Hollow. He felt so hollow.
It had been nearly a week since he had seen her. Nearly a week since he had left marks on her neck the shape of his crushing fingers.
So many times he had uttered cutting words towards the distaff gender, his only defence against the pain they inflicted. So many times. And not once had he cared for the pain he saw in their gaze. Not once had he cared for the fear he put there.
But this time… this time was different. He felt different.
She was a woman. She was a powerful Blood-female, not just in Jewels, but also in caste. He should hate her. But he didn't. Couldn't.
He wanted to though. It would be so much easier if he could hate her like all the others.
But she was safe. She was not of Hyall. Her hair was a riot of tangled curls, not straight and glossy black; her eyes were not gold, but a brilliant green; and her skin was pale and flushed, not the golden-brown of evil.
Vardene ran his hand restlessly through his dark hair.
"Mother Night!"
The pain that had flickered in Charlotte's gentle face still haunted him. And he hated her for it. But mostly he hated himself for putting it there. For going too far. So many times she had come back after he had lashed out at her, only seeing a woman from his past, never seeing someone that might be different. Never seeing her.
But she had always come back. Always. And part of him had always been glad. Through his shield of cynicism and hate, part of him had still, after all this time, welcomed a woman. Welcomed her.
And now he had gone too far, leaving all he had salvaged to be lost. He had only himself to blame, but that did not make the bitter reality any easier to swallow. He had to find her. Had to make it better for her. Yes, he could not leave her hurting.
And so it was, that not long after, he found himself navigating the corridors leading to her chambers, his body craving her presence, hungering for her.
Reaching her door, Vardene knocked sharply against the wooden frame.
"Come in."
He hesitated at the laughing tone of the voice that called out, feeling like he did not belong, like he could never belong.
Steeling himself, he pushed the door open and stepped through, his gaze flickering from Charlie to Catlyn, both of them perched on her bed.
"I…"
His eyes widened, his nostrils flared. Moon's blood. Mother Night, the woman was in her moontime!
He felt himself rising to the killing edge, his instinctual urge to protect manifesting itself within the savage nature of his caste. He battled against it, struggled against the violent power within him. But why wasn't she protected? Why weren't any males or females willing to stand between her and any threat?
His anger sharpened, becoming even more savage, fuelled as it was by his need to defend, his need to protect.
The fearful gaze her eyes had betrayed upon first seeing him had done nothing to placate the savagery within him, and now her eyes betrayed something closer to panic. It was often hard enough for a woman to trust a man she knew well around her in her vulnerable time, but for him to be near her…
Snarling, he slammed a Sapphire shield around the room, effectively stopping all entry by any weaker Jewelled threat. Then he turned towards the woman who fuelled his savagery, the woman whose presence kept him dancing on a knife's edge.
"Vardene—"
"What is wrong with the people of Dena Nehele?! This Territory that is supposed to house those of the Blood who live with honour? Where are they when you need protection?" he spat as he advanced towards her bed, his darkened eyes watching as she squeaked and scrambled away.
"At least let Catlyn go."
Vardene snarled. "She can leave whenever she likes. She knows that."
"I told you he was protective," exclaimed a grinning Catlyn.
Charlie just stared at her.
Vardene spun around as he felt the strength of lighter Jewels being used against his shield, followed by a loud banging on the bedroom door. Rage filled him. They were trying to get to Charlie, wanting to harm her.
Everything that made him a Warlord Prince continued to manifest itself within him, every protective urge he had for so long fought against amassed itself inside him. Everyone was a potential threat.
Descending to the level of Sapphire, Vardene prepared himself to let loose a blast of power to take out the men behind the door.
But Catlyn ran to the door, halting his plans for the moment. She was not a threat. She was someone to defend. He stepped towards her.
"We're fine! Stop trying to get through, you'll only make it worse! Charlie, tell them, they don't understand! Vardene is no threat, you silly—"
The banging stopped. Something must have happened, but he had missed it, held as he was by the strong emotions riding him. The attacks against the physical barrier he was maintaining halted too. Vardene stopped watching the door, and instead swung his gaze to the woman behind him, who was wearing a worried, but determined, expression. He watched as she went to Catlyn and said something to her, too quiet for him to hear even in his state of heightened sensation.
"Vardene? I have to go… somewhere. Can you let me through?"
He didn't reply. Couldn't reply. He just adjusted the shield he held to let Catlyn through. But no one from the other direction, never that. They were a threat. And he had to keep Charlie safe from them.
***
Hells fire, Mother Night and may the Darkness be merciful. What in the Darkness was she going to do to placate an irate Warlord Prince? At least the men outside had stopped trying to get to her, though she knew they were not happy about it. But Catlyn would explain it to them. Catlyn would be able to pay full attention to the questions she herself had been unable to answer on the conversation Valen had started on a psychic thread. She grimaced. She did not envy the girl with Valen haranguing her. At least she was safe though.
Charlie just managed to suppress a flinch as she looked up into Vardene's eyes. Their intensity scared her more than she'd like to admit.
"Ah…" Charlie started, only to realise she did not know what to say.
Vardene approached her.
"You should be in bed."
"Okay," she squeaked as she made a dash for the bed only to have his arm wrap around her and stop her progress.
"Charlotte," he growled, "you need to be resting, not running about."
She clung to him as he quite expertly picked her up.
She had not expected that. She had thought he would sit away from her and keep everyone beyond the door at bay. She had not thought he'd try his hand at fussing.
He carried her over to her bed, expertly drawing the duvet back while still holding her to him. After placing her carefully onto the mattress he waited until she had wriggled down before tucking her in, his tender actions at odds with his dark expression.
It was then that he seemed to realise what he was doing, for he stepped back and turned away, but not before Charlie noticed the confused expression on his once glowering face. She went to say something, but before she could gather her thoughts he had turned back around and strode purposively to her side.
"Charlotte… did I… have I…?" he rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know what I'm doing…"
Her eyes flicked across his face, taking in the lines of worry warring with the tightly leashed violence within him. He turned again, snarling, and swiped the glass from the bedside table beside her, causing it to shatter as it hit the floor. She flinched, but he did not see, his eyes focussed as they were on the broken shards by his feet. He cursed, then sighed as he bent to pick them up.
"Hell's fire!" he swore as he stood to his feet.
"Your bleeding!" her training taking over, Charlie shot out from under the blankets in her haste to get to him, wincing as she instinctively called in her Jewels.
"CHARLOTTE! Mother Night, woman, what do you think you are doing?" he roared as he scooped her up and tossed her lightly back onto the bed. "It's your moontime, wench! Mother Night, you don't use Craft in your moontime!"
Charlie stared at the man before her who was again quickly rising to the killing edge. Anyone would think she'd hacked her arm off. Insufferable ass. She'd only used a little Craft, only enough to call in her Jewels; she had not even got to seal the cut on his hand. And he had the hide to be pissed at her! She sighed. Thank the Darkness she could wear her Jewels with ease tomorrow.
"Vardene, calm—"
"Screw calm!"
Charlie huffed.
"At least let me see to your hand."
Vardene snarled.
"I wont use Craft! It was an accident anyway," she said, but noticed he did not look like he believed her. "There are bandages in the bathroom, I'll go get—"
Vardene bit off another snarl.
"You'll go and get them… and then I can clean and wrap your hand."
He glared at her for a while before going off to comply. She breathed a sigh of relief. He was so volatile. And her moontime was only making it worse for him. But Catlyn had been right, he was being protective, not threatening.
While she silently pondered this, Vardene came back to her side equipped with a cloth bandage, cleaning salve and a basin of water. Charlie smiled. New to fussing he may be, but he certainly acted like all the other males and thought of everything so as to keep her resting in bed.
He sat beside her and she got to work cleaning and wrapping his hand. There was no glass in the wound, which was lucky since she could not use Craft, but it was rather deep. Lucky she would be able to heal it properly tomorrow as she did not think he would go to another Healer while she was without the use of her Jewels.
"There, all finished. It's not too tight?"
Though still edgy, he had calmed a little under her soothing touch and now looked at her with uncertainty again. Finally he vanished the bowl and salve along with the broken glass, and after a slight hesitation, gathered her in his arms and settled back on the bed under the duvet.
"Vardene?"
She felt as he tensed.
"Goodnight."