Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my created characters :)
This fic is not centered around the main characters of either Wicked Lovely, or Twilight. This is not fic for readers that are dead set on canon pairings. Enjoy & review
"Forks."
"If that's what you want."
"It's what I want." Her hazel eyes glittered uncontrollably.
"So be it."
"First and foremost, she is not to have any contact with any faeries, except you.
She must live a normal human life until her time of Change.
She must not be outside when there is sun.
She must not harbor any positive and sincere relationships.
You must encourage relationships that you see will have a negative impact on her.
You must keep her from bodily harm.
She is to be bound to you; yours to control in extreme cases. But this Power is not be abused, else it will enforce Change… do you understand, Xavier?"
I nodded my head slowly, and then bowed.
"Yes"
"Good. Now carry out your mission"
And I did just that.
I stared at the sun streaming through the window. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the rays on my face. Very rarely did I ever get to enjoy the sun. Apparently the sun was bad for me, I didn't know how or why, but Xavier told me so, so it must be true. I yearned to go outside because I knew this would be one of the very few times I would be able to experience sun in this new town. The town was too green, too barren, and so small. But I chose it; its name had seemed so unique to me. Forks, what a weird name for a town. I giggled at the name, Forks, as I twisted my hand and put it directly in front of a large stream of sunlight. I remembered heat like this before, flashes of memory came here and now, but they never seemed like bad memories. I wondered why Xavier had prohibited it - he must've been mistaken. I decided to get up and open the curtains. As my hand started to feel the silky, filmy texture of the organza material, a searing pain shot up my arm. I pulled my hand back like I had been burned; tears began to well in my eyes. How could that have happened by just touching a curtain? I cradled my hand, which now felt limp and dulled with a searing pain. A shadow was suddenly overcast my slouched figure, and I looked up.
"I thought I told you to stay away from the sun." Xavier did not sound impressed.
"I thought it would be harmless because I was inside," I said, in a vain attempt at an excuse. He frowned in response and offered me his hand. I stared back into his green eyes and held his gaze. Xavier raised an eyebrow at me as if to ask if I was planning on getting up anytime soon. I shook my head, and he scooped me up bridal style, effortlessly, being careful of my injured arm. He took me upstairs into my new room, which had yet to be decorated; the only piece of furniture was my round canopy bed with flowing lace material fluidly falling over the posts. I glanced at the oversized Venetian window on the far wall of my bedroom, but sighed noisily when I saw the security lock on them.
"Don't start," Xavier muttered impatiently. I stayed silent, and looked at him again while he placed me on the bed. He raised my arm gently inspecting it. There was no physical damage on the surface and the pain had dulled slightly. He started to massage my arm gently between his hands. His palms were smooth but calloused.
"Does it hurt?" he asked in an aloof manner. But I could see the worry betrayed in his eyes, so intense it bordered on guilt. Weird.
"Yes." Xavier began to move his hand away, and I quickly said, "But don't stop. Please." I looked up into his eyes and held his gaze; his eyes impossibly green. He concentrated on massaging my arm as I looked him up and down; he usually ignored me when I stared at him. Xavier never seemed uncomfortable, usually just unaware, so I'd never stopped watching him. He had a tanned olive complexion, which never lost its impeccable golden tone,despite the change in season. My eyes trailed to his biceps that were flexing slightly back and forth due to the massage he was giving me. I always got a little dizzy- no a lot dizzy and nervous- when looking at his muscles. They were rounded and toned, but overall Xavier was lean and defined due to the extraneous activities and training he had to go through. I noticed that he did not bother with his glamour and now donned his preferred attire of all black. At the moment Xavier's raven black hair cut was shorn close to his head, but when he let grow out, his hair fell in soft black curls.
It would be an understatement to say that I found Xavier painfully attractive. His face was impeccably handsome and his eyes held an unwavering valiant look to them. He was aware of it too, and wherever we were around the mortal world the female population always noticed. It didn't make me jealous though, because his attention hardly ever wavered from me. That's not to say I haven't seen proof of his indiscretions when I haven't given him what he wanted, and he went to seek it somewhere else. At first I would shed tears, but eventually I got over it- over my petty jealousy- and accepted it as a consequence of withholding that particular physical act from him. He would always come back to me, so why did it matter? And I needed him more than life itself. Without him I would not be breathing; he lives for me, and I for him. What other choice did I have?
I noticed the massaging on my arm had stopped Xavier had stepped back to give me some respective space.
"I think your arm is feeling better," he stated as he started towards the door.
"Won't you stay with me?" I asked. I suddenly felt tired and laid against the pillows on my bed.
"If you would like me to," he answered in a questioning tone. I didn't respond. Instead I sat up on my bed and beckoned him towards me. I felt cold and lonely and needed his touch. Xavier came towards me. He seemed his usual self but somehow more alert and distant. I ignored it and decided to ask him about it later.
Xavier stood in front of me while I sat facing him on the bed. I removed my cloak and dropped it to the floor, leaving me dressed in my typical attire. It was a suede gold cloth that stopped mid thigh, unevenly longer and shorter sporadically. The same material wound around my whole upper body leaving my shoulders and neck bare. Xavier moved forward and began running his hands up and down my arms to stop my cold shivering.
"You're cold," he said. I nodded. He took my hand in his and kissed my palm softly. I began to feel his warped heat spread from my hand, up my arm and throughout my whole body. As he kissed my other hand the same heating sensation flooded through me, making every nerve I possessed tingle.
"Mm," I moaned. Xavier seemed to be encouraged by this and he started to trail slow kisses up my arm. My skin began to glow with the golden heat from his kisses. His trail of sunlight kisses stopped at my neck and he looked at me with a raised eyebrow, asking permission to proceed. I closed my eyes in submission. Xavier's warm lips met my forehead briefly, but were quickly replaced at my neck where he smothered me with his warm lips.
Xavier moved his muscular body between my legs and I wrapped my thighs around his torso to bring us closer, to share the growing heat we were creating. His sunlight always seemed so forced and askew or off kilter than my own. I placed my face under the line of his jaw and started my own frenzy of kisses on his neck. I could only transfer heat to him when we shared intimate moments like this.
The warmth in my stomach started to spread upwards and tingled throughout my body. Xavier growled at my growing response and hoisted me on to the bed laying his body over mine. He started running his hands up and down my sides, pouring heat in through the seams of my sides; his lips went further down my neck until he reached my collarbone. The kisses started to slow as he reached the valley of my breasts. Xavier stopped, and looked up expectantly to obtain approval, his hands running down my sides and touching my waist in ways that should be illegal. But his question had the default answer of my usual head shake. He scowled, and his hands went down to my hips where he started stroking his thumbs against them. I began to moan in thrill, but I took his hands in my own, kissed his palms and placed them on either side of my face.
We were now lying on our sides face to face on the bed. I could feel the silk material of the sheets on my thighs as I squirmed closer to Xavier. I inched my face towards him as if I was going to reach in for a kiss, and he made an O shape with his lips blowing softly on my face. A golden stream of sunlight with a myriad of black flakes sprinkled onto my face pleasuring me with all the delights of summertime: passionate nights, fields of perfumed wildflowers, fresh blossoms flowing in the wind. The smell of every tropical fruit shined on my face with that single gust of heat. But there was also that slight taint of darkness; misery and a contorted humidity. I writhed in his arms passionately and he had his arms grasped around my waist as a lover would. I let out one last moan of excited loud pleasure.
"Xavier," I murmured.
Suddenly I became limp with feverish delight and he held me close as I drifted off into a heavy, warm sleep.
I watched Zarina sleep for what seemed like an hour, probably longer, then tried to extricate myself from her entangled limbs, carefully, as not to wake her. She would never know what it did to me when she whispered my name like that - and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. I longed to touch her curves in wicked ways she would undoubtedly enjoy but never allow me to do. I glanced back at her slumbering figure as I headed towards the doorway. I could hardly remove my eyes from her; she was the most striking creature I had ever laid eyes on. I had known some beautiful females throughout my long existence and none of them even measured up to her. I shook the dazed look off my face and exited the room.
The moments we shared were always so forced on my part; giving Zarina the heat that she needed was against my very essence. I had dark blood flowing through my veins and having the sunlight manifesting itself in my body was draining, especially since she could hardly reciprocate the action back towards me. I stared at the mark on my wrist with anger. The imprint of the flaming dagger was dull, for now.
But brooding over my nature didn't remove the mental picture from my mind. I thought about Zarina constantly, whether I wanted to or not. Her cat-like hazel eyes flecked with gold sparkles. Her kinky, curly hair that tumbled down her back in vivid black ringlets, half her head streaked with golden curls that stood out starkly against the raven black. Her perfect lips were always just the right shade of pink, as if she had just been kissing someone, which had to be some kind of joke because we never once kissed. It was almost as if her lips had been designed for the soul purpose of teasing me. And her skin was like a caramel color that had tanned in the sun, her curvaceous body as if it had been sprinkled with golden shimmer. On her face - just her cheeks - were faded golden freckles. They were only ever noticeable to humans when she had a surge of emotion; which never really happened anymore. Ever since the overtake of power, she was now just a mere shadow of the fiery vixen she once was… my mind started to drift but I brought it back to reality.
Zarina should be knocked about for the next few hours, I thought to myself. I gave her enough of my tainted heat to last a week. The moments we shared were so intense, but so much more pleasurable to her than myself .My nourishment required a different source, I needed to feed off the corrupted and impure emotions of others, anything negative would do: fear, lust, greed, malice… If I needed to get my satisfaction I had to find some pathetic mortal girl to seduce, but one with a significantly defiled mind. Either way it was a huge disappointment because any mortal girls were frail in comparison to the goddess I had upstairs.
Suddenly I felt a burning sensation on the inside of my wrist. I looked down at my mark; it was flaming. I sighed and rushed to my private quarters. I picked up the black, metal mirror from the top of my desk. The carvings etched so elegantly around its edges slithered as I spoke the ancient tongue to release the magical seal on the mirror. It shone briefly, and then a face appeared. This was the only means of communication that the vampires used; anything else was not to be trusted. And they were too old fashioned and arrogant to pick up a telephone.
"Xavier."
"Aro," I nodded at the figure in the mirror.
"I take it you are settled?" Aro asked in a tone that was almost suspicious. I nodded in agreement. "Listen carefully Gancanagh. You must tread carefully in this area, I know that there is some of my kind there, and the ley lines are very active around this city. Be vigilant, and alert me at slightest suspicion."
"Nothing I can't handle," I said in a gruff voice. I was more than capable of handling my own with vampires.
Aro grew impatient. "Do not be foolish, Gancanagh," he paused as if for dramatic effect, "never has a mere faerie, especially a non-royal faerie, defeated a vampire. So please, spare me your antics." Aro's tone was cold.
I grew furious and retorted. "And never has a feeble vampire defeated a faerie, blood-demon," I reared back. He always bested me with emotions. Vampires were always so in check with their feelings, never letting on their true thoughts; immortality did that to them. But immortality is where the similarities stopped with our two races. Faeries experienced emotions differently than humans; we usually gave in to our feelings, good or bad, most times and were quite volatile and high-spirited. The essence of a faeries being was driven by their emotions, vampires spent their existence trying to dispel theirs.
Aro rolled his eyes impatiently, as if dealing with a child. "If you are done being petulant, heed to my instructions. Heed my instructions or you will pay," the vampire said with finality in his tone. Suddenly the mirror went blank, and I was faced with my own fury-laden eyes.
At that moment I wished that I could be the one that was destined to have the powers to destruct all vampires. Admittedly, Aro was correct, true, no faerie, not even an imperial could destroy a vampire. How I wished I could snap Aro's stone neck with his own hands. Oh yes, how I wished I had that power. But alas, that power was in the room down the hall, slumbering peacefully unaware of her oncoming future fate.
