CHAPTER THIRTEEN

History had a quite horrid way of repeating itself. I knew that now as I clutched on tightly to my case and stepped down the small set of steps which led from the carriage, a real rarity in this part of Idris. Coming back to the cottage had never been so difficult.

A large part of me wanted to tare up the ground as I bolted away heading in any direction which could possibly stall having to walk through that door.

Valentine had sent me away, I had left following the war and Jonathan had vanished from my life. But are lives had a way of tangling themselves and I was soon ensnared once more. I had a divided childhood. Half spent within these walls, half in the Manor House the other Jonathan resided in. I favoured the cottage, always.

I was always sure it was because it was where my Mother was. Now I can see I secretly delighted in the attention Jonathan through upon me. At first he hated me. Or so I believed. But perhaps it was all to test me, to test my strength, my worth. Jonathan showed me how cruel the world could be, he drove my power. He wanted me to be a powerful woman. He showed me how it was capable.

As we grew, and as we matured, are small age gap leading to a merge of hormonal desires we became ever more inseparable when allowed together. I followed Jonathan besotted almost with him. The other Jonathan from the manor gave me so such regard. But Jonathan, my Jonathan he made me feel special.

The way he would come to me in the night and I'd read to him in the candle light under the sheets. The way he taught me to fight, to ride a horse, to climb the highest of trees and to do the impossible for a mundane using a Steele. It was the stolen glances, the masked blushes and the scrawled notes.

Valentine fought against it.

Jonathan was marked young. Whipped brutally. Tortured by his own Farther.

He told me to love was to destroy. But I knew to love was to live.

I went to see the other Jonathan because Valentine requested it. And despite the moments of intense hatred I felt towards him, he was the closest thing I could hold to a Father.

Jonathan offered me his hand but I rejected it, looking up to the sharp incline I had once climbed chasing after him. The wind was sharp and full of Autumn as it struck the dip of the valley were the small cottage sat. It was as beautiful as I remembered, even if it had fallen into some disrepair.

Tears stung my eyes and I swatted them away quickly trying to keep my emotions in check.

"Millie?" Jonathan asked carefully and I set down the luggage unwilling to respond. The captivating sheen of his blonde hair had gone replace by the well combed blackness.

"Have you missed this place?" I asked gesturing towards the cottage. "I know you hardly form attachments" I added with a scornful tone.

"I have missed the memories we had here" he muttered jerking forwards seizing my bag and striding towards the cottage.

"Are you coming?" He quipped as he stalked towards the worn cottage and I could only nod limply willing my feet to move me after him. Jonathan seemed disgruntled by this place and I could only agree with the emotions it was rising up in me.

My legs felt like led but I moved with him, walking carefully towards are childhood home feeling the weight of history bearing firmly down upon me.

Jonathan entered first and moved to scout the house as if he expected some sort of danger, his firm look instructed me to remain in place but I disregarded any such instruction.

Instead I moved between the small kitchen that hosted a crooked table and looked towards the empty cupboards. Jonathan had brought supplies with us but even these wouldn't last long.

I reached into my pocket and popped out a pill from the foiled packaging swallowing it dry as I prepared to move further inside. I ignored what was down the cellar, having always been forbidden from entering and instead surfaced in the lounge.

With sore wrists I pulled of the sheets dropping them to the ground and looking at what was concealed beneath them. Nothing had changed. The oversized leather seats stared right back at me and the only thing that would require a deep clean seemed to be the fire place everything else seemed to have been pre-cleaned as if in preperance for are arrival.

It was a hot summers evening, like so many had been here. My skin felt like it was on fire and I was trying out some of the more Mundane clothes my Mother had gotten for me before she'd died. It would be the last few months I had left in this house, but I didn't know that then.

The heatwave was only worsened by the houses lack of shelter and the sun would always try to scorch my skin. Valentine was in the cellar, and not to be disturbed I was reminded by Jonathan when I went to ask about dinner.

I chewed at my lip as I sat on the floor my back pressed against the sofa a book lay open in my lap. Jonathan's eyes were on me, but this was far from unusual.

"Knock it off" I muttered closing the hardback and looking at him from across the room. He'd come in half an hour ago, slouched against the furthest wall and hadn't quit eyeballing me since.

Jonathan didn't smirk, didn't so much as twitch in response and I sighed in frustration at his blank demeanour. His hair was knotted into a short bun to keep in from his face and his shirt was open to reveal the planes of his marked chest. It made my mouth feel unpleasantly dry.

I rubbed at my eyes and tried to recount a particularly dull piece of Latin as a distraction but Jonathan kept staring and my hormones continued to egg me on.

"What are you wearing Millicent?" He demanded the words suddenly sharp coming from his mouth as he leant back against the wall his eyes darkened.

"Clothes" I snapped running my hands consciously over my bare thighs. The skirt was quite Mundane. It was a cream cotton and floated down loose to my mid-thigh without any of the netting most of my clothes held beneath.

"Not enough clothes for a Lady" he insulted.

I shifted position trying to contemplate a snide enough response.

Jonathan inhaled sharply his eyes widening a little and I gasped quickly closing my legs together tightly and covering my legs further with the dress.

"Pervert!" I screeched but not loudly enough to alert Valentine.

"I cant be a pervert if you enjoy it. It doesn't make you uncomfortable it excites you Millie" he reminded me and began stepping towards me. Closing the distance between us.

"Stop that!" I warned pushing my back up against the sofa.

"Stop what?" He laughed.

"Doing that, walking towards me all slow, like … like that, so seductively" I spat choking on my words like the flustered teenager I was. But Jonathan was standing in front of me and I was looking up to him waiting for him to make the next move in this dance.

But Jonathan just kept staring, and the more he stared the more it ticked me off.

"I'm not a … I am not a slut Jonathan. I don't care what you think. My mum brought me this skirt and just because your being inappropriate doesn't mean that I shouldn't wear it" I raged.

"Everything about you turns me on" he shrugged as if it was my fault and I frowned. "You can't wear stuff like that ... you make me, feral".

"Kiss me?" He asked and I cowered back for a moment in the surprise that filled me. He'd never asked me to kiss him, he liked control, to take the lead with me.

The silence was earth shattering and I damned the birds for not even saving me with the odd chirp. Instead all that weighted the air between us was his request. I pushed myself begging to stand and he was helping me up before I could protest almost lifting me to my feet.

I stood with my legs close together to prevent my knees from clanking together as my body shook with the nerves.

Jonathan took a slow deep breath and I tensed in anticipation. My hands were restless by my side and the rash part of my mind pulled it self into action and suddenly my hands were resting on his bare chest and I was pressing my lips against his. He stood still allowing me to move my lips for a few seconds stretching over his mouth, the smell of his masculinity like a drug. My fingers edged over the hardened muscles and I was subconsciously pushing are bodies closer together.

It was as if Jonathan couldn't take it anymore. He growled and suddenly his hands came to cup my are beneath the skirt massaging the flesh and brushing against the partially expose skin in a way he'd never touched me before. I cried out opening my mouth to him and he pushed his tongue into me dominating my body.

I was climbing up him and I linked my legs around his core and he held me, slowly breaking the kiss. Every time I tried to take a breath he'd peck my lips again with another short kiss. My head was spinning and I was pulling his shirt from his back with a desperation when I felt us coming down to the armchair. I straddle Jonathan hips at op of the chair. Jonathan was kissing every part of my exposed skin and his hands were pushing the skirt up my hips and out of the way as he brushed my underwear line. I whimpered at the sensation grabbing his hands and pulling them up to grab my breasts which were only covered by a blouse. They felt warm and he buried his head in the crook of my neck as he rolled his fingers over them, groping the flesh.

"Jonathan" I groaned his name coming out like a prayer.

"Millie, I love you. Te amo. ani ohev otach. Je t'aime. I could tell you I love you in a hundred ways and it still wouldn't be enough" the young Jonathan assured and I pushed his hands down to my centre begging him to do more than just skim against the fabric of my underclothes.

He was pulled from me and I could hear him smack agains the wall with a crack of what must have been broken bones. He dropped like a sack of potatoes as Valentine stood over him and the minute he managed to stand he walked without a word to cellar because he knew his punishment, he accepted it, wanted it even?

I scowled as I moved to the window and looked down at the chess set.

My bold boiled and I swiped out at it, kicking at the stand and cascading the hand carved figures in a moment of heated passion.

Valentine had taught me how to play chess here. Jonathan hadn't the patience to play with me, he always told me I was awful at it. My Mother had despised the game and the time we spent together.

I looked for a moment at the pieces and board which remained stubbornly intact and grunted in frustration before picking up the stand and placing it all neatly back as if it had never happened.

Clenching my fists I turned my back on the memory needing to escape for a moment from the house and all that came flooding back with it. Jonathan stood in the doorway blocking it with his much taller frame.

"Move Jonathan" I snapped.

"Jonathan I swear on all that is holy if you do not move from that doorway this instance then I will …"I began and his usual smirk mocked me but alas he let me pass.

I stomped across the creaking floorboard slammed the flimsy front door and ran out to the empty valley that surrounded us.

I screamed until my throat was raw and my tears had run out and all the time Jonathan watched me from the cottages threshold unquestioning.

Authors Note:

Hope you liked the chapter and the flashback halfway through! Please leave me any thoughts you have in a review!