Well, on the plus side I uploaded on a Monday! Granted it is a few weeks late, I apologize. I am a terrible person, but hopefully you'll be placated by the late night snuggling going on here. It just seems like in all of the stories I've read it's the girl that ends up snuggling against the guy so hey, why not switch things up and make an event that will never be mentioned again?

So hey, fan, favorite and comment y'all!

Much love,

Adara.

P.S. Nero is not mine. Unfortunately.

Chapter Four: Good Morning Sunshine.

Elora woke up only a few hours after falling asleep to one of the most awkward sensations she had ever had the displeasure of experiencing. She had been snoozing comfortably, without nightmares for a change—it was a welcome relief—when she felt the bed shift behind her. After years of being forced to endure unwanted interruptions to her sleeping habits, even the slightest of movements had her eyes snapping open. Her entire body tensed when she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle upwards as the distance between herself and her master lessened.

She had honestly expected him to have changed his mind about using her to scratch a biological itch, but was surprised when instead he curved his arms around her and hugged her tight. He spooned up behind her, pressing his long, muscular body against her back as he nuzzled his face in her hair. Elora barely dared to let the breath leave her lungs and she lay stiff as a board while she waited for him to do something more. But to her ever increasing surprise and puzzlement, he did not. He simply just held her tightly much in the same way she had held to her pillow some lonely nights when her heart ached dully, reaching out for something that she could not name.

Eventually her body relaxed enough that she could breathe regularly and allowed herself only the smallest bit of enjoyment at the sensation of being held. It felt good, warm, and for the briefest moment she wondered what it would be like to go to sleep being held like this every night. How nice it would be to have someone wrap their strong arms around her, or to fall asleep listening to the steady heartbeat of another human being. One who would protect her, joke with her and make her think… one who would tell her that they loved her.

Love you? How could anyone love you? Sure you've got a decent enough body, but it's probably too worn out to even get a man hard. Nobody's going to love you. Those scathing words echoed inside her head, not in her own voice but in her uncle's.

She tried to wiggle her way to freedom, but to no avail. The man behind her simply tightened his hold, and she could feel more than see the frown that was curving his lips. Heaving a sigh of defeat, Elora looked out the broken window at the night sky. The sounds of the slums was as familiar as it was comforting, and though she didn't feel tired she felt her eyes drifting closed.


The sounds of the slums whispered around her, a symphony all in its own, and she knew that no matter where they went, no matter what world they were in, the symphony would always be the same. Sure, the loud music being played might be of different notes, and the people screaming furiously at each other through the wall might have different accents, but it was all the same.

Except tonight was different, and the music was no longer soothing as it echoed in the terrified ears of a fourteen year old child. Footsteps pounded against the street, bare because in her haste she forgot the set of torn shoes she usually kept, pushed down a familiar path to the place she had called home for a few years.

"Take your siblings and go Ella, don't look back." The one and only order her father had given her that she'd ignored. She'd made sure that the others were hidden away safely, Sama could watch over them, and hurried back to the house desperate to find her father. The Folagairí had found them, elite soldiers and hunters of the royal family of Talasair, and her father was holding them off to buy them time. But she couldn't just leave without him, she was strong, her powers potent enough to help…

She saw the flames licking up the side of the building, striking her as unnatural. Fire shouldn't survive in an area composed of glass and metal, but the fire in itself was not natural. Just as sje neared closer to the building, an eardrum shattering explosion blew out the windows that lined the third floor. Her floor.

People scrambled out of the wreakage, conscious of the glass that rained down from the sky like glittering crystals. Elora paid it no mind, instead shoving through the crowd and making her way into the main lobby of the apartment complex. She ignored the bites of pain as she stepped on the glass and climbed the stairs two at a time, fighting against the stream of people who surged out.

"You can tell that bitch that she will not take my children from me!" Her father's voice echoed, instantly flooding her with calm even as she ran faster to find him.

"The queen of Talasair wishes that these abominations be put down. You commit treason coimhthíoch, which is punishable by death." Elora hid behind the wall, peering in through the doorway. The man who had spoken was dressed in all black, his face hidden save for his frighteningly red eyes. On his chest there was painted the royal seal, something her mother had shown her many times.

"I dare you. Try." Standing at almost seven feet tall, her father posed a strong image with his dark hair and muscular frame. Light blue energy snapped and licked at his fingers as he prepared two psychic bolts to fire at the man. Flames filled the corners of the room, creating a wall behind the assassin and Elora knew that there were more people hiding in the fire.

They stepped out, a semicircle of ten men, each with the flames curving around their arms and legs. Elora released a strangled cry, running to her father's side. At sixteen years old, she barely made it to his chest, and she felt the surprise rolling off of him.

"What are you doing here? I told you to run!" He snarled, standing infront of her protectively.

"I'm not letting you face this alone. I can help!" She growled, her own blue eyes turning red as she allowed her own psychic energy to pool. They were saved from any further conversation as the Folagairí moved forward in a graceful swarm.

Elora fought as though her very life depended on this victory when in actuality so much more did. Her father's life, and her younger siblings who were waiting for them. And two against ten were bad odds. Her father had a heavy nosebleed, and she knew that she was fairing much worse. She'd given up on using her Trisani abilities and was now relying solely on manipulating the elements around her. It was surprisingly easy to draw the moisture off their bodies and use the liquid against them, but she had always been weak in her water bending. She was getting tired, and it was only a matter of time before one of the Folagairí pushed her growing weakness.

It was impossible to distinguish which was which, but one sent a thin line of fire shooting at her with a speed she couldn't hope to perceive, couldn't hope to deflect. The thread pierced through her shoulder, burning through skin, bone and muscle. With a scream of pain she collapsed to the ground, drawing her father's attention.

"Elora! Bubble!" He shouted, his very skin starting to glow. She quickly drew a psychic shield around herself, fighting against the agonizing pain to keep it in tact as she felt the shockwave of pure force explode around the room in a blinding light. When it finally faded, the fire had been put out, and the Folagairí were strewn across the tattered remains of the room spread eagled. Elora cautiously opened her eyes, gaze falling on the prone figure of her father, who stared up at the ceiling with blank eyes.

"Dad? No! Oh goddess, please no!" She screamed, running to him and shaking him roughly. His chest rose and fell steadily, but there was blood leaking from his eyes, nose and the corner of his mouth. He remained completely unresponsive to her shouts, her shoves and her slaps. She knew, though she wasn't able to admit it, that in using the shockwave that had saved her life he had used up too much of his powers. His brain was completely fried and it was all her fault.

"Daddy… I'm so sorry." She cried, reaching around to grab the wooden handle of the knife he always kept at his side. The knife that had been passed down from his great grandfather to him. He was going to give it to her when she turned seventeen… Turning it, she watched the sparkle of the light on the blade before placing the tip gently over his heart.

"I love you…" She whispered, before applying the proper force that plunged it through skin and muscle, between the ribs and into his heart.


"NO!" With a startled scream Elora shot up in the bed, her loose shirt plastered to her sweat drenched body. It took a moment for her to take in her surroundings, her brow furrowed at the sight of a broken window before she recalled the events of last night. That moment was enough time for Nero to walk in from the bathroom, a frown on his face.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, combing his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to smooth the unruly locks. A strand fell in front of his face and Elora watched it absentmindedly, suddenly filled with an urge to reach out and push it away. Shaking her head, she checked the battered leather watch on her wrist and had to do a double take.

"Shit! No it's not, we've gotta go now!" She hissed, sliding out from beneath the blanket and hurriedly pulling on her boots.

"What's the rush?" Nero inquired lightly, watching in mild amusement as the woman ran around wildly, doing her best to make it appear as if there had been nobody in the room. Of course, the shattered glass and broken window gave that away, but other than that there was no trace of them.

"Well, there's supposed to be someone moving in at nine thirty, giving us about fourty minutes before we have a very awkward encounter with the landlord of this apartment complex." She answered, slinging her dufflebag over her shoulder. Nero rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead as he tucked the towel in his back pocket.

"I see… so how are we going to do this? I really cannot teleport with you." Rubbing the gold cuff on his wrist, he watched as Elora paused, pursing her lips thoughtfully.

"Hmmm… Order me to the Sentella base, and then follow as soon as I disappear." She said at last, pulling her hair back and fluffing it out.

"Is there no other way?" He demanded, a scowl pursing his lips.

"I'm afraid not darling. But your concern is very sweet." She smiled gently, adjusting the strap on her bag.

"Alright, well... Elora, I order you to meet me at the Sentella headquarters." The cuff flashed bright red, its glow matched by the collar that the redhead wore. She blinked, her face scrunched up as if in pain before she disappeared with a pop, leaving behind the signature taste of psychic power behind. Nero felt the tug on his arm, a tug that was growing increasingly annoying and more forceful. With a sigh, he followed after the woman, curious as to what the future entailed.