Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
He took her face in his hands and returned her kisses. “I love you, Mary. God, I love you so very much that it hurts.”
She kept her eyes closed. “You are not alone anymore, never fear losing my love, it is forever. It will take me time to grow accustomed to your face—”
“Not too long, please?” He sounded as though her words pained him. “I want to love you in the light so that we may look upon each other.”
“It will take time. Michael is whom I trust and love. I must learn to trust and love Decimus. I see you as the same, but it is difficult to comprehend. . . . With time—”
“We do not have much time.”
She opened her eyes and tried to keep firm in her mind that it was Michael she spoke with, no matter that it was Decimus she looked upon.
“We have the rest of our lives together.”
“Nay, Mary,” he said sadly.
Her heart quickened and her stomach fluttered. “What do you mean?”
“You carry our child and I will not see either of you in danger.” He squeezed both her hands in his. “I will make plans for your escape, then see you settled in a safe place—away from me.”
Chapter 31
“Send me and your child away?” Mary asked, stunned. “You cannot mean it.”
“I will see you and my child safe,” Decimus insisted.
“Without a husband and father?”
He stood and looked down on his tearful wife with a pained heart. “You think I want this? You think that I do not want to be there with you when you give birth to my child? That I do not want to watch him grow? That I do not want a life with you and him?”
Mary stood and took a step toward him then stopped, staring at him.
Her hesitancy hurt but he understood it. She felt safe with Michael, not with Decimus. He stretched his hand out to her, giving her a choice.
She waited but a moment, staring at him, and then allowed her eyes to drift shut as she reached out and took hold of his hand.
He pulled her close, wrapping her in a tight embrace. She felt so very good, the warmth of her, the strength of her; he wanted to hold her to him forever, to never part, always love . . .
But that was not meant to be.
She looked at him with sorrowful eyes. “We can do this together, you, me, and the babe.”
He gave her a gentle kiss. “How I wish that were possible. But look at where you now temporarily reside—in the Fortress of Hell. It is no place for you and it is definitely no place for our child. And I will not have you spend your life in service to me.”
She had to smile. “You seemed to enjoy convincing me otherwise.”
“I had the perfect excuse,” he said with what appeared a hint of a smile.
Mary had never seen Decimus smile; she did not think him capable. The thought that she had touched his heart, and it had begun to heal, touched her own heart.
“You needed to think badly of me,” he continued. “I treated you poorly so that you would hate me.”
“You could have trusted me and confessed the truth.”
“It was not you who I did not trust—it was me.”
She looked at him confused.
“It would not have been easy to keep up the charade if we both were aware. My heart would have betrayed me. And as for you? From the very first time we met, you looked at Decimus with disgust. If you had known I was the Dark One, would you have looked at me the same?”
She was about to debate the issue with him but thought better of it. “You are right. My eyes would have spoken the truth no matter how hard I attempted to hide my love for you.”
“Then you see why it is impossible for you to remain here as my wife. It will be more difficult for you to hide your feelings toward me, and knowing my true identity could place both of us, and our child, in jeopardy.”
She stepped away from him, angry that they should be parted when they only found each other. “You have surrendered much of your life seeking revenge. Have you not avenged your family’s deaths enough? Can you not walk away now knowing you have accomplished what you intended and have a life of your own?”
“I have freed many who otherwise would have died brutal deaths, but more continue to be persecuted. How do I walk away from the innocent when they need someone to help them?”
“Let someone else help them,” she said angrily. “I need you and”—she placed her hand to her stomach—“your child needs you.”
He walked over to her and rested his hand over hers. “I wish . . . I wish things were different.”