Page 25 of His Dark Pull

“This is a book my grandfather gave me when I was a child,”he says, his voice filled with a hint of nostalgia. It tells the fable of a mighty kingdom and the legacy it had built over the centuries. It has kings and queens and magic creatures.”

I run my fingers over the smooth leather cover, feeling the weight of history and the power of storytelling. He sits down beside me, his thigh brushing against mine, and a thrill of awareness shoots through me.

“The story of this royal family is a tale of strength and determination,”he continues, his eyes fixed on mine, their intensity making breathing difficult. “It is a story of sacrifice and of love that transcends even death.”

“Your grandfather,”I ask, my voice weak. “Did you love him?”

He looks down. “I don’t remember much of him besides the storytelling, Ava,”he replies. “He was taken from me early on.”

“And your family?”I press, my curiosity growing. “Your sister? Do they also share this love of stories that you shared with your grandfather?”

He hesitates, his eyes darkening. “Let’s talk about the book instead, shall we?”he says, his voice tight, as if he’s closing a door on a part of his past that he doesn’t want to revisit.

I listen, mesmerized, as Alexander speaks of his grandfather, his voice filled with a quiet reverence. He paints vivid pictures of their shared evenings, huddled by the fire, his grandfather’s voice weaving tales of mythical creatures, brave heroes, and enchanted kingdoms. The passion in his words, the way his eyes light up as he speaks, reveals a tenderness I haven’t seen before, a glimpse of the boy who had once dreamed of dragons and damsels in distress.

I find myself drawn to him, the way his stories transport me to a world where anything seems possible. My concerns, the suspicions that have plagued me since his return, fade away, replaced by a childlike wonder and a yearning for the magic he so effortlessly evokes.

He stands abruptly and looks at his watch, his hand extended towards me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s time to go,”he says, his voice husky. “I have a surprise for you.”

In that moment, Sarah’s warnings, the dark secrets, all fade into the background. All that matters is the man standing before me, his hand outstretched, inviting me on an adventure.

I take his hand, my heart pounding in my chest as he leads me through the house, into the back garden, and out the gate. A sleek black car awaits us, its engine purring like a contented beast. He opens the door for me, his touch startles me, and I slide into the leather seat.

He settles in beside me, his hand reaching for mine, his fingers intertwining with mine. “Close your eyes,”he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.

I obey, my heart racing with excitement as the car glides into motion. I have no idea where we’re going, but I trust him completely. The hum of the engine, the gentle sway of the car, and the warmth of his hand in mine lull me into a state of bliss.

When the car comes to a stop, he helps me out. “Open your eyes,”he says.

I gasp, my breath catching in my throat as I take in the sight before me. We’re standing in the city’s heart, before a magnificent old building. Its facade, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, is adorned with intricate carvings and stained glass windows that shimmer with a kaleidoscope of colors.

He leads me inside, enveloping me in a world of warmth and enchantment. The air is filled with classical music and the gentle flicker of candlelight everywhere I look.

“Oh, Alexander, this is – perfect.”

A smile spreads on his face, “wait until you see the upstairs.”

He guides me up a grand staircase, my eyes widening. We arrive at the rooftop, where a table for two has been set under a canopy of twinkling stars. The view is breathtaking. All of Port Haven spread out before us like a glittering tapestry of lights and shadows.

He pulls out my chair, his eyes filled with an unspoken emotion that makes my heart skip a beat.

I sit down, mesmerized by the view. It’s as if we’re floating above it all, suspended in a world of our own.

He pours me a glass of wine, the rich, velvety liquid swirling in the crystal glass like liquid rubies. I take a sip, savoring the complex flavors that dance on my tongue.

“It’s beautiful,” I say.

“Just like you,”he replies, his voice low and husky, making me shudder.

His words send a blush creeping up my neck. I take another sip of wine, trying to compose myself to remember the questions that have brought me here.

“I must admit, I was a little apprehensive about coming here,” I confess.

“Why is that?”he asks, his eyes searching mine as if he already knows the answer.

“I don’t know,”I say with a shrug, my gaze dropping to the glittering cityscape below. “I guess I just wasn’t sure what to expect.”

“Well, I hope I’m exceeding your expectations,”he says with a sly grin, his charm as disarming as ever.

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