12 Nights of Christmas: A Wolf in Santa’s Clothing Michele Bardsley All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2005 Michele Bardsley
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Prologue Five hundred years ago… “The Golden Knight. How long I have waited for this moment. How valiant you fought against the forces of evil. Now that I have finally caught you, I’m rather bored.” Smirking, Mordrius walked slowly around the half-tilted wooden plank to which his enemy was tied with magical chains. The Golden Knight had no power here, yet the dark sorcerer nervously fingered the belt around his waist which housed six small poisoned-tipped daggers. As Mordrius circled the torture table, his purple robes fluttered around his booted feet. He examined the smudged, stained armor, then tapped the faceplate of the Knight’s helmet and felt the tingle of enchantment. The legendary armor really was hammered from bespelled gold. Fascinating. After he deprived his foe of it, he would sell it to buy more weapons, more mercenaries, more black magic. The world would finally be his -- then his heir’s -- to rule. He smiled benevolently at his prisoner then allowed his gaze to drift around the dungeon. “This particular room has been devoted to the practice of pain most divine. In here, I have perfected the techniques of suffering, all in preparation for the day I captured you.” He patted the Knight’s shoulder. “You almost won. ’Tis a pity you fell into the trap of loving a false woman.” The Golden Knight roared and strained against his bonds. Mordrius had not yet unmasked him; the sounds of the man’s fear echoed hollowly in the helmet. It would be a pleasure to reveal the rebel who had caused him loss after loss; the man who stood as hero, and soon martyr, to the peasants.
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“Oh stop wiggling about! You can’t escape. Your men are dead, in my dungeon, or running away like scared little girls. You’re all alone. Except for your little witch. The one who delivered you to me.” “She did not betray me. Elysabeth would never betray me.” Mordrius waved at the guard who stood watch at the door. He, in turn, waved at someone waiting the hall. Seconds later, a young woman stumbled into the room. She had long, silky brunette hair and eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. Her dress, once a royal-red, was faded, ripped, and stained. The tilt to her chin and the flash of defiance in her gaze though… Oh, that’s what angered Mordrius the most. Insolent chit. Loyal harlot. Deplorable bitch. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her forward so that she could gaze upon her defeated lover. “You’re right, oh Golden One. Elysabeth would never betray you. Not willingly. I had to weaken her mind so that my witch could break her shields and read her thoughts.” Mordrius drew his thumb down Elysabeth’s cheek, laughing when she jerked away. “What do you think it takes to break a woman with Elysabeth’s loyalty? Hmmm?” “Leave her alone,” demanded the Knight. “You have me. Elysabeth!” “Physical torture didn’t work. She was too good at escaping with all those mind tricks taught to her by Lady Sage.” Mordrius leaned forward, satisfaction thick and delicious stirring within him. “I had to violate her beautiful, ripe body. She was tireless, your whore.” “Nooooooo!” The Knight’s wrath was fearsome. He fought like a wild dog against the chains. His screams and curses mixed with the scraping and clinking, but all his effort was in vain. “Your misery has only begun,” hissed Mordrius, “but be glad, my enemy. Your dearest love’s anguish is at an end.” He drew one of the sharp knives from his belt and stabbed it deeply into the heart of Elysabeth, princess of this little kingdom and lover to the Golden Knight. Her soul left the mortal realm with her gaze on the Knight and a sweet smile curving her lush lips.
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“No, Father! No!” Mordrius looked at the Knight in cold horror. As Elysabeth’s body dropped to the floor, he ripped off the golden helmet and stared into the eyes of his son. “Alexander! You mongrel! You betrayer!” Rage boiled through him. He plotted and planned campaign after campaign with Alexander, only to be defeated at every turn. He’d thought the Golden Knight had placed men within the ranks, but never had he suspected his own son. God’s blood! His mortal enemy was his only heir. “Remove his breastplate. Now!” The guard at the door hurried to do as Mordrius commanded. After the breastplate, chain mail, and cotton-stuffed shirt were removed, Mordrius jerked the knife from the dead Elysabeth. He stood at the side of his child, fury making his hands shake. His son was given the only love he’d ever held for another human being. And that small weakness cost him the one thing he’d thought precious. “Everything I did, I did for you. You would’ve owned the world.” “I did not want the world,” said Alexander, weeping. “I wanted Elysabeth. I wanted a family with her. I wanted peace, Father, and justice… and freedom from tyranny.” “You are a fool.” Mordrius raised the blade still red with Elysabeth’s blood. “Pledge your loyalty to me, boy. Promise you will claim the earth for me and me alone and I will not kill you. I will forgive you for falling for Elysabeth’s sweet lies and ample charms.” “You have already murdered my reason for living,” said Alexander. “I care not what you do next.” With a frenzied cry, Mordrius plunged the dagger into his son’s chest. His boy’s gaze, one blue eye and one brown, went blind. The last word that left Alexander’s lips was “Elysabeth…”
***
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The old woman in the dark green robe swept through the dungeon. Thanks to her cloaking spells, the guards never saw her. Soon, she found the awful room that housed the bodies of her beloved friends. With tears rolling down her cheeks, Lady Sage knelt onto the floor and closed the eyes of the beautiful and kind Elysabeth. “Fear not, child. Life does not end and love never dies. Goddess willing, you will have another chance with your knight.” She rose to tend to the Golden Knight who lay still on the wooden plank. Mordrius had removed the chains and taken the armor. Once he finished grieving for the son he’d killed by his own hand, he would attempt to use it. And what a surprise he would find. If anyone other than Alexander wore the armor, it would melt off and likely kill the person in the process. The wound on Alexander’s chest was deep and black with dried blood. Lady Sage kissed the brow of the man who’d been the child of her heart and murmured her good-bye. “M’Lady…” Startled, Lady Sage looked down and saw Alexander staring at her. Mortally wounded, and yet he still breathed! She took his hand and wound his cold stiff fingers within her own. “I’m so sorry, my dearest. Our forces will defeat Mordrius. I have seen as much in the future, but not this… never this.” “Love her.” His cloudy gaze filled with tears. “More than life.” Lady Sage’s heart rippled with pain and regret. Rarely did she interfere with the will of the Fates. Rarely did a man and woman ever share so pure a love as Alexander and Elysabeth. Should they not have a second chance? She looked at the terrible gash in his flesh. How he had managed to live this long was a miracle. Maybe it was too late to save the lovers in this lifetime, but perhaps a happy ending might still be had… Still, Alexander managed to breathe. He had fought off a fatal wound and the poison. Surely he could fight a few moments more…
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With prayers to the Goddess, Lady Sage created swirling liquid light within her cupped hands. She poured it onto the slain man and sang: “Take a new form blessed Golden Knight Live immortally until wrong is made right You must search for the mate of your soul Find love with her again and be made whole.”
Chapter 1 Present Day… “Lex, you gorgeous thing! C’mere, boy! C’mere!” Bethany Knight sat down on her porch steps, yelping when the chilled concrete immediately soaked through her jeans. She also wore boots, sweater, and jacket, but the December air infiltrated her clothes with unrelenting bitter cold. “Ooooh. Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good doggie?” She allowed Lex to lick her face. His ticklish, frenetic tongue always made her laugh. “Here you go, sweetie. Breakfast.” She fed him the cooked chunks of beef she’d saved from last night’s stir-fry. As always, he gulped down the meat, starved for food. And for affection. Beth petted his soft blond head and scratched behind his ears. He was such a big dog, such a strange breed. She’d done a little research here and there. The closest she could figure was that he was some sort of mutant breed of Irish wolfhound. He had such an unusual coat. Some days, when Lex sat in the sunlight just right, he looked like a statue of gold. And his eyes… one blue and one brown. Weird. “You are a mystery,” she said as her hands coasted over his backside. His tail wagged -- a big furry swisher known to knock over saplings. “Will you come inside today?” He looked at her, his big head tilted, his odd eyes sparkling with intelligence. “Lex, oh Lex, won’t you be mine?” She grinned and rubbed his head, not caring that her fingers already felt like Popsicles. He licked her face then butted her chin with his snout -- his daily good-bye. “See you later, Lex.” Grabbing her purse and gloves, she walked her to the old Honda, Lex by her side. He sat by the edge of the cracked, weed-littered driveway and waited for her to get into the car. She knew her dog-in-shining-armor would stay there until she backed
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out and got to the end of the street. In her rearview mirror, she watched him watching the car. He never stopped looking out for her.
*** Beth loved the little town of Winterhaven, Colorado. Last November, if her car hadn’t broken down on Main Street, she might have motored on through the tiny mountain burg. Hard to believe a whole year’s gone by. She truly enjoyed her job at Wonderful Seasons. It was a gift shop that sold goodies used for celebrating all manner of holidays, Christmas only one among many. The owner, Sage Willows, and her partner, Meg, were pagans. Meg also practiced Wicca. Needless to say, Wonderful Seasons catered to a diverse crowd. Sage had offered her a job and friendship at a time when Beth had desperately needed both. Gratitude couldn’t begin to describe how she felt about Sage Willows and Wonderful Seasons. “Lex the amazing dog still hanging out with you?” asked Sage as Beth swung through the doors. Beth smiled. “He is, indeed. We like each other’s company.” “Yeah. It’s real easy to date a dog. He doesn’t ask for much.” “Har-de-har-har.” Beth walked around the counter and put away her purse. “Then again… he’s been at my house every morning and every evening for the last six weeks. It’s the longest relationship I’ve had with a male in years.” “You could always play for the other team.” Sage grinned. She was in her fifties, lean and fit, with long gray hair and a penchant for clunky jewelry and the color green. “Being a lesbian has its perks.” “Sorry,” said Beth. “I like furry chests and deep voices and penises.” “No wonder you’re attracted to the dog.” “Sage!” Beth playfully batted at her boss. “You are so bad!” “To the bone, babe.”
*** “Hello, Lex.” The dog waited by the door as he always did when Beth arrived home from work. “You coming in?”
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Lex looked from her to the door and backed up a step. “Oh, all right. But one day, Lex, will you be mine?” He barked. Beth chuckled as she unlocked the door. “I’ll take that for a yes. But you better make up your mind soon, sweetie. I’m not a patient woman.” Flipping on the porch lights, she deposited her purse on the antique hall tree and hung up her coat on one of its worn metal hooks. After taking a quick shower, Beth fixed a light dinner of a chicken salad sandwich, peaches with cream, and iced tea. She ate in the living room, the TV on low volume, while she thumbed through a lingerie catalog. Longingly, Beth gazed at a sexy red corset with matching thong underwear. Red thigh-high stockings completed the outfit. Yeah, right. Like anyone would want to see me in that get-up. Only the dark could effectively cover up her knife-scarred flesh. But not seeing it only solved one problem. A man who braved her bed would have to touch her; no amount of buffing, surgery, or praying could rub away the mangled tissue on her thighs, stomach, and chest. Her face and arms had been spared the brutality as well as her calves and feet. But who cared about feet? The good parts, the parts related to her sexuality, had been butchered. That’s enough, Beth. You’re alive. Scarred is better than dead. Beth washed and put away her dishes then retrieved a clean ceramic bowl. In it, she put cut, cooked chicken with carrot sprinkles. She slipped on her warmest house slippers and her longest coat and went onto the porch. “Here you go, boy.” As Lex ate his dinner, Beth checked the mailbox -- a brass metal container attached to the wall near her front door -- and pulled out one item: a square black envelope with elegant gold writing on the front. “What the heck is this?” Lex looked up and barked, then returned to his chicken. “I should learn to speak dog,” murmured Beth as she settled onto the porch swing. The scent of pine intermingled with the sharp sting of cold air. She breathed it
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in, allowed it to cleanse her lungs and her mind. With a tingling sense of anticipation, she opened the envelope and pulled out a black square card. She read it wide-eyed and gasped. “Oh, my God, Lex! Listen to this!”
Dearest Lady Bethany Knight, Thank you for your generous donation to the Winterhaven Charity Fund. As a token of our appreciation, please accept this invitation to the tenth annual Winter Masked Ball. This year’s theme is Lords and Ladies of Medieval Times. All attendees are required to dress in an appropriate costume and arrive masked. As is tradition, lords and ladies will be unmasked at midnight. Festivities begin at 7 p.m. Please arrive at the Winterhaven Hotel promptly. No guests will be allowed entrance to the ballroom after seven o’clock. We look forward to celebrating with you on Christmas Eve. Yours in this Season of Giving,
The Board of the Winterhaven Charity Fund
“Wow.” Beth showed the card to Lex. To her shock, he sniffed it and bared his teeth. “What? Does it stink?” She rubbed her nose against the paper. Huh. Smelled like sandalwood to her. Lex barked, his gaze on the invitation, and he looked as if he wanted to eat it for dessert. Beth tucked the square into its envelope. “Don’t worry, Lex. I didn’t make a donation, generous or otherwise, to the Fund. This invitation was sent by mistake.” She knelt down and hugged the mutant dog, kissing his ruff. She sat back and scratched behind his ears. “It would’ve been nice though, going to a fancy ball in a beautiful dress. Maybe I’d meet Prince Charming.” Lex nuzzled her neck then licked her ear. “You are so sweet.” She stood up and headed toward the front door. “G’night, Lex.”
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He barked. Beth turned and looked down at him. He looked from her to the door and barked again. “Oh. You want me to beg, do you?” She smiled and held open the door. “My darling Lex, will you come in tonight? Will you live with me forever and always be mine?” To Beth’s astonishment, Lex sauntered into the house.
Chapter 2 “Elysabeth,” whispered the man’s deep voice. Oh, what a voice! It held tenderness and love. And promise. Such achingly sensual promise. Beth stirred, sighing in contentment as strong, male fingers sifted through her hair then trailed her neck. “Alexander?” she murmured as the hands danced along her collarbone and dared to cup her breasts. “Hmmm. ’Tis lucky for you, sir knight, that I sleep in the nude.” “Indeed. I very much appreciate it.” She opened her eyes and stared into the amused gaze of her thankfully naked knight. One blue eye. One brown. She loved this oddity about him, just as he claimed to love her own wounded frame. Scarred she was, from chest to thighs. The puckered white lines were cruel reminders of an attack by highwaymen. She had lived, though they left her for dead. Surely that was blessing enough. “It is late,” she said primly, unable to stop a smile from curving her lips. “Aye, love. It is.” He nuzzled her neck, sampling her flesh with soft lips and warm tongue. His hands were busy with her breasts, fingers teasing the nipples into taut peaks. She squirmed, her body prickling with excitement. “I was sleeping, Alexander,” she said without an ounce of censure in her tone. “This bed offers warmth and comfort,” he murmured against her throat. “But I offer something better.” She quivered with anticipation. “And what, pray you, does a knight offer a lady that is better than good rest?” “This…” His mouth closed over one nipple. Hot shivers wracked her from breast to cunt. She moaned and sunk her fingers into the thick silk of his hair. One of his hands
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coasted down her thighs and parted her pussy. His finger stroked the slippery folds, teasing her clit unmercifully before dipping inside. “Oh, Alexander.” She wiggled against him, rubbing her breasts on his chest, and sighed with delight at the sensations he invoked. “I haven’t forgotten these lovelies,” he said. His mouth once again descended on her nipples, licking and sucking one and then the other, while his finger slid in and out of her pussy. “It feels good,” she murmured. “But shouldn’t a knight use his sword and not his knife?” Alexander laughed. “You injure me, M’Lady. But if it is the sword you want…” He rolled her over with him so that he was splayed on his back and she sat on his stomach. His eyes glittered with desire, but better than that, they shone with love. She never doubted that he loved her more than anything, even his valiant cause against the evil sorcerer, Mordrius. What a wondrous thing to know the man you loved would give his life for yours. And she felt the same for him. As she slid onto his hard, hot cock, she felt flares of lust join pangs of love. She planted her hands on his chest and rode him hard. God, this felt good. Her Alexander always felt good. She loved the feel of his cock plunging into her cunt, over and over. The coil of bliss tightened within her and she moaned. Alexander played with her breasts, his fingers twisting her nipples. Oh, how she loved those delicious zings created by his calloused skin and rough treatment. He bucked underneath her, matching her stride. “Come for me, princess,” he begged. “Come on my cock.” His words brought the pleasure crashing through her. She cried out as she came, lost in the spiraling bliss. Her vaginal convulsions caused his cock to slip out. Even as the shudders of completion wracked her body, Alexander lifted her. “Hands and knees, love.” She did as he said.
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His hands wrapped around her hips and she felt his length slide into her pussy. She pushed her ass backwards, meeting his strokes, urging him to fuck her faster, harder. “Elysabeth!” he cried as he shoved his cock deeply inside her. She felt the pulsing of his cock as his seed filled her pussy. Yes. Oh, yes! Later, they lay together in the darkness, sated and happy. Alexander stroked her cheek and whispered, “I love you, Elysabeth.” “And I love you, Alexander.”
*** Beth woke up, breathing hard. Sweat beaded her skin. Her pussy ached for release. What the -She flung off the covers and sat up. Then she lay back down. The digital clock on her nightstand revealed it was a few minutes after 3 a.m. She’d never had such an incredible dream before. It was more like a… a… memory than a fantasy weaved by her subconscious. Oh, my God. What would it be like to be loved that deeply, that completely? What would it be like for a man to worship her body like that? Her body quivered for release. Sure, she had her B.O.B -- battery-operated boyfriend. And like most single women, she had a shower device that provided more for her body than just a thorough cleaning. But she ached for a lover. A real lover who didn’t care about her scars. Like that wonderful dream man, he would see her with his heart. She looked down at the foot of the bed. Lex lay on his stomach, his head settled on his front paws. His big black snout pointed toward her and his odd eyes gazed at her with doggie adoration. Damn. She wanted to take the edge off her sexual frustration. Oh, hell. What difference did it make if Lex watched? He was only a dog.
***
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Alexander watched his lady love take out a long, round thing from her nightstand drawer. He’d seen those in many forms over the five hundred years he’d wandered the earth looking for Elysabeth. Vibrators, they were called. What used to take a man’s finger or his cock could be rendered by one of the devices. He had planted the dream in her head, hoping to make her remember their past lives. Was it possible for a woman to remember she had loved a man five hundred years ago? Lady Sage had been dead for centuries. He had served as her companion during her long life and been by her side as the Resistance fought and won the battle against his father’s evil empire. Two years after he’d been cursed, Alexander witnessed the dark sorcerer’s beheading -- and felt nothing but relief that his sire was finally dead. Alas, the spell cast by Lady Sage could not be undone, though she had tried many times to remedy what she had wrought. It was as if the wound that should have killed him was woven within the magic. If he returned to human form before Elysabeth remembered him and admitted her love, thus meeting the conditions of the spell, he would die from the poisoned heart wound. He sighed. He’d gotten used to his dog’s body -- walking on four legs instead of two, seeing gray shadows instead of color, pissing on trees and sleeping in alleys. But five hundred years as a dog hadn’t made him any less of a man. Even now, as he watched Beth pleasure herself, he remembered the very first time he’d asked her to touch her own cunt. How sweetly shocked she’d been… Damn it! He longed for fingers with which to stroke her skin. Lips with which to kiss her. A human cock with which to plunge into her tight, wet pussy. Instead, he had to watch as Beth thrust the vibrator into her sweet cunt. He had to listen to her hot moans. And finally, he had to observe her orgasm. Her hips lifted as she came, her thighs quaking as cum soaked the sheets.
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Alexander sniffed the air, his hunger stirred by the smell of her sex. Even after she put away the toy, cleaned herself, and drifted into a restless sleep, he watched her. And waited.
Chapter 3 “Isn’t he cute?” Sage asked as she adjusted the little red and white cap on Lex’s furry head. It complemented the red-and-white doggie version of a Santa suit, including black velvet paw “boots.” Beth laughed as she looked over the poor, tortured wolfhound. “Yeah, he’s cute. But really, Sage, how do you think Lex will do as Santa Claus? Maybe he hates kids.” “He certainly does not! No worries, babe. He’ll do just fine.” Sage squatted and scratched Lex’s ruff. She looked into his eyes and said, “Isn’t that so, oh golden knight?” The dog barked, as if in agreement. Beth looked at him, at his odd eyes, and felt a weird shift in her consciousness. She ran to the window of their bedchamber that morning and watched with a heavy heart as her knight led his army away from the castle and toward battle. His gold armor, bespelled by the Lady Sage herself, glinted in the dawning sun. She must’ve known that would be the last time she would see him as a free man because she wept grievous tears… as if he had already died. “Beth? Honey, are you okay?” Beth blinked, surprised to see Sage standing in front of her, shaking her lightly. “W-what happened?” “You totally zoned.” Sage led her around the counter and to one of the stools they kept behind it. “You feeling all right?” No, she wasn’t feeling all right. She felt as if she should remember something very important. It tickled her mind mercilessly, hovering just out of her reach. “I had this dream last night…” She paused. No way was she going to tell Sage about the sexually explicit fantasy weaved by her subconscious. “Anyway, when you said golden knight, it reminded me of…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s gone.” She looked at Sage and frowned. “Why did you call him that?”
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“Don’t you know?” asked Sage, a mysterious glint in her eyes. “No.” “His fur looks gold to me. And he’s your knight, isn’t he, Beth?” “I suppose that’s true.” Beth looked at Lex. The big dog sat on his haunches watching the women. His eyes didn’t look like a dog’s, Beth realized suddenly. They looked human. They looked like -- holy shit. Like the man’s eyes in her dream. Had she’d gotten so desperate for a lover that she’d mentally turned the dog into a man? No. The man had been turned into a dog. Christ Almighty. She was going crazy. After all she’d survived in the last two years, her mind had finally snapped. I’m not half in love with a mangy mutt. “I, uh, think I better sit down for a minute.” “Okay. You wanna tell me what’s going on?” “I don’t know. I just feel… weird. I didn’t sleep well last night and maybe I’m coming down with a cold or something. I’m dizzy.” Her head hurt, too. Lex barked and trotted behind the counter. He put his head on Beth’s knee and whined. Sage grinned. “See? He’s your knight, Beth. Never forget.” “You’re freaking me out,” she said. She sighed as she petted Lex’s soft head, scratching behind his ears. The dog’s eyes closed in ecstasy. “Tell me about the dream.” “It was… graphic,” said Beth, unable to stop the blush from heating her cheeks. Good God, she was twenty-six years old. Not exactly a nymphette, but not without experience, either. “Oooooh. All the better, babe. Details!” Sage sat on a stool next to Beth and waited. “I was in bed, a lumpy bed, and this gorgeous guy woke me up and… uh, well, you know.” “Fucked your brains out?”
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“Sage!” Her blush turned into a four-alarm fire that blazed across her face. “Yes, we had sex. He called me Elysabeth and I called him Alexander.” “Sounds more like a past life memory.” Beth rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe in that junk. We get one shot, Sage. That’s it.” “Just because you don’t believe in reincarnation doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. You gotta open your mind to the possibilities.” “How about we use psychology instead? I’m lonely and horny and possibly in love with my dog.” Lex barked, his tail wagging. Sage’s gaze focused on him then she frowned at Beth. “In love with Lex?” “Yeah. Because the guy in my dream had the same eyes.”
*** “Beth will never let me regress her,” said Meg as she tallied the day’s receipts. “She doesn’t believe in reincarnation.” “She wouldn’t have had the dream if she hadn’t met her past-life lover in this life. But who? All she does is come here and go home,” said Sage as she turned off lights and straightened display items in the small store. “And you know she never mentioned getting the invitation to the Winter Ball.” “Maybe you should’ve told her we sent a donation in her name.” “Oh. Good point.” Sage drifted to the counter and watched Meg’s slim fingers tuck the money and deposit slip into the bank bag. “She said the guy in her dream had the same eyes as Lex.” Meg looked up, her brown eyes wide with shock. “You think her lover is the dog?” “Well…” Meg zipped the bag and dropped it into the opened floor safe. The door closed with a heavy clink and she spun the dial. “Humans aren’t supposed to take animal lovers. It’s not only wrong, darling, it’s really, really gross.”
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“I’m not saying I want her to fall in love with a canine. I’m saying that Lex found her and she started having these dreams.” “That ol’ wolfhound has been hanging around for six weeks.” “But last night was the first time he slept in Beth’s house.” Meg tilted her head and pursed her lips. Ah. Her pleas had gotten what she called “Meg’s Thinking Pose.” Sage grinned as her partner seriously considered her point-of-view. Goddess, she was cute. “You’re making me as nuts as you are.” Meg laughed as she rounded the counter and took Sage into her arms. She stroked away the loose tendrils of hair from her face and smiled. “Lex is the only male companionship Beth has had since her thievin’ exboyfriend tried to carve her up like a Christmas ham. The Goddess would never allow a soul meant to find true love to return in the body of an animal. You know that animal reincarnations are for those who need lessons about compassion and tolerance.” Sage sighed as she laid her head on Meg’s shoulder. “I feel part of this, babe. We’re connected. All of us.” Then she straightened and looked at her lover. “Regress me.” “What?” Meg shook her head. “Honey, you’ve done numerous regressions and you’ve never mentioned Beth in any form.” “You’ve never asked. Well, never known to ask. Besides, you haven’t done a session with me in, what, more than a year? Sometimes we have to reconnect with soul friends in this life to recognize ’em in previous incarnations.” Sage leaned forward and nuzzled on Meg’s ear, flicking her tongue against the sensitive spot under her lobe. Meg shivered and sighed at the same time… and Sage knew her lover was going to cave. Sage kissed Meg softly, feeling the twin thrills of lust and love ribbon through her. She pulled back, just a little. “If I’m part of Beth’s soul group, we can find out the truth about her past life.” “And if you’re not?” “No harm done.”
Chapter 4 Hours later, as Meg regressed Sage into centuries past, Sage found herself in the body and mind of a medieval sorceress desperately trying to save two people she loved… Meanwhile, Beth slid under soft sheets and thick comforter, her eyes closing the second her head hit the pillow. Her furry golden knight leapt onto the bed and settled at the foot, his gaze watching his lady as she drifted into sleep…
*** Elysabeth swam in the sun-warmed water, her nude body slicing through the leisurely flow of the river. The water felt wonderful against her skin, the undercurrent as gentle and titillating as a lover’s stroking fingers. She felt a tug on her foot and yelped. “Gotcha!” Alexander yelled as he popped up next to her. Rivulets of water dripped down his face and rolled into the corners of his wicked grin. Her pounding heart slowed its fearful rhythm. “Why you…” She splashed him. “Cad!” She splashed him again. “Rogue!” He grabbed her wrists and pulled her into his arms. They tread water together, naked flesh rubbing against naked flesh. Her nipples pebbled against the silky hair of his chest. But she was still in a pique and refused to give in to the temptation of scraping her nipples across his muscled pecs. Nuzzling her temple, he dragged his stubbly chin down to her ear. He nipped the lobe and whispered, “Kiss me.” “Never.” She tried to wiggle out of his arms, but Alexander held fast. “Kiss me, sweetling.”
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She stuck out her tongue and turned her head, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “I don’t kiss rogues.” “How about husbands?” That got her attention. She faced him, her heart trembling like a warbling bird. “What?” “Marry me.” He looked at her, his gaze filled with love and longing. “Please, Elysabeth. Be my wife.” “Yes,” Elysabeth said, smooching Alexander’s face from forehead to jaw. “Yes. Yes. Yes!” Happiness glowed inside her, a magnificent feeling that left her giddy. She had never doubted Alexander’s love. A church ceremony and a contract could not replace the vows she and Alexander had already taken in their hearts. But she was still a woman who, as a young girl, dreamed of a wedding to a handsome knight. Every maiden did. Only her fantasy would be her reality. Her lips melted against his. They indulged in a long, slow kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made embers of desire flare fully into quickening need. Alexander’s hands drifted to her thighs. He took her legs and wrapped them around his waist, his fingers kneading the undersides as he stroked her all the way to her buttocks. Then his hands rounded on her ass and squeezed. Hmmm. She loved for him to touch her. Everywhere. Anywhere. And yet… “You cannot tread water that long,” she protested. “We will drown if you make love to me this way.” “True enough, darling. So ’tis a good thing my feet are firmly planted on the lake’s soil.” She tugged his ears for his insolence and he repaid her by catching her lower lip between his teeth.
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Her hands found purchase on his shoulders. He licked the spot on her lips where he’d lightly bitten then lifted her until her breasts were freed from the water. The air felt cool after the warmth of the lake and her nipples tightened in response. Alexander lowered his head to taste those taut buds. She cried out as he drew a peak into his mouth and suckled it hard, his tongue flicking rapidly. He pleasured her breasts with lips, tongue, and teeth. Her fingers sought his skin, touching whatever she could reach as he gave an inordinate amount of tender attention to her breasts. Finally, she could bear no more. “Alexander!” Her tone was both censure and demand. Slowly, he lowered her into the water, his gaze on hers. His eyes, one brown, one blue, gleamed with desire… the kind of agonizing desperation that could only be born from love. As he pressed his cock against her cunt, the folds of her pussy opened like a flower’s petals. And within, the tip of his manhood rubbed her sweetly tingling clitoris. She moaned, caught up in the wondrous sensations. One of his arms wrapped around her back and the other… oh, his clever fingers found the still aching buds of her breasts and tugged one… and the other… into submission. The water made his entry easy but her juices already flowed for him, allowing him to thrust deeply. He stayed there, still and quiet, his cock filling her until she grew breathless with wanting. “I meant to wait,” he said, his voice hoarse with longing. “I meant to woo you.” “I am past wooing,” she said with a laugh. “I fear you must continue upon the path you’ve chosen, sir knight.” “Gladly.” He thrust inside her again, and again, until he gained a delicious rhythm. Her body trembled, exquisitely frustrated. “Touch yourself,” he begged. “Touch yourself and come for me.” Shocked, she stared at him. “I have never…” “Put your hand here,” he demanded in a gritty voice. His movements stalled as he took her hand and put it on where they were joined. Her fingertips glided across his
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embedded cock. Oh, sweet merciful heavens! “There is nothing wrong with giving each other pleasure, Elysabeth. There are so many ways I long to take you.” “I am yours,” she swore, though his words caused an uneasy thrill to zip up her spine. He had been gentle with her, kind and patient too, but she had known there were many ways men and women pleasured each other. Had she not taken his manhood into her mouth… had he not brought her pleasure by putting his mouth to her as well? “I want to fuck you,” he murmured softly in her ear. “Let me fuck you, Elysabeth.” “Yes,” she whispered, shivering at his rough language. “And you will touch yourself.” He pressed her fingers against her clitoris and she felt need rip through her. It felt so good. So wonderful. She rubbed the spot, finding where it felt the most rousing, and as she did so, her knight made good on his promise to fuck her. He fucked her wildly, madly, until his cock plunged into her willing, tight cunt at a pace that sent her pulse racing and her heart thundering. His hands sought her hips for leverage and she could do nothing but hold onto him with one hand while she used the other to finger her clit. Again and again she rubbed the stimulated bump, her clumsy, eager fingers sliding into the slick folds. Sometimes she brushed the pumping cock of her lover. Heavens above! She loved the feel of him impaling her over and over. More so, she loved how he gazed at her as he took her. “I burn even hotter for you, knowing that you’re pleasuring your cunt,” said Alexander. “That your fingers are touching your sweet pussy at the same time I’m fucking you.” Those words! The roughness of them, the rawness of them… oh, how she loved hearing Alexander speak them to her, his gentility shattered by primal needs. She moaned as the sensations of her pussy rolled into a wave, a wave that rose and started to crest… “I’m going to come,” Alexander said, his voice tight, his eyes on hers. “God! Oh God! Come on my cock, Elysabeth. Please, sweetling, come on me!”
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His words drove her over the edge. The orgasm burst, a riotous joy that made her go blind and lose breath, and for a lovely, extended moment, let her fly into heaven. And as she did so, Alexander shouted her name and thrust deeply, stilling, his seed spilling as her orgasmic contractions milked his cock into repletion.
Chapter 5 Three Weeks Later… “You’re going to the ball,” Meg and Sage said together, the same thing they’d said separately, approximately four billion times in the last few days. Beth put up her hands in a gesture of submission. “I’m going because you gave the Fund a small fortune as a donation, but that doesn’t mean I have to suffer through the terrors of your beauty program in order to attend.” “Yes, it does,” they both said at the same time again. They stared at one another for a second and burst into laughter. The last customer had left a few minutes earlier. Now, they were finally shutting down the store which would be closed for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. As Meg did the receipts, Beth went through and straightened display items. Sage took down the cardboard Santa house and packed up the other pieces of the faux setting. Lex sat on his red velvet doggie bed and divided his time between watching Sage and gazing longingly at Beth. When Beth went into the storage room to get items for stock replenishment, Meg followed to help. Sage looked at Lex, and he looked at her. They’d communicated, of a sort, since she’d put together the pieces of a five-hundred-year-old puzzle. It had taken several sessions with Meg, but she finally understood who she had been so long ago and what she must do, now, in order to close the circle. She’d been called crazy before, but if anyone other than Meg knew she believed that Lex the wolfhound was Alexander Addington, the Golden Knight, she’d be straightjacketed and sent to the looney bin.
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“If you can get her to say that she loves you in the next dream, which is a psychic and real connection,” she whispered as she scooped the fuzzy white stuff that had served as snow into a box, “it might do the trick. If it does, you’ll have to call me. Oh, shit. You don’t know how to use a phone.” She sealed the box, her mind racing. “I’ll leave clothes for you, in a bag, under Beth’s porch. I’ll have to guess about your size, but any clothes are better than walking bare-assed in five feet of snow.” Glancing at the back of the store, she saw that though the door to the storage room was open, Beth and Meg were still inside. Their voices wafted out, the tone light, the conversation punctuated by laughter. “If it doesn’t work,” said Sage as she knelt next to Lex, “we’ll find another way. I promise you.” She rubbed his ruff and scratched his ears, recalling that in her regression she had made the same comforting gestures to Lex when she’d been Lady Sage. “I won’t let you and Elysabeth down again.” He licked her face, a very doggie thing to do. But in his eyes, she saw the man. His gaze was filled with gratitude… and with hope.
*** “Can you believe tomorrow is Christmas Eve?” Beth asked Lex as he followed her, tail wagging, into the bedroom. “You were a wonderful Santa. The kids loved you.” She patted his head. “You really are terrific, Lex. I love you lots.” Lex barked his joy, circling her, his big tail whumping enthusiastically. She laughed at his reaction. “Never been in love before?” He barked again, his adoring gaze on her. She grinned. “Guess not.” Okay. So she’d already turned out the lights. And ensured the windows and doors were all bolted. She mentally checked off each window and door again. Yeah, she’d gotten ’em all. The nightly ritual had been ingrained since… The evening her ex-boyfriend, Richard, had returned to kill her, she’d left open her bedroom window to catch the California breeze. Her bedroom had been on the second floor of her refurbished, redecorated, and reconstructed Victorian home. Her
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grandmother had bequeathed it to her along with a decent sum of money. “She took me in as a teenager, after my parents died. She was the only family I had left,” she lamented softly. The wolfhound whined in consolation, his tongue snaking out to lick her hand. Her day job as a financial consultant paid well, so she could afford to spend plenty of time, effort, and money to make the old house into a sanctuary. “Until I’d dated Richard,” she said to Lex, “the house had been a lovely sanctuary. A place that had kept me safe, made me feel special. But that’s the thing about inanimate objects. You can love them. But they can’t love you back. Or protect you.” Despite the restraining order, complex alarm system, and panic button she kept chained around her neck… despite all the efforts made to keep the abusive Richard away… she still felt safe leaving that window open as she went to take a shower. “He was waiting for that kind of moment,” she told Lex as she crawled under the covers. He jumped onto the bed and lay next to her, his muzzle near her face. His eyes were on hers as she talked. That gaze looked so human. So intelligent. Like he understands what I’m saying. “Yep. He watched the house for weeks, until I let down my guard long enough to let him in. Caught me in the shower.” Her laugh was forced. “Like that scene in Psycho.” Only worse. She sat up and lifted her oversized T-shirt and showed Lex the mangled scars on breasts and abdomen and thighs. “Left me bleeding to death on the bathroom floor while he and his buddy stole everything of value from the house.” She lay back down and let old memories surface. Her recovery took an incredibly long time, so long that friends drifted away. Clients dropped her. Everything in her life crumpled into dust until all she had left was the house. Richard’s violation of her home, of her, had been too brutal, too horrible to keep even that much-loved aspect of her life. The bathroom held her terror. Some nights, she heard her own voice echoing, begging God to live. In the mornings, when she bypassed it to use the hallway
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bathroom, she was driven to her knees as phantom pain raked her and she relived seeing crimson water flow across the tiled floor. “I sold the house and everything in it. Saved some clothes, pictures, that kind of thing, but not much. I got in my car and I drove. I drove and drove and drove until the engine died right in front of Wonderful Seasons.” She traced Lex’s long snout then scratched his silky head. “And here I am. You know what I learned?” Lex tilted his head, almost as if saying “What?” His eyes never left hers. Again, she found herself wondering about that odd gaze, not only the strangeness of one blue eye and one brown, but the… human quality that always seemed to sparkle. Lex nudged her as if reminding her to finish her thoughts. “Oh, right. So I learned that you carry everything you need inside your head and your heart. That money and the things it can buy don’t mean shit. And that life can change in the blink of an eye… and when it does, you either deal with it or you give up.” She kissed Lex’s nose, settling down to sleep. “I don’t give up. Not ever.” As her eyes drifted closed, Beth felt the warm furry weight of Lex next to her and smiled. She fell eagerly to sleep because she always, without fail, dreamed about her handsome lover, Alexander. In those dreams, he and she, as the woman Elysabeth, lived and laughed and loved. Lately, though, there seemed to be dark clouds hovering in a place that had held only light. There was a sense of anxiousness. Of desperation. She wasn’t sure how to combat those feelings and she wanted, more than anything, to have her dreamscape untouched by loneliness and regret. It was not lost on her that she had begun dreaming about Alexander the same night Lex had finally accepted her invitation to live in the house. In those vague, fuzzy moments between awake and asleep, she had wondered about the connection between the fantasy man and the real dog, both of whom shared the rare distinction of that odd gaze. As if they were the same being…
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The thought that the dog was the man returned to her so often she wondered if she wasn’t slipping slowly into madness. Had her desire for love driven her to eschew real human contact? As she fell asleep, her concerns melted away, leaving her to dreams…
*** Alexander pressed her against the oak tree, which faced away from the river and toward the forested hills. The dusty road that cut through those knobs of greenery and trees led straight to the castle. Elysabeth was naked, her clothing shed by the clever fingers of her lover. Her breasts rubbed against the rough bark of the tree and she gasped in pained delight. Her nipples hardened and again she scraped them across the tree. Her breath left as raw pleasure arrowed from tortured nipples to wet pussy. Alexander, also naked and, if truth be told, in rather a dark mood, knelt between her legs, guiding them open as he moved her hips out from the tree. “What are you doing?” she asked, aware that she sounded breathless and not a little fearful. “Trust me, Elysabeth.” He licked her pussy with rapid, snaking movements. She moaned as his tongue dove into her pussy, and gasped when Alexander pushed a finger between the slick folds of her cunt to flick her clitoris. Unmerciful, he tasted and thrust and plunged until she trembled like a leaf blown about by the wind. “Come for me, sweetling,” he begged, his hot breath on her thighs. Clutching the tree, she orgasmed violently, and screamed her release as her juices flowed. Alexander rubbed both of his hands on her pussy, slipping his fingers inside her cunt to wet them with her cum. She looked down, watching as he coated his hands with her essence.
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Then he rose and, after a moment, she felt him press against her. His big, hard cock, slick and warm, nestled between her ass cheeks. She swallowed the knot in her throat, her fingernails digging into the tree’s bark. “Alexander…” “I would have you this way, sweetling.” His voice sounded raw with need. She’d never heard that harshly desirous tone before. It made her fear. It made her want. His hands cupped her buttocks, spreading them. The tip of his cock pierced her anus. She clenched, gasping at the odd sensations. She trusted Alexander, wanted to give him pleasure, but this… this she wasn’t sure about. Alexander leaned forward and kissed her shoulder, whispering for her to relax, to trust him, to allow herself to feel him, to desire him. Slowly, he inserted his cock into her quivering ass and she realized he had used her own juices to make entrance easier. His groans and shudders were signs of his thin control, and hearing that he enjoyed this way of making love dissolved the last of her resistance. When he was all the way in, he stopped, allowing her to adjust to the feel of his embedded manhood. Her ass felt strangely full, the way her pussy felt when Alexander filled it with his cock. It was not entirely unpleasant. His fingers wrapped around her hips then she felt his mouth brush her ear. “You have the most beautiful ass. I’ve always wanted to fuck you this way.” “Then what are you waiting for, M’Lord?” She sucked in a breath. “Fuck me.” “Elysabeth!” His voice held amused shock that she would use the same raw language that he so often used during their lovemaking. He started thrusting. “Say it again, sweetling. Tell me what you want me to do to your luscious, tight ass.” “Fuck me,” she said, her throat trembling. “Fuck me in the ass!”
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Sweat beaded on their bodies as flesh smacked against flesh. She gazed up into the afternoon sky and held on to the damned tree, begging Alexander over and over to take her. “I’m going to come,” he cried out, plunging deeply, stilling… As his seed spurted violently into the taut canal of her ass, her muscles clenched him tightly, drawing him deeper. She smiled when he screamed her name and collapsed against her, his lips on her neck. Later, after they’d dressed and lunched on cold meats, cheese, and hard bread, they lounged in the shade of the oak tree, hands linked, gazes on each other. “We will be wed after I return,” promised Alexander. A spring wind brought with it the scents of earth and jasmine. “Here, at our sanctuary.” Elysabeth looked at the river, her eyes finding the spot where, just a few weeks before, Alexander had made love to her. Her heart pounded now as it had then, but its frantic beat was one of fear. Dread, cold and heavy, had draped itself on her shoulders and she could not bear the weight of it any longer. “We will never be wed,” she said, unable to prevent the tears from spilling. Alexander wiped away the wetness and she pressed her cheek into his palm. “You will not return from this battle.” “’Tis true,” he admitted, “I will not.” Alexander faded away, the touch of his palm lingering on her face. She had lost him. He was dead. The dream shifted, the landscape whirling until she found herself alone in an old, crumbling cemetery. She knelt at the white quartz grave marker, sobbing so violently she could scarcely catch a breath. “It’s not my grave,” whispered Alexander’s voice. “’Tis yours.” Beth looked at the stone. At the name etched into it. Elysabeth Rose Moore. “That’s not me,” she cried as she scrambled to her feet. “I’m Bethany Marie Knight!” She turned, wanting to run, wanting to scream.
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Alexander waited for her. His strong arms enclosed her, his tender voice offered nonsensical comfort, and as she gave herself over to the man who held her, who loved her, previous lives unwound like an uncoiling rope. Birth and death. Again and again and again. Years squeezed into seconds. Images flashed faster and faster until they suddenly stopped… She stood in a gray-walled chamber, an evil man clutching her by the hair, her gaze fastened on her gold-armored lover stretched on a torture table. The knife pierced her heart, but the pain of it was nothing compared to the unbearable anguish of leaving her knight. “I didn’t want to go,” she said, crying and shaking, “but the Light embraced me. I may live again, my darling, but I will never love another.” “You love me, Beth? Though I am but a dream?” “Yes.” She wept harder, knowing she had never been able to find him, despite all her searching, lifetime after lifetime. “I love you, Alexander, no matter what form you take.”
*** Beth awoke, heart pounding, her face wet with tears. The dark was absolute, the quiet all encompassing. “It wasn’t real,” she whispered. Her hands wormed through the covers, seeking the comfort of Lex. She sighed with relief when she touched his silky head. She stroked the fur on his scalp until her heart calmed and she felt sleepy again. Just before she drifted off, she swore she felt a man’s lips at her ear. “Say it again,” came a whisper. “Say you love me, Beth.” “Hmmm. Love you, Alexander,” she murmured. Then darkness claimed her and she slept until morning… without dreaming again.
Chapter 6 “A limousine?” asked Beth as she looked from the front living room window to the sleek, black Mercedes waiting for her in the driveway. She gaped at Sage and Meg behind her, looking very much like proud mothers sending their daughter off to the prom. “You didn’t have to do that. You’ve done so much already.” Sage bent down and flounced the skirt of Beth’s floor-length dress. The indigo fabric sparkled like the night sky. The dress was an excellent reproduction of a 1500s gown, but she was grateful for the reliance on illusion rather than authenticity. The idea of walking, much less dancing, in fully loaded 16th century duds was unthinkable. Her shoulders and the tops of her breasts were bared by the squared neckline. The laced-up bodice wasn’t real, just ribbon sewn into the fabric. The wide scooped sleeves allowed plenty of movement and the flowing, oversized skirt felt comfortable. Instead of a head covering, Sage had brushed Beth’s long blond hair until it crackled then twisted it into such a beautiful and complex braid, Beth feared never getting free of it. Her make-up had been done by Meg and she was pleased with the soft look created by pink lipstick and kohl-lined eyes. Beth didn’t even mind the three tiny faux diamonds that had been applied at the corners of her eyes. “Are you sure Lex is okay? It still seems so odd that he managed to get out of the house and go to Wonderful Seasons.” Beth didn’t know why she felt so jittery. Panic had rioted through her when she discovered Lex had somehow escaped. Sage and Meg had kept her so busy with preparing for the Winter Ball, she hadn’t been able to convince either one to let her see the dog. “Maybe I could drop by your house and check on him.”
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“You’ll be late if you do that. Stop worrying. You can see him later,” admonished Sage. “Now, there are three more things you need.” Meg stepped forward and added a big, chunky necklace. The large, blue stone rested just above her cleavage; the costume jewel matched the stones that dangled from her lobes. “And these…” said Sage, handing her a box. She opened it and laughed. “Glass slippers?” “Clear plastic,” said Meg. “Aren’t they gorgeous?” “Yes.” She slipped on the heels and grinned when they fit perfectly. “I guess I’m officially Cinderella.” “Not quite.” Meg showed her the simple blue velvet mask. Two peacock feathers wrapped its border, the colorful feathers plumed up on each side. “Put it on before you get inside. They’re big on everyone being masked on arrival.” Sage, then Meg, kissed her cheeks. “Okay, Cinderella,” said Sage, her eyes glittering with tears, “go find your Prince Charming.”
*** The crush of color, noise, and bodies overwhelmed Beth as she was swept inside the huge ballroom with other arriving guests. Music played -- some sort of twanging, tinkling bell stuff that didn’t appeal to her. Chandeliers glittered high above the crowds. Most of the floor had been sectioned off for dancing, but she smelled the tantalizing scents of cooking food and realized buffets had been set up on each side of the large space. The mask felt itchy, or maybe it was the tiny fake diamonds near her eyes, but she was already dying to take it off. How would she last five hours in the damned thing? Though she’d lived and worked in Winterhaven for more than a year and she knew many townspeople by name, she didn’t really have a wide circle of friends. Given that the ball tended to cater to the wealthier residents, chances were good she didn’t know too many people hidden behind their masks.
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God, I feel stupid. Why am I here? “Hello.” The man’s voice came from behind her shoulder, but the number of people in the area made it difficult to maneuver. Fingertips brushed her elbow. “Move all the way to your right. They have tables over there.” She followed the directions and soon found herself able to breathe again. Turning, she looked for the man who had rescued her. “Oh… uh, wow.” Grinning, she assessed his “costume.” He wore a flowing gold shirt, carelessly opened at the top, but tucked into his jeans. The denims had been painted gold. Added to that were his gold-painted Converse high-tops. The gold mask looked like the one worn by the Phantom of the Opera; it covered the top half and one side of his face. The man in the crazy, half-assed costume was gorgeous. He was muscled, taller than her by six inches, and filled out his gold jeans very nicely. Her heart went pittypat. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “M’Lady.” Beth laughed, charmed by his manner. The brush of his lips on her hand sent tingles from wrist to shoulder. Oh wow is right. “Why do I feel like you snuck in?” “Me?” he asked innocently. She saw half of his grin. “Would you dance with me?” “Oh. I…” She lifted her dress and showed him her heels. “I don’t think I’d last long in these.” “Are you afraid to dance, M’Lady? Or are you afraid of me?” Beth felt the room spin. Voices and music melded into one drowning noise… “Are you afraid to dance, M’Lady?” asked the man with the strange eyes and the wicked grin. “Or are you afraid of me?” “I fear no one,” Elysabeth said and accepted his hand. Gasps of horrified delight were heard over the musicians’ fine efforts but she pressed on, her cheeks heated from the sudden and pointed interest of others.
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She knew no woman in the room would dare a touch from one thought bewitched. It was said he had learned the dark arts from the famed Lady Sage. No one knew his parentage, only that he arrived in London under mysterious circumstances and that he was wealthy beyond imagining. He was also tall and handsome with broad shoulders and lean hips and muscles that rippled under his breeches and tunic. The same women who wouldn’t give him the tiniest glance at the ball would gladly lift their skirts for him in the dark garden or the kitchen larder. “M’Lady is either daring or foolish,” he said as he smoothly led her through the dance’s intricate steps. “Don’t you know I am a sorcerer?” “Will you cast a spell then, M’Lord?” “I’m afraid ’tis you who has cast a spell,” he answered. “It appears I am curiously and inexplicably drawn to you.” “There is no magic in that,” she said with a snap in her voice. He grinned at her pique and when the next turn came, whispered in her ear, “It is magic, M’Lady, of the sweetest kind.” When Beth came to, she found the stranger in gold clothes kneeling at her feet. She was propped in a chair, disoriented and slightly dizzy, her skin clammy. “What happened? Where are we?” “We’re in one of the smaller meeting rooms, just a few steps away from the ball. You fainted. Are you feeling better?” Beth heard the muted music as she looked around at the taupe walls and metal chairs. She realized her mask had been taken off; she spotted it on the floor next to her chair. Then her gaze found the man. Though the mask covered his face and shadowed his eyes, she sensed his deep concern. It’s impossible. Insane. Why did I name him Lex if I had not somehow known the truth? The mind could lie. It could rationalize and justify and fabricate.
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But the heart… no, never. And her heart had been whispering to her for weeks. She’d ignored those tender tidings, losing herself in dreams and fantasies, refusing to believe something so incredible could exist. Her heart wasn’t whispering now. It cried out in recognition, blasting through logic and practicality and, hell, even reality. With trembling fingers, she lifted the mask from his face. One blue eye. One brown. “Alexander,” she said, tears slipping from her eyes. As her fingers traced the visage of a man she hadn’t seen in five hundred years, happiness crowded out the sorrow that had been with her for so very, very long. “Bethany,” he soothed. “’Tis all right now, love.” Weeping with joy, she slid into his arms and kissed him. Yes, it was Alexander. The man of her dreams, the love of her life. Of her every life. “You are a fine Christmas present, Alexander,” she said, smiling. “Oh?” he asked with a raised brow. “Just wait until we get home.” “What happens then?” He grinned. “You get to untie the bow.”
The End
Michele Bardsley Multi-published in several genres, award-winning author Michele Bardsley spends her days creating fictional worlds because, let's face it, reality sucks. A prime example is that no one has yet to figure out how to make calorie-free chocolate. What's up with THAT? Michele lives in Florida where she is held hostage by her two children, her husband, and four cats. Occasionally they remember to feed her, but mostly she's forced to nibble on copy paper while eking out her next story. The manacles make it difficult to type, but she manages. Email her at
[email protected] or visit her website at www.MicheleBardsley.com
