Drake (Book 1)

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[40]-Will of the heart

London

11:27 p.m.

She looked outside and saw a full moon burning through the night. Constellations mapped the sky. A frigid wind chilled her bones. She thought it odd that in a city such as London, the sky would be so clear. She thought of the country-estate in Hampshire. The skies there remained clear every night, not polluted by light and smog. It seemed so distant. The estate was nothing more than ruins. She saw to that personally.

Cherry blossom trees lined the sidewalk behind her studio. Pink pedals covered their branches like tiny orbs of light. A pedal floated onto her palm from a light breeze. Then a storm of blossoms engulfed her, and she blanched as the wind howled. She let the pedal fall from her palm, joining the cluster on the surrounding ground.

Drake…

His face became eternally scorched into her mind. On a night like this, she thought of one of their most euphoric moments. Her mind traveled through time; drifting through oblivion. Upon her transformation being absolute and irreversible, her sacrifice could be considered a gift or a curse. Immortality made her a slave much like Drake. But with it came the punishment of reliving the past, repeating key moments in her head in an endless cycle.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. When she opened her eyes, she stood amid a clearing in the forest. Trees of pink blossoms inundated her, forming a canopy above the forest. However, through a gap, the moon’s light broke through its veils, illuminating a single spot where Lyn stood.

Drake had given her the great bow, Styx. The only weapon that rivaled Acheron and the great blade known as the Pillar of Hercules. Initially, she struggled to master the bow, though Drake insisted it had chosen her. She doubted him, but years later would come upon the realization that she was worthy to wield such a power. The power to shatter the sturdiest walls and armor. The power to vanquish all that corrupted and defiled the Earth.

But she questioned her resolve as she had back then. The bow would never allow one so- conflicted to harness its power…

That night she struggled to draw its string and steady its limb. She lost track of time after her throng of missteps, but continued training. Every time she drew its string, its energy dug into her fingers and scorched her palms. It was as if the bow itself resisted her, testing her resolve and fortitude. When she collapsed from exhaustion, the bow returned to its basic form; the black pearls.

She gasped and grabbed a handful of dirt. Her tears soiled the ground, and she looked at the pearls with a scorn.

“It’s no use! How am I supposed to protect Drake when I can’t even protect myself-!”

She looked behind her. Drake stared at her solemnly and smiled. He sauntered towards her and picked up the pearls. Upon his touch, they morphed into the silver bow. He pulled her towards him and spun her body. Then he placed the bow in her hands, not removing his hands from hers. As he stood behind her, he guided her hands. Her body loosened, and she exhaled.

The bow glowed, and cherry blossoms danced with the wind, shimmering like tiny blades. Drake pressed his lips against her ear and whispered: “Be smooth. Draw and… keep both eyes open.” A bolt of light formed, and he shifted her aim to a lone boulder. “Then, release-”

She released the bolt, and it moved with blistering speed, punching a hole in the boulder and exiting the other side. Molten rock oozed from the hole and the boulder steamed. Lyn lowered the bow, astonished.

“I- I did it!”

Drake returned a broader smile. His grip tightened around her waist and she squealed. She looked over her shoulder where his deep blue eyes met hers.

“You overthink things,” he said. “Form a line with your arms and the bow. Think of it as an extension of your arm…”

His soft touch made her knees buckle and her heart felt as if it would leap from her throat. At that moment, she knew her love for him was unconditional and irrevocable. He made her weak in every way imaginable, melting her heart and forging it. Forging it into something new; a heart made full-metal that would withstand the test of time. Or crumble and whither into the wind.

Her lips attached to his with a magnetic effect. His hands caressed her tight body from breast to thigh. Afterwards, Styx accepted her as its master. Her strength and resolve a proclamation of her love for him.

Lyn opened her eyes and he was gone. She stood at the steps to her ballet studio.

I let myself wander off again...


12:44 p.m.

Drake groaned and looked at the mountain of paperwork before him distastefully. He leaned back against his chair and stared out the panel window in his office. Other lawyers and attorneys pranced up and down the white steps to the courthouse. The Union Jack hung proudly from poles attached to buildings, flapping in the wind. Pigeons gathered on his window sill outside and pecked at the glass.

The sky was an unusual gray. He heard the door open as a man walked in.

Drake swiveled his chair to face him and raised a brow. “Godfrey, you’re back.”

Godfrey closed the door with his foot and scooted away a stack of files from the desk. He placed a large sack on it and opened it. Drake’s face turned pale at the aroma of food escaping, and he nearly wretched. Godfrey made a face and closed the sack.

“Are you feeling okay, sir?” he asked.

Drake nodded. “I have had little of an appetite lately… It’s been a rough week.”

“Perhaps a cup of tea would suffice?”

“I think so…”

Godfrey turned to a table in the corner. He filled two cups with boiling water from the coffee maker and placed a tea bag in each. He added an extra touch of lemon and honey and stirred, steam rising from the cups. Godfrey served Drake his tea and sat on the chair in front of his desk.

Drake took a sip, and the color returned to his face. “Godfrey, I have to ask. What’s in your tea?”

Godfrey shrugged. “Family secret, sir.”

He wrapped a cloth around his bleeding hand, but a drop of blood escaped and soiled the carpet. Godfrey stifled a gasp. Drake tilted his head and took a deep sniff.

“Godfrey, do you smell that-?”

“No sir…”

Drake scoffed and sipped his tea again. “Odd. Say, Godfrey, why hasn’t Molly been to work lately? I’m about to fire that worthless girl and make you an assistant attorney.”

Godfrey made a face and paused. “Sir, you don’t know? Molly’s gone missing. That’s why I’m here fulfilling her duties at the moment-”

Drake jumped from his chair, knocking a few law volumes from the bookshelf behind him. The stacks of paperwork followed, crashing down onto Godfrey.

“How did I not know about this!” Drake snapped.

Godfrey swatted away the piles of paper from his lap and coughed. “Sir, you were unconscious for three days straight! Molly has already been missing for three bloody days-!”

Drake’s fists slammed into the desk, and Godfrey flinched. As Drake looked down, he saw a deep crack that nearly split the desk in two. He studied his hands, unscathed but worn and covered with scars. Godfrey sighed, relieved, and tugged the lapel of his suit. The phone rang, the vibration almost knocking it off the desk. But Drake caught it and answered.

“Hello?”

“I have your assistant. Molly, is her name right?” the voice replied.

Drake gasped and broke out in a cold sweat.

The voice chuckled with a certain rasp to it. “I’ll take that as a yes, friend. Want to talk to her-?”

“Who are you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” the man answered curtly.

The phone line popped and hissed. The man’s voice was replaced by a woman’s muffled screams. Drake turned to Godfrey, his face contorted into misery.

“She has lovely hazel eyes and red hair. Does it remind you of someone? Come to Hampshire at midnight; where it all began… If you’re even a second late, I’ll devour her- alive…”

Static filled Drake’s ears as the call ended. He dropped the phone, and it dangled off the desk by its cord. Godfrey gulped.

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