Page 39 of These Eternal Bones
Selkie, because I would never share her given name, something entrusted to me alone.
I’ve learned it’s like an odd calling system.
If I speak it out loud, even if it’s only a whisper, it gets her attention no matter the distance.
She told me it feels like a soft tug, a prick of awareness that’s unique to her. Since then, I’ve used it sparingly.
“You would have me there instead of you?” He asks, cool arms banding around me as he buries his nose in my hair, breathing me in the same way I’m inhaling spice and cedar.
“Do you like it?” I whisper.
“It is stunning. You made me look less terrible.”
I laugh at that. He knows he’s beautiful. “Fishing for compliments is below the Vampire of Port Clyde.”
“Nothing is below me when you are involved, syringa.”
His words are sweet, as soft as his lips on my cheek.
But something about them makes the unease already blooming in my gut swell higher, choking.
It sounds…foreboding. My smile is watery as he presses his lips to my skin, peppering me in kisses until my smile warms again. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
He growls slightly, his hands gripping the swell of my hips, making my core throb. “Yes?”
My mind blanks for a moment because while one hand locks my hip in a vice, the other is trailing up the bodice of my dress, his tendrils snaking around my ankles.
I gasp as his hand finds my throat, adding a bit of pressure, and I’m quickly wilting in his arms, my mind turning to more carnal, desperate thoughts.
I’m wound tight, anticipating something he won’t give.
“My love, I fear you’re getting distracted.”
“I-ugh…” I stifle a moan as his thumb presses and circles my nipple through my dress. “I do not want you to have a portrait of me hung.”
He stills.
Like death frozen over, and I nearly kick myself for not waiting, but this is important. Something I need him to understand. He cannot hang onto the next life where there won’t be one .
“I’ve been having nightmares, or perhaps they aren’t scary at all.” The words rushing out, “I have decided this life will be my last, that I can feel it. I won’t leave you.” It’s a vow, and the words ring truer as I say them out loud.
“She foresaw something he did not like. Your death. A true one.”
“Molly, let’s not speak of–”
A sound of frustration leaves my throat as I try and fail to untangle myself from him. “Yes, Molly. Be quiet Molly, do not ask questions Molly! I must’ve missed it when I arrived back in New Eden! If this is how it’ll be, then consider my debt paid and send me back to him!”
His arms release me, but his tendrils don’t.
The second I whirl on him, I wish I could take back the harsh words.
The utter shock…of hurt in his eyes lances the anger from my chest. He’s silent, still for so long, even his tendrils drop from my flesh, lying limp around him.
The sight makes me feel sick. For some reason, I cannot find it in me to apologize.
I didn’t mean it, of course…but still . The only movement is the deepening of his veins.
How they flood and overwhelm his eyes in a rush.
I watch him slip away. The thought panics me.
“You need to feed, Elric. I don’t care about the bond; I will not leave you. ”
It’s the message I’d hoped to get across, but things have devolved rapidly.
My chest is heaving, tears filling my eyes as he stands there.
Until he isn’t. I scream at his sudden disappearance, my breath leaving me as I’m suddenly slung over his shoulder so fast my stomach pivots.
In the blink of an eye, we’re standing in our bedroom.
I’m placed on the bed, gently, always gently, as his tendrils gouge at the surrounding walls. “You think to leave me?”
“N-no, of course not.”
He blurs closer, his grip on my jaw rough but not painfully, not aggressive, as his claws prick my skin.
That eerie quality to him is back. I know I did away with what little restraint he had left.
“I will slaughter every supernatural and human in the town of Port Clyde, if your foot so much as graces the dock.” The tears that had budded in my eyes spill over, my mouth gaping as he surrounds me, swells the very energy of him until it's pressing down.
His power floods my veins, and I can feel him there amongst my blood.
“Do not forget what I am, sweetest Molly. Fantasies of a lifetime, where I do not lose you, would be nothing more than a distant memory if I told you what I had done. What I would do again. You are mine , given to me by the gods. My other part, you have no clue the kind of madness that brings.”
My lip trembles, his fangs inches from them as he glares deep into my eyes.
His tendrils smash into the trunk holding my paints.
Knocking it over, my eyes darting there as they spill out onto the floor.
The books are now in plain sight, but I don’t hazard another glance.
He’s there, panting, vibrating with power and restraint.
He presses a kiss to my forehead, one that is more fang than lips, and then he’s gone.
The doors slam so hard the molding cracks.
I choke on the sob that works up my chest.
Not sure how long I sit there, tears streaming silently down reddened cheeks.
Quiet Molly.
Obedient Molly.
Agreeable Molly.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, steeling my chin as I walk over, noting the large hole punched in the trunk's side. The tubes of paint inside were pricked by whatever form of tendril had struck the trunk. I don’t bother cleaning it up, trying to prevent more spillage of the precious goods.
My hand grasps the leather-bound diaries as I drag them into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.