Amelia's POV

(23yrs old)

Chapter 1

I sit on the black wooden porch swing, gently rocking back and forth with the wind, as I stare out at the massive, ancient trees surrounding our home. An immense swirl of thoughts invade my head as I try to wrap my head around today's events. The day had started out as any other day, playing with and loving on our beautiful children, but soon my past decided to collide with my present. A fear I had so long hoped would never occur. A Carpathian that Tariq knew as a young child came by and delivered an ivory-colored envelope addressed to me from my estranged sister.

Suddenly, the sound of my daughter Emmaline letting out a loud squeal jerks me back from my swirling thoughts, giving me a welcoming reprieve from my thoughts. I glance back at the house and smile as the interruption is soon followed by the loud pitter patter of her tiny feet on the hard wood floor. Tariq had been playing tickle monster with her when I grabbed the letter from Savannah and my son Kaleb before slipping out to the front porch. Unfortunately the darkness that is my past doesn't stay away for long. Looking down at my innocent, sleeping son, memories of a past long buried rise to the forefront of my mind. I violently shake my head to rid myself of those atrocious memories. I focus back on my son's sleeping form and how much had changed in my life since my 18th birthday. I married Tariq, had my daughter Emmaline at the age of 18, and later had my son Kaleb at the age of 22. A smile graces my face as I think about the day I met my lifemate, Tariq.

-Flashback-

I lift my workout bag, sling it across my shoulder, and lock up the studio. I had purchased the dance studio a block from my apartment about six months ago and it's been thriving ever since. My student count had doubled since school let out a month ago, thank God. I glance outside to make sure it isn't still snowing. Thankfully, it had stopped. I had long since accustomed myself to the glaring sunlight, but these cloudy days, dreary were a welcome reprieve for me. Shaking my head, I begin the fairly long walk to my apartment.

Dance has always been my passion, ever since I saw the French ballet with my aunt Shea and my sister Savannah. The elegant, agile figures twirling about on stage had entranced me, transporting me to another universe. That world of family seems a lifetime ago . . . three years to be exact. Three years since my little brother was murdered. Three years since my parents abandoned me, blaming me for his death. The bitterness and hate that has been haunting me since that night rear their ugly head, whispering evil things in my ears, but I tamp them down quickly when a wave of nausea rolls over me. I quickly scan the area looking for anomalies in the surrounding environment as my father had once taught me to do, but I find no evidence of a Carpathian or Vampire near. Ever since I could remember, I would suddenly become nauseated when someone was using some sort of psychic ability near me, whether it be a Carpathian or a Vampire. I hurry my pace as the looming apartment building comes into view.

Roughly five minutes later, I safely make it into my apartment when a large snowy-white owl lands on my balcony. One glance at the large predator lets me know that the owl is really a male Carpathian. The bird just stares at me patiently, waiting for me to unlock the door for him, and I eventually walk over to the door and comply. "You know, it is considered rude to drop by a person's home without informing them first." I say as I walk back towards the kitchen, knowing he could hear me. I turn around and face him. The most beautiful midnight blue eyes framed with sweeping black eyelashes clash with my own amethyst colored eyes. A deep longing sensation sends butterflies fluttering throughout my body. I had heard this feeling described so many times before, but only ever in reference to lifemates. "Well shit. Definitely major shit"

The man shakes his head before letting out a laugh. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that was the first thing you said, considering who your mother is." The mention of my family stirred the endless pit of hate. "Regardless of who my parents are, I would like to know who the hell decided to invade my home. So, if you could kindly tell me your name before I kick your ass out, it would be much appreciated." Humor sweeps through his facial expressions. "Forgive me my lady. My name is Tariq Asenguard. I was sent here to the United States by your father, the Prince." He ends the introduction with a sweeping, old-world bow. For the first time since he's entered my home, I get a good look at him. His face is finely chiseled and framed with shoulder-length inky black hair. His skin is a milky white, but the thing that catches my attention the most is his height. The man is easily a foot taller than my 5' 6" frame. Mustering my courage and banishing all the naughty thoughts surrounding those lush, cherry-red lips, I place my hands on my hips and stare at him. "That's great but I really think it's time for you to leave now." I walk over to the front door and open it, gesturing with my hand. "So, goodbye." Tariq chuckles softly at me and shuts the door. "Do you honestly think I would leave after having just found you?" I shake my head and sigh, resigning myself to the future. "I suppose that would be too much to ask, wouldn't it?

He cups my cheek and leans his forehead against mine. "It has been thousands of years since I was born and a majority of them were spent in a colorless, emotionless prison." I sigh again and reach my hand up to cup his hand. "I can't imagine what that was like, but I will NEVER, and I mean NEVER, go back to the Carpathian community. I can't. I won't." He places a soft kiss on the top of my head. "I know you won't and I will be forever content as long as I have you, Sίvamet." I close my eyes, allowing his words to sink in. "I have been endlessly prepared for this moment since I was born and I guess I won't fight it, but please don't take away my independence. I have lived on my own, survived on my own for the past three years . . . without a single person from our community helping me. I cannot and will not lose that independence." The idea of doing everything that another person commands fills me with a certain terror. "I have no desire to take away from you all that makes you, you." I nod my head as a sudden wash of relief fills me. "I suppose that's . . . a good thing."

He smiles and leans down, placing a soft, chaste kiss on my lips. A soft whisper of breath leaves me as he pulls away from me. "Te avio päläfertiilam. You are my lifemate. Éntölam kuulua, avio päläfertiilam. I claim you as my lifemate. Ted kuuluak, kacad, kojed. I belong to you. Élidamet andam. I offer my life for you. Pesämet andam. I give you my protection. Uskolfertiilam andam. I give you my allegiance. Sίvamet andam. I give you my heart. Sielamet andam. I give you my soul. Ainamet andam. I give you my body. Sίvamet kuuluak kaik että a ted. I take into my keeping the same that is yours. Ainaak olenszal sίvambin. Your life will be cherished by me for all my time. Te élidet ainaak pide minan. Your life will placed above my own for all time. Te avio päläfertiilam. You are my lifemate. Ainaak sίvamet jutta oleny. You are bound to me for all eternity. Ainaak terάd vigyazak. You are always in my care."

As he's saying the words, a deep sense of peace settles within me. I had heard my sister talk about it before, but I had never truly understood what it would feel like and now I do. I glance at Tariq through the thick of my eyelashes, wondering if he felt the same sense of peace. Of course I do csitri, little one. You have given me back my emotions, color, and, most importantly, my soul. I smile at him and am suddenly overwhelmed by a tired feeling, so I glance out the window and watch as the sun begins to color the sky a mixture of golden yellows and burnt oranges. "I suppose we should go lay down, seeing as the sun is coming up. I must say, I am really glad tomorrow, or today I suppose, is Sunday. He chuckles softly as he follows me into my bedroom. I look around at all the clothes strewn across the floor. "Sorry it's such a mess. Today is usually my cleanup day." He smiles and kisses me. It is not a problem little one. I do not mind. I nervously glance around the room, wondering what comes next. "Well . . . okay then. I usually lay on the right side of the bed, so I guess you can have the left side if you want. Um, I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed." A light blush spreads across my cheeks as I steal out of the room as quickly as possible.

I stall in the shower as long as possible but eventually the water runs cold. I turn off the water and reach for the violet towel hanging on the rack. I wrap myself in the large towel and stare in the mirror. I have never understood my appeal to people. I'm not gorgeous like my mother and sister are, nor am I talented like my brother. I am plain looking and rather forgettable compared to the women in the Carpathian society. I have never compared to anyone in our society as far as the beauty, brains, or talent departments go. Every Carpathian I knew was flawlessly gorgeous, amazingly intelligent, and beyond talented. Then there's me. Nothing beyond the average and simply a wall-flower. I wonder what about me is so amazing to him. Why me? I don't understand what about me makes him think I am worth having as his lifemate. I shake my head and pull out the most modest set of pajamas I have. Tiredness, again, tugs at my conscience and I shake my head, deciding to suck it up.

I walk back into my bedroom and find Tariq sprawled out on the left side of the bed. It amazed how peaceful he looked just lying there. I crawl into the bed and lay as far from him as possible. A deep chuckle plays through my mind as strong arms tug at my waist, pulling me next to his body so that we end up spooning. I roll my eyes and then close them. I'm halfway asleep when a soft, nearly-silent voice plays in my head. Good night sίvamet. You are an amazing woman, even if you refuse to see it. I would not change a thing about you.

-End Flashback-

Much has changed since that night, but I would never give it up for the world . . . even if it meant changing my past. A month later I Tariq and I found out I was pregnant with our beautiful Emmie. I was terrified of what kind of mother I would be to her. I had failed to protect my younger brother and his death had resulted from that. I was also terrified to tell Tariq of my pregnancy, though looking back now I could not tell you why. His joy at the prospect of being a father was something I hadn't seen for many, many years.

I soft, nearly-silent cooing brings my attention back to the peaceful, sleeping baby in my arms. His eyes flutter back and forth under his eyelids as he dreamed of a far away land. A gentle wave of peace washes over me and I snuggle my son closer to my body. Kaleb, like his sister, had been a surprise. I had no uncertainties or fears about the kind of mother I would be to him or Emmie. I knew that this child would be as much a blessing to our family as Emmie had been. It's amazing what four years could do. I love my life and the long held hatred for my family's abandonment had disappeared, but now . . . it seems to have only gone dormant.

The thoughts about my childhood home and the past I want so desperately to forget make an entrance again, making full circle with my thoughts and I arrive back to the problem-at-hand. That damned letter. I look down at my hands, only to find the letter silently mocking me. Fear of the envelope in my hand seems to settle around me like a thousand rocks, slowly crushing me. My breathing picks up as my heart begins to beat erratically in my chest. Calm yourself little one. There is nothing in that letter that could possibly change the way our children and I feel about you. You are our world, my love, and nothing will change that. I take a deep breath to calm the erratic fluttering of my heart. Thank you. I slowly run my index finger under the flap of the envelope and pull out the folded paper . . . opening the letter.

My Dearest Sister,

If this letter finds you then that means someone knows where you are. Good. I do so hope it finds you in good health. It has been such a long time since I've seen your beautiful face. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you. I know our parents desperately long to see you. Papa regrets his rash actions and has ever since that night, but that is not why I am writing you. I am writing you in hopes that you could help me. Mama blames him for driving you away that night and they haven't been the same since. It's like Mama has become a shell of herself. She looks and sounds like the woman who raised us all, but emotionally and mentally she left us then too. She sits and stares out at the wilderness for most of the night, ignoring those around her.

Nevertheless, I have so much I wish to tell you and so little space to do it in. Your nieces Anya and Anastasia have both found their lifemates. They are both good men and treat them excellently. I've had another set of twin daughters (Lord have mercy on poor Gregori!). Lucian and Jaxon had a baby girl along with Francesca and Gabriel . . . again. I guess the saying about twins always doing things together is true. Desari is pregnant with their second child. She often comes and visits Gregori, so somehow her pregnancy hormones have made me nostalgic.

We were sitting at the kitchen table the other day telling stories of our childhoods and I realized that every fond memory I could conjure involved you, Alexandru, and my daughters. I watched you grow into this beautiful young woman, but I still saw you as the little girl who incessantly begged her big sister to do her hair. It made me realize how much I miss you. You were always smiling and laughing as a child. These past years have been torture without you, though I suppose I've become numb to the pain. I know you must wonder why now. All these years later, why now and, truthfully, I have no answer for you except that the pain of losing you has compounded until it finally imploded. I couldn't bear the thought of our youngest children growing up and not having memories of their aunt doing their hair.

Our cousin, Stefan, continues to irritate Uncle Jacques with his persistent desire to attend college in the United States. I often wonder why Jacques even tries to persuade him otherwise, we both know Stefan will end up attending college there anyway. Alexandru often enquires about you. He asks if you are safe and healthy. He has half a mind to go find you himself and bring you home, but Gregori and Papa stop him every time. Mama already blames him for your loss and I think Papa fears you coming home because he couldn't stand it if you blamed and hated him as well. The worst part for him is knowing that you would have every right to blame and hate him.

Anyway . . . how are you? I have heard that you have found your lifemate. I do so hope he is treating you like a queen. I often stayed up at night wondering what my little sister was doing and if she was safe. I prayed every night for you and I do hope you have had a good life. I miss you dearly. Our parents and brother miss you dearly as well. Life isn't the same without you here. I know that we only have ourselves to blame for that, but please come home. Please? I hope that I will get to see you at the Christmas celebration, but I understand why you would not want to come. Sometimes the past really is too great a chasm to overcome.

With Great Love,

Your Sister

I finish the last line and close the letter. Tears are silently running down my face. A wash of concern floods my brain. Are you alright sίvamet? I shake my head. No . . . not really, but we can talk about it when the children are sound asleep. I look down at my son Kaleb as the sky begins to lighten. I stand up, careful not to shuffle Kaleb too much, and head back into the house. I listen quietly as Tariq helps Emmie get ready for bed before going into Kaleb's nursery and placing him in the crib. I grab the baby monitor and back downstairs as our housekeeper Scarlett Buchanan enters the house. "Hey, Mrs. A, how are you?" I smile weakly at her. "I've been better, but you know . . . what can you do?" She offers me an empathetic smile. "I'm sure it'll get better. Speaking of better, do I need to put Emmaline to bed?" I shake my head and hand her the baby monitor. "No, Tariq's doing that right now and Kaleb is already tucked in and asleep." She nods her head. "Well, good night Mrs. A. See you tonight." I give her one last weak smile before heading to the master bedroom. When I walk in I find Tariq lying on the king sized bed. I quickly divest myself of clothing and crawl in next to him. He starts to run his fingers through my hair and we just lay in silence for a while.

"What was bothering you earlier, csitri?" I snuggle into his side, lying my head on his chest, before I talk. "I got that letter from my sister. She wants me to come home. She was talking about how nothing is the same without me there and desperately wants me there. It just . . . it just brought back memories of that night that I would rather not revisit. Then she was talking about how my father regrets abandoning me and a giant part of me wants to forgive him and have my family back, but that tiny piece of me that still hates him refuses to release me. I'm petrified that she's lying and they'll still blame me for his death. I have lived these past eight years with that knowledge, but to have them say it to my face after all this time would somehow still destroy me. I don't understand why it would, but I couldn't deal with that."

Tariq gives me a squeeze. "You know I love you and whatever you decide, we'll be right there with you. We're a family and we always will be. Our children are happy and are loved so much by the two of us. Yes, it would be nice if they could know the rest of the Carpathian community because they'll have to be a part of it someday, but I understand why you would want to keep them away from it until they are older." I nod my head. "I . . . I think I would like to go back for the Christmas celebration and then we'll go from there. Okay?" He places a kiss on the top of my head and pulls the blanket up around us. Content with the decision, I close my eyes and allow the rest of my body to fall into the deep Carpathian sleep.