Author's Note: this is the SEQUEL to Lily flowers and Eternity. This story will make a lot more sense if you've read the first story. I won't be posting again for two weeks but once I do updates will be weekly. Feel free to review, I always like hearing from readers.

Enjoy :)

"Do you think that one day, maybe, this will all be over and we'll live somewhere far away by the ocean and be happy until we die old and wrinkled and senseless?"

The blade of grass was smooth between his fingers and he grinned lightly, looking into a face so familiar, eyes filled with a hope they didn't really believe. "Of course." He said. "We'll grow old and reminisce on our travels and argue about which bird in the yard has been watching us."

The sun beat down on them, warm and comforting as infectious laughter bubbled in the air. Every breath tasted fresh, clean, and sanguinity filled him as they dozed in the sunlight. The hand in his suddenly squeezed tightly, unwilling to release him. He rolled onto his side, keeping their fingers interlocked.

"I like that."

A warm breeze rustled the grass.

"Me too."

"Nolan . . ."

Nolan!

"Nolan!"

Nolan blinked and shuddered as he looked up, wide-eyed. Jasper was holding his dirt covered arms in his cold grip, crouching on the ground in front of him. They were surrounded by trees and the quiet made his breaths seem louder than they were. His sleep pants were covered in dirt and Nolan exhaled slowly as he relaxed. Jasper's bottomless eyes stared at him in worry and expectation, reading his emotional state. "Why did you stop me? Is something wrong?"

Jasper's grip loosened. "You started to bleed."

He looked down at his hands. They were indeed bleeding, turning the black dirt on his skin into a thick, pasty substance, tinted red by the cuts on his hands. Nolan looked to the hole he had been digging. Chunks of dirt were scattered around him, evidence to just how wildly he'd been tearing at the ground. He pressed his hand to the cool earth, swallowing thickly, then stood. No matter how many times he'd awakened to find himself in the middle of the forest, it always sent a chill through his bones every time it happened. He flexed his fingers, feeling the skin knitting itself back together. He looked up and nodded reassuringly to Jasper, His Jas, bless him. Despite voicing his worries he was there every time, making sure he was alright and even going as far to awaken him from the strange sleep-walking episodes when they escalated, regardless of the risk of his power lashing out and harming him. Now that he was no longer asleep the hollow place in his chest made Nolan blatantly aware it was there, the missing half of himself. Nolan wiped his hands on his sleep pants, already bearing dirt stains.

"You can go home. I'm okay."

Dark brows drew together from under a disarray of blonde locks. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes. I just need to walk for a bit."

Jasper was in front of him then, scrutinizing him acutely. Nolan opened himself to the vampire completely, not trying to resist his emotional querying. They stood eye to eye, Nolan no longer shorter than his mate. After a moment cool lips captured his deeply before they were gone and he was alone, lips tingling faintly. He absently kicked some dirt into the hollow he'd dug with his bare foot before turning and began to walk. These occurrences had begun over a year ago, after Anala . . . . Nolan shuddered as his heart ached. They were sporadic, once or twice at first after a few weeks but now they came constantly, several times a week, leaving him to wake up deep in the forest covered in soil and surrounded by holes and loose dirt. Nolan walked aimlessly, listening to the quiet. He could sense another, silent in the trees above, and a small smile touched his lips at his ever watchful shadow. Nolan couldn't see the man but Elias was there, somewhere above him. There was a soft shuffling ahead and Nolan paused, listening. There was wet tearing and grunting. Nolan walked a bit faster and peeked around a large tree.

A large hulking form towered over a dead buck. Fur so black it gleamed like an oil slick shimmered as the creature shifted, large white teeth tearing into red meat. The colossal wolf straightened and looked over at him, piercing red gaze locking on him as he licked his bloody muzzle. Nolan sat at the tree base as the wolf returned to his meal. Javan was still Javan despite everything. A couple of weeks after that night Javan had returned from Italy, Nolan still didn't know exactly why or what the Volturi wanted him for but the vampire had always had no problem making his dislike for them clear and when he returned he had been full of rage and inertia. Nolan hadn't been able to tell him, everything that had been building: the pain and anger and hate of the unfairness of it all came flooding to the surface and Nolan could do nothing but weep on his shoulder as he hugged the frozen form against him. How could he do it? How could he explain to Javan, Javan, that the past several months had been filled with preparation for war? That he and his sister were ancient creatures and that Carus took Anala? How could he possibly tell him that Anala . . . The thought alone still upset him. Javan had been devastated and Nolan was in no condition to even begin consoling him. He had felt his soul tear, half of it shredding and blistering, charring away to nothing, leaving him frighteningly numb. Nolan had felt like he were dying, his very essence rending him apart. But Javan's steady presence helped anchor him like it always had just by being in the room. The pain was just a bit easier to bear with him back. He was closer than family. To make matters worse, Rowan died a few days later. He hadn't seemed physically ill, at least Carlisle could find nothing but Rowan's body had simply just shut down, bit by bit. When they had returned from what had been Carus's fortress the blonde was delirious, fevered and half-conscious and it worsened as the weeks passed. Elias's words had sent a pit of dread plummeting in his stomach.

"What's going to happen to him?"

Elias shook his head, amber eyes clouded in worry. "I don't know." He whispered lowly, as if unwilling to speak the words aloud. "A Vayar has never outlived their creator."

That had been before he knew, before he had come into his power and regained his memories. They all said Rowan would have never lived, murmured to each other in the days before his death and Nolan couldn't understand why they would say such things, how they could say something like that about someone they cared about. A Vayar's life lasted as long as its creators, that was the simple truth. If Rowan died then Anala was gone, something he remembered later on but to him, it didn't prove a damn thing. Nolan didn't accept that she was just gone like that. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Carlisle had tried everything and Nolan had felt for the man. No one should go through that sort of pain, especially not someone like Carlisle. To lose his brother and become reunited with him after more than two hundred years, only to have him ripped away from him again months later seemed like a cruel cosmic joke. A large furry head dropped in his lap and Nolan looked down as he laid a hand on the warm, heavy mass.

"Hey Jay." For a wolf, he was much like a cat. Lazy and fluid and unconcerned with things outside his own little world but Nolan knew there were many layers to the man inside this great beast. He spent months pouring over Anala's sketchbooks with him as he was the only one who could make heads or tails of the seemingly meaningless images, trying to find something, anything. It was bittersweet for them, among the pages of random, jumbled images were drawings. Drawings of trees and plants, of him and Javan and in the more recent books, of all of them: Esme and Carlisle in a love seat, a portrait of Rosalie, some of him and Jasper, of Edward and Alice and Emmett and even Rowan and Elias and Zain among others. Page after page of beautiful, detailed images made by her hand. The vampire had found nothing that would help but it was nice to look through them, to see the things she'd been creating. Nolan sighed and patted Javan's giant head.

"Come on. I've got a long day tomorrow."

Javan stood, shaking out his fur before he was bounding away, presumably to chase down some other poor creature for his wolf to feast on. Nolan rolled his shoulders, feeling the skin of his back shift and stretch and split as his wings burst forth. He grimaced lightly at the initial pain then sighed and relaxed as he stretched the appendages from confinement. It had taken time to adjust to having wings again, and if he were honest with himself he still wasn't quite used to them, it wasn't easy integrating his forgotten life with his most recent one. Nolan saw things differently now. Or maybe he was seeing them as he used to, he couldn't quite tell. Nolan was skilled in the art of War. He had commanded an army he had carefully handpicked himself, struck down enemy after enemy, ruled and protected his people. But Nolan had also grown up with three witches, he had traveled the continents and drove a car and obsessed over old movies and subsisted among humans when he wasn't holed away against his will. Stuck between two realities as he was, Nolan often found himself in turmoil with himself, caught between an almost human man and the powerful creature he was by birthright. He was almost ashamed by how weak he had been. Of course he hadn't known it at the time but he was Nolan Cathari, Ahrahn of the Layame and one of the Marked, he had laid waste to much more powerful forces than measly demons yet he had been captured and tortured by them for the majority of this life. Fucking sickening. He paused. There it was again, Nolan mused as his wings flapped powerfully, lifting him high off the ground. That odd tone in his thoughts.

You can go Eli. I'll be fine.

Alright. He missed Rowan. Nolan could feel it every day. Elias and Rowan had been extremely close, his relationship with the blonde had always been something they both cherished greatly and the loss had changed the auburn-haired Vayar. He was quieter, less blithe than he was before.

Nolan inhaled the cold air, feeling goose bumps rise on his skin. The earth was becoming farther and farther. He took off at break-neck speeds, the earth below a green and brown blur. He flashed over what he had once called home, the house dark and quiet, sending a painful jolt through his chest that he pushed away. It had been repaired after the attack but he had only returned there once, Javan was the only one to occupy it now. He landed on the roof of the large structure of the Cullen household. He could feel the thrum of energy, the presences of each person in the house. He summoned water from the nearby river, washing the dirt from his hands and feet. Nolan padded across the roof as his wings returned into his flesh and lightly swung down, hanging by his fingertips as he glided into the open hall window silently in one smooth motion. He entered his and Jasper's bedroom, stripping before the door even shut completely. He felt the air stir lightly before cold hands touched his sides, along the pattern of black markings on his skin and around to the ones on his sternum. Lips fluttered over his throat, over the scar those sharp teeth had left on him, a claim.

"You smell like the wind and dirt and the river . . . and Wolf."

"Javan's out there, most likely chasing a poor rabbit and tearing it apart."

"Sounds nice."

Nolan grinned. "Doesn't it?"

He turned and tilted his head a bit. Jasper was regarding his naked form, moving to circle him like a lion and its prey. Nolan's grin widened at the challenging look in his eye. He was not the only predator in the room but it was fun to watch him, to watch each other. He moved to the bed, collapsing against the soft covers sighing and shutting his eyes. It was late, or early depending on the direction he chose to go and while he needed less sleep than he used to, Nolan was tired. He could sense Jasper heading for the door and he smiled, knowing he'd be nearby.

"do you think that one day, maybe, this will all be over and we'll live somewhere far away by the ocean and be happy until we die old and wrinkled and senseless?"

Nolan rolled onto his side as he slipped into sleep.

Maybe, sister. Maybe . . .