By rights this should have been another SethPOV, but he was too upset to talk to me so I hope you don't mind getting another chapter from Edward instead.
Just a reminder that this is an M rated story. If you're not old enough, then please don't.
Musical inspiration/playlist for this chapter: Eskimo Joe's Comfort You.
My Liege, My Love
We didn't speak as I drove to the park.
There were so many things I wanted to say, but I didn't.
Seth stared straight ahead, and I resisted the urge to watch him rather than the road.
Instead, I simply breathed him in.
I pulled the car up at a rest area we had stopped at hundreds of times before. It was further into the park than most people ventured, and only a mile or two's walk to where the bush was thick enough for Seth to phase without risk of being seen.
Driving him up to the park felt so familiar, and yet, it was almost as if it had been another lifetime that we'd last been here.
In the past, decades had passed me by as quickly as years might fly by for a human. When one faces eternity, ten years is nothing - a blip, a passing moment. Ten years without Seth, however, had been torture. Time had slowed, each day dragging by, the emptiness making every second feel like it lasted forever.
Only ten years, but so much had changed. It may as well have been another lifetime ago.
As I watched him sigh heavily and climb out of my car, I feared that maybe too much time had passed, too much had changed.
My greatest fear was that nothing would ever be the same again.
I followed after him, the sound of the car door slamming echoing in the cold night air. The silence between us was deafening.
He looked so weak, so withdrawn; a shadow of the Seth I had once known, once loved more than life itself. And I still did. But something deep inside my chest ached when I realized I just wasn't sure how to love him anymore.
It hurt so much to watch him walk away from me with his shoulders hunched, every line of his body strained and sharp. I wanted to pick him up and cradle him to my chest, carry him into the forest.
But I didn't.
We reached a small clearing and Seth paused, kicking at the ground with his foot.
"I haven't...it might take me a while to change..." he said hesitantly.
I wasn't sure what he meant, but I nodded.
He glanced over his shoulder almost apologetically before disappearing behind a huge fir tree on the edge of the clearing.
It stung, but I tried not to let it show on my face. It was just another reminder that everything was different now.
Eventually, Seth emerged in his wolf form. I'd forgotten just how glorious he was like this. A huge, sandy-colored wolf trotting over to me; all grace and latent power. I wanted very much to push my hands into his coat, run my fingers through the velvet soft fur of his ears.
It was so hard to be so close, and yet so far away. The effort to hold myself back, to not do anything, was simply exhausting.
He seemed to sense that my restraint was wearing thin, and he cautiously ambled up beside me. After a moment's pause, he pushed himself against my hip.
A sense of relief flooded through me as my hand connected with him. His heat radiated through my palm, and his tangy, earthy wolf scent rushed through my nostrils as I stroked his thick pelt.
I had missed this, too.
During the drive up to the park, I'd been careful not to eavesdrop in his mind, fearful of what I would find there; but now I forced myself to open my mind to him, knowing he would expect me to be listening.
His thoughts were subdued as he focused on the feel of my hand caressing his head. The weight of my touch, the coolness of my skin, the long-forgotten familiarity.
The comfort.
Want to run?
Lost in the feel of him, I was reluctant to agree. I didn't want to lose the contact with him or this fleeting shadow of our former intimacy, but I couldn't deny him.
I pulled my hand away and he took off into the trees, branches crashing behind him as he disappeared into the bush.
It was almost completely dark by now, but it didn't hinder either of us, and I ran after him, following his scent through the darkened forest.
We ran for hours.
It had been so long since I had taken pleasure from running. I ventured out as often as I needed to for hunting, but I was almost businesslike in my efficiency. Survival was always at the forefront of my mind, and I had simply been unable to take enjoyment from being out in the wilderness alone.
Now, as we sped through the park in wide circles, chasing our own paths through the moonlit landscape, I felt a small measure of joy. Small and tentative, but it was impossible to ignore the warm glow that spread through my chest as we ran.
Together.
I knew that there would be many more miles to cover before I could dare hope for something more, but for the moment I was content just to be here with him.
His pace began to slow, and I could see in his mind that he couldn't cope for much longer. The run had given him a small respite from the black grief that swirled on the edges of his consciousness, but it had also left him exhausted, and he was almost close to collapsing.
I called to him, coming to a stop on the banks of a small stream. He drank his fill and then settled on the ground at my feet, laying his head wearily on his paws.
I'm so tired.
His thoughts were hazy and disjointed, and I sat down beside him, stroking his head until he fell asleep.
His sleep was fitful, soft whines floating on the air as his body twitched and shuddered under my hands. I couldn't bear to be in his head, but every grief stricken noise made me cringe, my heart clenching as I listened to the sound of his loss.
He didn't sleep for long, but it seemed to be enough for the moment. We made our way back to the car, subdued and silent.
"What now?" he asked me.
What now? I had no idea.
"We go home."
Home.
I'd rung Tanya during the trip back and she was waiting for us as we pulled up to the house.
"Are you sure, Seth? I can take you to La Push," I asked him. I wanted him here, with me, but I would take him home if that was what he wanted. Treaty boundaries and the wrath of a distant enemy were the least of my concerns.
"No." His answer was instant and absolute, but his voice was flat and devoid of any emotion.
He followed me inside as Tanya greeted him sadly and offered him her apologies. His acknowledging smile was slight, but didn't reach his eyes.
He sat awkwardly poised on the edge of the couch, looking painfully out of place. I doubted he was even aware of where he was, his eyes gazing into the distance.
I couldn't help but remember the last time he had sat in that very same spot. He had been laughing at one of Emmett's jokes as he lay sprawled on the couch in a tangle of long limbs, feet propped up on the coffee table until Esme had walked into the living room and pretended to scold him. I wondered if I would ever hear him laugh like that again.
I left him to his memories and joined Tanya where she was waiting for me in the kitchen.
"How is he?" she asked me, in a hushed tone meant for my ears only.
"I don't know," I answered honestly. I rubbed my hand over my face distractedly. The truth was, I had no idea how he was, or how he was going to be. I had to stay out of his head – he needed privacy to grieve; and the truth be told, I wasn't sure I could cope with seeing the extent of his heartbreak, all too familiar emotions that I feared might be too much for me to bear.
"I took the liberty of setting up the spare room for him while you were gone. I know I shouldn't have presumed, but I thought maybe he'd come back here, even just for a little while…"
"Thank you," I said gratefully. I hadn't had the foresight to plan ahead, and the house was not set up for human inhabitants. Suddenly, I missed Esme and her nurturing tendencies. The taking care of Seth part that would inevitably come next would have been like second nature for her, and I suddenly felt out of my depth without her mothering guidance.
Tanya continued. "There's also food in the kitchen. Not much, but enough for at least a few days."
There was something unspoken in her tone. "You're leaving?" I asked hesitantly.
She nodded. "I'll go tomorrow. You two need some time to be alone. I can come back if you need me, but I think it would be best if you were here with him on your own, Edward."
I pulled her into a hug, unable to convey in words how much she meant to me, how much she had done for me, but I knew she was right. Whatever lay ahead, Seth and I had to work it out on our own.
At first, Seth slept.
During the day, he would sleep for hours on end. Deep, heavy sleep devoid of dreams where he simply escaped into oblivion. I stayed close by, bringing him food and water when he woke, even though he said he had no appetite.
At night, sleep came in uneasy bursts punctuated by screams and night sweats as he lay haunted by nightmares and memories.
In the daylight hours, there was an ever present physical distance between us. A carefully-toed line that remained uncrossed. We didn't touch. Every interaction was polite. Wary.
But once the sun set, he begged me not to leave him. Wanting me in his bed as he clung to me, wrapping his body against mine even as he dreamt of her.
I'd never felt as utterly helpless in all my existence as I did in those moments. All I could offer him was the cool relief of my embrace, but that wasn't enough to keep his terror at bay.
In the morning, we would inevitably go back to our awkward dance around each other. It was almost like we were strangers, and the anxiety that accompanied even the smallest of interactions was heart breaking.
Seth was still in bed, even though it was well past noon. I knocked on his bedroom door hesitantly, waiting until I heard a low noise from inside that I interpreted as permission to enter.
He was lying with his back to me, facing the wall.
"It's almost afternoon, Seth. Would you like something to eat?" I said as I walked to the window and pulled back the curtain, pretending to be more confident than I was really feeling.
He moaned as the light flooded the room, and pulled the covers over his head. I opened the window as well, hoping the frigid air would help rouse him.
The coffee I had made him that morning sat on the bedside table, cold and untouched.
"You didn't drink your coffee?" I'd never known Seth to turn down a coffee. I was certain I had correctly remembered how he liked it.
He mumbled under the covers, but I still heard every word. "I don't drink coffee anymore."
"Oh." I said simply. I paused, but couldn't think of anything else to say to the lump of blankets that was hiding him. I picked up the mug and took it with me as I left the room.
Careful not to inhale the caustic smell, I tipped the coffee down the sink, watching the dark brown liquid swirl in lazy circles before disappearing down the drain.
It was another hour before he finally came downstairs. He looked sheepish as he opened the fridge, and I heard the distinctive low groan of his stomach rumbling.
"I think maybe I need to eat something," he muttered as he rummaged in the fridge.
"What would you like? I could go to town if you need something that we don't have," I said quickly. The need to please him and care for him was instinctive, but I could hear the anxiety in my voice, the too-eager tone making me cringe even as I continued.
"Why don't you write a list? I'm still not really sure what you want, but if you tell me, I'll go."
He grunted, and deciding it was an affirmative sounding noise, I picked up my car keys from the counter.
He turned from the fridge, his arms full of various packets of human food that I didn't recognize, because I'd never really needed to pay attention to it before. He set them down on the bench and then reached for a loaf of bread.
"It's OK. I'll just make a sandwich."
"I can do that for you." I rushed to his side.
"Edward." He sighed. "I can make myself a sandwich. Just...go chill or something." He began to spread the slices of bread with something yellow and oily-looking.
"Sorry," I said. It was hard not to feel deflated, but he was right. I was crowding him, and I needed to give him some space. "Go chill" as he put it. I'd never been particularly good at that.
"It's fine," he said, without looking up. "Seriously, though. I can do this."
"OK," I said softly.
He looked up then as if sensing my vulnerability. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath in frustration. "Look. I'm sorry. I didn't mean...it's just..." His words trailed off.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between us. Neither of us knew what to say.
I couldn't understand why simple conversations and interactions always had to be so fraught with tension. It was as if we didn't really know each other at all, and sometimes I couldn't help but wonder if it was that, and not Seth's grief, that was coming between us.
I just wanted some semblance of normality. Some small part of Seth, my Seth, back again.
He turned his back on me, and went back to preparing his sandwich.
I retreated to my room, closing the door behind me. The sun was already low on the horizon, and it was only a few more hours before darkness would descend. A few more hours before Seth would wake, shaking and crying, and calling for me.
Under the veil of night, we were not cautious or hesitant - we fell easily into a natural give and take of emotions as I offered him refuge in my arms. My presence, something he barely acknowledged during the day, seemed to be the only thing grounding him in place. I knew I couldn't banish the demons that haunted him completely, but willingly offered what little solace I could provide. I held him tight, letting him weep against me.
My arms and heart wanted to be joyous at his return.
But it wasn't enough.
I wanted to hold him and love him and heal him. I wanted to take this broken thing, the ashes of what we had once had, and make it whole again. I wanted to fix this. A few hours of breathing in his hot, spicy scent, relishing the feel of his body pressed against mine, the heat of him beside me; it was wonderful, everything I had missed and wanted desperately, but it wasn't enough. Now, the taste of him on the air left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
For always, the dawn would break and when the sun showed its face, we would once again return to being strangers.
If I thought that was hard to bear, it was nothing compared to being locked out of his room.
On the other side of the thin wooden door, I could hear him sobbing, but when I called to him, he would only yell and scream at me to leave him alone.
And that was the one thing I couldn't do for him.
I sat with my back against the paneled wood, my knees pulled up to my chest, and listened to him cry for hours.
Days.
It felt like eternity.
Eventually, I asked Leah to come.
"I have to hunt," I said apologetically. I knew all too well the dangers of not feeding, and now more than ever I needed to be strong, and sated. In control.
My own fears and grief lurked just around the corner. Watching Seth was almost like reliving my own darkest moments. The emotional toll of his grief was a burden that weighed heavily on my shoulders, and I knew that to face it I needed to feed - my body and mind needed to be strong so I could keep my own memories locked away.
"Of course," she said, without any hint of unease. She dropped her backpack on the couch and then made her way into the kitchen.
"Chicken soup."
"Excuse me?"
"Chicken soup," she said slowly. "You know, soup made from a chicken?"
I didn't know how that was relevant, but I nodded and showed her where everything was kept.
It was an hour before I came across the trail of a small herd of deer. I drained two of them quickly, the blood leaving me feeling full and bloated. My overactive anxiety, along with the burn in my throat, had eased and although I felt barely sated, I did feel stronger and calmer.
When I returned, Seth and Leah were eating at the dining room table. Apparently, chicken soup was the key to getting Seth to leave his room.
I watched silently as Seth gulped down his meal, making small noises of acknowledgment as Leah talked in a continuous stream of idle chit-chat. I suddenly found myself feeling envious at the ease of their interactions; Seth and I struggled just to have a simple conversation. Sipping his soup and sitting at the table with his sister - he looked, just for this short and painfully everyday moment, like he was at peace.
I could only hope that one day it would be me that Seth would sit with while he ate, me that he would talk to about nothing in particular, me that he would once again open up to and share his life with.
When they were finished, Leah pulled her coat on, kissing her brother lightly on the forehead before tilting her head towards the door. I followed her out to her car.
"I'm staying for another few weeks," she said as she threw her bag onto the back seat of the car, "so call me whenever you need to."
I nodded.
"Thank you for…whatever it is that you did…" I smiled weakly.
"Never underestimate the persuasive powers that sisters hold," she said, with a knowing smirk. I thought about my own sisters and grimaced. Leah was definitely right about that.
"You don't have to do this on your own, you know," she said, suddenly serious.
I wondered if Seth's family were resentful that he'd not yet returned to La Push, but Leah's thoughts didn't hold any jealousy or bitterness. He couldn't hide here forever, but for the time being it seemed that was exactly what he wanted to do.
"He won't leave the house. I thought maybe he should go back to their home, even just to get clothes, or stuff, or something. He needs to face it sometime, Leah, but he just…" I shook my head. "I feel so useless. I don't know what to do for him."
"Just love him."
I watched as Seth's foot bounced on the floor, the incessant tap-tapping on the wooden floor echoing inside my head. Twenty-four minutes of agitated frustration. I couldn't take it anymore.
"Would you like to come for a run with me?" I asked him, even though it was getting late. I knew he needed to - everything about the way he was fidgeting, the way he pulled his hand through his hair every few minutes, the sighs heavy with need. It all screamed that he needed to phase.
I knew he could hear me, but he just ignored me, pretending to be engrossed in the newspaper when I knew for a fact he wasn't actually reading it.
It was so obvious to me that was what he needed, and I couldn't understand why he was being so stubborn.
"Come on, Seth. I think a run would do you some good," I tried again.
"Leave me alone!" he suddenly erupted, leaping to his feet to yell at me. "You don't fucking know what this feels like..."
A growl rose in my chest, and he had the sense to pause. He looked abashed as he took in the thunderous expression on my face.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that, Seth Clearwater," I said slowly. My voice sounded like scraping steel, and I glowered at him as I continued, "I will pick you up and carry you if I have to. We are going for a run and that is all there is to it."
He gaped at me, but didn't move.
"Outside. Now!"
I had never spoken to him like that before, but I was angry. So angry. I was doing my best; to look after him, to care for him, to comfort him. I was careful not to push him too hard or too fast, careful always to be patient - never daring to want or ask for anything in return, but with just a few words he had thrown it all back in my face.
I was tired. Tired of feeling guilty all the time; for Melissa, for wanting to be happy, for everything. Tired of always fighting against him, even to get him to do the simplest things - hours spent convincing him to eat, or shower. Everything was an effort, and my patience for it was officially over.
For once, he was just going to do what he was told.
He stared at me, incredulous. I wasn't sure he even recognized who I was in that instant, with my fists clenched at my side, anger rolling off me in waves of frustrated despair. I knew my eyes would be dark and hard, glinting with rage.
He didn't say anything as he walked past me and down the stairs. It wasn't until I heard the front door close behind him that I let it explode, punching a hole in the wall in front of me.
I felt guilty for losing my temper almost instantly.
With a pang of regret, I realized the heartache I had put my family through when I had been grieving my own loss. I'd been so wrapped up in my own despair, it had taken this long for me to see the impact on everyone else. Now I knew firsthand how painful it was to watch a loved one go through this. I could only hope I was strong enough.
As I followed Seth's trail into the woods, I thought about my own journey through grief. Grief for a love that had now been returned to me. By some miracle, I had been given a second chance. Another chance at life. At love.
I had to make the most of it.
I caught up with him a few minutes later, taking the lead so he would follow me through the forest. His thoughts held no anger, only a warm contentment as his craving mellowed, and an overwhelming sense of relief as he settled into his wolf skin.
It took us an hour to reach the ridge. I hadn't been up there since the day of Seth's father's funeral. Not wanting to disturb the precious memories that floated on the cool mountain breeze, I had stayed away.
It had been our special place. Maybe it could be again.
I was surprised that it looked very much the same. A decade's worth of growth in the surrounding bush, but the view across the valley remained untouched, unspoiled by the heartache that brought us back here.
Seth's heart sped up as he realized where we were. He wandered the edge of the clearing, his muzzle raised as though he was trying to catch a scent on the air.
I watched transfixed as his mind began to replay memories of our times up here.
...so fucking beautiful...diamonds and bronze...he feels like stone...tastes like ice...
I smiled as I realized he was thinking about our first kiss. I had never been more afraid in all my life as I had been when he asked me to step into the sun for him. Expecting him to see me as a monster, he'd instead cradled my face in his hands and told me I was beautiful. I raised my own hand to my cheek in memory, wishing I could feel the fire of his touch on my skin.
My hand slipped inside my pocket and I touched the little wolf carving I carried in my pocket, thinking about the day he had carved it for me up here on the ridge. The feel of the smooth wood under my fingertip was immediately comforting and reassuring.
Seth continued to survey the clearing, his nose to the ground pushing through the dirt, his warm breath visible in the cold air. In that moment he was so wolf-like, so natural in his lupine form. For an instant, I imagined that this was who he really was, a creature of the wild, free of the burdens of his human life.
His thoughts continued to be consumed with thoughts of us. Times we had spent here together; running, talking, simply sitting together as we watched the sun set.
Silently, I listened in as his memories sparked like tiny stars against the blackness of his grief.
I sank to my knees as my mind was bombarded with images and emotions. It was more than I had dared to hope for - that he would remember what we had. Remember our love. I had feared that he had forgotten, or forced me from his mind.
But it had only been buried.
What I saw in his mind was still strong, a love that could never be denied, and once again I found myself buoyed by hope.
He galloped to my side, sensing my turmoil, and pushed his wet nose into my palm. He whined, a silent question that I answered by burying my face in the thick fur of his neck. He smelt like wet earth after rain, a heavy wolf musk that I breathed in as I anchored myself to him. He flopped to the ground beside me, letting me calm myself as I caressed the sleek strands of his honey-colored coat.
We sat in silence, but in his mind Seth pushed more of his thoughts to me. It was tentative at first as he tested my ability to take more of what he wanted to offer me. I sucked it all in like an addict, reveling in the feel of him under my hands, the intimacy of the moment, the willingness of him to bare his soul to me.
It wasn't well-ordered memories like earlier, but a hazy swirl of emotions and feelings. I struggled to define and understand what he was trying to tell me, and eventually I gave up trying to analyze every shift and turn, and just let myself absorb it all.
I wrapped myself in it like a blanket, comforted by the undertones of concern and love. Guilt battled with regret as, above me, I could see and feel flashes of heartbreaking guilt and despair. It was like watching a thunderstorm as his turmoil and confusion crashed over me. Then abruptly, he stopped, his mind calm and expressionless, like a frozen lake.
I recognized it as an apology and I sobbed against him; invisible tears of joy sliding down my cheeks.
He pushed against me again, gathering me closer as he returned to his memories. There was one I didn't recognize.
The last time he had been on the ridge was not the day of his father's funeral. I watched, shocked as he tried to find me. Alone in the night, searching for my scent, my presence, my memory. I could sense his loss, his frustration - emotions I knew so well, reflected back at me.
I'm sorry.
I nodded. His gift had left me speechless, and I tried to regain control of my emotions as he stood. He turned to face the valley and then raised his head to the moon.
His howl rang out across the night, echoing across the moonlit landscape.
It was a beautiful, tortured lament, and in his mind I saw Melissa's face.
I was startled when I heard a distant wolf answering his call.
Seth panicked, turning quickly and running back towards me, phasing mid-air. He fell to the ground, a sweaty jumble of naked limbs and goose-bumped flesh.
"It was Sam," he whispered as he pulled himself to his feet. "I can't. Not yet."
I could see in his thoughts the concern in his pack leader's howl. They wanted to talk to him, see that he was OK. They missed him and were worried. Seth pushed the thoughts from his head, unable to cope with facing his pack or answering any directives from his Alpha.
I didn't push him. I knew he'd have to return to them one day, but right now, I was content to let him hide away with me for just a little longer.
When we got home it was almost midnight, and Seth went to have a shower before bed. He was exhausted, and so was I.
I just wanted to lie down with him, feel his warm body against mine, listen to the steady breathing of his sleep, find a few hours of peace in the comfort of his arms.
The shower had been turned off for a while, and I went up to his room, thinking that he would be in bed, if not already asleep. Normally I waited until he called for me, but I wasn't in the mood for waiting tonight. I needed him.
Seth wasn't in bed, or asleep. He wasn't even dressed, wrapped in nothing but a towel.
It clung to his hips, so low I could see the trail of soft hair under his belly. Drops of water ran down the smooth planes of his chest, and over the outlines of his abdominal muscles as he turned when he heard me enter the room.
He was every bit as glorious as I remembered, and the sight of him, all tousled wet hair and glistening russet skin, made me weak at the knees. My need for him spiked as I stared at his naked skin.
He fidgeted under my gaze, raising his right hand to scratch at his head.
That's when I saw it.
"You have a tattoo?" I could hear the shock in my own voice. How could it be that I hadn't known or seen it?
He looked embarrassed, and I realized he had been hiding it from me. I hadn't given much thought to the fact he was always wearing long sleeved tops as it was winter, and for the most part he had always phased hidden from me.
I crossed the room, reaching for him and turning his arm over so I could see the inside of his forearm.
I gasped. "Seth?"
He scowled at me and pulled his arm from my grasp.
"I don't want to talk about it," he muttered and then climbed into his bed.
My heart clenched as yet again he withdrew from me. I had naively thought that after what had happened out on the ridge, things with him would be different now.
But as always, I had hoped for too much.
The morning sun streamed through the window. The light was softening around the edges, a hint of gold in the bright winter light. Spring was not far away.
I sat in the window seat Esme had built during her last enthusiastic renovation, watching the dust motes swirling and sailing through the air on an invisible current. Seth was awake, the sound of him walking about in his room audible to me even from the other end of the house, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being completely and utterly alone.
It wasn't a new feeling.
I gazed into the distant horizon, remembering my self-imposed exile on Isle Esme, and the loneliness which had consumed me. I had been so desperately lost as I tried to find a path through my grief and despair. It was almost more than I could bear, to watch Seth suffer as I had, every agonizing moment a too-close reminder of the pain that had haunted me for so long.
Why didn't I know how to help him? I'd managed, eventually, to find a path through the dark, and yet I had know idea how to bring light to his life again. I felt utterly helpless. Nothing made sense anymore. I was confused and despaired that the only thing I had in my favor was time, and that was a line of thought I was unwilling to follow.
Suddenly, I wished that Carlisle was here with me. With his quiet confidence and centuries-old wisdom, he would know what to do; or if he didn't, he would be there to simply listen to my problems. Nothing flustered him, and the sense of calm which radiated off him was impossible to ignore. Jasper, too - though his gift was more manipulative - would have been able to take the edge off the unease which rattled inside me. Maybe he would even have been able to help Seth.
Thinking of Jasper inevitably lead me to thinking about Alice, and it occurred to me that without her vision, I may never have found my way back to myself. That little ray of hope; I had clung to it like a drowning man clings to a life raft.
Did Seth have a life raft?
If he didn't have hope, was there any chance we could it make it through this together? And if I wasn't enough...what then?
I was so lost in my thoughts it was a moment before I registered that he was standing in front of me.
"You kept it."
I followed his gaze to my hand. The wolf carving spun in my fingertips - I hadn't even realized that I had been worrying it while I contemplated whether there was any future for me here.
"Of course," I saidas I returned it to the safety of my pocket.
He took a seat beside me, and for a few minutes we simply sat in silence, staring out into the forest that surrounded the house.
"Where did you go? You didn't come back here...where did you go?"
"I did come back for a while." I answered quietly.
"Then you left again?"
"Carlisle and Esme decided to move to London. Did you know Carlisle was from there, originally? Rose and Emmett went with them."
"Oh." He paused. "I thought you must have all gone together somewhere."
"Not this time." It had been the first time in decades that the family hadn't all lived together. I knew it was for the best, but there were times when I missed them terribly. "Alice and Jasper have been traveling. All over the globe," I smiled.
"And you?" he probed again. I knew we needed to talk, to have this talk, but part of me balked, not sure how much he really wanted to hear.
"I went to Isle Esme."
He looked at me, shocked. "I thought you said it was uninhabited! We joked about it once, how there are no people there, no electricity..."
I didn't answer, and turned to stare out the window instead. What did he want me to say? That I'd moved on? Found someone else? Forgotten him?
"Jesus!" he muttered.
"Did you really think I could stay here? Knowing that you were right there, living with your imprint?" I asked, the words sounding harsher than I intended.
He flinched at my outburst.
"I didn't know where you would go," he said softly. "I almost asked Tanya, but I didn't think she would tell me."
I let out a wry laugh. "Probably not."
"Did you ask her to come and live here?"
"Yes." I said, waiting for him to make the inevitable connection.
"To watch me?"
I shrugged, watching his deep brown eyes as they narrowed at my non-committal response.
"So I would keep phasing." It wasn't said like a question, and I didn't respond. I didn't need to, he could read it in my eyes.
"That is pretty fucked up, Edward." He leaped to his feet, pacing the floor in front of the window.
I wanted to tell him about Alice's vision, but I knew he wasn't ready to hear it yet.
"I had to have hope, Seth. I would have gone insane otherwise," I said, not voicing how close to the edge I had actually come during my time on the island.
He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then snapped it shut again.
I wanted to remind him that he was my mate, my one and only chance at forever, the only person I would ever love. I wanted to scream and shout and explain to him that losing him nearly destroyed me. Make him see that he wasn't the only one in this.
But I didn't want to hurt him.
"Despite everything I went through, Seth, I always loved you..." I choked on my own words, feeling close to breaking as I uttered the words I had longed to say to him since I'd pulled him into my arms at Melissa's funeral.
"...and I will always love you. For the rest of my existence, I will love you."
He continued to pace back and forth in front of me, but he didn't run away, and I took that as a sign to keep talking.
"I know there is a chance that you will never love me back. I know that. I know you imprinted and I know you loved her. Maybe you'll never recover from your loss. But if there is even just a tiny chance that you will, then I am prepared to wait. I will wait for you for however long it takes, if there is a chance you will love me again someday."
I knew I should probably stop there. Seth was pulling his fingers through his hair, looking close to tears, but I had one more thing to tell him.
"But if you won't have me for your lover, then I'll learn to be content as just your friend."
It was a lie, all of it. I would never be happy to just be his friend, but if the choice was that or nothing, then I would take what I could get.
It struck me that once again I was holding back my true feelings and the desires of my heart because I was worried about scaring him off. It was like an echo of the tentative beginnings of our relationship when I was crippled by my confusion and fear, when I didn't know what to say or do.
All I knew then, just like now, was that I couldn't live without him.
I hated to do it, but I stole a peek into Seth's mind. His wounds were so fresh, and my words had opened old scars. Grief and guilt bled out everywhere. Desire. Betrayal. I could see him struggling under the weight of my declarations. He was overwhelmed and exhausted.
I wanted him to say something, anything, to assure me there was a future for us, but it was all too much for him.
I closed my eyes as I saw in his mind the words he would utter next.
"I can't handle this."
In his mind he apologized, but he didn't say it out loud.
I watched him turn and walk up to his room, every step slow and measured and heavy.
I'm absolutely petrified of losing you again.
Over the next five weeks, we fell into a careful, but comfortable, routine. Things between us were still painfully cautious, but it was bearable. I no longer needed to bully Seth into eating, or coming with me for a run. As to be expected, he still had days where his grief overwhelmed him, but for the most part it felt to me like he was slowly healing and finding his way back to life.
Seth mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, and then pulled himself closer to me. I could hear his heart rate speeding up and his breathing growing heavier.
I pushed the hair off his forehead to soothe him, startled as he let out a quiet moan and leaned his head into my hand.
I was well accustomed to the sounds of his sadness, and this was something altogether different. He sighed as I wrapped my arm back around him, breathy and soft - a sound that I had not heard for many years.
He pushed himself even closer to me, the heat of him spreading through my shirt, warming the frigid skin of my chest. Closer still, he was so hot...and hard. Hot and hard and rubbing against me, lost in his dream world.
He felt amazing.
I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining that we were lovers again, that I was the one he wanted, that I was the one who haunted his sleep. I imagined him breathing my name, calling out as he lost himself inside me.
My own desire flared as he continued to move against me. The feel of his body so close, so hot, his arousal pressing against me; it was sublime. Memories flooded my head, hundreds of intimate moments we had shared together, moments of love and ecstasy that I wanted to relive with him.
Without realizing what I was doing, I slipped inside his head.
He was dreaming of her.
She was lying beneath him, dark hair spread out on the pillow as she moved against him. Soft and warm and sweet. So utterly feminine. Fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle, they moved in unison, riding the same wave towards a shared bliss.
I cried out, the shock and despair so raw I almost felt physical pain in my chest. Inwardly, I cursed myself for my own stupidity. Of course, he was dreaming of her. I was foolish to think otherwise, to let myself entertain fantasies of us making love again.
I clenched my eyes shut, trying to erase the image of her ecstasy from my mind.
Carefully, I extracted myself from his embrace, intent on escaping to my own room. I wanted him so badly, but I couldn't stay here with him, knowing he was with me only in the physical sense. Staying here while he dreamed of making love to her, was simply torturous.
As I slid out of his arms, he moaned.
I glanced down; he was watching me. His eyes were hooded with lust, dark and glowing with need. He gripped my arm, pulling me back down to him.
I protested, but he captured my words with his mouth, crashing his lips to mine...
...and suddenly I was drowning.
Heat and spice invaded my mouth, rolling down my throat as his hands found their way to my face, holding me to him as he kissed me. The taste of him, so hot, more intense than I remembered, was overwhelming, and I groaned in pleasure as his tongue pushed against my lips.
Thoughts and emotions tumbled around in my head; I could barely form a coherent thought as he kissed me, my mind a riot of elation and joy.
He rolled me on top of him, reaching under my shirt to slide his hands against my back, pulling me against him. I supported my weight on one arm, my free hand sweeping across his shoulders, his collarbone, and over his chest, relishing the feel of his body as my fingertips remembered the contours of his body.
His kisses grew more urgent as my hands explored. I tasted the desperation on his breath.
In the back of my mind, I felt uneasy, fearful that this too, would disappear when the sun came up, that it was too soon, that he would run and I would never have the opportunity to be with him like this again.
But I couldn't stop myself from kissing him, touching him, breathing him in.
I want you, Edward.
I moaned against his mouth as his thoughts hit me. It had been so long, too long - I was nearly coming apart, drowning in desire.
I kissed along his jaw, the slight hint of stubble tingling my tongue as I licked at his skin. Every part of me felt like I was on fire. The heat of his hands roaming over my body, the sound of his heart thundering in his chest, the tangy scent of his skin; it was overwhelming.
My love for him, suppressed for so long, was finally free to ignite, and it was burning me from the inside.
I felt alive.
And I wanted to savour the delicious feeling that was making me feel lightheaded. Take my time to explore him, taste him, pleasure him, make the last ten years of abstinence melt away as I rediscovered every inch of his body.
But he had other ideas.
"Now," he begged, his voice raspy and hoarse.
In his mind, I could feel his desperation, painful and throbbing as he thrust his hips against mine. Raw and wretched, it was so different to how he had needed me before.
"Seth, are you sure? We don't have to rush," I pleaded with him. I pained me to say it, but I could feel that something wasn't right. He wanted me, there was no doubt in my mind, but it was with a desperation tinged with mourning. I wasn't sure that was how I wanted to remember our first time together.
You said you loved me.
I grimaced, not wanting to deny him, but wanting to wait all the same. If I rejected him now he would probably never give me the opportunity to love him again, but it felt so wrong...and so right. I no longer knew what I wanted. The truth was, I was already too far gone to say no, my own need to feel loved overpowering whatever rational thought I may have been clinging to.
Please...love me...show me...please...
His hands had moved to my pants, pulling them roughly down over my hips as he begged. Then he was tearing at my shirt, raking his fingernails down my chest, biting my lip. Pulling me closer, harder, crushing me to him.
We used to be passionate and intense, and I had loved that part of our relationship, the strength of our physical love just as powerful as our emotional connection, but this was rough. Rough and savage, the urgency and need radiating off him.
I wanted him to slow down, to enjoy the moment for what it was, but he was frenzied. He ripped at his own clothes, flinging them across the room. In his mind I could see the intense yearning to feel something that was driving him. The need to chase the pain and grief away was consuming him.
His desperation resonated with me. I knew all too well how it felt to lose yourself in an abyss of grief, but this wasn't how I wanted our first time.
I wanted to love him.
He knew I was listening, and he intentionally goaded me with erotic images of the two of us. Old memories sliding over new fantasies, our naked bodies entwined as we kissed and touched and...
He was quickly pushing me over the edge.
I growled, my paper-thin restraint giving way as he continued to push his fantasies at me, and I claimed his mouth with mine. He wanted me to make love to him, picturing me lying over him.
I hesitated.
Take me,
Fuck me,
Make the pain go away,
It wouldn't be the first time we had made love like that, but it would never be my choice. I was always too afraid of hurting him; even with his accelerated healing, I always worried I would lose myself in the moment and cause him pain. Seth was unrelenting, begging me, picturing us in his head, knowing I would never be able to refuse him anything.
I knew I would most probably hurt him, but it occurred to me in all likelihood that was what he wanted. To feel something other than grief. To feel claimed and loved in a way he never had with her.
"Yes," I whispered against the slick, sweaty skin of his neck, "Yes."
I licked my fingers, coating them in venom, and then slowly pushed inside of him. He moaned, and I grimaced as his mind registered the sting. I wanted to stop, but he thrust his hips, murmuring against my mouth as I tried to kiss his discomfort away.
"More."
I did my best to ready him, to make it good for him, and then I knelt between his legs. He looked so gorgeous, naked and yielding to me, his eyes sparkling with desire. I lowered my body to his, our bodies aligning and sliding against each other; ice and fire meeting in sparks of pleasure.
As we joined together, all my misgivings and all my doubts were forgotten. I captured his gasp with a kiss, and it soon turned to a moan of pleasure as he let me fill him. He was so hot and tight. So perfect.
I wanted to be soft and gentle with him, to take my time, but I couldn't. The need to feel every inch of him, to hear him moaning underneath me, to love him just the way he wanted me to, was impossible to ignore. Seth pushed against me, moving us faster and harder, and I let myself get swept away on the waves of ecstasy.
I could feel myself approaching the edge and I pushed myself up, reaching between us to bring Seth with me. I stroked him twice, then he shuddered, his warm seed spilling over my hand as he lost himself in the bliss.
Hearing my name on his lips was all it took for me to follow him, and I hurtled off the cliff, free-falling into pure joy and ecstasy.
Afterwards, we lay in each other's arms. I felt euphoric and intoxicated, high on love, never wanting this moment to end. Loving him again; it was as if all my wildest dreams had finally come true.
My heart was full of him, bursting at the seams, but it cracked in half as I heard him sobbing. I gathered him in my arms as his body shook.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Whispered words and tears against my chest. Over and over he apologized - to whom, or for what, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. He clung to me, his pleas fading to murmurs before he finally drifted off to sleep.
I held him tight, my darkest fears keeping me company through the night as I lay awake listening to him sleep.
That was the first night that Seth slept without nightmares haunting him. In the morning when he awoke, there was a lightness in his step and the guarded shadows in his eyes were gone. I dared to hope that his demons weren't chasing so close anymore.
He looked thoughtful as he ate breakfast. I watched him cautiously, still worried that he had been crying tears of regret during the night.
"I think I might go down to La Push today," he said eventually. "I'd like to see Mom...maybe even Sam."
I nodded, relief flooding my body and making my muscles uncoil. A wide grin broke out across my face. This was progress, normally it was me that had to convince him to go down to the Coast to see his mother. And the fact he was contemplating going to see the pack? I was overjoyed.
He glanced up at me, and it took me a moment to realize why he looked so breathtakingly stunning in that moment.
It was the first time he had smiled since he'd come home with me.
My Liege, My Love,
My Light,
My Life.
A/N:
The support for this story has been amazing - thank you. There's one more chapter to go. I know I said that last time, but I'm not very good with the outlining and it turns out Seth wanted to have his say too. It might even include some sort of epilogue-something and maybe even some...gasp...happy stuff. Maybe.
Much love and thanks to my dream team: Betham, Yellowglue and Naelany (consider this update your extra birthday present bb). I couldn't do this without them.
Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated!