Midnight Cove
Mine, Always

There were no days in the Underground, time seemed to stand still. One perfect evening that stretched on into an eternity. I had no need for want at the Dark Palace. I was made to feel as one of the royal family. The servants never spoke to me, they would nod or bow, and then run off to do my bidding. At first, I found it off-putting and spoke to Phoenix about it during our first meal together.

“Why won’t anyone talk to me? Is it because I’m human?” I asked, a little upset that when I had asked if there was red wine instead of white the servant just turned and left, coming back post haste with a fresh glass of red wine. Then, setting it on the white linen tablecloth he immediately retreated once again.

“What?” Phoenix rose his eyebrows. If anything displeased me he would act without hesitation.

“The servants.” I clarified. “They never talk to me. Not a word.” I was extremely perplexed by this, but I didn’t want to overplay the situation and end up getting someone fired because of Phoenix’s unrelenting need to make me happy.

“Oh,” he relaxed back into his chair. “They don’t speak to us unless they are asked a direct question. It’s just etiquette.” He smiled, “Don’t worry about it, Darling.”

“Oh,” I said, a little embarrassed. I wasn’t used to royal life. This was something new to me entirely. The idea of a high ranking station was a bit odd, especially since I was coming from such an average, or in all actually, below average lifestyle. I hadn’t even come to terms with the money Terry had left for me, and this dwarfed that by so much, it was unreal.

“How do you like faery food?” Phoenix asked, wanting to take my mind off of the servants. He knew I was feeling more than uncomfortable. I doubted he realized how less than worthy I felt of all this extravagance.

“It’s wonderful!” I couldn’t deny that. The food of the Faeries was ornate and scrumptious. It was so pretty to look at I felt guilty for eating it. That is, until I put it in my mouth.

The baked goods were sweet and light. I found I had to pace myself, or I would look like a glutton. It never seemed to give me the feeling of being full, or heavy, the way human baked goodies would. I didn’t feel hungry either. It was just a pleasant way to pass the time.

I had never seen an overweight faery, but I didn’t know if that was because of the food, or just because they were Faeries. It was easy to see that one could overindulge without trying. I made sure to always leave something on my plate. Sometimes I would gauge myself by how much Phoenix was eating.

We would often have breakfast together on the balcony of our suite. One morning, he broached the subject. “Why do you stop eating when I do? I’ve noticed you only eat as long as I am, never more.” He had asked gingerly, making sure not to offend me or embarrass me by the question. He was always sensitive to my feelings.

“I don’t know,” I lied. Then, deciding to be a little more truthful, I added, “Because I never feel full. I don’t want to look overfed.” I didn’t want to say fat. It sounded vain and ridiculous.

Phoenix leaned back and laughed wholeheartedly. “You can’t get fat off of faery food. It doesn’t work like that.” He sat forward again picking up his fork.

“Moreover, Bonnie, I love you exactly the way you are. If you gained weight, then I would love you that way too. You are always going to be the most beautiful woman in my life.”

He looked into my eyes, his face holding back so many deep emotions. I smiled and looked down at my plate. Then, I took up another roll and ferociously bit into it. Phoenix laughed at my overdramatization and I swallowed my mouthful of food before I, too, joined in his merry chuckle.

And so, my time spent at the Dark Palace went on like this. Each meal a happy production, every conversation was spent in laughter. It got to be that I was so used to being with Phoenix I hardly missed my life above ground. It was only at bedtimes when I would think back on all the things I left behind, which wasn’t much. I would occasionally reminisce about my job at the coffee shop, or my little apartment studio with the bamboo floors.

There were times that I would cry myself to sleep with thoughts of Terry or Jenna. On the whole though, I felt happy. Phoenix never shared my bed, he never pressed me, or even brought up the subject of sex. I was grateful for that. I wondered how long it would be before I would be ready to open myself up like that again.

One night, I awoke in what would have been considered morning above ground, and my room was filled with stargazer lilies. Their intoxicating aroma filled my nostrils as soon as I opened my eyes. There must have been hundreds of them in vases placed all around. I bounced out of bed, going from one spot to another taking in their scent. I had a smile on my face so large it began to hurt. The last vase I stopped by was filled with an assortment of flowers: jasmine, moonflowers, yellow primroses, lilies and red and white tulips, my favorite. There was a little pink card with beautiful black script that read:

For my flower in the night, sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

You have made the past year of my life the best it has ever been.

Meet me on the balcony my love when you are ready.

Happy Anniversary, I love you.

Phoenix

I gasped, I hadn’t noticed that so much time had gone by. I looked at myself in the full length mirror by my wardrobe, but it didn’t look as though I had aged a day. Everything here stayed perfectly ageless.

I dressed myself in a full length silk gown that hugged my curves and shined like pearl. It would have been way over the top, but when you lived in a palace you could walk around every day like it was prom night and no one would think it out of place.

I fixed my makeup and curled my hair. I almost never bother to curl my hair. When you have fine, straight hair like mine, it almost never holds the curl, which makes the four hour arduous task of curling it hardly worth the trouble. Having golden blonde hair that reaches down to your hips sounds wonderful, until you actually try to do something with it.

My sister, Grace had always fawned over my long hair, so I could never bring myself to cutting it, although I did sometimes fantasize about chopping it off into a trendy pixie cut or bob, like so many other young girls my age. Finally finished with my primping, I gave myself a once over in the mirror. I had to smile. I hated the thought of being vain, but I looked good, and the acknowledgement made me blush giving my cheeks just the right amount of color. I donned my sparkly high heels that I almost never wore, and headed out to meet my boyfriend on the balcony.

Words cannot describe how absolutely stunning he looked in his well tailored black suit, his white collared shirt opened at the top, revealing his tan, hairless chest. He stood there with his smile as luminescent as my dress, just dazzling in the darkness. He strode up to me with his ever present confident demeanor that I had become accustomed to. He bowed, like a true king, placing a soft kiss on the back of my hand. Rising, his eyes were twinkling as he handed me a huge white flower with the blossom as large as my hand.

“This is for you,” he said, his voice husky with emotion.

“Oh, Phoenix,” I looked down at the spiny blossom. “It’s beautiful. What flower is this?”

“It’s a night blooming cactus flower called a Cereus.” He took it from my fingers and very tenderly, placed it behind my left ear.

“This flower blooms, despite the dark night and the dangerous plant it stems from. Just like you, Bonnie. In spite of your hardships, or the perils around you, your loveliness blossoms each night.” Phoenix paused in front of me and took up my hand a huge grin on his handsome face. “And lucky for me, it is always night here.” He winked at me, and I giggled.

I timidly felt for the flower in my hair before answering. “Thank you, Phoenix. I love it.” I came close to him then, and curled my fingers around his neck, pecking him on the cheek.

His arms enclosed my waist and he started to lead me into a slow waltz. It was so romantic. I felt like two beautiful flowers spinning around each other as they fell from the tree tops. We must have looked amazing to anyone watching. We were perfectly alone though as we swayed and swooped to a rhythm no one could hear.

I started to laugh and I was having so much fun it triggered a distant memory of Cove. I had to stop myself before my laughter turned to sobs. I wasn’t going to let anything ruin our night.

When Phoenix dipped me back ending the waltz he asked, “What is it?” He wanted to be in on the joke, but I had been unnoticably shaken by the memory of dancing with his brother.

“Nothing,” I said a little too quickly. Then I covered by adding, “Well, there isn’t any music.”

“Ah,” Phoenix said acknowledging. He righted me again to stand on my feet. “I can fix that.” And he grabbed my hand and pulled me along.

We crossed the sitting room and the study, and when we headed for the black door in the corner my heart started to pound in my chest. I was so excited. In the year that I had come to live there, not once did I ever hear Phoenix playing. I had actually tried to open the door one time to see if it was unlocked, it wasn’t. I desperately wanted to hear his music, I wanted to see him play for me again.

We walked into the round room. It looked exactly as it had the first time I saw it. The open wood beam ceiling and the large bare rock walls with their high windows were still just as magnificent, but the grand Steinway piano in the center of the room demanded all of my attention.

Phoenix went over to the bench without hesitation. I lingered back allowing him to get comfortable. Such a fine instrument intimidated me, but Phoenix was in complete control, a master at his work. He started to play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Drawn by the music, I began my slow deliberate approach.

The sad beautiful music stirred in me. I had a strong urge to twirl and dance about the tower. Each note twinkled and soared like being on the stage of the world’s greatest opera house. I came near and eased myself onto the floor beside him.

How delicately his fingers danced across the ivory keys. It wasn’t a wonder that Beethoven had never written lyrics to this concerto. Words were useless, there was nothing a person could say to express the depth of the tune. It was the music alone that could reach the far recesses of the heart and soul.

I watched him. Never had I before been filled with such a wretched desire for Phoenix. I wanted to own him. I wanted to make this remarkable and beautiful creature mine. He played on, never faltering, never making even a single mistake. All the while, I could think of nothing but my craving for Phoenix’s love.

I knew that I could not live without Phoenix. I coveted the perfection of his soul and I would not allow what happened between Cove and I to happen again. I would not let this dark angel slip through my fingers to be claimed by some other female. He would be mine, always.

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