Warning: sexual content
"Again!"
Emmett stood from his braced position, loose earth, twigs and leaves pooled around his feet. His face was set into a hard mask, no mercy to be found and such a look on him was wrong. He was the eternal jokester of his family, as Nora had witnessed for herself, but it was good to know they were taking her sister's safety seriously.
There was nothing humorous about the megalomaniac redhead who wanted to display Bella's head on a spike.
The clearing the Cullens had taken them to was an open space with masses of soil, surrounded by a thick legion of trees that made the scene secluded and private. There were some fallen lumbering furrs and elms, scattered branches from their collision with the ground, smatterings of wooden debris.
Nora had been informed by Carlisle at her obvious bewilderment with the scene that Emmett and Jasper used it to brawl with one another as they were doing now. The chaos made a lot of sense, in retrospect.
Watching the ongoing fight between them from her sitting position on one of those fallen trees, a mesmerized Bella at her side, Nora too was ensnared by the sight before them. She'd never seen vampires fight. She'd seen the unpretty aftermath of tattered limbs and pools of venom, but never had she witnessed two immortals duel.
Their movements were too fast, too accurate for her human eyes to keep up with. What she could see was scary. A puny word and one that was sure to lose all meaning when she would get to witness the Volturi fight, but yes. It was scary. The aggression, the snarling and the bating, the sounds when they clashed into one another–like two rolling boulders smashing head on.
In the face of such superhuman abilities, Nora felt her mortality. She felt weak.
Emmett rushed at Jasper and the Major spread his arms in invitation with a smile on his face. It all looked so natural to him, but then again why wouldn't it? Before the two had chosen each other to spar, he'd given the newcomers a little taster of the first years of his supernatural rebirth. Used as a pawn in territory games. It was sad, to say the least, about enduring that much emotional damage in the newness of his newborn life; it had sounded horrific, that fights such as this had once upon a time been his norm.
Now, among family and doing this all of his own free will, he was a predator. A predator in his element.
All of this possible death, all of this destruction...it had made her more reminiscent, cautious–because anything could happen in the coming days.
She turned a little on the log, rough bark digging into the apex of her thighs, to quickly scan Bella who was immersed in the show of power. She took a deep breath, aware all three of her mates could see and hear the nerves suddenly assaulting her. Aro's hand twitched, she could see it, but he didn't touch her.
"Hey, um...Bells?"
Her sister nodded offhandedly, still taken in by the sight of the combat with the same attention she only showed to things like Gossip Girl.
Nora smiled lightly, but still her voice was quiet and warbling, "Have you spoken to Renée recently?"
She wasn't 'mom.' Not to Nora. She hadn't done enough for her or Bella in their short lives, in Nora's books, to earn the affectionate title.
Bella was still absorbed, so initially her reply was a distracted, "Yeah."
And then it dawned on her, exactly what her sister was asking and she stuttered in surprise, twisting uncomfortably along the elm to see her, face–to–face. Because Renée and Nora had never had a good relationship–and Nora never asked after her. Just like their mother never asked after Nora.
"Um," She regrouped, feeling the added pressure on her as the kings volleyed their attention between them, innately curious.
Aro knew, to some extent, how Renée and Nora felt about each other. But Nora's thoughts over her never ran deep. She never allowed herself to think of the woman who didn't love her like she should.
It couldn't be stopped, the way all three leaned closer though they didn't even need to, and Bella tried her best to ignore them, playing off her awkwardness as just the...normal amount she felt every day. Nora was patient, and Bella appreciated that as she racked her mind for the right words. "I spoke to her last night."
"Oh...good. How is she?" The question was formal, hollow, a slight note of disappointment. Nora didn't know why she wanted her mothers affection after going her whole life without it, why she cared if she bothered to ask about her...and yet it still stung when she didn't. It probably always would.
"Still settled down in Jacksonville. Phil's on the road a lot so, she's pretty lonely. Actually..." Bella scratched her head awkwardly, "I'm supposed to be going and seeing her in a couple days. After the battle. Carlisle and Esme gave me the tickets for my birthday, I just...never got around to using them."
"Oh..."
Bella winced.
Nora sounded small again. Like she was back to being her child self, back to being critiqued and scolded for her every move. Back to being made to feel like nothing she did would ever be good enough. Back to remembering the sharp disappointment when nothing incited a proud smile, a passing 'I love you' or 'well done, sweetie.' Not even a motherly hug. Nothing. Renée, to Nora, was the embodiment of stone cold.
Bella had always guessed that Nora was the subject of their mothers harbored resentment because she reminded her so much of herself. She reminded their childish mother of the youth she was quickly losing, of the spirit she used to have–and she couldn't stand to see it in someone who looked so much like her. In someone who encapsulated all of her regrets.
It had always been different, with Renée and herself, and Bella had no idea why. Maybe it was because she never talked back like Nora did, never scolded their mother–and while both sisters had to look after her, Nora was almost a mirror for Renée. In her sternness, she changed the tables: a child the parent, parent the child. It was how it had always been. And she, their immature guardian who should have never had children to begin with, couldn't stand to see herself that way.
So she'd always shunned Nora. Kept her at arms lengths, because if she wasn't close then Renée couldn't see her failures. Couldn't see what she could have been in her daughter as she lived the life Renée couldn't by choosing to be a young mother where Nora, instead, persued her dreams.
"That will be nice, then." Bella refocused on her older sister as she became the diplomat. The peace keeper. And her heart nearly broke for her sibling who had never done anything wrong, then, as she said, "Will you tell her I'm thinking of her?"
She who'd endured so much recently, she who had every reason to want nothing to do with their mother who hadn't even cared or knew of the worst that had happened to her eldest...and yet Nora still said something like that. Still, deep down, worried for a woman who only wrongfully despised her for the things she had no control over or need to change.
"I will..." Bella whispered, and Nora smiled. A prim, proper one to disguise the pain. Bella felt a spark of rage go through her on her behalf, and she put her hand on Nora's shoulder, "I'm sorry she treats you so badly, Nora. I'm sorry she doesn't care. I'm sorry you had to grow up so fast, to look after us both. I'm...sorry."
Bella didn't need to apologize for their childhood. It wasn't her fault–and in some aspects, she'd been forced to follow in Nora's footsteps though she had tried to prevent that from happening for her little sister. Bella wasn't the one who needed to revel in regret of that past, who needed to refute it with apologies, but...thank god someone had acknowledged the childhood Nora had missed.
"Thank you." Nora whispered back, her smile stretching to be more genuine. To be the warm one that had always brought Bella comfort.
The shared emotional trauma ebbed away, thawed by that familiar look.
And then the moment was ruined.
There it was again as she and Bella lost themselves in talk of their neglective mother, the thunderous sound of crashing stone.
Nora jumped when Jasper threw Emmett, meeting him at his landing point to deliver a powerful punch to his throat that had the muscled brute concaving into the ground, a gargled yell swallowed by the booming noise. She gripped Bella's arm who was just as fearfully engaged with it, only coming to from her thrall when a hand fell to become a sturdy buoy from her scared infatuation on her shoulder.
"Be calm, my love. I hear your heart racing." It was Marcus, his voice as calming as a trickling stream in a tranquil woods. She leant back into his hand, her attention distracted from the battle as he placed his other on her bicep, rubbing it up and down. She put her full weight back into him, her shoulders pressed into his lower stomach. "Fear not for either of them, sweet Nora. They are coming to no harm. It takes more than this to genuinely hurt one another, I assure you. They are simply play fighting at best."
"That's play fighting?" Nora watched Emmett finally land a hit on Jasper, a kick that sent the empath somersaulting back into a thick tree trunk that splintered at his impact, the man falling, sprawled on the ground and covered in spliced timber. Jesus. "What the hell does real fighting look like then?"
"Ha, well," Caius's little exclamation made her assess him over her shoulder, his red eyes meeting hers straightaway, proof he'd already been watching her. He was revved up and ready to go as he shifted from foot to foot–an adrenaline junkie moments away from his next life threatening endeavor. "It's far more gruesome sweetheart, but don't worry. You'll get to see what real power and real skill is when our coven has their turn."
Did she want to see it? He was making her think that no, she didn't. She really, really didn't.
"Though, we might have to take care to hold back. Their type are notoriously more fragile." He added, and she knew him. From his tone it really wasn't a taunt. Merely an insightful afterthought but ever the aggravator, he had managed to wind their company up anyway. It was truly a fucking gift.
"Don't sound so confident." Someone hissed, drawing Nora and everyone's attention.
The Cullens stood about two meters away to their left, Jane and Felix in between them and the Volturi leaders as a barrier. The two guards had been playing nice with one another on Nora's orders, speculating and murmuring between themselves over the current fight; at the verbal onslaught they had stood straight, tensely expecting more from the Cullens, ready to step in should it turn physical.
It had been the blonde lady. The goddess of hate. Rosalie. The only one of the twitchy family brave enough to venture a comment so antagonizing. Jasper and Emmett still fought in the background, oblivious of the brewing verbal fight–submerged in combat.
The blonde bared her perfect white teeth at Caius, disgust stretching and warping her prettiness. Bygones between these two was something of a pipedream and Nora's mind fell back to the past with the image of Caius, all smiles and glee like a kid in a candy store as he ripped Rosalie's arm off at the elbow and played hacky sack with her fingers.
Yeah, her hate was a tad understandable.
"I encourage you to give us your best. Don't hold back because you think we're weaklings. I guarantee you, your highness, we can take it." She sassed, flipping her intricately braided hair over her shoulder while shrugging Esme's hand from her arm, the polite and motherly brunette attempting to calm things down.
She had failed and she stepped back into Carlisle's arms who was heartlessly playing the role of the father he was to Rosalie.
"Rose, that's enough now. Control yourself."
Caius and Rosalie didn't pay attention to Carlisle and neither did Caius move, but he didn't need to. His intimidating presence felt like a separate and terrifying entity all on its own. As he glared at the beautiful woman, Nora felt it. It...stretched and shadowed Rosalie, the catty blonde bitch just managing to hide a gulp.
Aro had said to her once, in the early days of their meeting to explain his brother's foul and nasty behavior that he assumed she would have noticed, that while Caius may not have a gift in the conventional sense, his ability to hate and his ability to instill fear with a single look? They were both on the same page that his terror–striking presence was his talent, and here was the proof.
Rosalie clamped her mouth shut and didn't utter a single syllable. She lowered her head in submission, knowing she was bested. She said not a word and it fell to Carlisle to right her wrong.
"Forgive her, Master Caius. Rosalie did not mean to offend."
Nora and Rosalie, at the same time, looked at him incredulously–one with less heat, but the message in those looks was the same: she had meant it and then some.
This alliance, shaky as it may be, needed to last until the newborns had been eradicated. Her virulence would need to be unfortunately looked over. So, when Caius just stared like an unforgiving manifestation from Rosalie's nightmares, if she had the ability to dream, and when neither a contemptful Aro or a bored Marcus tried to dispel the tension Nora sighed. Looked like it was up to her.
Observant of their response, Nora excused, with hidden displeasure, their little spat, "It's okay, Carlisle. I understand Rosalie's underlying anger, even if your Kings don't."
Rosalie as well as the entire family seemed surprised and grateful. Nora carried on before they would get the wrong idea that such little comments were acceptable. "However, you all have remember to take care how you speak. I'm a lenient woman, it's true. But there is only so much I can do to withhold Caius from acting on his less than favorable and rather...violent urges. I'm sure we'd all feel better avoiding that."
Seeing her message hitting home as the Cullens shivered in fright at the mere thought of her mates capabilities, Nora drove in the final, harsh nail. "Next time you feel the need to display your aversion to us so strongly, I hope you'll all remember that often it's best to keep such vulgar opinions to ourselves. Yes?"
She may not have been a vampire, but Nora was destined for the Kings for a reason and she seemed to contain small traits from all of them. Like Caius, naturally when she was riled up she exuded a rather intimidating aura. Like Aro she was intelligent with her words, deceptively pleasant while her mind was strategizing and like Marcus, she kept her face blank so no one would know what she was feeling, all her aces kept secret.
When she was made immortal she would be sensational.
Appropriately terrified of the mortal and remembering the power she wielded over his Kings, Carlisle assumed being the spokesperson for his family again while Rosalie's head dropped back down. "We understand. Thank you for your kindness, my Queen."
She nodded and turned away from them, showing how little they meant to her. All of her coven members were exuding pride and Bella...well, Bella just looked flabbergasted.
"That was..." Bella trailed off, looking from her humored older sister to the chastised Cullen clan who were avoiding looking in their direction in apprehensive terror of another scolding. Christ, when did her sister become so powerful?
"That was fucking amazing." She said lamely, a crooked grin pulling at her lips when Nora laughed, a silent one that shook her body.
Their moment was interrupted when Aro drifted closer to Nora, delicately laying a hand under her jaw to turn her head up to look at him. Though she frowned at the intrusion, he was smiling.
Not in the creepy way that made Bella want to stab pins in her eyes to be blind to its mania. No. He just looked happy. Happy and as sappy as it sounded, in love.
Bella had never seen such a devoted look before and jealousy festered in her chest. A harsh ache that sought to drown her in grief. She was unimaginably happy for her sister but watching her with the three men made Bella feel hollow and lost, because Edward had never looked at her in any way like it. He was dead. Gone for good and yet, despite what he'd done to her, she missed him. Or...was it simply being in a relationship she missed?
All she knew and a thing she always realized when confronted with the love between her sister and her mates, like she was right now, was that her 'great love' had been nothing more than a lie.
Nora's was real. The realest she'd seen in her short lifetime. It was true and it was even more intense than Jasper and Alice's.
Nora let her eyes do all the talking for Aro and in her thoughts, he could hear she was still hurt. Though he had an inkling it wouldn't fix things, there was something he could do for them both to assure faith until they were alone and he could pathetically seek her kindness.
Ignoring the Cullens, ignoring his brothers and ignoring an awkward and uncomfortable Bella who had no idea where to place her gaze, he bowed his body to catch Nora's parted lips in an intense kiss. It was without warning, only based on the split decision and passing thought in her mind that she wanted it too.
They didn't let it get too heated, aware they were surrounded by a large number of people, but that was what made it difficult for Aro to release her, his hand on her jaw lighty twisting to grip it so she couldn't over hastily pull away and...how much he needed her after only experiencing half a day of the silent treatment would have scared him. It should have, that one woman had such control over him–a vampire king, an affectless creature of ruination and tragedy, but it was a testament to Nora.
He couldn't get enough. If she demanded it of him, he'd forever grovel. He'd worship her like she deserved.
Her fingers wrapping around his wrist was what made him self–aware again, the warm digits pulling at his hand. He released her, both from the kiss and from his hold, but he didn't move away as she caught her breath. It was as if they were magnets pulling to be joined and Nora would have been hurt if he had broken such an intimate moment.
Really, they could have been around a hundred people or one and he still wouldn't have cared about any of them. Her eyes...those doe eyes that were as complicated as the churning waves of a stormy sea had him stuck and he pulled his hand from her grasp only to take hers in his, and there it was at his prolonged contact. That calming river of thoughts.
He had been wrong when comparing himself to a simple junkie. He wasn't just an addict for her...he was obsessed.
"Mi dispiace, Nora." He took a shot with the Italian, hoping for a slight moment of privacy around the Cullens who weren't uncultured. They understood him. They were smart enough, though, to keep their eyes averted unlike Bella who was...enamored by the sight of true love.
Nora did understand him and the underhanded anger that had been milling up all day and that was darkening her gaze into a glare dwindled, affection brightening it again. She felt Bella looking at her, waiting to see how she'd react and she could just feel Marcus waiting too. If she forgave Aro or not directly affected if she forgave him.
Caius had already semi earned it with their little rendezvous in the woods.
Aro heard her decision before she spoke it aloud. In each way, he felt tons of emotional distress lifted from both of them.
"You're forgiven." She was teasing him, the large smirk on her face was so beautiful to see when all they'd been getting from her were either glares or snide commentary. She peered up at Caius who'd sort of already been given her mercy, Marcus she couldn't see thanks to his unmoving place behind her, but she addressed him anyway. "I suppose you two are as well or I'll never hear the end of it tonight. You do know how to whine."
Caius chuckled and reached out to flick her on the forehead, his quiet laughter growing more vivid at her pout and lamented 'ow' as she lifted a hand to rub the slightly red spot. Aro took over, the cool of his skin relieving it straight away.
"Very gracious of you, sweetheart. You have my humblest of thanks."
"Prick."
She was preparing to retort further when a sudden ear splitting yell all but shook the fur trees around them. She whipped back around when Aro retreated, Bella clasping on to her arm for dear life with her body pushed as far into Nora's side as she could.
Emmett was charging like a riled up bull at Jasper. His many losses had beset his emotions into overdrive and where he had been sternly determined to win, now he looked crazed for it. Jasper's pleased grin spoke volumes. This was what he'd been trying to achieve all along and in an odd move he flipped backwards and skidded upon his landing, causing a spray of dark dirt–a cloud that spread and hit all in the immediate vicinity.
It missed Bella, Nora and the Kings who were intently watching again at the sudden twist of events, but the Cullens got the brunt of it. Rosalie yelled, the sound as unpleasant and gnarly as two cats preparing to fight; the petite woman next to her was equally as loud.
"Jasper!" Alice was livid, her pretty and neat white clothes soiled by the swarm of dirt and moss.
The vampire had stunned Emmett who was trying to clear the dirt from his eyes and seeing he had time, Jasper abandoned his fight with him to attend his wife. He flitted over to Alice and pecked her on the lips with a mumbled, "My apologies, ma'am," that really made his southern accent shine.
Nora awwe'd in her head. They were so cute it was bordering on sickening.
In the next fraction of a second Jasper returned to the altercation and had lofted himself at Emmett, sweeping the distracted brute's feet from under him. Dropping into a crouch he flipped him onto his stomach and pinned him to the ground with a knee on his back.
"Dead." He declared as he mimed the act of twisting the punitive man's head from his shoulders. The golden eyes of his furious brother seared into him as Emmett turned his head to the best of his ability.
Jasper let him go and Emmett, enraged at his sixth loss in a row, stormed over to Rosalie for comfort and the way she immediately coddled the six foot tall man child had Nora in silent stitches. He'd run to her like a crying kid hurrying to their mother over a scraped knee.
"Impressive, Major Whitlock." Marcus complimented from behind Nora, his hands still placed on her shoulders, back to the soothing caresses. Truthfully, it was a powerful display. For an animal drinker, anyway. It wouldn't cost him anything to be...kind. "I can see why you have such a highly revered reputation."
Caius said nothing. He didn't need to. Silence was worse from him if you were seeking approval and clearly, he was not impressed.
"Indeed." Aro agreed with Marcus, but his smile when he shed his thick black coat and jumped over the desiccating tree to approach the suddenly stiff man was lacking in friendliness. "But shall we see how you fare against me, young one? I feel a warning is in order. It will not be so easy. There is much in your fighting style left to be corrected."
Rolling the sleeves of his tight fitting, long sleeve shirt to his elbows to expose his muscled forearms, his smile converted into an imperious grin. "Are you up for the challenge?"
Everyone had gone stock still. The vampires. The humans. They were all of the same apprehensive mind that this was going to be a show to remember. They remained so as Jasper non–verbally accepted Aro's challenge with a singular jerk of his chin downwards, back in his fighting mindset. They circled one another, taking each other in before either acted.
This was what the day had been building up to and Nora knew her kings had been playing pretend by letting the two veggie vamps warm up the crowd. That really was play fighting–what she was about to witness would surely leave her shaken for days to come.
If she had been nervous before, it felt like she would vomit as she lifted a hand in desperation, clinging to Marcus's. She had faith in Aro, more than even that, but seeing him about to fight someone–with vampire fights being as vicious as she had just seen–left a bitter taste in her mouth.
And then, as if someone had blown a whistle unable to be heard by her they began. They ran at each other in a blur of nauseating speed; she saw a flash of raven feign to the left, Jasper missing his aimed swing by a long mile.
Neither let it stop them or slow them down and quick as a cat, Jasper righted himself and they were rushing again with immense speed, Jasper viciously targeting blow after blow while Aro danced around him and worked on diminishing his stamina. Where Jasper was growingly being dictated by his frustration, Nora knew that calculated little grin on Aro's face.
An empath. It dawned on her. That's what Jasper was. His almost psychotic frustration now made sense, for she was sure Aro was using the man's gift to his advantage and kept the same sarcastic smirk on his face while feeling only assured that he was going to win, only hurtling his opposition's irritation into full on resentment. He was too cocky for his own good. Why not use it to his advantage in this?
It was working, his emotional warfare and in frustration Jasper lurched for him with Aro copying his move. This time they leapt into the air. The sound of their collision...Nora would never be able to banish it from ringing in her ears. A true explosion of noise. It was like the thunderstorm to end all thunderstorms and when they fell to the ground, Nora was left for a moment in suspended terror, craning her head in search of her vivacious mind reader in fear that Aro was hurt.
She needn't have let herself get so afraid. Jasper who had held the upper hand with Emmett had finally yielded his winning streak.
Aro had him restrained, pinned to the dirt, his arms behind his back and a knee dug into it like Jasper had done Emmetts. The only difference was Aro was applying enough pressure to the awkwardly pretzeled limbs that Nora could hear them starting to crack and peel away from his body. Jasper was fighting, struggling and he looked beaten and battered. Defeated.
Aro had Jasper's face shoved into the dirt and his ease at holding the younger vampire in place while looking so entirely unscathed was...hot. Point blank. She wasn't ashamed to admit that.
He fisted a hand in the boy's honeyed hair and slammed his head into the ground. Alice, poor Alice. She screeched like Jasper's pain was her own.
Nora could tell Aro had held back and she was sure that had he used his full strength, most of Jasper's head would be gone. That would've really given the pixie something to cry about.
"Dead." He announced, parodying the empaths words from earlier, right down to his self–conceit. Leaning down so the boy could hear him, he was sweet as apple pie. "Would you like to try again, Major?"
And huffily embarrassed at the loss, he did.
They had many more battles. In the next one, Aro had won within thirteen seconds. In the end it had been a swooping kick to Jasper's head right as he was standing from another of Aro's attacks that would have been his demise...it would have taken it clean off.
Then it had been Aro's hands gripping fiercely to Jasper's head–enough force to crush it like a watermelon–as he stood behind his crouched form, a result of Jaspers leg hanging on by a thread trying to mend itself, leaving him open and vulnerable, kneeling on the ground.
Aro fought with precise and thought out moves, using the instances where he got to touch his opponents to study their strategies and manipulated that to bring them quickly powerless under his control. With Emmett, he used his brute strength against him and used his own speed to confuse him. Emmett's swings were lumbering and clumsy thanks to his muscles and Aro was swift, dodging and diving and striking while Emmett hadn't even recovered from delivering his moves.
With Rosalie, he used her aggression and riled her up to the point she was incensed like a feral wild cat at his taunting words. Her moves were anything but thought out and she clearly was just aiming to wildly hurt him. That had been her mistake.
Every match, he won them all. It was the same for Caius and Marcus.
Caius. Now, he was...petrifyingly forceful and in this instant, in front of her, she saw him for his titles. For his reputation. For his notoriety.
He played with his opponents. A jaguar toying with a poor, doomed gazelle. Knowing he could incapacitate them, but he wanted all of their fear first. It looked like he was gaining power...like their terror was his drug.
In each fight whether it was with Jasper, Alice or Carlisle he was in full control–even with Alice's abilities, he was still the victor. His thoughts and decisions were clearly too sporadic, too changing and complicated for the seer to find a true foothold in the future and when he had truly got going, there wasn't even a moment for his challenger to gain momentum or think of a counterattack. He would be on them again. Relentless, he would strike and strike and then strike the debilitating blow. An angry serpent going in for the kill.
By the end any who had fought against him suffered major, major injuries. Carlisle was missing a few fingers, a favorite move of Caius's. Alice looked like nearly headless Nick from Harry Potter and Rosalie....unfortunate, overconfident, dumb little Rosalie. Out of redemption Nora surmised, he had once more stolen a limb or two from the traumatized lady and Nora was a little humored watching the woman having to mend herself back together like Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas.
That left her gentle giant. Her sweet Marcus...only now he was anything but demure and polite. He was brutal. Ruthless. More so than Caius and Aro combined and it wasn't because he was vicious. No. It was because he wasn't trying.
It was all coming naturally, the finesse he wielded and of them all, his fights were done in mere seconds. No playing. No games. Marcus was there to do a job and he fucking did it.
There was just such...raw power behind each swing, punch and kick and he of all left his opponents debilitated to the point where Nora feared they weren't going to heal. It was a different kind of strength from Emmetts, no clumsiness apparent. Every shove and push and pull and kick–calculated beyond her wildest imaginings. There were no limbs lost, no deaths, but the cracks spider webbing over Emmetts skin that looked as if they might make him crumble into shards? It was worse than if he had.
It was undisputed as she watched. Vampires who consumed human blood, who embraced their nature and accepted themselves for what they really are and were meant to be, they were just...better. Stronger. Faster. More agile and adept and born for it. Superior. It sounded absurd and biased but it was anything other than that. It was simply the truth. The Cullens, without her coven's help, would have been obliterated by the newborns.
The sun set over the tops of the tree's and as the final taster to showcase the Volturi's power, her mates had Jane and Felix go head to head. Of course, Jane won. Over and over and over again and poor Felix looked utterly, utterly traumatized. Much to his displeasure, Nora had been on her feet to the amusement of them all and cheered Jane along like a cheerleader each time she won. Equivalent in her pride of the little girl to a mother in the stands of a football game watching her kids team winning.
She had thought that was it. They were done. But vampires had an abundance of time they didn't keep check of, and where the poor humans were tired, Caius, unfortunately, was not.
He stepped back into the makeshift ring, a single finger pointing at Rosalie. He smirked, crooking it. "I'm disappointed, spitfire. Surely that's not all you have?" He lost his smirk when she hissed and advanced, and they stayed across from one another, moving in a trepid circle, the king adding the final goad that started a whole new round of fights. "Come along, you weak little girl. Why don't you show me the power you boast to possess?"
She launched, he laughed, and Nora and Bella plopped back down on the tree after stretching and preparing to leave.
Bella whined, her hands over her ears, and huffed, "Sometimes I really hate vampires."
As Caius cackled and Rosalie screeched and the thunderous death tune of their fighting like scrappy cats continued...silently, Nora realized she agreed.
It went on...and on and on and on.
For once, being a human surrounded by vampires was a miracle. Because humans needed sleep, and that had been her eventual get out clause.
It was hours later, and a peaceful night had fallen in Seattle. It was late and a time Nora should be resting.
She wasn't.
She was exhausted, overstimulated from the day's events and, unhurriedly munching on her snack, she was in a debate to end all debates.
A very important one. Life or death.
"I mean not to disappoint you, my love, but no."
This had been the fifth time she'd been told no.
Nora was a mix of frustration, delirium and amusement. In short, she was a little on the frenzied side and her voice was slurred. "Ah, come on, dude. Cut me some slack or we'll be here all night. You've not watched, say...oh, Hellraiser! The utterly disgusting masterpiece by Clive Barker with the cenobites as the villains?"
"No, love."
"But you must love gore!" She argued, the receiver a perpetually amused Marcus."You like, literally murder people for a living."
"Exactly. So why would I need to watch movies about something I do in real life?"
Nora picked through her excessively large bowl of popcorn, flicking the burnt jiffy pop to the floor and pouting, she delivered a purposeful but muttered jab of sardonicism, "I don't know, because it would make you interesting?"
"Do not be rude, Elenora. We cannot all hold the same interests." He grumbled out a scold at her, his apparent lack of intrigue and charisma in her eyes stinging to his pride, but Nora's boundless energy corrected her from her pettiness and placed her back on track of the tangent he had started and was thoroughly regretting.
"You've not even seen Evil dead? Nightmare On Elm Street? Oh, Basket Case! The killer, Belial, is this freakily terrifying stupid little nugget thing that shreds people up like salami. You'd enjoy it if you gave it a chance."
It occurred to her that Belial and Carlisle sounded eerily similar, but she didn't get a chance to dwell on that or piss herself laughing at the images in her head.
"No, no and certainly not." Marcus replied and earnestly tried to keep in his disinterest, deft fingers twisting and twirling and creating an intricate fishtail plait through one side of her parted hair.
Nora was situated between his parted thighs on the floor, her back against the couch and her legs stretched out on the carpet in front of her. She leant her cheek against his knee, still pouting through a mouthful of slightly charred sweet and salty popcorn. "Come on, lighten up! You're just forgetting things and being a crabby bastard because of your old age. You have to have seen one."
He gave her nothing with his sole focus being trained on the beautiful masterpiece he was creating in her hair, so haughtily she rambled and tried again. "Any of the Friday franchise? Like, surely at least the ones that are so shitty they're good like Jason Takes Manhattan or Jason X?" Shoveling a fistful of the buttery, sweet treat in her mouth, her voice was stifled.
"Again, no."
"Fuck. Suspiria?" She spoke around a chew. "That ones pretty weird and it has a killer score by this band called Goblin, I feel like you'd like it. You always appreciate good music."
"Sadly my love I am afraid I have not had the pleasure."
"Well what about Candyman? Or Night Of The Living Dead? Oh, or Pet Sematary? No, I know! The B–movies are probably your preference so...Chopping Mall? Bloody Birthday? Slumber Party Massacre? Blood Rage?"
He ceased her quick and desperate rapidfire that was getting them absolutely nowhere.
"Nora, do you not see where I am going with this my sweet? The answer is no. I cannot even remember the ones I have seen." Marcus said, patient as ever, and finished the first plait, tying it off with a black band Nora had supplied him.
She carried on in spite of her bleak and diminishing optimism. She was determined to find one he'd seen and refused to believe Caius had been right the other day: that they knew nothing of horror movies. As it was turning out, though, he annoyingly had been correct. Marcus's obliviousness with each movie was breaking her heart.
"House of 1000 corpses? You can't tell me you don't appreciate the work of Rob Zombie. That guys a legend."
Marcus shook his head, seen by her through the dead Tv screen. He had yet to change out of his constricting suit–minus the tailored jacket. They hadn't been back long from the training, and Aro and Caius had stayed behind with Felix and Jane to talk battle plans and strategies, Aro suggesting she return to the hotel when her yawns got just a bit too frequent and loud and her eyes drooped to essentially be closed.
Now, however, she was full of energy. After they'd dropped a sleeping Bella off–with Marcus sneaking her in through her ajar window and adorably tucking her into her bed–Nora had made him stop at a gas station to buy her copious amounts of monster energy drinks.
She'd rambled that she'd wanted to spend time with him and they never got to be alone anymore and she wasn't going to ruin that by sleeping. It was so precious he hadn't the heart to deny her even when knowing she should be getting well earned rest...and when knowing his brothers would scold him.
When Nora didn't sleep, she was grouchy, but her plan had worked. She was so hopped up on caffeine and sugar she was bouncing in her seated position, vibrating with enthusiasm. Her pupils had even blown so wide he struggled to see the pretty azure of her irises.
As it was, caffeine apparently made Nora thirst for gore. She had tried to prod Marcus to pick a horror film for them to watch and had been appalled at his lack of knowledge...leading to this little interrogation he was currently stuck in.
Plaiting her hair had been his saving grace from abandoning her energetic ways and locking himself in the bathroom for a breather.
"Well, okay. Stephen King must be more your taste instead so...Carrie, or IT? Or Christine? Killer car, Scary clown and a poor teenage girl with psychic powers and religious trauma. Ringing any bells?"
Head shake.
With a small smile, she asked, "Then, maybe, Vampire movies? 'Cause that would be funny imagining you watching The Lost Boys or Fright Night or Near Dark."
She got at least a little bit of a break when he disclosed, "Well, I have seen Nosferatu and the original Dracula by Universal. But I must admit, love, novels such as Carmilla and Interview With The Vampire fascinate me so much more."
That gave her a second of peace, but it wasn't what she was looking for, because of course he'd read all those old vampire books.
Her desperation was building into dangerous altitudes. "Okay, i–it's okay. I'll find one. Maybe the underrated classics like Sleepaway Camp are your jam. Waiving over the crappy sequels, of course. I'm still pissed about Angela's character assassination."
He hated to disappoint her, but his head shook.
This was getting unbearable.
"The Shining. You have to have seen that o-or read it at least! Stephen King is the fucking Godfather of horror! This is so famous, Marcus." She chided, "With the whole hotel full of ghosts and the classic 'here's Johnny!' line?" She mimed Jack Torrences manic grin and swinging ax.
He gave her nothing but another head shake.
"Not even the Exorcist? The Texas Chainsaw Massacre? The Fly? Child's play? Scream? The Thing? Psycho?"
One last head shake. That did it.
"Shit!" She wailed dismally, all a game, an act, and he loved her for her overtired theatrics.
Plopping the bowl of sweet treats onto the carpet, she held still long enough–with profuse amounts of jittery, shifty movements that assuaged to the fact she was practically going to burst–for him to tie off the final plait before huffing to her knees and turning to be knelt between his legs, sat on her feet, looking up at him as he leant back with his arms spread on the couch cushions.
She didn't even think about how sexual this looked or was for him to see her like it.
"I'm actually wounded by this! It would have been less painful to just stab me!" She fake cried with her hands over her face, pretending to be as upset as the women on her shitty drama shows she so adored. Oh, and how he adored her, biting back a smile as she viciously scowled up at him, "Who are you? I feel like I don't even know you right now."
"Such dramatics, my love. These things happen. So I know nothing of uninteresting movies. I fail to see the big deal?" He shrugged callously, and when she reacted with hot anger to his words, she missed that impish little smirk of his. He knew she'd fall for that.
"What's the big deal?!" She harrumphed, jabbing him in the thigh between each ferocious word of irascible rage, "I love horror films! That's the big fucking deal, Einstein. But, no, of course you can't take interest in anything you...you vapid hunk of ice!"
He snorted, rolling his eyes. It was creative, he'd give her that. But he probably should have just let her get some sleep. Her temper was reaching new points of wickedness.
"Oh, how such loving words warm my dead, hollow soul." He sarcastically crooned, leaning his elbows on his knees so his face was close to hers. So close, in fact, he resisted the urge to kiss her pout away. He appeased her, rubbing a finger under her chin, lifting her head so he could peck her on the tip of her nose, "Don't be so sad, my lovely little beauty. It doesn't do a star like you any justice to dim."
He audibly chuckled, not cruelly or making fun of her, when she went all bleary eyed and numb minded from something so simple. All the energy coursing through her veins, frying her mind into hyperactivity, had left her easily susceptible to his rare charm.
He sighed, smugness seeping away. It wasn't out of frustration or exasperation, it was with adoration instead. She saw it as such when he danced that steadying finger to toil little stray hairs to frame her face, all the while with her watching him do so through growingly lidded eyes.
The soft, delicate affection distracted her easily enough. She was sure that was what he'd been intending, but it had been so long since they were alone. Since she'd been able to remember the unchallenged warmth his touch alone could awaken in her heart. It was easy, with Marcus, to get lost in a sea of contentment and never wish to leave.
"A beauty you are, hm?" Devoutly, he murmured, wayward himself in an Ocean of love, of admiration. Especially when she braced her hands on his knees, pushing herself up to her own so she could ghost her lips against his. A chaste little kiss that was so sweet he found his hands moving on their own, one linking with one of hers on his thigh and the other sneaking to her lower back.
He smiled so damn hard that his famous dimples made an appearance for the first time in days, the stress shed off him like a second skin he was all too happy to discard.
Shy at being so close, as if they hadn't done much worse than this before, she smacked him on the chest with her free hand, mumbling a hushed, incorrigible, "Stop it." Like she couldn't stand him.
"Why?" Spurring the intimacy on, he'd whispered, stroking his thumb on the exposed skin of her back between her underwear and tank top. She sank into him a little more despite feeble protests she'd made to bat away his compliments, his smile now a grin lit with mischief as he ducked his head and nudged his nose against hers, "You don't think so, my love?"
The wind was knocked out of her sails. He was so close. Dumb, is how she felt as she searched through a maze in her mind for any words to say to him. A labyrinth of unintelligible junk. He was too pretty to bear being distracted by thinking.
"I...don't, I..."
"Hmm..." He interrupted her stammering, "I suppose, lovely, I'll just have to show you exactly how gorgeous you are to me."
"Show me how–"
He interrupted again, to her short frustration. This time with an eager kiss, pouring all of his adoration into it so he might transfer it to her. So he might make her see what he did in it.
"You're pretty here." He whispered against those parted lips, lovingly eyeing the way her eyes finally slipped closed when he dragged his mouth to press another kiss to her cheek, "And here...."
"Where else?" She breathlessly teased, heat painting the skin of her face an adoring rouge.
"Here," The buttoned point of her nose, "And here," Her closed lids, the action tickling and drawing a giggle from her, "And of course, here." Her forehead, dotted with a series of pecks that still let her feel his smile, before his own rested back against it, eyes peering down longingly though she couldn't see. "But I do think this spot is my favorite."
And then he circled his devotion right back to her lips.
Her darling little open mouthed gasp gave him the opportunity he sought to slowly caress his tongue against hers that was already seeking the chill of his, relishing in every pretty noise he was pulling from her. A slow creep of a glorious smirk edged with laughter curled over the corner of his lips at the taste of popcorn. She was so cute to him, and when his hand slid over her ass to knead gently at the apex of her thigh, she made the most absolutely endearing noise of shock he couldn't contain himself.
She broke away when he accidentally let out a little scoff of air, a chuckle from his nose, truly looking infuriated with him that he'd just ruined the sweet worship of her that had made her putty in his hands.
"Don't laugh!" She pouted, hitting at him with a jab to his sturdy peck, disentangling their hands that'd been lax on his thigh to try and push fully away from him.
He quieted her sweetly as he cupped her cheeks, holding her between his palms, staring like she was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen, "I'm not, little beauty."
"You are!" She pouted still, averting her eyes and uselessly trying to tug her face from his hold, arms crossed limply over her chest. "It's not my fault I'm sensitive."
"Yes..." His sudden lack of laughter, his sudden contemplative head tilt had her flummoxed. Back to square one. Head empty, no thoughts.
Almost bruisingly, his fingers dug into her cheeks, and then he flicked his tongue over sly lips, an onyx shade creeping over those mischievous eyes as he wondered, "I am curious to see how sensitive you really are, my love."
"What...what do you mean?" She innocently wondered in return, tinged with a hint of nerves, clenching her thighs together under the obscure gaze he loomed over her and the things it made her feel.
"Come here," He all but demanded, letting her go to tap his thighs.
And god, she'd love to plant herself right on that sturdy lap, she just had one little problem...
"Yeah," Tongue in cheek at his puzzled look, she scratched, embarrassed, at the back of her neck, sure her skin was bright fucking pink. "I kinda...can't?"
"What?" He echoed the inflexion of a question, just as baffled as she was presumably making the once simple situation. "Why not?"
Now she fumbled, tongue tied entirely, "I, well...I don't know why this is so difficult, but I..." To lighten the mood, she squinted and pinched two fingers together to nearly touch, "I have just a little bit of a problem."
"You mean your period, my love?" He amended like it meant nothing to him at all, only more confused when she hid her face in her hands.
"Marcus!"
"What?" He shrugged, "Why are you embarrassed about that which is nature?"
"Because," She struggled, gaping at the air, trying to think of why she had a right to be abashed. But she couldn't create one, aware she shouldn't even really be embarrassed.
"As I said. It is natural, dear one." He comforted her when she fell silent, leaning his elbows on his knees once more, hopeful the move would empower her to look at him again. It worked. She blinked those big, pretty eyes at him and he smiled with so much infatuation, "I am a vampire, darling. A creature of darkness that lives off of that which drives you to repulsion. I assure you, I have seen and done far worse then to make love to my beautiful mate when she is experiencing something completely normal. Something that is not even taboo, Nora. In fact, more than anything I desire to do this because I am aware it will help ease your pain. That is all I care about."
"Oh."
Always the logistical one. Always so sweet. How could she have thought it was disgusting to him?
Still, it had comforted her little.
"Do you want to know something?" He inquired, a whisper of the question though there was no one around to hear whatever he had to say that he thought to imperatively keep quiet.
"Yes..."
"If it would make you feel better to know this, then I shall admit it. I would take great pleasure from making you feel good when you think you're at your lowest. Your most 'undesirable'. Because you are so beautiful to me, always." He stressed that word, his admittance easily bringing tears to her eyes. The last straw was when he said so promiscuously, "A little mess over material items I care nothing for? A little blood? If I'm honest, my sweet, it is nothing short of an honor to get to cherish you when you're feeling so vulnerable. And I promise you. It is not going to stop me from taking what I want."
Stunned and suffocating from the magnitude of his passion, she could only utter, "And what is it you want?"
"You." He said simply, leaning back into the couch, arms spread, thighs apart, "And only you. At your best, your worst. At any time, in any situation. You are mine. My beauty and I...I love you, Nora."
Her world, her universe, her galaxy. It all screeched to a startling pause. She felt it in her bones, arresting her in place. The somehow awe inspiring and yet petrifying ballast that was his confession.
Love her...
Oh.
Oh.
"...You..." Her words were stammered, but Nora was frozen. Bound by those declared words. Professed with no hesitation, no regret, no anguish. He loved her...and god, how long had it been since any person she loved had told her that? Had reciprocated it? Had cared about her enough to tell her?
"You love me?"
Still unashamed, confident even though she was evidently having some sort of revelation that he couldn't surmise was either bad or good, he nodded once. "I love you."
She laughed, then. Hands flying to cup over her mouth, a slight tremor to them. As if it had been an instinct she couldn't control. Disbelief, joy, happiness, sorrow. They all mixed together. Orbiting like the Moon does the Earth, none settled or stopped long enough to take them in, in all of their glory. But she loved the rush, the lightheadedness spinning through her mind like a cyclone. The destroying, saving power of love and never been so appreciated.
"I...I love you, too."
He shared in her laughter. Because it was an intimate moment, a brilliant thing. Both people who had suffered so much, who at one point and felt so unloved....and it felt so right they were the first to admit it to each other.
He regained control first, schooling his features, but still warmth and adoration bled through that masked expression.
It was only a low rustling of her hair and a sudden breeze that alerted her to him using his speed. He stood before her, brandishing a towel. "Would this make you more comfortable, my love?"
If she was going to do this, it was better to be at her most content. So she nodded, and he lay it down on the couch before sitting atop of it and regaining his position.
"So, will you allow me to show how much? Let me prove to you the power of your worth." He extended a beckoning hand to break her from her speechless reverie.
And locked in a trance, a hypnotic compulsion under such sweet, lovely, life changing words, she took it and let him guide her to straddle him.
"Marcus..." Silent, was her hesitance. All she said was his name, but he heard the unspoken doubts beneath it.
"You seek to ruin me, Nora. Look at you." He praised her to distract her, holding her face between his palms. A doting disciple staring up at his favored effigy. "No other will ever compare."
Nervous and honestly a little shell shocked by what had just happened, she expelled a giggle so some of the overwhelming feelings he foisted like a heavy stone weight upon her heart might dissipate. They didn't, and she was glad for it. It only meant they were real.
"Stop it."
"Never." He grinned, and she returned it with the same intensity. Because they had forever. He rubbed the tips of their noses together, an adorable gesture that had another laugh erupting from her, happiness overpowering everything else.
He cared for her so much, that even though she had silently agreed to his asks, it wasn't enough. Neither was her admittance of shared love, her delight. None were consent, nor an invitation to do what he wanted. Words were needed. Permission.
"Tell me. Do you wish to go on, Nora?"
"Yes." She nodded weakly. So quick, she hadn't had to think. She could do nothing else but be nearly speechless because of him when he was still using his own charm and allure to entice her into a trance.
He pushed her further with a stern tone, the caring caress of his thumbs over her cheeks a juxtaposition to that, "No. I need you to say it, Elenora. Say what you want from me."
She tried valiantly, this time, to enunciate with the same grace and ease as he did. But he wasn't nervous like she was. She was practically trembling...until she affirmed, "I want you, Marcus. To take care of me."
And he smiled, then. A short but tremendous thing to see, his hands falling to her waist. "Gladly, my love."
And then he was kissing her. Hard, deep, so much meaning without saying anything at all, she felt as she did in all of his kisses: that he was trying to convey the measure of his love for her each time.
He reached down between them, and she was distracted for a moment by the clink of his belt buckle becoming undone, but he just kissed her harder to send her mind hazy.
He succeeded...and she only stirred again from her daydreamy state when he tugged, pulling her underwear to the side.
She whined, embarrassed, but he paid what she worried over no mind, merely shushing her and muttering in distraction, "Quiet now, love. I want no shame. All I want is you. Take your time."
So she did. She let him align himself with her, finding stability, grasping at his shoulders to ground her in reality.
"Slowly." He asserted, both of his strong, large hands now braced roughly on her hips to help her take him in fully, to ease her down. "That's it. Good girl."
The shock of him filling her was evident, her mouth falling open, a breathy moan breached through those pouty lips he'd kissed raw, lips she bit at to stifle her noises.
He panted a laugh, a big cunning smirk crossing over his lips for the briefest of moments, and even when distracted by this brand new feeling, Nora still managed to think she'd never witnessed him be so cocky.
Experimentally, he moved. A shallow thrust, pulling all the way out and slowly pushing his way back inside her. She shivered, but her little high sigh was of excitement, not pain or fear.
Sure she was as absorbed in him as he was her, he started a slow, sensuous motion. Foreheads pressed together, they echoed the same choked groan, because this was as close as they'd ever been. So intimate, so loving.
He hissed through his teeth, gritting them as he resisted the roughness that came with his nature.
Voice a croon of slight condescension, he tutted, using his grip on her smooth flesh to make her move to meet his slow, torturous thrusts as he picked up the speed. He was so eager to have her feel good rather than any hurt or anxiety that he let his control slip just a little.
"No. No silence." He admonished, a hard bite to his tone, fingers digging into her, "Sing for me, little bird."
He'd barely begun, and yet her thighs trembled against his, hands holding fast to his sturdy shoulders, face bowed to be concealed. She was disobeying him, muffling her moans.
But he allowed her the comfort of hiding in him from the intensity. An intensity he was using on purpose to fluster her so. He slid his grip so his arms encompassed her fully and pulled her flush to him.
"Don't be shy for me, love." He soothed, kissing her jaw.
As she raked her fingers through his curls to find purchase, losing herself to his touch, he ground himself lazily into her, so dedicated...and he smiled all the while, loving that every move had her crumpling further into him.
"My gorgeous girl." He drawled, voice a deep rumble, his proud expression dissolving into a softer smile of awe as she squirmed in his lap, her warmth squeezing him, fluttering at the praise. He grunted, arms tightening around her. She was close already, his sensitive Nora. He wanted to feel her let go so badly. "Come along, love. Let me hear you."
She couldn't help the way her body trembled under his touch, how she responded to his deep, powerful words. This time she listened to his demands that drew forth her loud keens, but this position...he was so deep in her, holding her so close, she couldn't contain them even if she'd desired to do so.
She bit at her lip again, rousing pearls of blood, wantonly grinding down now. She'd never topped before, and though he had all the control she was still bashful for doing something she'd never done, cheeks abashed by a dark blush. She searched for what she knew he was longing to give, "Marcus..."
"I know. I have you, darling. You're being so good for me." He hushed his protection, his assurance into her ear, a hand smoothing the hair from her face.Hugging her close, he showed his blatant strength that had ruined others by keeping her still where he wanted her, at his mercy...but he was now so tender as he fucked up into her languidly. No rush. Only an urge to take his time. Cherish what was his.
It was so different from Aro, because while he had been sweet and doting, Marcus was only that. He made her feel safe when she was at the peak of vulnerability. He held her so close, his hands soft and delicate–so gentle, she felt like each faithful strong roll of his hips jolting her body with the power of them was him telling her he loved her, too. He was a man of few words, but in his affection he spoke volumes.
"Mmm...Marcus," She whined for support, burying her warm face into his neck again as he rocked into her over and over and over. Steadfast, strong, unyielding. Just like his devotion.
"Feel it, Nora," He cooed his encouragement, feeling how close she was as she leased a high pitched, desperate whimper against his frozen skin. He changed his angle just a little, a tilt, knowing he'd hit the right spot when she clenched around him and mewled. He groaned, right there with her, her body tense, skin glistening with sweat. She was resisting. That wouldn't do.
"Don't run, mia dolcezza. Chase it."
She obeyed, sinking into his chest and the security of his embrace. She was so inexperienced still, but his lust for her let loose her wants hidden within. Her hips rolled and pushed down to meet his forceful advances with a steady rhythm, only encouraged as he sighed deeply and pressed his brow to hers.
"That's it." He grinned, laying leisurely bites and nips and scrapes of teeth against the flaming skin of her shoulders, her collar bones, her neck. Anywhere he could reach, feeling her taut body slacken as they left her serene. She started to moan and pant, louder and louder, and he hummed, "Let go for me, pretty."
Eyebrows furrowed in ecstasy, she cried out, on the verge of a sob, moving with abandon to chase and chase that delightful rush of her climax.
"Yes, my sweet, that's it," He revelled in her precious release, his own face contorted in pleasure as she mouthed at his cool skin to bring some relief to the flush of heat searing through her.
He growled words of love and adoration, rocking into her almost violently, letting her ride through it. And poetically, completely solidifying them in this monumental point of truth, they fell together.
With one last convulsion, one last stutter of her hips, she gasped a pitchy moan and stilled, flopping into him. Entirely boneless, entirely spent. Completely reliant that he support her, panting, heart soaring.
He kept going for a moment, meaning to drag this out for as long as possible, but then she whined in overstimulation and he acquiesced to stop.
They fell still. Time seeming to freeze around them, to help them stay. He held her, allowing her however long she needed to anchor herself.
Releasing drowsy noises of content, utterly fucked out, he let her catch her breath, mollifying her, "Well done, my sweet. You did so well for me."
"Mmm...I love you, Marcus." She whispered tiredly again as an answer, clearly catching him off guard.
He hadn't exerted himself, it was impossible to, but he breathed heavily along with her as he used his finger and thumb to lilt her head up. He was...stunned, because she wasn't so afraid to say it this time. Just as he had, now there was no faltering.
Their smiles this time were lazy, content, sweet kisses shared as they stayed. Just stayed, connected. Nora didn't think she'd ever felt this happy in her life.
"And I love you." He told her, for once in millennia finding it easy to show blatant emotion. It didn't feel like he was just saying it. It felt like he was telling her so much more with those simple words. Like he was having some epiphany himself.
He nuzzled into her neck, delighting in her squealed laughter as he vowed into her marked skin, "I love you, love you, love you,"
"Stop! Marcus!"
All was right it in the world as they basked in each others presence. A rare moment of privacy, of clarity they didn't often get anymore with the threats constantly around them.
It was a dream, a fairytale, and she felt as if nothing could ever go wrong again.
She was unaware that the worst was yet to come.