3,785LXXXVI. Hearts
The next few minutes felt like a dream. Somehow, I'd managed to pull myself together and off my mate. I'd managed to stammer out that Andronikh had to be healed and cared for until he woke, and then he was to be immediately returned to his home, and that they were to make sure his siblings stayed safe. Everything else, I would deal with later.
I couldn't say much more. My nerves were fried. Without fear fuelling me, I felt like the impostor I was… who the hell was I to give orders like this? I was a stranger to this clan with nothing but blood ties to the heiress—like that was supposed to mean anything.
I felt eyes on me and, more than that on Edward, whom everyone stared at with narrow-eyed distrust, even outright aggression.
It was testament to my grandmother's iron fist rule that no one questioned me.
I led us downwards into the underground caves where I knew there was water. The moment we were far enough in, I raised my shields and drew the stones together, erasing the pathways to us. We were finally alone. My façade fell away as I looked at my mate up and down. His clothes were almost completely torn away and he was drenched in blood—I didn't know how much of it was his.
"How badly are you hurt?" I asked tightly. "Tell me the truth."
He managed a small smile. "I never lie to you."
We were an arm's length apart, and I didn't dare close the distance, afraid I was going to start crying all over again.
Sensing my mood, Edward raised his hand slowly, achingly slowly before he placed it, feather-light, against my cheek. He hesitated as his fingers left a trail of blood, but I covered his hand with mine before he could pull it away.
"You've learned to speak it," he murmured, eyes shining with wonder, and I realised we were conversing in his tongue, not mine. I had been speaking it for so long, I'd forgotten I was doing it.
"Don't change the subject," I whispered, not switching languages. I didn't want to leave any more marks of the future in the past.
"I'm not hurt, my love," he said, tilting his head. In his mother tongue, his words sounded more heartfelt, more fluid, his personality shining through more brightly. I hadn't realised how large a chunk of it I'd been missing. "I can't say the same for your Ancients though." His smile was rueful.
"They're not my Ancients." I refused to think of them as such.
He didn't argue the point, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. "And you?" His words were tentative but I felt the concern behind it. "Are you hurt?" He brushed his thumb against my cheek and I trembled, pulling away.
"No," I said.
I didn't know why I was being so cold. Inside, I was screaming for him, but without this numb calmness, I didn't think I could function. I wanted to get him cleaned up, I wanted to see for myself that he wasn't hurt, and I wanted to do it all without bursting into another round of useless tears.
"Come on, the water's this way," I said, softening my tone.
This time, he followed behind silently, making no attempt to touch me. We walked the length of the tunnel for what felt like ages. I felt his presence behind me acutely, and for the first time since I'd met him, the silence between us was awkward and uncomfortable.
I was relieved when the cave spring came into view, the water a lovely blue, the little spring splashing quietly. There were clean handwoven towels lined up near the edges, as though many people came here to bathe regularly. I knelt down and dipped my hand into the water.
"It's a little cold," I said.
"Doesn't bother me," he said.
We looked at each other. And there it was again, the awkward silence. I didn't understand it—it wasn't like this before.
"Do you… do you want to wash up?" I said finally.
He dipped his head too quickly, as though he were flustered by my words. He began to peel off what was left of his clothes, and I found myself averting my gaze, turning away to give him some privacy… and then I paused, frowning as I stared at a rock opposite.
We'd seen each other naked before. I'd slept with him. For crying out loud, I was carrying his child.
So why did we feel like strangers?
"Bella," he said. "Are you all right?" He was speaking my tongue now, almost as though he felt the million miles between us and was trying to bring things back to the way they were before. But after hearing his natural cadence, it sounded stilted and forced.
I turned to look at him. He was in the water, beautiful as ever even with a half-scrubbed, bloody face, but looking at him felt... I didn't feel… I didn't know what I was feeling.
"I don't know, Edward," I said quietly. Even his name felt strange on my lips. "I think… I think I'm still a bit overwhelmed by everything."
He waded closer to the edge, to where I was sitting, but when he reached out to touch me, I flinched.
I saw the flicker of hurt before he could quell it, and I grabbed his hand, willing myself to stop making everything worse.
"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I don't know what's wrong with me—"
"I do," he said, his expression twisting in a way that made my heart ache. "It feels wrong, doesn't it?"
"We've been through a lot—"
"We've always had a lot going on," he said. "But this is the first time that we've felt wrong."
I didn't know what he was getting at.
"No," I said at once. "It doesn't feel wrong. It just feels… strange." That was the word. I loved him. I trusted him. It just felt like we were out of sync. Like I needed to get used to having him around again. Which was strange in itself.
"Strange," he repeated, as though he were considering it. "I suppose you're right." He sounded mollified. He looked as though he were about to say something more but then he pressed his lips together.
"All of this ridiculous heiress nonsense is getting to me." I rubbed my chest without meaning to. "You almost didn't recognise me," I said. "Hell, I barely recognise myself."
He rested at the edge of the water, looking at me for a long, long time.
When he spoke, his voice was rough.
"I recognised you," he said, his eyes flaring. "I came for you. I found you half a world away in a different century. I found you, Bella."
The last of the blood had washed away, and he took a towel and came out of the water. This time, I held still when he reached for me. When his embrace closed around me, I didn't know why I ever wanted to pull away. He held me like I was something precious, and in his arms, I believed I was.
Edward brought the towel against my cheek, dabbing away the dried fingerprints of blood, his gaze affectionate.
"I missed you," he murmured.
I didn't trust myself to speak.
I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes. The towel fell to the ground and his hand moved to cup my face. His thumb stroked my cheek back and forth, back and forth, leaving a trail of fire on my skin.
He was waiting. Waiting for me to be ready. I was more than ready.
I captured his lips with wild abandon, my hands tangling in his hair as I launched myself at him. He wasn't expecting it and we nearly fell into the water.
Edward angled his body sideways just in time and I fell onto him with an inelegant oof.
He laughed.
His laughter was infectious and soon I was laughing too and we were a breathless heap on the ground.
"I think I'm out of practice," I said.
"I'm a very willing practice partner," he drawled out, looking up at me with exaggerated half-lidded eyes, and I giggled. He held out his arms. "Come here."
I pushed myself up to my elbows and went in for a second try.
Once again, it struck me how odd this new clumsiness was—like I was trying to get used to my own mate. But we were having fun, and the thought was banished to the back of my mind.
The kiss was tentative at first but soon we each found a rhythm the other liked, and he was kissing me boneless. I couldn't get enough. I wrapped my arms around him, and then my legs. One of his hands slid down to rest on my hip, the firm grip sending a jolt of desire through my body.
I stroked the muscled planes of his chest, admiring his body. I began to plant kisses down it when he rolled us over so that his body pressed over mine, his hand curled underneath my head to shield it from the hard ground. I sighed and buried my nose in his neck, loving his scent. He scooped me up and carried me to where a pile of clean towels were, laying me down amidst the softness as he trailed kisses down my neck.
"I want to make you feel good," he murmured. "Let me make you feel good."
"You always do."
Looking up at him like this, I felt shy, almost like it was our first time. In many ways, it was. The first and only time we'd been intimate, I'd been mindless with bloodthirst, acting almost completely on instinct.
His gaze softened. "Not like this," he said. "I've barely had the chance to touch you."
There was regret in his voice—too much of it—for this to be something simple. Before I could take a closer look, his eyes roamed down my body, revealing a hunger that blew me away with its intensity. "Gods, I want you." There was a vampiric edge to his voice, an animal darkness that he'd never let me see before.
With one sharp tug, he pulled me down towards where he was kneeling. I parted, already pliant from his kisses, and his fingers tore away the delicate material from between my thighs. His breath tickled my skin as he drank in the sight of me, his pupils dilating, and then his head dipped between my legs.
The first caress of his tongue made me gasp. His eyes were aflame as he watched me from below, and he gave me another and another—gentle strokes at first and then firm, pleasurable ones that made me writhe and cry out.
He spread me wider, gripping my hips to hold me in place until I arched off the ground, seeing stars as my body spiralled beyond my control. His lips closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing it softly into his mouth to prolong the pleasure. It was too much, sweet agony that made my hips buck uncontrollably.
"Please," I sobbed, not knowing if I wanted him to stop.
He slowed, lapping up the moisture that had gathered between my thighs, the flat of his tongue sending shockwaves through my sensitised skin.
He slid a finger inside me. "Good?" He curled the finger as he withdrew it and I grasped our scattered clothes, barely aware I was moaning.
"Yes," I said breathlessly. "God, yes."
He added a second finger. His movements were slow at first, searching, until he brushed against a spot that made me jerk. His lips curled with satisfaction. "Here?"
"Yes," I choked out.
He circled that sensitive spot, massaging it as he stared at me intently, drinking in my every reaction. "Like this?" His voice was rough with need as he manipulated my nerves expertly and turned me mindless.
"More," I begged.
He pressed more firmly, moving more rapidly and I came once more. I clenched around him, animal sounds ripping from my throat, and still he kept going, mercilessly wringing climax after climax from my body. His fingers were drenched by the time he withdrew them and imbibed the remnants of my slick.
I was dizzy when he crawled over to me, stroking my hair, his eyes so tender that it made my heart flutter. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. Another to my cheek. And then I realised he was planning on stopping.
Indignance rippled through me.
His pupils were still blown wide, his fangs slightly protracted as he swallowed the venom that was pooling in his mouth, and I didn't need to look down to know that he was hard.
Aching to feel him, I pushed him down and pressed myself against him, rolling my hips. His groan was half a growl as he tried to hold my hips still. "Bella—"
"I want you, Edward," I breathed, fisting his hardness and running the tip of it up and down my folds, provoking the frayed edges of his control.
He shook his head. "I want you too, but—"
"It doesn't matter," I whispered.
His eyes found mine, and I wasn't sure what he saw in them, but a second later, he gave in. He surged upwards, and my body welcomed him, the pleasure so sharp that we both gasped. I felt myself shudder around him, my sensitive tissues already on the brink of another climax.
"It doesn't matter?" He sounded tortured.
"No." I began to work myself up slowly up and down his length and he tried to hold my hips still again, his muscles trembling with the effort it took to restrain himself.
"I have to tell you something," he said.
I put a finger to his lips. "So do I. Not now." To make a point, I sank down more forcefully onto him.
His answering groan was guttural. "You'll be the death of me."
He moved with me now, his hips rising to meet mine as I took what I wanted, feeling his body tighten as we both came close—so close.
He shifted sideways, rolling me underneath him again. "Not yet." His voice was deep with arousal. He clenched his jaw, giving me several quick, hard thrusts that pushed me over the edge. While I came, he placed my calf onto his muscled shoulder, thrusting deeply and rolling his hips as though he wanted to mark every corner of my body. I gripped his forearms, my body overwhelmed by sensation. Finally, finally, he let himself go.
I felt him swell within me. My pleasure crested with his, and I threw my head back deliriously to find his hand once again cushioning me from the stone.
We were both breathing hard.
Slowly, the world returned, and our foreheads touched.
"You're a terrible lover," I huffed.
Edward tensed, the distress so apparent on his face that I felt almost bad for teasing him. Almost.
"Did I hurt you?" He was already trying to pull back, nostrils flaring as he searched me worriedly for a nonexistent wound.
I clung to him in protest. "No," I said, shaking my head. "But I can't believe you've been holding all of that back."
He stopped trying to pull back, looking momentarily vexed, and then his eyes glinted with familiar humour—humour that I'd missed so much. "Oh, you're going to pay for that," he said, his arms tightening around me with a dark promise that made me try to wriggle away.
"Where do you think you're going, little hostage?"
He caught my wrists and I squealed.
"I was just kidding!"
"Mm." He pinned my arms above my head and peppered light kisses down my neck that made me squirm and giggle. "Very funny." My laugh turned into a moan as he nudged my dress open and took the tip of my breast into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it while he held me stretched and exposed for him.
His lips grazed my collarbones, my ribs, before stopping at my belly. He cocked his head, his expression puzzled.
I frowned as I heard it too and at first, I didn't know what it was.
A quiet tap, and then after a few seconds, another, and another, quickening until it was fast as a hummingbird's wings. The sound was oddly wet...
A heartbeat.
Edward's eyes widened as he realised it, flickering from my abdomen to my face, and when I didn't look surprised, they narrowed.
His grip tightened around my wrists and I saw the possessiveness from five hundred years ago resurfacing. No, not resurfacing. It had always been there, buried beneath the centuries of learned patience. It seemed the long separation, coupled with whatever we'd done today had stripped the layers away.
"My sweet mate," he said, his voice dangerously low. "When were you going to tell me about our child?"
There was a flicker of joy in his eyes that he couldn't quite hide.
I smiled weakly. "I told you it didn't matter."
He looked at my belly again, and what little joy in his eyes was suddenly replaced by paralyzing fear. I had the impression that he wanted nothing more than to take me and hide me from everything that was trying to kill us.
I didn't blame him. I'd been in shock for several days after finding out.
"It's going to be all right," I said, and I believed it. Now that we were together, I'd never been surer of it. I squirmed underneath him. "You can let me go now."
He looked at me as though I'd lost my mind.
"I'm never letting you go," he declared. "Never again. I'm going to keep you tied to me." He gathered me up into his arms together with what was left of the clean towels and strode across to the spring.
He dipped one of the towels into the water and gently wiped the sweat from my brow, then my neck, slowly working his way down. I got the feeling that he was trying to keep his hands busy so he wouldn't lose it.
"Edward," I said, putting my hand on his arm. "It's going to be fine."
He nodded, not quite meeting my gaze.
Time. He needed time.
I changed the subject. "The thing you wanted to tell me before," I said. "What is it?"
The towel slipped from his hold, plopping into the water. He watched it sink without picking it up. Then he reached for another towel, turning it in his hands as though he didn't know what to do with himself.
I'd never seen him so out of it.
I touched his face. "Edward. What's wrong?"
He finally looked up at me. "I love you," he said. "I found you, against all odds. So it doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter." He shook his head, his eyes steely. "It's not important. The most important thing right now is for you to be safe and content."
He looked calm, but his heartbeat gave him away.
I hugged him. "If you say it's not important, then I believe you."
His arms came around me, holding me tightly. "I'll keep you safe. I promise."
His words made my heart flutter once again, and this time, I ached for something that I couldn't name. I buried myself in my mate's scent, trying to shake the strangeness of today away. It had been a long day.
Here's the chapter up early! I love vacations because I can write without interruption. Hope you like it :)