AN: Hello, wonderful people!
The slim shady hamster is back and still alive after exams! Thank you for all your well wishes <3. Though I still have some bits of work to finish, I have decided to upload early. It is also my birthday, yaay, so you guys get a Zachary's PoV. :D
Your Fearsome Hamster
He returned from the kitchens to bring his mate the glass of warm milk only to find her already asleep in their shared bed. Putting the glass away, he silenced his steps as he crouched before her and tugged a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
She was so beautiful.
The beast in him was purring in delight at finally seeing her in his den, where she belonged. Curled into the covers, Margo looked small. Human. Fragile. Even in sleep, her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, burdened by unknown sorrows. She needed to be protected. But how could he fight something he could not understand? It had gutted him to see Margo so terrified, just moments after they found pleasure in each other. He could only stand helpless as she fought her own demons in her head. It had been torturous. He vowed to pry more into the matter – he would get to the bottom of it.
Zachary swiftly discarded of his robes and joined his mate in bed, carefully bringing her closer to his naked chest. Margo whimpered and snuggled closer. At his age, sleep did not come easily. After centuries of bitter survival, it was often impossible for his paranoid mind to quiet down and unwind. One did not become as ancient as him by not taking any cautions. Enemies lurked in every corner, as proven by his capture and later imprisonment.
Even now, his wrists felt the weight of those shackles.
Remembering how his lungs had burned for air underground, Zachary inhaled. His nostrils flared– only his mate's presence was perfuming the air. His scent on her appeased the darkest parts of his twisted soul.
Margo's presence had washed away the horrors of his past ordeal and brought a sense of peace into his life. He pulled her closer. His terrible journey had led him up to her, and for that he would do it all over again. Nothing mattered but the person in his arms now. He was no longer trapped.
He closed his eyes and for the first time in decades, sleep came.
.............................
A creak in the wooden floor awoke him.
His eyes snapped open, senses on high alert. Who dared disturb their sleeping quarters? His fangs erupted painfully from his gums, realising the other side of the bed was empty.
Pure reflex had him catching the arm of the intruder, the blade one hair's breath from his chest. Instinct had him ease his grip from crushing the bones of the hand he was holding. He could not believe what he was seeing.
The one holding the weapon was his Margo.
"Margo?" No response.
He tried again louder. Nothing. Instead, she lunged for his chest again. He quickly deflected the move, pinning her under his body. He ignored her trashing and caught her hands in his grip, throwing the damned blade as far away from her as possible. The one more likely to get hurt because of it was her not him.
"Margo! What is wrong with you?" he hissed. Concern was mounting inside of him. Her pupils were wide, her faraway gaze scaring him. Wrapping a steel arm around her, he subdued her writhing form and pulled her in his lap, locking his knees against her. Someone had done this to his mate. They had just signed their death.
He growled loudly. Margo jumped, trying to escape.
"You stay here, little one," Zachary shushed her moans of discontent and savagely bit into his free wrist. He knew exactly what to do. Blood exchanges between mates worked miracles.
Margo turned her head when he presented her with his gashing wound, but she had no choice. "Shh, it shall do you well," he whispered as he pushed his blood into her mouth. He watched her gulp, a trail of crimson liquid running from her chin to her chest while her nails bit into his arm, still trying to escape. It pained his heart to see her drink so reluctantly –he had envisioned much more pleasurable circumstances for this sacred step into their mating, but as long as his essence healed her, he did not care.
Slowly, but surely, her trashing ceased, her eyes blinking open in confusion. By now, his wrist had healed.
"Zachary?" Margo asked, licking her lips and wrinkling her nose. For newly bonded humans, blood was still an acquired taste.
In a panic, his mate ran her gaze over him, gasping when she discovered his chest. His torso was stained with his dried blood, a consequence of her feeding.
"Oh Heavens, Zachary, are you alright? Who did this to you?" her hands ran over his skin in a frenzy, her tone alarmed. A devilish part of him rejoiced in having her so concerned over him. He embraced her tightly, knowing the next news would shock her. He proceeded to explain the events of the night, his own mind trying to make sense of them.
During his recounting, Margo had been silent, her fingers tugging at the sheets in distress. The knife lying abandoned in the corner had her wincing as if slapped.
He finished. Suddenly, her shoulders started shaking. Tears wet his collarbone.
Fuck, he made his mate cry. For the hundredth time that nigh, he swore he would torture the living days out of the madman who did this. Zachary tried to coax her, but her head remained tucked on the nape of his neck.
Only his vampiric hearing made him understand the words she mumbled brokenly. "I hurt you, I hurt you."
His shoulders shifted and he grabbed hold of each of her cheeks, staring deeply into her brown eyes. They were red-rimmed and welling with tears. He used his thumbs to wipe the moisture away. His protectiveness rose inside of him.
"Margo, you did not hurt me, my love."
"But I could have," she sniffed, silent sobs wrecking her figure. "Who is to say the future does not hold a repeat of tonight's episode? You need to stay away from me, Zachary."
Hell would freeze over dozens of time before he followed through that. "Never utter those words again, Margo. Someone out there is lurking in the shadows trying to keep us apart, separating us is what they want," his eyes glowed. A sneaking suspicion told him the damned Dark Mages were behind this. They might have imprisoned him, but now that they came for his mate, there was no rat's corner they could hide in before he found them.
He nuzzled her nose to comfort her and calm himself. "Besides, my blood is now running through your veins, healing whatever poison they used to manipulate you."
Margo inched away, staring fascinated at his fangs. "Your blood is making me feel strange." One finger touched his sharp teeth. Zachary gulped.
He did not know whether relief or disappointment was more acute when Margo rested her head on his shoulder again.
Each lost in their thoughts, the two lovers sat in darkness, only the flickering candlelight warming their bodies. He was ready to settle them both more comfortably under the silky covers, when Margo broke the silence.
"Before this madness occurred, I had a terrible nightmare," his mate whispered, stroking his chest.
She continued. "I dreamed about you." His breath hitched. Something did not feel right.
"It was as though I was a spectator to a morbid play, not being to do anything but watch the events unfold before my eyes. I had seen you murder a man. He seemed a cruel master hitting his slaves. You made him beg for his life, but killed him anyway. And what was strangest was not the brutality of the scene, but the fact that the man went by your name. Frost."
No, it could not be. Zachary wanted to speak, to beg her to stop. This could not be happening now. Margo went on, unaware of his internal struggle.
"And then I dreamed of my friend Ray," she stopped, probably recalling that lunatic old seer. "I miss him so, yet I know nothing about him since that day he injured himself in the street," her tone was wistful. "When I went back to the physician to check on him, he had already left. In this dream, I saw him again," Margo clutched him tighter. "He was so scared, I could taste his terror in the air. Somebody had come for him that night he was hospitalised, somebody that hurt him badly and made him disappear god knows where."
Margo's wet eyes stared at him. "And that somebody looked exactly like you did, Zachary." One hand tremblingly caressed his cheek. "But, you could not do such atrocious acts to innocent people. You have been nothing but kind to me lately, I have grown to care about you so much, despite our differences. Why am I still having such nightmares?"
Her bittersweet confession formed a knot in his throat. Had he been still at the beginning of their courting, he would have led her to believe those were indeed just figments of her imagination. But now, he could not force his lips to utter those lies to her.
His lack of response unnerved his mate.
"Zachary?"
"Margo." Millions of thoughts exploded in his mind, yet he remained helplessly silent.
Her breathing was becoming erratic and her pulse running wild. "Zachary, the dreams, they are not true, are they?"
"Margo, we should talk about this the next day, when you are more rested. It had been a tiring d-," he pleaded.
"No, I want to know now. Did you find anything about Uncle Ray? I have been worried sick for him, "she demanded, moving further away from his lap on the other side of the bad. His arms already missed the comforting weight of her body.
Everything was spiralling out of his control. All he had done to make his mate accept him.
With lightening speed, he grabbed Margo again, being careful not to hold her too tightly, despite his instincts running rampantly.
"Please, let me go," she murmured, closing her eyes as if having already guessed his following move.
"Margo, you have to understand," he implored one last time. "Look at me," he already felt like a bastard for using the vampiric glamour on her again. Her eyes snapped open, disappointment and hurt swimming in her gaze. "We shall discuss this tomorrow, I promise I shall make it right, my love. Sleep now."
Although their bond had strengthened, he was still an ancient vampire and fighting his commands was impossible without their mating complete. She soon passed out in arms, an unhappy frown pulling at her lips.
He promised not to ever force her like this again.
He hissed, jumping from the bed. Some distant day in the future, when his mate would have loved him unconditionally, their mating complete, blissful eternity just waiting for them, Zachary would have perhaps told her of his misdeeds regarding his identity and her friend. But, now, with their bond like an untried flower bud in the middle of winter, he feared the worst.
He had to make it right somehow.
Knowing Margo's kind nature, she would want to go after her dear uncle Ray as soon as possible, first light in the morning. His beast growled in jealousy and longing. Instincts could not understand why with his mate so close to him, he could still not hold her.
He exited their chambers, not trusting himself not to return by her side. After their unfortunate dispute, he was certain Margo would not have him share her bed. Even now, the devil in him whispered he could still make her forget her dreams and continue their honeymoon in ignorant happiness.
As he angrily stalked the halls of his manor, outside, the wind began blowing harshly. It was time to buy himself more time.