Page 33 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

“Storm doesn’t usually take to strangers. And how do you know about his arthritis?”

“Because Asher has a unique ability to communicate with dogs more than he can with humans,” Callum says with a hint of sarcasm.

Asher remains by the dog but looks up at him with a raised brow and turns his attention back to the dog.

"I make a connection to canines based on understanding and trust. And the fact that I volunteered for years at a dog shelter back home.”

Even though Eden remains a passive stance, I catch a flicker of warmth that passes through her for a split second as her eyes remain fixed on Asher. It’s quick, so I don’t know if the other two caught it.

“So what do you say, Eden? Wipe the slate clean? Join us on this new venture.”

She raises a brow at me.

“What if I don’t agree? Will you still make your music?”

“It won’t be the same, Eddie,” Asher says, getting up. “The magic we made was with you, and it would be a huge shame you let this opportunity pass u. But the four of us are itching to get back into the studio, and that’s where we’ll be headed after this. The rental lease for Haze’s old place in Brentwood ended last month, and the couple living there moved out. It has five bedrooms, and Sierra had it furnished for us in no time. One bedroom is yours if you want it.”

“Sierra?” she flickers her eyes at him. I’d love to know what she’s thinking.

“My PA, back in England. She’ll be helping us out remotely while we’re out here.”

“So?” Jagger asks while we all eagerly await her reply.

Gone is that irritation on her face.

“No,” she says bluntly, much to my sudden feeling of disappointment. “I have no interest in playing music or starting any new venture with you. So I’d prefer it if you just left.”

“Eden, don’t bullshit us,” I say, quickly jumping to change her mind. “There were five music journals on that armchair before Catalina scooped them up.

“Your memory lingers like a ghost, bittersweet.

Guitar strings weep in the pouring rain,

Lost love echoes through the windowpane.”

I sing out the first verse of the song I found in her journal. The one I know affected her more than the other songs.

“Stop it!” she angrily barks, tension building quite fast between us, but I need to break her and convince her it's for the best that she considers our offer.

“That song is about us,” I retort. “It’s the pain you felt of betrayal. Trust me, Eden, I have the same trust issues as you. But I’m here because I want to make music again, not to recreate something thatobviously never worked. We were never meant to get into a relationship, but shit happened and we did. I don’t want to rehash a relationship with you. I want to play music with you.”

Her eyes widened like a surprised owl.

“So you’re saying if I agree to this, it’s just music?”

“Eden.”

We all turn to Catalina, whose voice suddenly bursts into the room from nowhere.

“You know you cannot go back to LA,” she says to her. “You might as well tell them the truth and stop stringing them on.”

Eden painfully looks away from us.

“Eden can never return to LA, so you’ll all have to leave now.”

What the bloody fuck?

“You should go,” Eden asserts firmly, regaining her composure.

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