Disclaimer: I own Isabella and Everon. Some ideas may come from A great and Terrible Beauty or Rebel Angels. And the Whole Harry Potter Characters and Series and ideas from those are not mine either.

Unwritten History

Chapter One:

History Begins

By: ConfinedSecret

London, 1864

Her heels clicked against the stone floor. Flames played upon the walls, surfacing shadows that whispered as she passed. The keys she held jingled in her hands, an instrumental tune of her presence made known.

Another set of heels, muffled, heavy falling in place behind her. Her heart paced rapidly as she heard the quiet steps. Her blood pumped thunderously in her ears, so thick and quick her breathing began. Thoughts rushed through her mind so fiercely.

"Not again." The words flashed in her head like warning neon lights.

Cat and mouse, it's a game. Childish, dangerous exhilarating, frightening..

"Leave me alone." She whispered to herself. Her steps gaining speed.

She stopped as she reached the end of the hall.

"Pick a route; left or right, come now, Isa, think?"

Panicking she ran to the left where she reached the stairs to the East Wing.

Turning around she found the dark silhouette of her chaser.

At her distraction, she tripped over herself in the mid step of reaching the top of the stairs.

With a quickness of a phantom in the dark, he was on her. A strangled cry released from the back of her throat. Her arms held barred above her head by his large course hands.

The corner of the steps pressed into her back as his weight pressed into her body; molding, shaping, fitting against her every curve.

She held her eyes closed tightly as she felt his breath tickle her neck. It was deep, heavy, affecting her body to take a slight arc as unsuspecting sparks twirled and twined their way down her spine, alighting every nerve.

A gasp escaped her lips, slightly, yet not without notice by her captor. She didn't want to open her eyes; oh no, she knew, she knew exactly, what she was bound to see. She didn't want to. She didn't want to get lost to his touch, his visage, his metallic eyes….his kiss.

Oh, what a deadly weapon his lips were. Oh, how tender was his skin pressed bare, against her own.

His breath was warm against her neck. His lips light upon her creamy flesh. His tongue was slick upon her collar bone, she was determined to resist.

Her body was treacherous; her heart was in frenzy, drumming against her rib cage. Her will to not give in was running thin.

His lips softly caressed her ear; his breath was hot as he spoke.

"Hello, Isabella, my pet." He whispered translucently into her ear as she struggled to push his offending form off of herself, he chuckled lightly, "My how you have strengthened since our last visit. Yet, I notice your wit is not about you this eve. How dull…" he nuzzled his nose between the crevice of her neck and chin, purring softly.

Her eyes flushed open ablaze with rage.

"How dull?" She let out a hollow chortle, " How dull?" She looked upon him contemptuously," How dull it is to keep this game, Everon!" She breathed deeply, violent anger seeping through her pores, "What do you gain with playing this tedious sport? Am I your hunt? Your conquest? Your battle to be won?" Seething she rolled her eyes back and finished it with a frightful glare, "What do I look like to you; an item in which to gain amusement? I am not a trophy for you! You don't own, and never as I live will you control me either!" She spat vehemently.

He licked her ear, and groaned as he pressed his pelvis into her. Her eyes widened as she could feel his enlightenment of her anger. "Oh, love. How you tease. My, such a violent tongue you posses, pet, but I must say how much I beg the contrary of your promise.," he twirled a curl around his finger as she tried to push away from him defiantly.

He positioned her chin between his forefinger and thumb, and licked the bottom of her lip, "You are my favorite component, this game is not only enjoyed by me, poppet, for I believe, you enjoy it quite as much as I do. Don't fight it, love, you always permit me access in the end."

"Never do you gain anything but my chaste kisses. Never more, but I admit, never less. You love me naught, and I hold nothing for you." She counteracted with much scorn.

He whispers, wounded and sincere, her eyes show pity as his sharp features soften, "You bruise my pride; you break my dignity, and disgrace my claim as a man. You understand nothing of my intentions." Her pity is replaced with disdain.

"Oh, whoa! You guilt me so? How dare you ever place such shame upon me! Your intentions are naught but distasteful selfish need to quench your thirst of a woman's bosom!" she spat with great fury.

He laughs a deep and sound laugh. He gazed toward her with mirth dancing in his dark orbs. Confound, she glares at him through her thick lashes, as he kisses her forehead.

"You are much worth more attention than any woman's bosom!" he grinned charismatically. "If only you knew how you render to delight me. Lively you are, really." He pinned her harder unto the stairs and his voice became profound, "Wiggle no more or I will not have one ounce left of control within me to stop in fulfilling an essential fantasy that I hold dear for you."

She stopped, and huffed the, haughtily asked,

"What do you want from me?" His face becomes serious, and she is caught off guard, fright filling her to the bones. She suddenly feels cold as she awaits the pending answer.

"The ravens" he whispers, "they have come."

"Ravens!" She gasps in surprise, "What have they come for? How are they to come after us?"

"Be wise my pet," he caresses her head, "trust no one." She tilts her head to his advice.

"No one?" she quells, "Not even you?" He sighs, caught in his own words. Shaking his head and closing his eyes, he glances back up to her.

"Yes, not even me."

"Then you give me leave…"

He looks away to the wall, dejected, and hurt. Turning to look down, her breathing was heavy, her breast rose with every inhalation. He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. Then looked back into her eyes, his face void yet poignant.

"Aye, for you, love, I give you leave."

She smiled slightly, her hands cupped his face softly, and she stared into his torrent gray eyes. Then whispered, like a gentle winds soft whistle,

"If you love me, kiss me, and I am given leave to love you."

He stared into her chestnut colored eyes, his face softened, and he grins. Oh how he loved her silly ways.

He bent to kiss her, his lips brushed her softly, dipping his head lower to taste her sensual lips, then…

An agonizing yell released from his breath as his whole body collapsed upon hers..

Isabella's eyes turned alert. Gaining strength, she pushed him gingerly to the side. Crimson soaked her fingers, sticky, warm, and moist; her hands shook as she stared at the origin of his torment. Blood sputtered from his mouth as he tried to speak, "I…I…" She placed her finger to his lips.

"Shh, my love, it will be alright, I promise." Her voice was shaky as she tried to calm him. She laid him down gently and kissed his eyes delicately.

Tracing his face one last time, she turned around violently to confront his assassins.

"Ravens." She answered herself quietly. Holding out her arms, she closed her eyes, and let the power take her over.