Forbidden Love - Fragments of Forgotten Love

Chapter 17

"What are you thinking?" he asked, catching me watching him.

"That I'm glad it's you," I replied honestly. "If I had to face all of this, the awakening, the Council, everything, I'm glad it's with you."

His expression softened as he crossed to me, his hands framing my face with careful tenderness. "Six hundred years ago, I defied a kingdom for you. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

The kiss that followed was different from our cautious one the night before, deeper, more certain, a promise rather than a question. When we finally parted, something had shifted between us, a bridge spanning the centuries that had tried to keep us apart.

"Costa," I whispered, my hands resting against his chest where I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong. "I don't want to wait anymore."

Understanding dawned in his eyes. "Are you certain?"

"The only thing I've ever been, and I’ve waited 600 years to be fully yours and you mine,” I said, my eyes filled with love, longing and want.

He lifted me into his arms with surprising strength for a man who'd been in stasis for centuries, carrying me to the bed with reverent care. Our nightclothes fell away, revealing what we'd only imagined in stolen moments six hundred years before.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns across my skin as if memorising every curve and plane.

"So are you," I replied, marvelling at the lean strength of him, the way the lamplight caught in his dark hair.

Our first time together was unhurried, tender, a discovery rather than a conquest. When we finally joined, it felt like the completion of a promise made centuries ago. The world beyond our small dwelling faded away, time itself becoming meaningless as we found each other in the most ancient way possible.

Afterwards, lying in his arms with my head against his chest, I felt tears slip down my cheeks.

"What is it?" Costa asked, his fingers gently wiping the moisture away.

"I was just thinking about all the nights we could have had," I said. "All the mornings we lost."

He kissed my forehead, his arms tightening around me. "We can't get those back. But we can make every night we have now count for a hundred of the ones we lost."

I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, more at peace than I had any right to be on the eve of confronting our captors once more.

Morning brought purpose with it. The entire settlement seemed to vibrate with controlled energy as preparations for our plan accelerated. Costa and I spent hours with Elena and the resistance strategists, refining every detail of our approach.

"The transmission needs to be believable," Elena insisted as we reviewed the message that would serve as bait for Dr. Thorne. "Desperate but not too desperate. You need to sound like you're struggling with adaptation."

"That won't be difficult," Costa replied dryly. "We are struggling."

I studied the drafted message once more:

*To any remaining Council authorities: This is Shantali Jackson and Costa Blackthorne. The resistance is holding us against our will. The Eastern Sanctuaries are not the utopia they claim. We request extraction and return to preservation until a more suitable arrangement can be made. Transmitting coordinates for retrieval.*

"It's perfect," I said finally. "Thorne will believe we're overwhelmed by the new world, seeking the comfort of control again."

"And the tracking devices?" Costa asked, turning to the technicians who had been working through the night.

A young woman stepped forward, holding what looked like delicate jewellery, a bracelet for me, a pendant for Costa. "These will allow us to monitor your vital signs and location at all times. If anything goes wrong, we can activate the rescue protocol immediately."

"And the memory anchors?" I pressed, knowing these would be crucial to our plan.

Elena produced two new stones, similar to the ones we'd carried during our escape but with subtle differences in their internal structure. "These are different," she explained. "Instead of stabilising fragmented memories, they'll record everything you experience. If Thorne's team has developed new consciousness manipulation techniques, we need documentation."

Costa examined his pendant carefully. "How long do we have once they take the bait?"

"Intelligence suggests they're operating from a mobile facility," one of the strategists replied. "Could be anywhere within a three-day travel radius. We'll need to track your movement patterns to locate their base."

I slipped the bracelet over my wrist, feeling its subtle warmth against my skin. "And if they've learned from their past failures? If they don't try to reset us this time?"

"Then we adapt," Elena said firmly. "The one advantage we have is that they still see you as property. They can't conceive of you choosing to walk into their trap."

As the final preparations concluded, Costa and I found ourselves alone in our dwelling one last time. The simple room that had become our first real home together now felt precious, fragile—something we might never see again.

"I love you," I said suddenly, the words carrying the weight of six centuries of separation.

"I love you too," he replied, pulling me close. "Whatever happens next, remember that. Remember us."

The transmission went out at noon, broadcast on frequencies known to be monitored by Council remnants. Within hours, we had our response, not words, but action. Long-range scanners detected aircraft moving toward Haven's Gate, their flight patterns suggesting careful surveillance rather than immediate attack.

"They're taking the bait," Elena reported, her voice tight with tension. "Three vessels, approaching from different vectors. They'll be here by nightfall."

Costa and I spent the remaining hours saying goodbye to the settlement that had welcomed us so briefly. Children who had played with us just days before now watched with solemn eyes, understanding that something important was happening even if they couldn't grasp the full scope.

"Will you come back?" little Mira asked, tugging at my dress as shadows lengthened across the orchards.

"We'll try," I promised, kneeling to hug her small form. "But if we don't, remember what we talked about, being 'just people' is the most important thing."