Excerpt of The Transformation of Anna by Charlene A. Wilson

Cole unstopped the slender vial and gently lifted Anna’s head
to administer the potion. As he carefully tipped the container
to her lips, tremors traveled down his forearms. His hands
quaked. The amber liquid jumped to the brim and he quickly
tilted it upright. Gods, Cole, control yourself. She needs
every drop.

A soft palm rested on his wrist and Cole’s gaze shot to
Elaina’s. When had she returned and how did he not pick up on
the strong compassion emitting from her when she had? Her blue
eyes looked deep into his, understanding with a touch of
sadness. “Let me do that, Cole. You’ve been through enough.”

He wasn’t sure if the tremors were from anticipating a
fortunate outcome or from sheer anxiety over the whole ordeal,
but he accepted her tender attention as a blessing. Vincent’s
intervention with her was evident. He watched as she patiently
poured small measures into Anna’s mouth.

Elaina turned to Cole and lifted the emptied container. “Well,
that’s it. She got it all.”

He sighed. “Thank you.”

“Anything, Cole.” She smiled and set the vial on the bed stand.
“What about you? Can I get you a drink? It might calm you
some.”

Nodding, he offered a small smile.

“Good, then. I’ll be right back.”

As she closed the door behind her, Cole eased himself onto the
bed. “Don’t give up, Anna.” His faint words were swallowed by
the silence of the room. “I’ll fix this and see to it nothing
ever happens to you again.” Brushing his fingertips over her
hair, he solemnly whispered a plea. “Don’t leave me.”

Her soft locks sent countless memories rushing through his mind
—her smile, cheeky comments, blue eyes dancing as if life
itself was a game. Her Arylinite spirit embraced every moment
of love, able to see beneath façades that others deemed as
truth. He sighed, knowing that side of her may have been unique
to that lifetime—a result of her specialized upbringing in the
Arylin colony of the northern territory.

He tilted his head and gazed over her still face. Her features
were remarkably similar to Mianna’s. The gentle slope of her
nose, the way she chose to wear her dark hair long, and he
couldn’t deny her blue eyes when she’d looked at him. He cupped
her cheek with his hand, gently stroking her lips with his
thumb. They curved from a bow-tie center into a natural smile.
So soft. Inviting.

He leaned to her and lightly kissed them, then leaned his cheek
to hers.
“Talk to me, Anna.” His breath was a plea. As much as he knew
no answer would come, his heart called to her with his deepest
wish.

He brushed his fingers down her neck to her chest, tenderly
caressing her pale skin at the neckline of her gown. A strained
pause caught his throat as he lightly followed her breast to
her ribcage. “What’s in your heart?”

The tiny circles he drew on the thin fabric fed his longing for
her touch. Supple creases followed his motion. To have her arms
around him, the love they brought, had given him unmitigated
comfort in a past life. It could be so again.
“My life was yours.” He kissed the circles he created. “Every
moment, I found joy in you.”

He looked at her closed eyes. “Please, don’t leave me. Please
promise you’ll be mine again.”

No emotion showed upon the visage of his love, but distant
echoes of vows lighted his soul.

“Open to me.” He wondered if his whispered thought could
possibly reach her unconscious mind. “Speak to me with your
soul.”

Her lips parted and a chill flew through him. He waited,
listened intently. Weak sensations touched his senses. “Anna,”
he said aloud, hope rising. He cupped his palm to her cheek
again. “Fight for it. Call to me.”

Anna remained silent.

Cole’s heart ached. Yet, that small reaction spurred his
resolve. He framed her face as he lowered to take her lips with
his. “I’ll help you.”

The scent of licorice and cream fell from his lips as he called
on his Breath of Zephyr. His soul’s voice owned his words. “My
life is a mirage of endless time. But you engulf me, rivet my
mind, encompass my soul.”

She inhaled his sensual gift and gasped for deeper intake.

Yes. Hope impossibly filled him. His muscles tightened with
expectation. His heart pounded against his chest. “Call to me!”