I don't own a bloody thing.

Chapter 01: An Ominous Storm

White cheeks stained with remnants of dry tears, her head rested against the cold wood. Her lifeless ochre eyes gazed out of the dew-dropped glass admiring the darkness of the world. Her hands limply rested in her lap, long red slashes glistening beneath the lunar light. The branches and leaves danced sensuously in the arms of the frostiest, bitter rain of the season. Ominous gray clouds circled the radiant crescent threatening burial of its serene glow. Pale, dry lips parted as she exhaled, admiring the mist of her breath. Heavy lids finally slid closed as the intoxication of slumber overwhelmed her fragile form.

With her bedroom door cracked, a tall slim figure quietly tiptoed into the room, closing the door behind him. Creeping up to her, he knelt before her and silently admired her features. His heart leapt with longing and despair as he saw the moisture drenched lashes that embraced her sleeping eyes. Pressing his lips tightly together, he reached out with his warm hand, encasing her wilted ones. So many thoughts whirled within his mind. His throat ached to speak the words of his heart, but alas in the disquietude of this winter's night, he fell a coward to his familial restraints. Bowing his head with utter defeat and sorrow, he stood back up. Fingers reached out and tucked away loose strands that draped across her face. As his emotions overwhelmed all reason, he brought his lips to her and stole a soft kiss from her silken skin before escaping the arctic cage known as her home.

"Thank you for making the proper arrangements at such a late hour," a deep hoarse voice spoke into the dark kitchen. Slipping his leather gloves off his hands, he placed them on the counter of the island. Bringing long, strong fingers up to his black fedora, he tilted the hat forward. He appeared as a shadow in the outline of the night's light before the beautiful woman.

A long, black braid trailed her spine as perfectly manicured hands, nails the color of crimson, snuck out from beneath silken kimono fabrics. Palm-faced up, she rested her hand upon the granite counter patiently awaiting her reward as she spoke in response. "I assure you that it was not a problem at all, my lord." Her voice filled his ears like sweet honey. "I am ever so grateful that I was able to assist you."

His husky chuckles echoed in the large room as he reached into the coat for a large white envelope. Flipping the flap, his thumb brushed across the numerous crisp sheets. Flipping it closed, he took a step closer and pressed the envelope into the soft feminine hand. As her fingers curled over the treasure, his hand found a firm grasp upon her small wrist, pulling her intimately closer. "Just so that we are clear, you shall forfeit all rights upon her. She will belong to me. You are to never see her or speak to her again. Any contact made by your part will result in your timely demise. Do we have an understanding?"

The beautiful woman shuddered at the treacherous tone of those dangerous words. Pressing her scarlet lips together she gulped her fears down and nodded once, twice in acknowledgement. "Yes, my lord. We have quite the clear understanding." Feeling him release her, she took two steps away and bowed her head. Hands tightly clasped over the bulging white envelope, held properly before her.

"Very good, my dear," he spoke with sound satisfaction. "Now, take your time and enjoy these last days with her. With the end of this fortnight, we shall meet again." Reaching out, his large hands took one glove off the counter at a time, slipping them on with meticulous precision. He grabbed the tip of his fedora and nodded to the woman before turning deftly on his feet and stepping out in the frigid weather.

Folding his hands and placing them beneath a bed of shimmering silver locks, large lavender eyes stared straight up. The glass ceiling gave way to the beautiful melancholic aura of the night. Chills of rage and restlessness tickled his spine. Bending his left leg, his foot tapped away softly upon the large blankets of the bed, melodies that twirled about, reverberating inside of him.

As the millions of liquid drops splashed against the glass, his mind wondered off on a journey of deep contemplation of the future that awaited him. If he defied his father now, then a long life of tragedy will forever follow him, like an excruciatingly deformed limb. But if he obeyed the elder, then a life of freedom and self-preservation will be his for the taking. An opportunity to follow his truest desires, or the curse of living as a livid corpse? The best choice was blatantly obvious, yet his heart still bore the ill burden of indecision.

Three perfect knocks rattled upon his door. Fingers tightening beneath his head, he closed his eyes and spoke solemnly. "Yes mother." As the double doors opened, a beautiful woman with long hair the color of glistening snow strode into the room. After spending a few pleasant moments ignoring her, he shifted and looked upon her.

Soft lips the color of mauve parted as a smile spread across her face. "Your father has found the perfect match, my dear." Her voice held the grace and smoothness of a woman of class and noble birth. Sweeping her long robes around the large bed, she sat beside her son, resting a pale hand upon his knee.

He looked down at the physical contact and then scoffed. Brushing her away, he glared at her with a sneer. "You say this as if it is something to be celebrated," he snapped with disgust. "I am only doing this so I won't have to spend my life living under his chains."

The graceful beauty sighed despairingly. "I know." She said quietly, simply. Standing up, she decided that any joy from this union was nothing more than a useless hope. She walked back over to the double doors. Grabbing the handles, she observed her son carefully, who disinterestedly laid back down, large eyes lost to the storm ahead. "I know this isn't what you want, but we all make sacrifices. It's all a part of growing up, my dear. You may hate us now, but understand that later you will learn to be grateful." With those final words, she pulled the doors closed leaving the teen in his lonely ruminations.

A/N: Many of you who are regulars will wonder why I'm writing a third story since I already have two in the works. This was a story that I was working on for someone very close to me. It was her idea that she really wanted to see as a story. Unfortunately we did not get to finish it and recently she passed away, unable to read it in its entirety. This story is for her. It may not get updated as frequently as the others, but it's dear to me and I wanted to share it. Take care friends. – Love, Add.