"You were, at one time, my Beloved, as Kristoff knows," Alec admitted slowly, the pain from inside him spilling out onto me. "But be that as it may, there is a bond between Cora and me that we cannot deny. I do not believe such a bond exists between us anymore, Eleanor."
She's your Beloved, Alec. Stop fighting it.
Do you dislike me so much that you are so happy to be rid of me? he asked.
Tell him! my little devil demanded. He's hurting because he thinks you don't want him.
I tried to argue that I didn't want him, but even I didn't believe that anymore.
It just figured that the one man in the world I wanted was the one I should never have. Way to go, life.
"How does Kristoff know?" I asked the room in general, trying to drown out my conscience. "How did you know about Eleanor?"
"It was his wife who killed my Beloved," Alec answered, his eyes a pale jade. "His first wife."
My eyes widened as I stared at Kristoff. "Your wife was the one with the oxcart? The one who cut off my head? "
The second the words left my mouth, I cursed myself. My devil cheered.
"Your head?"
Slowly, I turned to look at Alec.
Your head? he asked again.
Um . . .
"What do you mean, your head?" Pia asked, leaning into Kristoff when he sat next to her.
"Yes!" Eleanor said, leaping to her feet, her face red with anger. "What exactly do you mean, your head? It was my head that was cut off, not yours! You're trying to steal him, aren't you?"
Cora?
"You're trying to steal Alec from me!"
Alec's pain lashed him so hard, I crumpled into a little ball, hugging my knees, unable to look at him.
"You bitch! She's using you, Alec, nothing more. She had some sort of a vision about the day I was killed - she said so herself - and now she's trying to use that to confuse you. I'm your Beloved, not her. I don't care what Kristoff says - it's me who has the bond with you."
"Corazon? " The word was spoken softly, with a world of warmth behind it. Alec knelt next to me, his hand lightly touching my head as I rubbed my cheek against my knees, torn with the need to tell him the truth, and the knowledge of what such an action would mean to us both. And to Eleanor. Could I do that to an innocent woman?
That innocent woman is you! my inner self yelled. She is a past version of yourself!
"Do you remember that I told you I'd seen a vision of the time when I . . . when your Beloved was killed?" I asked, unable to bear Alec's pain any longer.
"Of Kristoff's first wife killing my Beloved? Yes."
I lifted my head to look at him, needing his warmth, needing his strength. His eyes searched my face, and I could feel him gently prodding my mind. I kept him out of my head, unwilling to say what needed to be said, but having enough pride to do it the honorable way, rather than just letting him pick the facts out of my brain.
"Well, it wasn't really a vision. It was a . . ." I swallowed, casting a nervous glance at the others. "It was more of a past-life regression."
"A past-life regression," he repeated, looking confused.
"Yes. I was the woman whose head was lopped off by the crazy lady with the oxcart. Oh, sorry, Kristoff. I didn't mean she was nutso crazy, just a little . . . well . . ."
"No!" Eleanor shrieked, leaping to her feet. "She lies!"
"Oh, my god, you really are Alec's Beloved," Pia said, obviously astonished. "You're . . . what? Reborn? How can that be? And how could we have raised Eleanor if you're here now? Kristoff ?"