
The god sat down, weary, next to the fresh, new human. She remained with her head bent onto her knees and her long dark hair spilled over her shoulders, off to one side. At the nape of her neck he saw the soft, fine hairs and he wanted to blow across her skin to see them rise. Under his gaze, they rose anyway and she shivered.
"Too cold?" he asked.
She nodded but then stopped. "Not cold," she answered.
He reached out and stroked a single finger, and then the back of his hand across her fair flesh.
He heard her heartbeat quicken as her face stayed smooth.
He threaded his fingers through her hair, gentle pressure on her scalp. Her lips opened with a soft pop and she breathed in, deep.
He leaned in closer and was immersed in her scent once again, the sweet of her skin and he fought it, fought the urge to sink again into it, and instead nudged his nose against the curve of her ear.
She let out a long, shaky breath and he saw the wetness seeping from her lashes.
"I want you to take me home," she said. Edward gasped, and she turned and caught his wrist before he could pull away. She stared into his eyes and he saw that hers were clear, and steady.
"But if you do I'll hate you for it. And me, too."
His eyes sought focus somewhere over her shoulder. "You know, you're going to hate me anyway."
"I don't have to," she said.
Edward had lived almost from the beginning of time. He had warred with the Titans and overthrown his own father. He had met the challenges of new gods, and had studied the behavior of man for what seemed to him to be an eternity. Yet all of his years, all of his experience, it added up to nothing in the next moment, when the small, human girl surprised him.
Bella released a sigh, deep from within her and then crawled across the scant space between them to climb onto his lap. She nuzzled her face into his neck. "Don't let me," she whispered, and he felt her tremble against him.
He was still for a moment, as she nestled into him, and then with a movement so slow it should have been laughable, he brought his arms around her and clutched her close to his chest.
Did they stay there for moments or months or years? Neither could say. But she never grew heavy, folded against him, and his mind never dulled to the perfume of her scent, the soft thrum of her heart, or the silk of her hair as it pressed against her cheek.
There they sat, and there they waited – for whatever was going to come next.
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Many thanks and much love to FarDareisMai2 and Krismom. They are the Alpha and Beta of my heart.
I thank you all, readers, for reading, reviewing, and putting this on alert. Your generosity amazes me, touches me, always.
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I've been reading – and loving – Decoy by 107 Year Old Virgin. What have you been loving?