“There you are,” Emma’s melodic voice calms me. Whatever discontented feelings I had a moment ago are forgotten.
Cupping her face in my hands, I press my forehead to hers. “I’m never too far behind you, Angel-remember that if you ever try to run from me.”
She snorts, placing her hand on the “A” carved in my chest. “What if I like it when you chase me?” Emma questions before pushing away from me and darting into the woods. “Catch me if you can!”
I stand watching the way her delectable ass bounces as she runs before she disappears, and I finally spring into action. A lascivious smile donning my face. “I’m coming for you.”
“You better fix this, or I’ll take pleasure in slicing you from navel to throat and dancing on your intestines!”
Wy?
My eyes dart, seeking the voice, but there’s no one there. Growling in frustration, I shake my head clear and head after my heart.
By the time I step into the forest, all traces of Emma are gone. I can’t see or smell her. There are no footprints in the dirt- no cleared brush signaling which direction she’s gone. “Angel?” I shout. There’s no answer. I still, trying to hear a snapping twig or rustling leaves- nothing. I’m met with nothing. Until I hear a crack to my left and see a glimpse of midnight blue hair taking off in the distance, she’s a stealthy one.
Hopping over the red oak tree’s outstretched roots, I run toward Emma’s pounding feet, racing to make up for lost time. I watch as she exits the forest, and as I step into the clearing, she turns, her bright smile mischievous as she taunts, “Come and get me.” Then she dashes for the hill. Before she makes it three steps, I scoop my arms around her waist and turn so my body takes the brunt of the fall as I take us to the ground. We roll until she’s on top of me, pinning my shoulders to the ground. “I like this game,” Emma teases, lowering her mouth to mine. “The hunter ended up being the hunted.”
“I was always the one hunting you, Angel,” I confidently state, attempting to grip her waist, but she pulls back, and her knees swiftly press my arms into the grass.
Her silvery eyes are light as she bends, the ghost of her lips trailing along my skin up to my ear. “Were you chasing me, or was I luring you?” she asks before nipping the shell of my ear. Emma lifts her head to meet my gaze. “Karl. I lo-.”
“He’s back.”
My eyes spring open. Eight sets of worried faces stand, watching the doctor’s movements. Again, I search the room.
She’s still not fucking here. I try to speak, but my damn mouth won’t move. Instead, I’m met with only a grunting sound.
“Take it easy,” the doctor coaxes. “You need to relax, or we’ll have to sedate you. We can’t risk you losing consciousness again.”
Where the fuck is our girl? Did they take her? Why isn’t she here? She would be here! They must’ve taken her.
I heat the rapid uptick in the monitor again.
“O, you have to calm down,” Rowan instructs. My eyes shoot to where he stands. A short beard is now growing on his face. He looks like he hasn’t slept in years.
I try, again, to speak. Nothing. I can’t even move my facial features to display my frustrations.
“It’s going to be okay, Karl. You need to relax.” I recognize my father’s voice as he steps to my side.
I move to speak again and feel my lip quiver.
“Did his mouth move?” That was Sebastian.
“Maybe the drugs are finally out of his system,” Liam states.
I close my eyes, willing my mouth to work-fighting the muscles in my face to do what my brain is demanding. I need to know what happened to our girl. I need to know why she’s not in this room right now.
The machine’s beeping grows faster and faster, and I watch as a nurse rushes into the room. “I’m sorry we’re going to have to sedate him,” the doctor explains. The nurse steps alongside my bed, inserting the medication-filled needle into my peripheral intravenous line.
I feel the second the medication hits my bloodstream-my eyelids droop, and right before I go under, I whisper like a prayer in the wind demanding to be answered before losing my battle against the sedative, “Emma.”
SEBASTIAN
“Emma.” That was Karl’s first word before the sedative took hold, and he passed out six hours ago.
Sighing, I rub my fingers along my stubbled jaw, then stand.
“Where are you going?” Rowan asks.
“I need some air,” I reply without looking back as I stride through the door. A million thoughts swirl through my mind before I cross the threshold and step outside. The two most prominent-Karl’s recovery and Emma’s safety.
I’m frustrated with Karl for going off without anyone, but he’s never been one to wait on anyone to do anything. I want to rage at Rowan for his high-handedness and unilaterally deciding to choose Sam in such a public way that hurt Emma, but given the circumstances, what choice did he have?
Tilting my head back, I suck in a lung full of summer air and listen as the crickets keep me in the present. So much has happened since Karl was taken. What feels like months has only been weeks, and with Emma’s absence leaving a crater-sized hole in my chest, I’m forced to confront my feelings for her. Ones I’ve spent years mastering to hide. I should’ve seen it sooner-should’ve recognized the systematic way each interaction with her chipped away at the walls surrounding my heart. It shouldn’t have taken her leaving for me to realize the profound impact she’s had on me.
Have I been so stuck in my bitterness that I missed the moment I fell for her?
Lifting my head, I rub at the tension building in my neck as my thoughts continue to spiral.
Has my vitriol toward one woman cost me the love of another?
I thought Vivian ruined me-thought I would forever be too jaded to trust, much less love, another woman again. It’s why I agreed without hesitation when my uncle approached me to be part of the Selection. I fully intended to marry whoever became our Chosen and impregnate her, but I would never love her. Love wasn’t supposed to be on the table. I was never supposed to love again. I shut my eyes in hopes of blocking out my intrusive thoughts.
Is it too late?
“Fuck!” my shout momentarily pauses the chirping before it resumes.
“Finally seeing it?”
“Seeing what?” I mumble at August, knowing the little shit is keenly aware of the reason for my sudden outburst.
He steps from the shadows. His wild fiery hair is illuminated by the moonlight as he climbs the stairs and stands beside me. I’m not sure when he left Karl’s hospital room. In all the chaos, he must’ve slipped out. “How important she is,” he responds. His gaze lifts to the starlit sky and continues. “You finally understand what I’ve been saying to you all-she’s it for us. Anyone else, and this all will turn to shit. Especially if that anyone is
Samantha fucking Davenport.” The sound of her name rolls off his tongue like the poison she is.
“We can’t bring her back,” I speak the words I know he doesn’t want to accept.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.