I have officially posted my new story, Wild Ones, on my new FictionPress profile (the link is below). It's another supernatural story, but this time it's not about vampires :) I don't want to give any hints!

Unlike Satellite Heart, this story will have a lot more physical action and angst. To me, it is kind of everything opposite of Satellite Heart. If you're at all looking to take a peek, check on this FictionPress website for my update:

www. FictionPress .com/u/834525/ (My username is the same: BeachHouse)

Our Swords

I wiped my hands against my jeans and pushed a strand of hair from my face with the back of my hand.

"Audra, I don't think Ethan would be happy about this," Mary grimaced as she entered the kitchen.

I turned to look at her from my pile of clean dishes and shrugged my shoulders. "Who cares?" I took the used drying cloth from over my shoulder and threw it onto the counter in accomplishment. "He brought me here specifically for this purpose, so…" I decided Mary could figure out the rest.

"You are both so stubborn," she shook her head, her gray hair shining like strands of silver thread. "You're more alike than you think."

I ignored her last comment and opened the top cupboard, the door squeaking softly while I simultaneously reached down for a plate to put away. I heard the door shut and figured it was Mary leaving, but the sound of someone clearing their throat behind me came as a surprise as it was certainly not coming from Mary.

Without turning to look over my shoulder I greeted him, "Hi Ethan."

"What are you doing?" He sounded grim and I was actually surprised at how gloomy someone could be that early in the morning.

"I'm doing the dishes," I answered nonchalantly. "What are you doing?"

For a moment there was no answer, and then his voice was closer, just a few feet behind me. "I told you not to work in the kitchen anymore."

"That's fine, I'm finished in here anyway," I smiled to myself. "I'm thinking I'll go to the dining room next."

"And I'm thinking that you won't," Ethan said.

"Why, is there something else that needs cleaning?" I asked, finally turning around to face him. He was wearing a pair of black and gray plaid pajama pants with a white t-shirt, the most informal outfit he'd ever worn in front of me. It was easy to tell just by looking at his messy hair and eyes slightly squinted from a night's rest that he had just woken up. He looked warm, despite the fact that I knew his body temperature was actually colder than mine, and I imagined us lying in bed together, tangled in the soft comforter with our legs intertwined.

"I don't want you to clean anything," he elaborated. His voice was thick and a touch scratchy and I was wondering why, all of a sudden, he was letting me see this side of him. Yet, his exasperated tone both flustered and amused me. "Mary," he addressed her, and it was then that I realized she was still in the kitchen, though in the far corner twiddling with something quietly and minding her own business. She looked up at him, her eyes glancing once from mine to his. "Don't allow Audra back into this kitchen. If you so much as see her cleaning a single dish, I want you to tell me immediately."

She nodded silently, put the kitchen gadget back into the drawer, and walked out through the door. I frowned after her. Traitor.

"And you," Ethan's fiery gaze fell on me but I simply glowered back at him. "Don't you dare even think about coming into this kitchen unless you plan on eating breakfast."

"I thought I was just a servant?" I asked hotly, abandoning my calm nonchalance that I knew was flustering Ethan even further. Ignoring the heat that burned in my face as I realized I'd blurted out my reason for my little hissy-fit, I shrugged dramatically. "What am I supposed to do?"

At first he smirked, knowing immediately that I had obviously been troubled by what he told Christina. My stomach tightened at the provocatively inviting expression and I had to force myself not to swoon when his dark hair fell from its perfect place and hung across his forehead. I crossed my arms determinedly, mostly to remind myself that I had yet another battle to win.

"Consider yourself promoted," he gave in easily, his arm waving angrily as if magically transforming my title.

Originally I had been upset about Ethan's confession when he'd said that I was still regarded as a house servant, even after everything that had happened. Only now, when he was admitting it, I was even more upset. I had wanted to prove something. I narrowed my eyes even further at him. "Well, I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome."

Ethan's fists balled up and a quiet growl rumbled from deep within his chest. It was the first time I had mentioned leaving the mansion since the day I tried to escape, the second day I'd been here. The thought, I knew, made Ethan's blood boil. "You don't have to worry about that." He could detect my confusion. "You'll be gone as of tomorrow."

Instantly I felt my stomach twist in knots, as if someone had thrown a hard punch right at my gut. "What do you mean?" Had his plan as of last night changed?

"Oh don't worry," Ethan leered, mistaking my panic for excitement, "you won't be alone. I'll be there to keep you company." My panic quickly dissipated and I grew irritated that it had been there in the first place. Why was I so worried? Wasn't that what I wanted?

"Wait," I held my hand up as if to pause him, "let me guess: somewhere warm?"

Ethan was frozen. He looked suspicious, shocked, caught off guard. Then he suddenly chuckled while shaking his head and rubbed his hand over his mouth like he was trying not to let me see. "Let me get this straight," he laughed, his smile bright white, though he was trying, unsuccessfully, to stop. "You were eavesdropping on me?"

I scoffed, "What? No," I uncrossed my arms and set my hands on my hips, my cheeks reddening as I slowly realized that I had been.

"Weren't you the one who got upset when I listened in on one of your conversations?" He moved closer to me, still smirking teasingly as he referred to my conversation with Isaac the night of his birthday party.

I backed away, my finger pointing at him accusingly. "That was totally different." I could already feel my anger and frustration melting away with every second his playful behavior kept up. His happiness, however random or sometimes irritating it was to me, was so contagious. I could literally feel his spirits rise, and when I saw his eyes light up, my troubles were lifted away.

Ethan's eyes sparkled mischievously as he neared me. I held my arms out in front of me to stop him from grabbing hold, but his strength overwhelmed me. Obviously.

But instead of immediately burying his face into my neck or wrapping his arms around my middle, which were things he almost always did when we were alone, he put one strong arm behind my back and the other behind my knees, and whisked me up into his arms. For a brief second, no, not even that long, I panicked and wrapped my arms around his neck. After my lapse in judgment I quickly realized that it was impossible for Ethan to drop me, unless he wanted to, and relaxed against his solid body.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked in monotonous surrender. I had no choice but to lay helplessly in his arms, victim to his overpowering strength.

"Hawaii," he answered. I looked up at him in surprise; I'd been referring to where he was currently carrying me.

"Wait, I thought we were going out of the country?"

He looked down at me with a smirk, "Either you're psychic or you were definitely eavesdropping." I blushed. "I wanted to take you out of the U.S., but you don't have a passport," he explained. We were halfway up the stairs in the foyer now. "You'll need to get one of those soon."

When did things become so opposite? Just last night I was so upset with Ethan that I had cried myself to sleep, but now I was here, being carried in his arms like I was something precious to him. I hated myself for losing my determination and will to hate him. I pounded against his chest.

"Put me down," I ordered, though it was completely ignored. "Ethan," I threatened in a low voice.

He was pushing open the door to my bedroom with his foot. A few more steps and he was standing in front of the bed. For a fleeting moment I imagined an entirely different situation, one in which Ethan was wearing much less clothing than he was currently wearing…

Disgusted with myself, I lurched away from him so violently that the surprise almost caused Ethan to drop me. Instead he tossed me away and I landed on the bed with a few bounces.

"What's gotten into you?" He asked with an irritated expression, though I could hear a softness in his voice. "Why do you hate me so much?"

His question confused me. I didn't hate him, I hated myself. I was trying to get away from him because I didn't hate him. I had stopped hating him a while ago, though the exact day was unclear. Couldn't he see that? And if he was asking, did that mean he didn't want me to hate him?

"I…" It was harder to say than I imagined. "I don't…"

He looked at me skeptically and held up his hand, "Spare me." He walked to my closet and opened the door. "Do you need me to help you pack or will you cooperate?" His voice was back to its usual dead tone. When he looked me over, waiting for an answer to his question I had momentarily forgotten about, I noticed his face had lost all traces of humor and playfulness it had just a minute ago. His expressionless mask was back securely in place. At a loss for words I merely nodded my head. "Good," he nodded in praise, but still managed to sound displeased. "Be ready to leave tomorrow at six o'clock."

The horror of the possibility that I might have to wake up early broke me out of my daze, "In the morning?"

Ethan smirked, "The flight takes seventeen hours, and I didn't want to fly overnight. Can't take the risk of falling asleep," he said.

"Is it non-stop at least?" I tried.

But Ethan shook his head, "Two stops. I want to make sure we won't be followed."

I groaned, "This is going to be the worst vacation ever," and fell back onto my bed, my arms outstretched as I stared up at the ceiling gloomily.

Ethan, his voice coming from near the doorway, chuckled darkly. "I look forward to it. I recommend packing now so you can get to bed soon. We have an early day tomorrow."

I sighed and continued staring unblinkingly straight up. How was I going to make it through this? Time alone, in a warm, tropical, and not to mention common honeymoon hotspot, with Ethan?

Then his voice returned, and I jumped at the sound of it. I had thought he left the room. "By the way, you may want to get in touch with Hanna sometime today regarding your new wardrobe."

My face instantly screwed up in confusion and a new found horror, but when I sat up to rant or rage, he was already gone.

I growled, no comparison to Ethan of course, and pushed myself up from my bed in fury, bounding through the doorway in search of Hanna.