Soul Song ~ Book One

Chapter Twenty

The morning sunlight warmed Mirabella's midsection as it streamed through the window. Not quite wanting to face the day just yet, she stretched with her eyes squeezed shut, allowing the stretch to span from her toes to the top of her head, bit by bit. It felt so good, she sighed deeply and relaxed her body to where it could have oozed if the world tilted a little. Yawning, she scratched an itch on her side and finally yielded to the day. She sucked in her breath and started a second half-stretch and opened her eyes to meet Damien's mirrored blue ones, mere inches from her face. The yelp that she would have liked to have uttered caught in her throat as she jerked back against the wall.

"Have you been watching me?" she managed to croak out through her tight throat.

"You're beautiful when you sleep," Damien smiled in return. "So adorable when you stretch, and yawn, and scratch, and...well, anything."

Mortification charged up Mirabella's face, dyeing it crimson, as she muttered something about using facilities. She expected him to move, but when he didn't, she pushed past him. The contact between them seemed to burn her skin; not an altogether bad feeling. Once outside, she bent over, gripping her knees, trying to catch her breath. How could he take over her whole being so easily? Was this some kind of Elder Magik that she'd never heard of? The thudding of her heart slowed enough for her throat to loosen its grip and allow her to speak normally. Taking deep breaths, she reentered the hut to find the same strange smile on Damien's face. Unnerved she busied herself with breakfast to help keep her back to him.

Every fluid movement Mirabella made sparked awe in Damien. It was as though a song was being sung by his heart. It felt so large, he was surprised the organ didn't burst forth from his chest so she could hear its song as well. By the time Mirabella brought him a plate of food, he almost couldn't eat. Almost. While his mind and heart were firmly planted on Mirabella, his stomach was bent on food, ensuring his survival, even if he wouldn't.

As they ate, Mirabella tried not to look at Damien and Damien tried to look at nothing but Mirabella. He never wanted to leave her presence. A fierce need to protect her and love her and be with her always sprang up inside him as though it had a life of its own.

Somewhere in his haze, he wondered about her avoiding his gaze and managed to realize he might be making her uncomfortable. With monumental effort, he tore his eyes from his beloved Mirabella and tried to concentrate on something other than her. At least, for a minute. But then, her name rolled around in his mind, louder and louder, until at last he had to give in and look at her again. And he was glad he did; he didn't want to miss any part of her. The way her wild, wavy brown hair dropped down her cheek when her head was bent forward. The way her eyes looked out the corners at him. Whenever he saw that, a thrill would course through him. Her delicate shoulders and small, but capable, hands. Her red full lips that he longed to kiss. And those eyes. Brilliant, emerald green. Green, with sparks of green fire that could emanate from them in a split second. He wondered if the sparks would be brighter if he kissed her.

Mirabella shifted uncomfortably as Damien's emotions flooded her body. She couldn't help but wonder if he knew she could feel them. His desire was so strong, it almost overpowered her own will. She was unsure where his emotions left off and hers began. More than anything, she wanted him to stop staring. It made her uncomfortable, and impossible for her to stare at him.

"Grandmother told me last night that if you are up to it, we should walk you," she said, desperately trying not to stammer. "To help your bones strengthen." When her statement went unanswered, Mirabella risked a glance in his direction to find that he was only staring at her with the constant silly grin. "Did you hear me?" she asked, almost thankful for the mild irritation that allowed her to speak without fear of stuttering.