Chapter 142: 142
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For a long while the two of us lie there, limbs entangled, the heat of passion slowly leaving us, replaced by the cool breeze of the night and the lulling scent of roses. I cannot tell how long we stay there, listening to the eerie hum of night-time creatures, the air swimming the sullen calls of a lonely eagle owl. But the dark outside does not shift, remaining a foreboding blanket of twilight, hues of purple and deep blue shining in through the canopy outside.
At last, Soren hums a little, breaking the sleepy silence between us.
"You are beautiful," he murmurs dotingly, rolling us onto our sides to place a tender kiss on top of my head. "Everything about you is just so perfect."
At this I scoff. Me? Perfect? He must be joking.
"I'm pretty sure you are the perfect one between us, not me. I have messed things up more times than I can count- I am a force of chaos if ever there was one. Besides, you are a vampire- aren't you famed for being the most beautiful and seductive creatures in the whole of Faey?" I ask, giving him a pointed look, a small grin creeping onto my features.
Soren pulls back a bit to look at me, his eyes searching my form, my face, for the answers he cannot rightly find. There is a twinge of irritation that slinks through his face at my words, but it is quickly masked by a soft smile as he places his lips to my forehead once more.
I know he doesn't like it when I degrade myself, and he certainly doesn't like it when I degrade myself in front of him. But brutal honesty is the one thing I am good at, so who am I to deny myself that right?
Reluctantly, Soren sighs, rubbing his face with one hand.
"Perhaps those stories have some merit, but you are an angel. You are so much more than I will ever be. Don't try to argue with me on this one, Serena darling, I have seen plenty of people in my lifetime, and I can assure you that you- chaos and all, are the greatest."
I let those words sit in the air between us for a moment, half tempted to deny them, yet finding myself rather wearied from the toils of pleasure from my body. So instead I sink down and lie there in his arms, and that moment turns into a minute, and that minute turns into an hour. We stay like that long into the night, consumed by the darkness and the faint glow of golden ambience that fades out from my body, listening to the quiet whispering of the night and the solemn hoots of the owl buried deep into the forest.
It is a quite scene, one of unusual peace and tranquillity- certainly not one you would expect to see the King and Queen of vampires and angels sharing. But sooner or later, I remind myself blissfully, those age long expectations between our kind will no longer be in place.
Slipping in and out of consciousness, I clutch up against Soren's chest, his head as my pillow, mulling over the days actions. Soren's fingers slip over my hair, stroking it fondly, humming a low and gentle waltz that sends my mind spiralling into sleepiness.
The events of the day seem to have taken their toll on me- from near dying, to possible immortality, it certainly has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Not to mention that I now have a husband. Smiling inwardly, I nuzzle in close to Soren's chest. Nothing could be more perfect. Nothing at all. Except-
"Did you ever figure out how Azrael acquired the mind soul," I whisper, half aware of my actions as I press myself close against Soren, unwilling to let myself lean away from him for the strange fear I might never return. There is a certain ghostly warmth in the coldblooded creature, a strange comfort that despite the chill of his skin, traps me there in its embracing warmth. He places a light kiss on top of my head.
"I'm afraid I have not gotten to that yet," he says, a husky sleepiness lacing the edges of his voice. I feel a hand slip into mine, and through instinct alone, I clutch it tight, holding him close to me. Soren lets slip a small sigh and continues. "You see, I have been so consumed with the situation revolved around you that I have not put much thought or effort into getting to the bottom of my brother's irritating antics. But don't worry, I plan to address them tomorrow morning. It's not like he will be hard to find either, the whole palace is under lockdown."
I nod absently against his chest.
"Can I come with you?" I ask lightly, thinking he will protest, but Soren's answer is immediate.
"If you are certain you want to. I don't want to put you in any danger, but if you think you can handle it, you have every right to come with me."
I take a moment to look at him- really look at him, at the swirling golden dusting of his eyes, the faint kohl that lines his lids and the two beauty spots- one above his lip and one below his eyes. He is so pretty sometimes it's hard to forget he was famed for his blood lust and tyranny.
"Thank you," I mumble at last, pressing my head back against his chest, to which Soren clamps his hand behind me in response, running his fingers through my hair. And then as a quick after thought, I clarify: "For giving me the choice that is."
Soren nods his assent.
"You are strong enough to handle yourself, though your powers are still developing from years of being suppressed. I don't want to restrict you, or tell you what to do, I just want to protect you, and to make you feel loved. So if you think that coming with me is the right choice, I will not stop you."
I smile once more.
The council would never have given me a choice in the matter. Perhaps Ithuriel wouldn't have either. It would be their way, or no way at all, and that would be final- even if I had a direct role in the matter. Time and time again I have been denied presence at crucial meetings, or even to greet my subjects, all because 'the council does not see it fit.'
I suppose in that respect, Soren was never really a monster to begin with.
For a little while, I stare at the ceiling, at the floating lanterns and hanging garlands of roses that sway in the gentle midnight breeze. My mind drifts in and out of consciousness, lulled to a falsified half sleep as Soren's hand moves soothingly down my spine, whispering words of comfort in my ear. A period of unconsciousness strikes me, letting me melt away into the soft covers, and through my dreamless sleep I can feel a faint sway, as though I am being carried. When I at last wake up, I am in a different place, but all the same a familiar one- a room with a dark, velveteen bed, the faint impression of claw marks down the wall, a glass door leading out to balcony, and the far off clamour of servants running down the halls.
From the bed, I sit up groggily, wiping my eyes to dash away the sleepy dust, and noticing with a touch of glee that it is still dark outside, signalling that we still must be some ways into the night.
It takes me a moment to realise that I no longer have any wings on my back, cannot feel the cold and breathless air of a palace of vampires, instead only the coldness of bare skin on my back, and a red glowing pendant on my throat.
The blood inside swirls maliciously against its prison, roaring to be let free, to be returned to its owner. Obviously, that would be a rather awful idea, considering that the pedant is the sole reason I have not succumbed to Azrael's powers already, am not lying dead on the ground, or throthing at the mouth with my mind half ruined.
The thought alone is enough to make me shiver. I would rather not be thinking about Azrael right now- rather not have to think about him at all.
A warm, gentle voice interrupts me from my thoughts.
"You must be cold," says Soren, standing in the doorway where the bedroom and the living room intersect, head leant casually against the frame, a faint smile twitching on his silhouetted form. I draw my arms around myself, all at once feeling quite self conscious about being exposed. After all, we are back in the palace, I would have to be more careful here.
"A little," I admit, only just realising the slight shake in my voice. I bite my lip. I suppose to Soren, this disposition to the cold must make me look incredibly weak.
"It doesn't darling. Besides, sooner or later your vampire body is going to adapt to this cold, perhaps even by the morning. Unfortunately, your body is still in the process of altering its functions, but in no way does that make you weak," he says firmly, moving away from his spot by the door frame now, allowing me to get a better look at his form. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately (I can't decide) he is fully clothed now, dressed in a simple pair of brown trousers and a white gothic, slightly vintage, shirt, slightly open to reveal the cold alabaster white of his chest underneath. His hair is as messy as ever, dark brown to the point it is almost black, his golden eyes curious, soft, eliciting a sense of indescribable warmth and pleasure as they wash over me with their comforting gaze. Speaking of pleasure…
I glance down at the bite mark on my thigh- or at least what would be the bite mark, since there is nothing left of it. I give a faint smile of amusement. Whether that's the vampire blood or my healing powers at work, it is certainly effective that's for sure.
"Come," he says, reaching out for me as he draws me into his arms lovingly, squeezing me in his arms.. "Let's get you changed."
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For a long while the two of us lie there, limbs entangled, the heat of passion slowly leaving us, replaced by the cool breeze of the night and the lulling scent of roses. I cannot tell how long we stay there, listening to the eerie hum of night-time creatures, the air swimming the sullen calls of a lonely eagle owl. But the dark outside does not shift, remaining a foreboding blanket of twilight, hues of purple and deep blue shining in through the canopy outside.
At last, Soren hums a little, breaking the sleepy silence between us.
"You are beautiful," he murmurs dotingly, rolling us onto our sides to place a tender kiss on top of my head. "Everything about you is just so perfect."
At this I scoff. Me? Perfect? He must be joking.
"I'm pretty sure you are the perfect one between us, not me. I have messed things up more times than I can count- I am a force of chaos if ever there was one. Besides, you are a vampire- aren't you famed for being the most beautiful and seductive creatures in the whole of Faey?" I ask, giving him a pointed look, a small grin creeping onto my features.
Soren pulls back a bit to look at me, his eyes searching my form, my face, for the answers he cannot rightly find. There is a twinge of irritation that slinks through his face at my words, but it is quickly masked by a soft smile as he places his lips to my forehead once more.
I know he doesn't like it when I degrade myself, and he certainly doesn't like it when I degrade myself in front of him. But brutal honesty is the one thing I am good at, so who am I to deny myself that right?
Reluctantly, Soren sighs, rubbing his face with one hand.
"Perhaps those stories have some merit, but you are an angel. You are so much more than I will ever be. Don't try to argue with me on this one, Serena darling, I have seen plenty of people in my lifetime, and I can assure you that you- chaos and all, are the greatest."
I let those words sit in the air between us for a moment, half tempted to deny them, yet finding myself rather wearied from the toils of pleasure from my body. So instead I sink down and lie there in his arms, and that moment turns into a minute, and that minute turns into an hour. We stay like that long into the night, consumed by the darkness and the faint glow of golden ambience that fades out from my body, listening to the quiet whispering of the night and the solemn hoots of the owl buried deep into the forest.
It is a quite scene, one of unusual peace and tranquillity- certainly not one you would expect to see the King and Queen of vampires and angels sharing. But sooner or later, I remind myself blissfully, those age long expectations between our kind will no longer be in place.
Slipping in and out of consciousness, I clutch up against Soren's chest, his head as my pillow, mulling over the days actions. Soren's fingers slip over my hair, stroking it fondly, humming a low and gentle waltz that sends my mind spiralling into sleepiness.
The events of the day seem to have taken their toll on me- from near dying, to possible immortality, it certainly has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Not to mention that I now have a husband. Smiling inwardly, I nuzzle in close to Soren's chest. Nothing could be more perfect. Nothing at all. Except-
"Did you ever figure out how Azrael acquired the mind soul," I whisper, half aware of my actions as I press myself close against Soren, unwilling to let myself lean away from him for the strange fear I might never return. There is a certain ghostly warmth in the coldblooded creature, a strange comfort that despite the chill of his skin, traps me there in its embracing warmth. He places a light kiss on top of my head.
"I'm afraid I have not gotten to that yet," he says, a husky sleepiness lacing the edges of his voice. I feel a hand slip into mine, and through instinct alone, I clutch it tight, holding him close to me. Soren lets slip a small sigh and continues. "You see, I have been so consumed with the situation revolved around you that I have not put much thought or effort into getting to the bottom of my brother's irritating antics. But don't worry, I plan to address them tomorrow morning. It's not like he will be hard to find either, the whole palace is under lockdown."
I nod absently against his chest.
"Can I come with you?" I ask lightly, thinking he will protest, but Soren's answer is immediate.
"If you are certain you want to. I don't want to put you in any danger, but if you think you can handle it, you have every right to come with me."
I take a moment to look at him- really look at him, at the swirling golden dusting of his eyes, the faint kohl that lines his lids and the two beauty spots- one above his lip and one below his eyes. He is so pretty sometimes it's hard to forget he was famed for his blood lust and tyranny.
"Thank you," I mumble at last, pressing my head back against his chest, to which Soren clamps his hand behind me in response, running his fingers through my hair. And then as a quick after thought, I clarify: "For giving me the choice that is."
Soren nods his assent.
"You are strong enough to handle yourself, though your powers are still developing from years of being suppressed. I don't want to restrict you, or tell you what to do, I just want to protect you, and to make you feel loved. So if you think that coming with me is the right choice, I will not stop you."
I smile once more.
The council would never have given me a choice in the matter. Perhaps Ithuriel wouldn't have either. It would be their way, or no way at all, and that would be final- even if I had a direct role in the matter. Time and time again I have been denied presence at crucial meetings, or even to greet my subjects, all because 'the council does not see it fit.'
I suppose in that respect, Soren was never really a monster to begin with.
For a little while, I stare at the ceiling, at the floating lanterns and hanging garlands of roses that sway in the gentle midnight breeze. My mind drifts in and out of consciousness, lulled to a falsified half sleep as Soren's hand moves soothingly down my spine, whispering words of comfort in my ear. A period of unconsciousness strikes me, letting me melt away into the soft covers, and through my dreamless sleep I can feel a faint sway, as though I am being carried. When I at last wake up, I am in a different place, but all the same a familiar one- a room with a dark, velveteen bed, the faint impression of claw marks down the wall, a glass door leading out to balcony, and the far off clamour of servants running down the halls.
From the bed, I sit up groggily, wiping my eyes to dash away the sleepy dust, and noticing with a touch of glee that it is still dark outside, signalling that we still must be some ways into the night.
It takes me a moment to realise that I no longer have any wings on my back, cannot feel the cold and breathless air of a palace of vampires, instead only the coldness of bare skin on my back, and a red glowing pendant on my throat.
The blood inside swirls maliciously against its prison, roaring to be let free, to be returned to its owner. Obviously, that would be a rather awful idea, considering that the pedant is the sole reason I have not succumbed to Azrael's powers already, am not lying dead on the ground, or throthing at the mouth with my mind half ruined.
The thought alone is enough to make me shiver. I would rather not be thinking about Azrael right now- rather not have to think about him at all.
A warm, gentle voice interrupts me from my thoughts.
"You must be cold," says Soren, standing in the doorway where the bedroom and the living room intersect, head leant casually against the frame, a faint smile twitching on his silhouetted form. I draw my arms around myself, all at once feeling quite self conscious about being exposed. After all, we are back in the palace, I would have to be more careful here.
"A little," I admit, only just realising the slight shake in my voice. I bite my lip. I suppose to Soren, this disposition to the cold must make me look incredibly weak.
"It doesn't darling. Besides, sooner or later your vampire body is going to adapt to this cold, perhaps even by the morning. Unfortunately, your body is still in the process of altering its functions, but in no way does that make you weak," he says firmly, moving away from his spot by the door frame now, allowing me to get a better look at his form. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately (I can't decide) he is fully clothed now, dressed in a simple pair of brown trousers and a white gothic, slightly vintage, shirt, slightly open to reveal the cold alabaster white of his chest underneath. His hair is as messy as ever, dark brown to the point it is almost black, his golden eyes curious, soft, eliciting a sense of indescribable warmth and pleasure as they wash over me with their comforting gaze. Speaking of pleasure…
I glance down at the bite mark on my thigh- or at least what would be the bite mark, since there is nothing left of it. I give a faint smile of amusement. Whether that's the vampire blood or my healing powers at work, it is certainly effective that's for sure.
"Come," he says, reaching out for me as he draws me into his arms lovingly, squeezing me in his arms.. "Let's get you changed."
For a long while the two of us lie there, limbs entangled, the heat of passion slowly leaving us, replaced by the cool breeze of the night and the lulling scent of roses. I cannot tell how long we stay there, listening to the eerie hum of night-time creatures, the air swimming the sullen calls of a lonely eagle owl. But the dark outside does not shift, remaining a foreboding blanket of twilight, hues of purple and deep blue shining in through the canopy outside.At last, Soren hums a little, breaking the sleepy silence between us."You are beautiful," he murmurs dotingly, rolling us onto our sides to place a tender kiss on top of my head. "Everything about you is just so perfect." At this I scoff. Me? Perfect? He must be joking."I'm pretty sure you are the perfect one between us, not me. I have messed things up more times than I can count- I am a force of chaos if ever there was one. Besides, you are a vampire- aren't you famed for being the most beautiful and seductive creatures in the whole of Faey?" I ask, giving him a pointed look, a small grin creeping onto my features.Soren pulls back a bit to look at me, his eyes searching my form, my face, for the answers he cannot rightly find. There is a twinge of irritation that slinks through his face at my words, but it is quickly masked by a soft smile as he places his lips to my forehead once more. I know he doesn't like it when I degrade myself, and he certainly doesn't like it when I degrade myself in front of him. But brutal honesty is the one thing I am good at, so who am I to deny myself that right?Reluctantly, Soren sighs, rubbing his face with one hand."Perhaps those stories have some merit, but you are an angel. You are so much more than I will ever be. Don't try to argue with me on this one, Serena darling, I have seen plenty of people in my lifetime, and I can assure you that you- chaos and all, are the greatest."I let those words sit in the air between us for a moment, half tempted to deny them, yet finding myself rather wearied from the toils of pleasure from my body. So instead I sink down and lie there in his arms, and that moment turns into a minute, and that minute turns into an hour. We stay like that long into the night, consumed by the darkness and the faint glow of golden ambience that fades out from my body, listening to the quiet whispering of the night and the solemn hoots of the owl buried deep into the forest. It is a quite scene, one of unusual peace and tranquillity- certainly not one you would expect to see the King and Queen of vampires and angels sharing. But sooner or later, I remind myself blissfully, those age long expectations between our kind will no longer be in place.Slipping in and out of consciousness, I clutch up against Soren's chest, his head as my pillow, mulling over the days actions. Soren's fingers slip over my hair, stroking it fondly, humming a low and gentle waltz that sends my mind spiralling into sleepiness.The events of the day seem to have taken their toll on me- from near dying, to possible immortality, it certainly has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Not to mention that I now have a husband. Smiling inwardly, I nuzzle in close to Soren's chest. Nothing could be more perfect. Nothing at all. Except-"Did you ever figure out how Azrael acquired the mind soul," I whisper, half aware of my actions as I press myself close against Soren, unwilling to let myself lean away from him for the strange fear I might never return. There is a certain ghostly warmth in the coldblooded creature, a strange comfort that despite the chill of his skin, traps me there in its embracing warmth. He places a light kiss on top of my head."I'm afraid I have not gotten to that yet," he says, a husky sleepiness lacing the edges of his voice. I feel a hand slip into mine, and through instinct alone, I clutch it tight, holding him close to me. Soren lets slip a small sigh and continues. "You see, I have been so consumed with the situation revolved around you that I have not put much thought or effort into getting to the bottom of my brother's irritating antics. But don't worry, I plan to address them tomorrow morning. It's not like he will be hard to find either, the whole palace is under lockdown." I nod absently against his chest. "Can I come with you?" I ask lightly, thinking he will protest, but Soren's answer is immediate."If you are certain you want to. I don't want to put you in any danger, but if you think you can handle it, you have every right to come with me." I take a moment to look at him- really look at him, at the swirling golden dusting of his eyes, the faint kohl that lines his lids and the two beauty spots- one above his lip and one below his eyes. He is so pretty sometimes it's hard to forget he was famed for his blood lust and tyranny."Thank you," I mumble at last, pressing my head back against his chest, to which Soren clamps his hand behind me in response, running his fingers through my hair. And then as a quick after thought, I clarify: "For giving me the choice that is."Soren nods his assent."You are strong enough to handle yourself, though your powers are still developing from years of being suppressed. I don't want to restrict you, or tell you what to do, I just want to protect you, and to make you feel loved. So if you think that coming with me is the right choice, I will not stop you."I smile once more.The council would never have given me a choice in the matter. Perhaps Ithuriel wouldn't have either. It would be their way, or no way at all, and that would be final- even if I had a direct role in the matter. Time and time again I have been denied presence at crucial meetings, or even to greet my subjects, all because 'the council does not see it fit.' I suppose in that respect, Soren was never really a monster to begin with. For a little while, I stare at the ceiling, at the floating lanterns and hanging garlands of roses that sway in the gentle midnight breeze. My mind drifts in and out of consciousness, lulled to a falsified half sleep as Soren's hand moves soothingly down my spine, whispering words of comfort in my ear. A period of unconsciousness strikes me, letting me melt away into the soft covers, and through my dreamless sleep I can feel a faint sway, as though I am being carried. When I at last wake up, I am in a different place, but all the same a familiar one- a room with a dark, velveteen bed, the faint impression of claw marks down the wall, a glass door leading out to balcony, and the far off clamour of servants running down the halls. From the bed, I sit up groggily, wiping my eyes to dash away the sleepy dust, and noticing with a touch of glee that it is still dark outside, signalling that we still must be some ways into the night.It takes me a moment to realise that I no longer have any wings on my back, cannot feel the cold and breathless air of a palace of vampires, instead only the coldness of bare skin on my back, and a red glowing pendant on my throat. The blood inside swirls maliciously against its prison, roaring to be let free, to be returned to its owner. Obviously, that would be a rather awful idea, considering that the pedant is the sole reason I have not succumbed to Azrael's powers already, am not lying dead on the ground, or throthing at the mouth with my mind half ruined. The thought alone is enough to make me shiver. I would rather not be thinking about Azrael right now- rather not have to think about him at all.A warm, gentle voice interrupts me from my thoughts."You must be cold," says Soren, standing in the doorway where the bedroom and the living room intersect, head leant casually against the frame, a faint smile twitching on his silhouetted form. I draw my arms around myself, all at once feeling quite self conscious about being exposed. After all, we are back in the palace, I would have to be more careful here. "A little," I admit, only just realising the slight shake in my voice. I bite my lip. I suppose to Soren, this disposition to the cold must make me look incredibly weak. "It doesn't darling. Besides, sooner or later your vampire body is going to adapt to this cold, perhaps even by the morning. Unfortunately, your body is still in the process of altering its functions, but in no way does that make you weak," he says firmly, moving away from his spot by the door frame now, allowing me to get a better look at his form. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately I can't decide he is fully clothed now, dressed in a simple pair of brown trousers and a white gothic, slightly vintage, shirt, slightly open to reveal the cold alabaster white of his chest underneath. His hair is as messy as ever, dark brown to the point it is almost black, his golden eyes curious, soft, eliciting a sense of indescribable warmth and pleasure as they wash over me with their comforting gaze. Speaking of pleasure I glance down at the bite mark on my thigh- or at least what would be the bite mark, since there is nothing left of it. I give a faint smile of amusement. Whether that's the vampire blood or my healing powers at work, it is certainly effective that's for sure."Come," he says, reaching out for me as he draws me into his arms lovingly, squeezing me in his arms.. "Let's get you changed."
