Kelly Wallace-Sensual Romance Author
"Fall In Lust Every Time"
The Chosen One
The Chosen One was an interesting read. The story is very well put together, and flows beautifully. The twists and turns are enough to keep you enchanted with it from start to finish. To know, as a parent, fear for your child. Are they all right? Can I do anything to help them have a happy life? This story addresses a woman’s need to help her son in any way she can, and in the end to help herself. I hope you enjoy The Chosen One as much as I did! -- Dianna
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"I wish you would confide in me, Noel." Elise kept her voice soft as they both watched absently while Matt inspected stones, pocketing some, discarding others.
His response was a grunt as he sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, forearms resting atop, his chin planted firmly on his arms.
"I know something's bothering you. I felt it the next morning after we made love two nights ago." She turned her head, looking right at him, brows bent, biting on her lower lip. "If it's me, I wish you would let me know. I enjoy our times together at night, but I don't want you to feel obligated." She looked away as her throat burned.
"No," he said quickly, capturing her chin with his thumb and first finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Do not take that away from me. Not when I have just discovered something I never expected to find." He released his hold and looked away for a moment. When he looked at her again he said, "It is not you. Not all of it, anyway."
Elise shifted so she faced him, legs crossed tailor style, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears that had fallen out of her braid over the hours of hiking around. "Tell me what it is. You know so much about me, but I don’t know much about you."
He smiled grimly. "You know more about me than any other woman has or will."
She sighed. "I trusted you enough to allow you to bring Matt and me here. I trusted you enough to make love with you. The least you could do is to trust me with your thoughts and memories, even your feelings." She knew she was asking for a lot and wondered how much he’d offer, if anything.
Noel closed his eyes for a moment. "It is not that I have no trust in you, Elise. It is simply that I am used to keeping things to myself. To open myself up to another will take time." He pinned her with a look that said she had given him only one month, yet here she was begging him to share thirty‑five years of a solitary and often pain‑filled life in the brief amount of time they had remaining?
Elise realized how incredibly selfish she was being. Matt was blooming in this place—putting any supposed powers aside. She was more relaxed and fulfilled than she could ever remember being. She found a lover who aroused a passion in her she never knew existed. Then what was her problem? Why couldn't she simply tell Noel she would agree to stay with him for a longer period of time?
Truthfully, she was scared. Of the man at her side, of living in the jungle the rest of her life, of the impact it may have on Matt, and wondering if any of that truly mattered.
"I'm sorry." Mentally she pulled back from him. "It wasn’t fair of me to ask." Again she tore her gaze away from those hypnotizing eyes of his and shrugged. "It was so easy for me to let go, I assumed it would be that easy for anyone."
"Have you let go, Elise?" His words sounded like a soft accusation.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She resisted the urge to squirm under his intense scrutiny.
"Have you really let go of your past? Of your trepidation to stay with me here? Your skepticism as to whether or not your son's powers truly exist?" He raised an incriminating brow at her.
Elise let out a little laugh of defeat. "I see what you mean. I guess it'll take us both time," she said quietly before looking off into the distance.
"It is getting late." He directed his gaze to the sky above that was awash with a violet hue. "We had better head back home."
Her pulse jumped at his choice of words. Home. It sounded so comfortable on his lips. And that scared her.
Elise got to her feet, brushing the seat of her shorts of invisible dirt then pressed nonexistent wrinkles from her crimson gauze blouse with the flats of her hands. "Yes," she looked up at him as he stood also, "let's go home. I don't know about you, but I'm starving." She hopped off the flat stone and headed in the direction of the cave.
She heard Noel laugh. “As am I.” He came up beside her, Matthew trailing after them with bulging pockets.
As they approached the cave entrance with Noel in the lead, Elise and Matthew lagging a few feet behind, she heard him let out a loud curse as he stopped directly at the head of the porch. When she reached him she saw his fingers curled around the handle of a huge bloody knife stuck in his front door.
She inhaled a sharp breath, placing a hand over her mouth as early evening glinted off the silver blade.
"Jeez!" Matt exclaimed. "Who stabbed your door?"
Elise managed to find her voice. "Yes, Noel, who did this?"
He shrugged, jerking the razor-sharp blade out of the thick wood. "I do not know."
Elise couldn't take her eyes off the thing. "Why would anybody leave you such a calling card?" She felt ready to lose the lunch she never had as she sank onto the bench at her side.
"Probably a disgruntled villager who did not like the advice I gave him," he said in a nonchalant manner, though Elise detected something more behind his words.
"Are you in any danger?" Elise reached out and put her hand on the arm carrying the gruesome knife.
"Me?" He looked down at her, his expression hooded. "No. I am in no danger."
Elise let out a breath of relief. "That's good to hear."
"Is that human blood?" Matthew asked, looking closely at the weapon.
"Matt!" Elise stood and pulled him away. "What a thing to say. Of course it isn't human blood." She then looked warily at Noel. "Is it?"
"Chicken blood," he blandly stated before opening the front door and stalking inside, knife still in hand.
Elise walked in after him, a knot growing in the pit of her stomach. Though Noel denied it, she didn't get the impression that the knife‑plunged‑into‑his‑door incident was as small a thing as Noel made it out to be. Had it truly been a villager miffed at him? Or was the grisly message for some other reason? She also wondered if his recent blacker-than-usual mood had anything to do with it. The look on his face when he’d found the crimson‑coated weapon had not been one of surprise, but almost of expectation. Why? And who had left it?