Page 52 of His Stolen Queen
"I have to leave again," he murmured against my hair.
I pouted. "So soon? Why can't I go with you?"
"It is not our time yet. One day, I will come find you."
I glanced up at him, a frown forming. "What do you mean, silly? I'm right here."
Instead of answering, he simply kissed me.
***
Alice, 30 years old.
"I wish you didn't have to leave."
"I will be back before you know it."
My bottom lip jutted out, but he simply rolled his eyes and kissed me. I clutched the lapels of his jacket and deepened the kiss.
"Why can't I go with you?" I murmured against his mouth.
“It is not safe,” he soothed, patiently. He'd answered this question many times. “So many people wish to harm you.”
"Why? I'm no one."
He gripped my chin, his eyes flashing. "You areeverything. And they know it."
I frowned as I tried to figure out whotheywere. I admit, I was pretty well insulated inside his castle. My every whim was catered to, including my sexual needs. Yet I knew nothing of what Acheron did or how his Kingdom was run. It was as if Iceased to exist unless he was near. My brow drew down as I tried to recall the last time he left me. I could barely remember what I'd done yesterday.
"Why do I not—"
"Time is running out." I glanced at Acheron, alarmed. His face was grave as his body moved farther and farther away from me.
"Acheron? What's happening?"
"Wait for me, Alice," he pleaded, his face twisted in agony. "Remember me."
***
Alice, 30 years old.
It was the bells that I heard first. Loud bells. Church bells. But there was no church in Acheron's Kingdom. Not the religious kind anyway.
It was also daytime. It was rare for me to be awake during the day, let alone to be outside. My tolerance for daylight hadn't been built up yet, and it would take at least another fifty years for me to be outside without burns. But I wasn't feeling any effects. My skin stayed smooth and pale.
I turned around slowly in a circle, feeling disoriented. The castle that loomed over the horizon was no longer there, and the stony brook that ran through the field was also missing. I knew I was definitely in the right spot, yet nothing looked familiar. What was going on?
My gaze caught and held a lonely figure in the far distance, and my breath puffed out in relief.
Acheron.
He was facing away from me, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. He looked so forlorn and so unlike his usual sure self. With a frightened sob, I ran to him.
"Acheron," I cried. "What the hell is going on? Where is everybody? And where are those bells coming from?'
Acheron didn't respond; his gaze remained averted, his shoulders slumped.
"Acheron?"
