Immortal Need by LeTeisha Newton Read Free Book Online

All she had to do was ask, and he would give it to her. Dare he hope? Was there a way to save her from a goddess that was all-seeing? Had the strength of his very existence, the skills that he had learned over thousands of years, all of his pain in their deaths, had it only happened to bring him to this point? Make time, she had asked him. He had often said if he had been given the chance, he would do anything to make it right. Was this the chance now?
    Gods, let it be, he prayed.
    “When we met, you were a shepherd’s daughter. But your beauty was renowned. I was the main warrior for the leader of our tribe, and many believed he would take you for himself. But he was not an unkind man, and he saw the way that I looked at you. He gave you to me. It was the way things were done, long before the children of the one God walked the earth. It took time, but we learned each other and fell in love. But several years later, I did not do as I should have, and you paid the price. With your death, my very existence changed. I was no longer a simple soldier out to claim more prizes and treasures. I was the plaything of a cruel goddess. It became my job to watch over women whose lives would be taken by men who were supposed to protect them. I swore that if I ever had the chance to be near you again, that I would protect you with everything that I was. That I would have my chance to have happily-ever-after with you, the way I was supposed to the first time. I have waited a very long time. And then you came to me, looking at me with eyes that don’t recognize me, but holding me against a body that doesn’t want to escape my touch. That is what’s real, Ayah. That is the truth. Now, will you help me help you?”
    “But you’re white.”
    “And that matters because…?” he asked, confused.
    “I’m black. There is no way they let you marry me in the past.”
    He laughed once he got her meaning.
    “Have you ever heard of the Queen of Sheba?”
    “I think most people have. Why?” she asked, frowning.
    “She was of Africa, of Ethiopia, as it’s called today. She was a lover of King Solomon, who was, for all intents and purposes, not black. In my time, and now, color was not of importance.”
    He watched her as she took it all in. Her face was so expressive. He could have sworn he could hear her arguing with herself, sorting through the facts and the emotions right in front of him. He waited for her as if they had all of the time in the world instead of just days. Make time, she’d asked, and he was doing so for her. He needed to know what was going on in her life, about her siblings and those closest to her. He also needed to prepare this house for battle, to teach her what to do. He wouldn’t think about the end right now. He couldn’t. If he did, he would try his best to whisk her away and force Freya to show herself. He had no idea if he could save her or if he could even try to. He’d have to think, plan, and try something. Because he wasn’t sure that he could kill this woman. Freya’s torture would be cruel and swift, but he’d suffered worse with the loss of the love of his life.
    The more he watched her pace the room as she thought, he realized that she wasn’t a replica of his former wife. Her stroll was more determined, her stance much more secure. She had an assurance about her that Nila had never possessed. It was then he realized that he had still, despite knowing she housed Nila’s soul, been thinking of them as two distinct people. She may house Nila’s soul, but she was her own person, spiced with the memories, experiences, and mannerisms of this life. He looked at her with new eyes. Her nose was just a bit more upturned, her eyes wider. Her face was slightly narrower, so that her eyes seemed almost too big for her face. Her lips were a perfect pout, and softer, fuller, like the taste of her. Gods be damned, but he craved her still, even more than he had before, if that were even possible. She wasn’t