Winds of Fate [Books I-III]

Chapter Forty-Two: Together Again

Eleanore loses all sense of time and place. Wildfire scorches her veins. A sharp stab to her heart roots her where she stands, unable to believe this chance. 

Clink.

The rapier falls to the ground.

Anton gazes at her, unable to speak a word. He too cannot believe it; believe that it is her standing before him. He lifts a hand, reaching out with hesitation. A knuckle grazes her cheek ever so lightly. 

Her breath hitches. She steps closer to him. 

In the dim light streaming from the cracks of the tiny shack, Eleanore can barely make out his face. But her heart knows it's him with those kind and deep set eyes and that sharp nose and jaw. His tan, olive skin is darker than how she remembered. And his soft chesnut hair, tousled in artful waves is now cropped unevenly just short of his chin, streaked with white.

His dark eyes never leave hers. Once in those eyes she had seen deep sorrow, but now she finds a glimmer of joy within them -- a spark of life. Her voice is gone. She wants to look at him for a second longer, afraid this is another dream. Eleanore cups his cheek.

He closes his eyes, leaning to her palm with a breath of relief. 

Forgetting everything else, she wraps her arms tightly around him, hiding in his embrace.

"Tesoro," Anton sighs, clutching her hair in one hand, and holding her securely by the waist with the other. "How I missed you."

"When...when did you escape?" She pulls her head up to look in his eyes.

"Nearly a year ago, but you..." Anton whispers, "What happened to you? How-" Then he frowns. "That was dangerous; going there alone! What if I was not there?"

She smiles, her lips trembling. "But you were." 

"I was..." Anton shakes his head, brushing her hair away from her face. "I was."

Eleanore presses a finger to his lips, her gaze falling there. Her heart twists painfully. She had almost forgotten how he feels. The touch falls from his soft lips, down the stubble on his chin. She gapes. Her hand weakens. 

"Anton..." Eleanore's forehead creases with worry. "You..."

"No." 

Anton clasps her to him, looking in her eyes before leaning in to bridge the mere gasp between them.

Eleanore closes her eyes. Her fingers tug at the lapels of his  coat for support. She waits, with her heart hammering fast in her chest.

Then his lips touch hers. Softly, as if he is knowing her all over again. 

She pulls him in, unafraid of his true nature, parting her lips to his. Their kiss deepens, urgent and hot. His fingers trail up her back, sending heat blooming to her cheeks. The tender touches warm her all over, drawing a soft moan. Anton hoists her dearer to him, taking her breath away but sharing his.

And that quiet moment was more than enough to bridge nearly two years of distance and loneliness.

They part, breathless, looking into each other's eyes, with their noses touching. Still locked in the embrace. 

"Two years. I was waiting. Waiting..." He stops, and Eleanore feels his hands tremble on her back. She reaches behind her and takes his hands in hers, pressing them tenderly. Anton closes his eyes. "...to see you again. I thought I lost you to the sea."

Every sorrow and doubts she had been entertaining dissipate the moment she sees his pain.  Eleanore swallows back her tears.

How did I even doubt your love?