"You know that this is the last time."
I'm not sure if it was a question or a statement. I don't want to believe it either way. I'm willing to indulge in my little fantasy for the time being. I refuse to acknowledge her sentence, knowing my heart is breaking bit by bit as dawn draws closer. There is nothing I won't give just to spend eternity with her beside me.
Earlier I watched her say goodbye to our friends. We had a small gathering at the Dàl Riata, just the few of us who grew as a family over the years. Even Tamsin had broken down, suggesting some insane plan of rescuing her and driving off into the sunset. Hah, as if I didn't already try. Once that woman made up her mind, it was hard to change the course of her thoughts. I kept to myself in the bar, letting her mingle and reconnect. If the last week was any indication of how bad my mood was, I'm sure tonight I had a neon sign above my head, telling everyone to stay the hell away from the whiskey-filled succubus.
I watched her hug Dyson, thanking him for putting in good words with the Council of Elders. I watched her bow before Trick, saying that she has always wanted to pay respects to the Blood King. Trick hurried her up and told her she was family while looking at me. He did great by me tonight and I'm more than thankful to have him as my grandfather. There was an awkward hug between Tamsin and her, both rigidly wishing each other the best. Then there even one with Vex, who was actually trying hard not to cry; and one with Evony, who was the butt of all jokes tonight as she was covered in Eau de Skunk Ape.
I think it was then that I realized that her laugh was different. It wasn't one of those well-practiced, guarded laughs. It flowed freely from her chest; a hearty, booming chortle that was unlike her usual self. Or maybe I had never had the privilege of knowing this side of her. Or maybe I'm just ignorant enough to never have noticed. Or maybe this was just her accepting the situation.
She reaches out to touch my face and I break from my reverie. I nuzzle into her warm hand. She smiles and I manage to return a weak one. She tells me to cheer up, that we have till morning. My heart clenches but again, I give her a smile, not trusting my voice at the moment to not give away the turmoil bubbling so close below the surface.
I hold her hand in mine, silently willing her to be less stubborn and accept my carefully laid plans. I look into her eyes, quietly hoping she can understand where I'm coming from and how much I love her. I breathe her scent in, committing the smell of fresh laundry and citrus disinfectant to memory. My god, she is beautiful, inside and out. I don't think I have ever been so taken by someone. Yet now that someone is being taken from me.
I had raged at first, running to the Dark compound demanding an answer. I had cleared her name earlier, with Evony's testimonial, but apparently that wasn't enough for the bloody Elders. They called for blood on the account that she already broke the law when she ran from the Light. So I offered mine, only to receive death threats against my family instead. The death of many versus the death of one: of one woman who I love more than anyone I've ever met, who goes above and beyond to make me realize how it is to be deserving of love, who saves my life time and again.
Of course I chose her.
I would always choose her. I'm not stupid enough to make that mistake again.
If only I could go back in time.
If only I told her that she was my choice all along, never him. If only I fought harder and faster to get back to her, to right all the wrongs that I didn't manage the first time. If only I stayed that night, fighting her at every turn when she wanted to give us up. If only I put her before everything else, letting her know that she was first in every aspect of my life. If only I was human, my biology be damned. If only - if only - I realized all these things sooner.
As Kenzi would have quoted, "Regret is for suckers."
Regret is useless now. Regret can't possibly make anything better. Regret can't possibly save us now. I'm helpless and she is more than willing to dive head first to take the blame and resolve the mess I assisted with. We both apologised enough times to last our combined lifetimes. We both forgave each other's stupidity and naivety. We both understood the literal, impending death of our relationship.
Words meant nothing now.
We stare out the window, each of us deep in thought. I want to reach over and hold her, tell her that I'm more than willing to make good on the promise to keep her safe. Fuck it all. Fuck everyone else. I can't see myself living in a world that she isn't a part of. I want to shake her, tell her to snap out of it and realize how much I want this; how much I want us. I want to slap her, yell at her for giving up so easily.
A song begins to play on the car radio, halting my disarrayed train of thoughts. It perfect for a slow waltz. I leave the car and appear on her side, holding my hand out to her. She reads my mind and takes my hand, letting me lead her to the clearing. Reaching back into the car to turn up the volume, I catch sight of her and am immediately blown away by the beauty she is. My breath catches. Her blonde locks are liquid gold, moving gently with the wind. Her lips are curled, in the middle of a mischievous smirk. Her honey-brown eyes are full of emotion, twinkling with the renewed energy and hope I clearly did not have.
Her body presses against mine as we slow dance. We start swaying to the music, humming along to the soulful crooning. I'm content to just hold her because I don't know what else to do. I have so much to say, I have so much to tell her but my voice refuses to cooperate. I nuzzle into her neck, granting myself access to a scent that is hers alone. Tears start to well up in my eyes.
No, I can't start now. I won't be able to stop and this isn't any way to end a date, much less our last one. My tears have been threatening to fall since I heard the final verdict from the Elders. They had sentenced her to die as a traitor to the fae, despite all the pleas from the Morrigan, the patients she had taken care of, and our friends. It only served to strengthen their verdict that she needed to be put to the sword, questioning how she was able to inspire such loyalty.
I can answer that easily: it's the way she is. She is loving and brave, noble and strong. There is no greater testament of woman anywhere than the one standing before me and I'm proud - so damn proud - of her.
What truly broke my heart then was the defeated look in her eyes. Yes, she stands taller and prouder. Yes, the smiles she has now reaches her beautiful eyes. Yes, she is less afraid to show her emotions and affections. But that resigned look haunts her features that I can see so clearly, it kills me. I told her about my decision then, and she yelled at me for being so brash, for putting everyone in danger again when we just survived such a close brush with it. I thought I had done the right thing - finally putting her before all else - and I still think I chose correctly, but she tells me she's too tired. She doesn't want to fight anymore, she is too worn out to continue this never-ending tirade of bullshit from the fae, she's too jaded to keep on in this indentured torture of her apparent human frailty and this is her release, albeit a morbid one.
It's like she has always known that this is the only way out for her and she accepts it readily without challenge. I fought her, to keep her fighting but she tells me that these are her last requests: to let her and to make tonight one to last the ages.
How do I say no to the love of my life?
I'm jolted back to the present when her hands pull me in closer. I plant little kisses along her jawline, each one making its way closer to her lips. They find mine, brushing softly and I shiver. Her tongue probes at my lips, gently asking for permission that I'm always too willing to give. My hands get lost in the blonde waves, pulling her deeper into the kiss. The air around me stills, the blood rushes to my ears, my heart pounds twice as fast. As with every kiss before this, it was magical. As with every touch before this, it was gentle and loving. As with every moment before this, it was breath-taking.
The ringing from my phone startles us both. I look down and mouth a sorry to her, my breath not catching up just yet. I'm flustered and bothered and more than tempted to toss the phone into the pits of hell. Sighing, I read the message demanding we be back at her apartment. I want to roll my eyes, honestly, what was a few more minutes? What is the worst they could do to us now?
"We could run," I try again, imploring her to consider. My voice is small but the urgency in it can't be mistaken.
She only shakes her head before getting into the car. My heart crumbles a little more. Foolishly I had believed that her mind could be changed, knowing full well that she is more stubborn than I am. I want to fight it, I want to stop it, I want to take her somewhere - anywhere. I try to make her understand that we could escape this madness and flee as fugitives, despite the shallow definition of the grand, romantic life we envisioned together.
The ride back to the holding apartment is a quiet one. We're linked physically but I'm sure our minds couldn't be further away from each other than right now. We get out of the car and wordlessly take the elevator. There is a guard outside her place and almost stops me from going in with her. I only glare at the poor bastard, daring him to deny me passage. I understand that he just defied his orders but this night is too important to me and I never followed the rules anyway. Fae laws be damned. The Elders and the Council be damned. I want to be as selfish as possible tonight. I deserve it after all.
She heads to her bathroom upstairs, telling me to grab two glasses and a bottle of her favourite red. I oblige, easily finding the chilled wine and glasses. Since she had been put on trial, they moved her back to her old apartment in the Light fae compound, reasoning that her previous… masters are more trustworthy.
I look around the apartment, reminders of us are everywhere. The stone kitchen island where I said "I love you" for the first time in my life, and had someone say it back to me. The light cream couch where I snuggled into her, watching one of those B movies and had a running commentary about blood spatters and wounds complimentary of Dr. Lauren Lewis. The painting of a naked woman that made her laugh at me when I blushingly giggled at it. The dent at the bottom of the stairs, where we were too hurried to get to her bed, too busy tearing clothes off each other, too turned on to care about anything else.
I swallow thickly, trying to rein in my tears. I wonder what would happen to this place after she is… gone. Maybe I could convince the new Ash to let me live here. Or maybe I could buy it and have a part of her forever with me. A side of me understands that this isn't a good idea, for I'd be trapped in her lingering presence forever. Another side of me understands that, even without this physical reminder, she would undoubtedly be forever a part of me.
Suddenly it hits me that this is our punishment as much as it is our escape; these final moments together.
For her, death is it. There was no alternative or getaway or backup plan. This was it. For me, I know I could never be as happy again. My heart had surrendered itself to her long before my brain caught up. I'm more than sure now that she is the love of my extremely long fae life. I love every part of her - that stubborn, willful woman with excellent dry wit. Others may have seen her as clinical, cold, and condescending but once you peeled the layers back to peek behind the scenes - the warm, caring, wonderful woman she is - it's incredible and beautiful.
Speak of the devil, she surprises me from behind, wrapping her arms around my waist. I push back into her embrace, tilting my head to kiss her cheek. She turns her lips to align with mine as her hands begin to slither their way upwards. The soft kiss sends an almost paralyzing shiver up my spine. I shudder and feel my breath hitch. She massages my breasts and trails little kisses across my back. I open my mouth to ask her if this is what she truly wanted only to be hushed by another kiss. Releasing my lips, I watch her skilled fingers tweak and play with my hardening nipples, I can't help but moan her name. One hand goes south, expertly undoing my belt and jeans' button. She groans when she finds me ready for her, as I have been all night. Her fingers trace circles and I arch into her, telling her how good it feels with my body.
Turning around, I smirk when I find her completely naked. I guess the wine doesn't matter now. She bites her bottom lip in response to my reaction. God, this woman is beyond sexy. She pulls my shirt apart, buttons flying in all directions, clattering lightly on the ground. I raise my eyebrow at her sudden display of aggressiveness and she gives me a predatory grin. One of her toes hooks into the belt loops of my jeans and gives them a tug. I understand what she wants but I want to tease her. In less than a second, I hoist her up onto the stone counter. Between her legs I stand as we kiss, passionate and fiery. Her tongue fighting mine for dominance, for power, for strength - all of which I fight a little but eventually give in; I always give in to her. She is sneaky, pushing my jeans until it pools at my feet. How she multitasks like that, I'll never know.
Pulling me in for a kiss, she wraps her legs around my waist, grinding deep into me. She reaches behind me to unclasp my bra, freeing my breasts from their binding. I feel her stiffened nipples rub against mine and a gasp and shudder escape me. I can smell the thick, musky scent of our arousal as I go to touch her heated core. She stops me before I reach my destination and I look into her eyes, afraid she would turn me away.
"Patience," she leans forward and breathes into my ear.
I gulp, still not used to her being the dominant one during our trysts. This is what I love about her. She constantly surprises me in ways I never thought possible. She may have shown how much she loves to succumb to a succubus but suddenly flipping the table on me is so much more of a turn on than watching a 100-man orgy.
She leads me up the stairs and playfully pushes me onto the bed. I fall as gracefully as I can and shift backwards until there is enough room for her to crawl in between my legs. She nudges them wider apart with her own and leans in for a kiss. Her fingers touch and tease me as I moan into her mouth, writhing helplessly under her ministrations. Her fingers dance a wild number across my burning core, soothing yet arousing the almost insatiable flame in between my thighs. I wonder if she's ever played an instrument when her nimble digits bring me close to an unforeseen climax. The thought disappears when I beg her not to stop while she paws at my breast with the free hand and flicks at my nipple with her tongue. And just when I'm about to come undone, she stops.
I look at her with frustrated confusion, my breath laboured and my chest heaving. I'm completely at her mercy now. I need that orgasm. I need her to finish what she started. I need her. I tell her with my eyes, pleading silently for her to touch me more. She only chuckles softly and guides my hand to her dripping folds. I let out a moan as I feel how ready she is for me, my fingers tracing her engorged clit, eliciting murmurs of pleasure and approval from her lips.
Pulling her onto the bed and rolling us so that I'm on top, the tip of my tongue draws elaborate patterns down her chin, down her jaw, down the valley between her breasts. My pace is agonizing and slow, alternating between licking her nipples and rolling them between my fingers. She pushes me down further, this time her turn to stare at me longingly, soundlessly imploring me to where she wants me the most. My tongue trails past her navel and back up again, laughing when she grunts and pushes me back down. This is how we've always been - easy and wordless; each knowing the other's body well enough to respond to the subtle little signs. She needs me now and as much as I love teasing her, I want to own her tonight. I want to mark her as my own. I want to take her in every way possible.
She throws her head back and breathes my name when my tongue finds the right spot. I want her to scream. I want her to yell my name out, as if nothing else existed. I want her to let go of all her inhibitions, because tonight was our last. I trace circles around her swollen clit and my fingers tease her moist entrance. Forgotten was my need, for only hers was important now. Forgotten was my frustration, for only hers was of significance now. Forgotten was my excitement, for only hers mattered now.
My fingers are coated in her desire as I push into her. She lets out a strangled cry, moaning my name loudly and I swell with pride. She doesn't care about the guard outside any longer and I don't envy him either. Hearing such sexual noises would drive anyone insane, especially for me when they came from the stoic, stern blonde doctor. I almost come when she tells me to never stop, her eyes clouded with pure lust as she stares into mine. My tongue laps at her faster, holding the sensitive bundle of nerves between my lips; my hand increasing its pace while her hips match mine, thrust for thrust. I'm pulled back up for a kiss and she easily slips a hand between us. The contact makes me jump a little before settling into her expert fingers playing with my dripping core. I'm unable to stifle a loud moan when she thrusts her fingers into me, as though she knew I'm edging close to release.
"Come with me, Bo," she looks at me and says. "Make me yours."
And I do. I kiss her with reckless abandon as we are mere thrusts away from finishing. She kisses me back hard. I feel her insides tighten around me and her legs begin to shake. A scream of my name followed by hers shreds the silence of her apartment. Pure euphoria rushes through my veins as an onslaught of almost unbearable pleasure shoots up my spine. I collapse onto her, nuzzling into her neck. We bathe in the afterglow of our lovemaking, giggling and holding each other.
"I love you," I say. "I love you so much."
"I love you too," she whispers back.
The kiss that follows is one filled with equal parts love, longing, and understanding. When words failed, our kisses always make up for the lack of them. I pour my heart into it, tasting her in more ways than one. We only break apart for air and a satisfied grin is plastered on both our faces. She snuggles into me when I roll off her and she lays her arm languidly across my abdomen, pressing a kiss to my temple. The simple action conveys her protectiveness for me, her possessiveness over me, her love to me. I'm right: words meant nothing when her actions conveyed so much more.
I doze off only to wake up in panic.
Thank god she's still beside me. I check the digital clock on her nightstand to find that I had only been asleep for about 40 minutes. It's more than enough rest for me, after all I've been restless since this 24-hour grace period had started. I lean over and give her a kiss and she smiles sleepily, mumbling about isotopes.
The ground is cold to my feet when I leave the bed. I wrap one of the kimonos I leave at her place around myself as I descend the stairs into the kitchen. I pour myself a glass of red when I reach the counter. My lips smiling on their own accord at the thought of what just transpired: the sex was mind-altering. My legs tremble slightly as a pulse of lust washes over me in response to the orgasm. It wasn't like we never had sex before, but it felt like the first time all over again, with the added benefit of familiar curves and experienced fingers.
This is supposed to happen that night she asked me for a break. This is the way I should have showed her how much I love her, how I could never bear to leave her, how stupid I've been. This is exactly why we're so good together. People always say sex isn't an answer to things, but I beg to differ. I may not be credible, since I'm part of a mythical species that feeds off sexual energy, but good sex leads to communication. There's a tender understanding beneath all the moans and groans of pleasure, almost like being held in reverence when she looks into my eyes and tells me to never stop, to never give her up. It's both beautiful and sensual.
I idly pull open one of the drawers she has at her mini-lab table and spy a blue box. Holding it carefully, I contemplate whether to invade her privacy or not. Was this from another girlfriend she forgot to mention? Or perhaps a fiance this time? Or simply a part of her past she has yet to disclose? My dread and excitement grow in equal proportion as I lift the cover.
A thin, silver chain with a ring as a pendant is revealed. It's beautiful. It symbolises her love for me - simple, straightforward and true. A note is folded inside and the tears I've been holding off all night makes their debut as I read it.
For giving me the freedom to love.
And I do.
Forever yours,
L
I clutch the necklace close to my chest, as though willing it to weld onto my skin. The cool metal heats up quickly as my tears fall freely. Despite the blur, my eyes dart to the clock that reads 4:23 a.m. This is it.
The crippling worry threatening to overwhelm me begins to take over. Honestly, who am I kidding. I'm going against every fibre of my instinct to battle our way out of this and as much as I want to fulfill her last requests, I just want to knock her out and run off with her. I need to fight, I need to stop this, I need to take her away. I can't just sit back and play the willing girlfriend sending the love of her life into an execution! I begin to pace when I realize how ridiculous this idea had been from the beginning. The only one that made any sense was Tamsin when she drunkenly suggested her plans.
I have to act now.
"Bo?" her voice travels from the bedroom and I freeze.
Is there enough time for me to do this? Do I have the strength to do this? Is she even willing? Stupid question, of course she isn't. But I know no other alternative. I have to act now.
"Bo?" she calls again. "Is everything okay?"
I trot up the stairs, chanting to help me calm down. I sit at the edge of the bed and reach for her hand. Her eyes are still closed but her mouths quirks upward into a smile when she senses my presence. The thin covers barely keep anything hidden as my eyes trace her lithe body. I brush stray strands of blonde hair from her flawless face, my fingertips linger on to caress her cheek. She smiles as I cup her cheek. The dim moonlight accents her sharp jaw and her elegant neck, making my breath hitch.
Hell if I'm going to actually go down without a fight.
I have no idea why I promised her in the first place but I never go down without a fight, and this time it's a fight for the love of my life. This time I choose her.
"We're going to run."
"What?!" she shoots upright.
"We're going to run," I repeat.
"Bo, we discussed this!" she hisses. "You promi - "
"I've lost Kenzi, I can't lose you too. I love you, and I'm sorry."
She looks confused and scared. I steel my resolve when I imagine my life without this woman. I can't live without her. This is what I want to. This is what I have to. This is I need to. Even if it meant running forever. Even if it meant being hunted forever. Even if it meant there would never be a moment of peace.
At least I had her.
I take her hands into mine and pulse her with enough energy that she knocks out straight away. As she falls back onto the soft mattress, I dial up Tamsin. I mutter a muted thanks to my lucky stars when she picks up. I tell her in a hushed, desperate whisper of my plans. Being the rebellious valkyrie she is, she cheers and whoops appropriately, wholeheartedly agreeing with my plan. I arrange for her to pick up some necessities and to meet us in an hour.
I slipped out the door and sent another energy pulse into the guard, thralling him in the process. He looks at me with his dazed, lovelorn eyes and obeys me as I order him to pack essentials. I pull out drawer after drawer, clearing articles of clothes out and tossing them to him to pack.
Something makes a crack, so loud it actually makes me jump and Lauren stir a little. I reach over to pulse her with a little more energy. I'm not proud of this but this is for her own good. She would protest against my plans the best she can, and as much as I know this is the only way, knowing me, I'd probably give in to her.
The back panel of her cupboard had made the noise. It seems to have been dislodged in my scramble to grab our clothes. I reach in with my dagger to pry it open. I'm not sure what I'd find there, I'm just hoping it's not a rat's nest or a shrine to an ancient fae-god.
What the hell is she hiding back here?
I gasp when a backpack falls forward, revealing rolled stacks of cash. There is easily seven grand in here. I want to wake her up and clarify my findings but this can wait. I'm not even sure if it's all hers. But my question is answered when I look into the bag to find even more cash and a couple of fake identities, complete with passports and all the right cards.
Somehow, I fall deeper in love with the woman than I thought I could. It's actually horrifying that she has so many different aliases and identities. Is Lauren Lewis even her real name? No, not the time for this. All this can wait till later. I need to move faster if I'm going to use this opportunity that no one has taken any notice to the missing guard or the deathly quiet apartment. I can't even be bothered to hide my movements from the hidden cameras any longer, because I mean, who else is going to try to run away with their girlfriend on the night of their execution but me, right?
My phone vibrates and it's Tamsin. I look around the apartment once more, making sure to throw her phone and her goddamn dog-collar necklace in the bin. I'm going to miss this place but we have to go. I wipe away a tear that slips from my eye, thinking about the ragtag family I have here, dead or alive: Kenzi, Dyson, Hale, Trick, even Vex and Evony. There is no promise that I'll ever see them again, and the less they know about this, the less trouble would appear at their doorstep. Plausible deniability or something Dyson mentioned once.
I tell the guard to take our bags to Tamsin as I lift Lauren carefully from the mattress, wrapping the sheet around her. I feel a little bad that I knocked her out while she was still naked, but had I asked her to put on clothes, or actually had the time to think, either of us would have put a halt to my plans.
I reach the vehicle Tamsin had procured. I'm glad she's smart enough not to use the old Camaro. It's the longest bit of my past I held on to and has been a makeshift home throughout the years I ran. But it's also a piece of junk and too conspicuous. Before me is a navy blue, comfortable six-seater that probably belonged to a soccer mom with more than enough room for the three of us.
After carefully placing Lauren in the backseat and helping Tamsin with our runaway bags, I pulse the guard once more, taking a little of his chi to replenish my energy. I whisper instructions to him and watch him stagger back to his post to keep up appearances for as long as possible.
"So, where to?"
"Anywhere, valkyrie, anywhere but here," I sigh and she starts driving.
The sun rises slowly, chasing the night away. The light filters softly through the trees as we speed away from the city. I toss our cellphones out the window when we enter the expressway. This is going to be a long ride.