Arabella's and Hardin's story continues....
After almost three years of blissful marriage, and reigning as King and Queen, our star crossed lovers can't find a single fault in their perfection of a life.
Then, it gets even better with a special deli...
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"What have you done?" Arabella breathed out the moment she stepped foot into our room.
She was breathtakingly beautiful as usual. Her body was poised to perfection, she presented herself gracefully with her hands splayed on her hips, and her cheeks were flushed a subtle red, marking her prominent anger.
I didn't flinch as she stormed towards me, I didn't cry out as her half collided with my cheek, marking me with her harsh palm. My head cracked to the side, pain blistered down my face and slowly I turned back to face her.
The physical pain was nothing compared to the utter torture I felt under the guise stare. Her pained, guilty stare that pierced my soul, reaching the inner tendrils of my buried heart.
A tear rolled down her cheek, falling to the floor in a dramatic fashion. She didn't bother to wipe it, no...she let it fall, she let it torture me.
"I'm sorry." I murmured, and her finger was quickly thrusted into my face, pointing straight at me.
"Don't." She seethed, her shook side to side. "Don't you dare make an excuse, don't..." She broke.
A sob was wrenched out of her throat and she stumbled forwards, collapsing into my arms. I swooped her up in one swift move, and carried her to the bed. I knew she wanted space from me, even though she was too pained to move right now, so I set her down and then stepped back.
I didn't stop until my back hit the drawers and then I froze, watching my wife with a calculated stare.
"They told me not to be angry, they told to savour last moments together. They're acting as though you're dead," A grim smile flashed on her face. "There's no hope, nobody hope of you coming back alive. How is that meant reassure me about anything?"
I sighed, shaking my head whilst I cursed those two idiots for offering up such stupid advice. Although I knew Xander and Wyatt had the best intentions in mind, they had severely fucked up any promise of a peaceful departure.
Crossing the room, I offered my girl my hand, and smiled as she finally took it. I pulled her up, fighting to ignore the way my cock jumped as her nipples brushed against my chest. My fingers gently caressed her jaw, tilting her chin up, so I could I fall in love with her ocean eyes all over again.
"Nobody knows what will happen. Nobody knows if I'll die or not, I'll leave that up to the fates."
"But still, you're increasing your chance death. You're going somewhere, where death is no stranger. You could die at anytime, I recognise that but if you die on a battlefield, it would be like you wanting to die. It would be you purposely killing yourself."
"Are you saying I'm not a good fighter baby?" I mused, the tilt of a smile fresh on my lips. She huffed, unamused.
"This is serious. This is the last day, we'll spend together in god knows how long. It could be the last day ever."
