Exaltation (Insight #11)(16)
The prophecy was lyrical, and the birth of the souls was only mentioned in a few lines. He told himself that was why he didn’t recognize it when the words became his life. Even though he was sure the Creator himself had blinded him purposely. Knowing he would never agree to this course of life for any child of his.
Jamison knew at that exact moment Emery’s twins, his, were the guardians to Raine’s daughter, the one she removed all claim to. He knew how hard and dark the innocent babes’ lives would be. He felt sick to his core, sick his daughters were a part of this Rapture, that he had pulled Emery within it. He knew Emery, someone who by all accounts saw her heritage as myths, would never forgive him.
That day he watched as Thelma Ray took over the stroller and Emery pulled a gift from underneath it. She kissed the babes then nervously looked at Jamison’s home. Thelma Ray nudged her to go on, and a few seconds later she did.
The idea of being alone with her, after what he had just been through, what he knew was now between them, was overwhelming. Any sense of calm he was known for in the coven was lost in the brief meeting with her that afternoon. He couldn’t meet her eyes, couldn’t find words to speak. She was the only woman who had ever made him edgy, stole his breath.
Emery had taken mercy on him, was kind, patient, and offered to help with anything he needed. It was a few weeks later when Jamison was doing his best to calm Raven by strolling through the streets of the Quarter with her in his arms, that he found himself at Emery’s home.
She invited him in for dinner and found it odd he still wouldn’t put Raven down, had her snug against his chest at all times. Gently she took Raven from him. To his shock Raven didn’t cry. She was at peace right next to the twins, even though they were older, more mobile. Watching them play eased Raven.
Jamison stayed the night. He stayed every night for those first two years. He slept on the couch and did his part to help with the nightly feedings and changings. It was all a blur, and somewhere in that haze he fell even harder for Emery. Mine, made of me.
Falling for her felt like sin. He knew that though he gave her the family she wanted, he’d also placed all she deemed precious in mortal danger. He went to tell her, over and over, but each time something would halt his words. It was her bliss…when he saw it in her eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to lay their children’s ominous fate on her lap.
He knew if he touched her, held her once, he wouldn’t have the power to withhold any truths from her. And that’s why, diligently for two years, he rarely met her eyes even though they lived side by side. His focus and her focus was squarely on the girls at all times, marveling as they passed through infanthood.
Late one night when he came in from work he found her lingering in the girls’ doorway, just smiling at them as they slept.
Emery was breathtaking. Not just because of the classic beauty she carried but also for the hum of her soul as it reached out to Jamison, constantly beckoning him closer.
That night for some reason the glint in her eyes when she looked up at him, saw him—really looked deep in his soul—slaughtered every inch of Jamison’s willpower.
He couldn’t stop himself. He pulled her from the doorway, leaned her against the wall, and deepened the absorbing gaze between them. Emery’s chest was rising and falling. There was fear in her eyes, enough to make him hesitate, but then all at once she leaned up and took his lips.
The sensation was mind-blowing to Jamison, and nearly brought him to his knees. They had never spoken of his immortality before then, his power. As far as he knew Emery was oblivious to it. Hiding that element of himself from her just then was impossible. His energy wrapped around her and he whisked her to her room. Slowly, they explored each other, fell into a high which was hard to explain—numb, captivating, astounding.
Jamison barely stopped himself that night and when he did the only emotion on Emery’s visage was shock. Out of breath he sat on the edge of her bed, shirtless, his belt undone, slacks all but opened wide, and stared forward. The truth of his sins spilled from his lips in a whisper that caressed the darkness around them.
Emery sat eerily still as he spoke. After a long silence her gaze drifted over him, and then told him she knew the prophecy, that the very Rapture her parents were waiting on was what inspired her love for her career. She told him she had felt it, the truth of it, as she watched the girls play, as she realized how alike all the girls looked, how they carried Jamison’s features.
Emery approached everything logically, and that is how she saw the pair of them, the course before them. It was months later she asked on a heated breath of passion for him to give her immortality, asked him to allow her to see their girls’ path she was sure was generations ahead. No hesitation came from him. He wanted her strong, safe, and at his side—forever.
The life they led currently, the distance between them, before the girls and before the coven, was Emery’s idea. She didn’t want anyone in the coven to see the truth, to see that their children, along with Soren, were now born. She didn’t want them to know the Rapture was due to come—that the fallen angel and the womb-less woman were silently raising warriors.
Today, only select members knew what the girls and Soren were destined for. Others surely assumed, enough so that Jamison didn’t feel Emery’s reasons for their secret love affair made any sense. He didn’t like that only one of his daughters called him father, even though he’d raised them all.