GOLDEN BLOOD

Paris sat in the center of the cave with bats around her.

The mammals brought her fruits, like mangoes and figs, dropping into her lap for her to eat. They loved her, treating her as their queen.

He eat with them and fed the little ones.

The tiny ones were hanging off her ears and shoulders, some playing with her hair, and some resting on her lap. They were all having fun but her mind was clouded by her own thoughts.

Alexander was watching all the merry-go-round, quietly standing in the corner. Taking his sweet time, keenly observing her; and her delicate features, her body—elegant and curvy as he’d remembered her. She looked so lovely. And considerably composed, and calm, given the situation.

“Paris,” Alexander called, and everything ruffled inside her hearing him say her name. She shivered but kept herself very still, and her eyes shut tight even though he couldn’t see her.

He’d been with that woman, and even after knowing it wasn’t Paris, he was still with her.

There was a melancholy eerie feeling in the air. They both felt it.

“You could have left the cave when Terence came to take you home,” he said.

“I was having fun here...with them.” She said petting one of the tiny creatures.

“Paris, about what happened—”

“I can’t blame you, nor can’t I accuse you. You were being framed, clearly under a false image, but knowing all, you still stayed with her and it hurts and I can’t look at you right now, so please just leave me alone and go away.” Her voice cracked at the end, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Angel...”

She closed her hands on her eyes, painfully. “Please... just go...”

Suppressing a stab of disappointment, he still continued to approach her. “Paris, my Angel...” he purred. “Do you not trust me?”

“I wish I had my memories,” she said hurtfully. So she would know how deeply she was in love with him before to ensure how deeply she would trust him. She hardly knew him, and she’d fallen in love with him so quickly, so completely, who was still a mystery in so many ways.

“I’ll leave now.” she put the little creature on the ground gently and stood up.

“We need to talk Angel.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You can’t avoid this conversation for long.”

“Then. Did you kiss her?” she asked.

He felt his heart harden once again, but he has to be honest with her. She has to know the truth.

“I only kissed her because—” He started, but Paris interrupted.

“O god... I don’t want to hear it... please stop.” She shut her ears with both her hands. She shook her head as she swallowed the constriction in her throat.

Although he accepted such a reaction, her action annoyed him. However, she has a rightful way to be angry with him. But Alexander wasn’t going to give up. She needs to hear the whole story—his side of the story, rather than whatever delusional thoughts she’d made for herself to believe.

“The resemblance was uncanny, Paris. She got your scent and your voice undeviatingly correct. Anyone could have been fooled by looking at her and not thinking it wasn’t you.” This was the easy part, but the hard thing for him to say was... “Yes, I kissed her.” And Paris flinched at his words. Her heart throbbed with pain, and her vision blurred from more tears.

“Just stop, please.” She cut him off gently this time.

“No, you need to hear this, Paris.” He continued. “That one kiss assured me, it wasn’t you. That she wasn’t my Angel—my Paris, whom I love so much.” Alexander observed her keenly. Feeling courageous, he boldly took a step closer to her, now that she was listening to him.

“It’s a very small impression; you probably haven’t even noticed, but a trail of goosebumps runs up your arms every time I kiss you, Paris. Every. Single. Time. Kiss after kiss, I’ve seen it appear and reappeared.”

“If you knew why were you still with her?” There was doubt in her voice when she said this, and she refused to meet his gaze.

Alexander felt a gut-deep distaste that she yet did not trust him.

“Paris, you need to understand my intention was only to be with her until you were safe. I wanted to know her game plan, then punish her for her inexpiable crime.” He explained.

But Paris couldn’t buy it; it wasn’t enough for her heart to soften.

“Terence couldn’t sense you or locate you, and that was a problem, so I did what needed to be done, Paris.” The thought alone made her palm go cold.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I had to play along, and nothing went as far as a natural touch or a kiss. All along, it was torture for me to be with her.” He tried to convince her. But Paris hadn’t accepted his amendment, his emotion yet.

“Paris, let me hold you...” His confident air was shaking, but he still kept himself well composed.

“I don’t know if I could... it-it still hurts not to think... I need some time...” She sniffled. She closed her eyes; wished she could return to her simple life as she’d imagined after meeting him, after all that love they’d shared in her four feet-four square bathroom; on her bed.

She needs something strong, something so powerful to forget this whole ordeal. She wished this was the memory she could forget.

He wanted to hold her, kiss her so desperately, it was tormenting him with her nearness. With a heavy heart, he drew back.

“Then slap me. I don’t care. I am yours with all my heart, body, and soul.” He vowed. “Just don’t hate me, Paris.” Alexander was too scared, afraid that she was thinking of separation or, worse—breaking their bond. “Don’t leave me.”

In Paris’s loyal heart, there were no thoughts of hatred for him or desertion. Yes, she was hurt and upset, but he was a good man, and she had true respect for his honesty, but right at this moment she wanted space, and on the contrary, Alexander wanted to be with her.

Her silence bothered him.

“Paris, we’re bonded mates. Our bond is so strong that nothing could break us apart. Nothing can come between us, my Angel.” He said boldly. “It was wrong of me to leave you with no explanation and to disrespect you, and for that, I truly apologize for hurting you. I beg for your forgiveness...” He pleaded.

The love in his heart urged him to seize what he wanted, what he needed—her.

Slowly and guardedly, he padded towards her and gently clasped her arms, ever so lightly as if she was a fragile bubble. Alexander made her turn to face him. Her eyes were still closed. He wiped her tears.

“Paris, stop crying...it pains me when I see tears in your eyes.” He wiped fresh ones that leaked out of her eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, my Angel,” he cupped her face. “Please open your eyes, and see me, Paris.”

Swallowing hard, she opened her eyes. Her thick lashes fluttered, and she saw Alexander. A deep frown had settled between his dark, straight brow.

Alexander leaned and kissed her trembling lips, the touch was light, but the sparks flew bright. The simple touch of a kiss had flared goosebumps, and Alexander was happy to witness it again.

Their kiss nearly proves both their undoing. Alexander’s desire for her was so damn urgent, he wanted more, he wanted to kiss her deeply and go all the way, but he had to control his urges, so he left her mouth to douse the fire growing in his groin. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. If only he knew, the kiss had sent fire striking through her.

“How could I be with anyone else when I’ve got the most beautiful Angel set in my heart, forever,” he said. Alexander kneeled and clutched her waist tightly.

“When you died, Paris, I was broken; there was no goal left for me to live. I was so alone, so weak, and immensely hurt. I cursed for having so much power and I couldn’t even save my love. It was my biggest failure.” He was surprised to find that he was crying.

“I know this isn’t easy for you to deal with. But don’t tell me that your love is gone. I’m sorry if I’m not the right person for you, Paris... But I’m begging please, please don’t leave me.”

She was amazed and speechless.

~xXx~