Eliana was quiet for a long time.

Caius wasn't used to silence. He tried to use the silence to focus on driving instead — he had precious cargo in the seat next to him — but that was no use. He tried to focus on thinking of what to say, or what he should say, but still nothing.

He wasn't Marcus, or Aro for that matter. He didn't do deep discussions about feelings. He never had. And he knew it was something he probably should improve on if he ever wanted to earn his mate's respect and forgiveness, but even after several millennia, he still had no idea how other people made heart-to-hearts look so easy.

"What are you thinking about?"

Eliana glanced at him and shook her head. "Nothing important," she replied.

"Tell me anyway," he said.

She didn't respond. Clearly she didn't want to. He supposed that Aro would probably see later, and if it was something important the message could easily be relayed to him. Far be it from him to force her to divulge if she didn't feel like sharing.

She spoke some minutes later, but her words were soft. "Do you really think that little of me?"

Caius took a good few moments to process her question.

"Little?" he repeated incredulously. "You think I think you little?"

He could smell the salty tang of her tears before he saw them. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter — it was lucky they'd specifically modified and reinforced every vehicle in their possession to be safer for immortals to operate, or else he would have ground it to dust already.

They were reaching a straight stretch of woodland road. Caius pulled the car over onto a grassy verge beside the road and turned off the engine.

Coming to a moment of realisation, Eliana shook her head insistently and began to hastily brush away tears with the back of her hand. "I'm fine, keep driving."

"I think we have very different ideas of fine," he retorted, giving her a moment to speak for herself. "Eliana–"

"I said I'm fine," she snapped. She exhaled with a very obvious tremble. "Just forget I said anything."

Caius was starting to feel very out of his depth. This obviously wasn't something he could just leave and forget. And even if he could bring himself to, it would be a bad idea on so many levels. Marcus already had him by the balls for daring to hurt his mate, and at the moment Aro was just a ticking time bomb himself. He'd have to deal with this one alone and on the side of the road.

He allowed her a moment to cool off before speaking. "Eliana, why won't you talk?"

"About what?" she bit back.

"You know exactly what," he told her. "I don't. So enlighten me."

She gritted her teeth stubbornly. It made it easier to know that she was just as bad at this as he was.

"You wouldn't tell me because you can't trust me," she said tersely. "Because humans are too weak to be involved in supernatural affairs. Because I'm no more important to you than any other human."

He watched her pull her knees up, her feet resting on the surface of her seat. She chewed her lip anxiously as she stared into the thick foliage ahead of them and started to consciously stem the flow of tears from her eyes.

He sat back defeatedly. "Is that really what you think?"

She turned her head sharply. Her clear blue eyes glistened, her brows drawn together. "I'm not important to this coven in my current state."

"You, a human, are without a doubt the single most important being to this coven. I assigned Afton and Chelsea — two of our most valuable guards — to you and you alone. Their entire purpose for the foreseeable future is to keep you safe when we–"

"I know that," she cut in impatiently. "I'm not stupid, Caius."

"I don't think you're stupid, if that is what you're suggesting," he said.

Eliana took a deep breath and settled into her seat. She stared glassy-eyed out of the windshield. It was as if she was contemplating climbing out of the car and making her way back to Volterra on foot. He noticed her fingers move restlessly against her knees.

He considered starting the engine up again. This clearly wasn't an argument she wanted to have now. But it was as he reached for the keys that he realised she wouldn't have this argument anywhere. She wouldn't argue with him.

And this was exactly what Marcus had suggested. Consequence after consequence. Some related to their shared bond — the nausea, the insomnia, the restlessness. Others very much external to that. Bond or not, no sane human would continue to argue with a man who had openly proven just how simple it would be to silence them permanently.

He would never. It simply wouldn't happen. But humans weren't known for being rational.

"Nothing will ever be as important to me as you."

The tone he took on was sharp and biting. Eliana looked at him bemusedly with her eyebrows furrowed. "Huh?"

"You don't seem to want to realise the lengths I would go for you. Have you any idea the amount of true mate instincts I had to ignore in order to keep you hidden from your own ability? Do you honestly believe I didn't want to tell you? Are you really so narrow-minded that you believe I don't trust you? Eliana, I'd trust you with my life and then some — but not that it matters, because you've somehow managed to convince yourself that I think little of you, that you're somehow intellectually inferior to me."

At some point, Caius realised he was borderline ranting, and in the very snappish tone Marcus had specifically stressed he didn't use. Eliana stared at him, mouth agape.

"I may not have the gifts of my brothers, but I have never been so sure of anything in my life — you are perfect in every possible way and I will never do anything to intentionally hurt you. Nothing you could ever say or do or be could possibly make me care about you any less. And if you really think you are no more important to me because you are human and that I wouldn't do anything to keep you safe and happy, then I really don't know what else I can say. You have successfully left me speechless, a feat very few have ever been able to accomplish, so congratulations. And after all this time, you still seem to be under the cluelessly mistaken impression that I love you only because you are my mate, and not that you are my mate because I love you–"

Eliana threw herself at him. He caught her easily before she could hurt herself, but he hardly needed to move her onto his lap before she was already clinging tightly to him.

Any doubts or reservations he may have had were long forgotten. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply. It was instinctive. He knew exactly where to place his hands, exactly how to hold her, exactly where to kiss her. Exactly what to say and what she needed to hear.

Her breathing was shaky. She'd pressed herself up as close to him as was physically possible. Her front was flush against his, and the warmth flooding his chest was immediate.

Eliana sniffled. "Caius . . ." she trailed off.

"Ssh." His shoulder started to dampen with her tears. "It's alright, carina."

Caius stayed like that for as long as she seemed to need. The time crept on, but with her in his arms it felt as though no time had passed at all.

Until he felt the telltale slowing of her heartbeat against his chest and the slow relaxing of her muscles as her body went limp on top of his. She snoozed against his ear, as if oblivious to where she still was and the conversation they'd just had less than an hour ago.

He supposed it made sense. The strain had stopped her from getting any sleep at all the previous night. He could still detect the faint lingering scent of bile on her. She'd subconsciously twisted her arm up at an odd angle that he could only guess was easier on her shoulder.

Fuck, she was exhausted. He'd never seen her this drained before.

He reached for his phone in his pocket. She made a small whimpering sound and nuzzled closer to him. He found himself instinctively purring against the shell of her ear in response.

Once he was sure she was settled enough, he lifted his head to check the time. He knew it was probably wise to get her back to Volterra and leave her to rest somewhere far more comfortable before it got too late. Besides, it wasn't as though she'd finished her meal either — she could probably do with some sustenance too.

A notification pinged on his phone. He hastily lowered the volume.

Aro:

She's feeling a lot calmer now. I take it that went well?

Caius:

She's exhausted.

Aro:

I can imagine.

Is she asleep? Where are you now?

Caius:

Fast asleep. We're about an hour away.

Aro:

Keep a window open so she doesn't feel too sick.

And make sure she stays hydrated and warm.

Caius stopped reading the rest of the messages. He knew perfectly well how to take care of his mate without Aro's insistent guidance on humans and their requirements. And no being — human or vampire — did he know better than Eliana.

He tentatively moved her from his lap back into her vacant seat, with the window beside her open by just a small amount. She didn't stir, not even as he draped his black woollen coat over her and fastened her seatbelt. She really was fast asleep.

Good. If there was one thing he'd managed to get right today, it was helping her to rest. It was a step in the right direction, and he knew that was the most he could ask for.

With a small sigh, he started up the engine again, turned on the headlights, and pulled the car back out onto the road.

Eliana woke up again just as they were pulling back into the garage at the very bottom of the castle. When she'd asked Caius to come with her to the kitchen to get her something to eat, he'd very reluctantly confessed that he had some kind of meeting to attend, with some kind of politician in some country about something. Not that she could remember the specifics of it.

Nor did she mind, really. She was used to it. They were busy, just as they had been for the last few thousand years. It would be unfair to expect them to drop everything for her.

With a kiss on the top of her head and a promise to return later, Caius left her in the kitchen under the careful supervision of Afton. She didn't spend much time searching the pantry before she located exactly what she was looking for.

The contents of the food packet plopped into the saucepan with a splash that narrowly missed splattering her exposed hands with scalding hot water. She placed the empty packaging down and lifted her head from the pan.

She didn't really startle at this kind of thing anymore. Tanya and Kate must've entered while she was distracted with preparing her half-hearted excuse for a meal. Between them, they carefully poured measured amounts of a hefty container of deer blood into pretty pink metallic flasks that looked as though they'd been designed to contain fancy lattes, not bodily fluids.

The pair didn't look at her; their honey-eyed gazes were focused on something over her shoulder. She felt someone shift just behind her, but she didn't need to turn to see who it was.

Eliana held her arm up between Afton and the two Denali women. "Does this have to happen every time?" she asked tiredly.

Tanya smiled sympathetically. "It's alright," she replied. "We'll just get out of your hair and leave you to your . . ."

She trailed off. She took a brief look at the contents of the saucepan Eliana was lethargically stirring.

". . . spicy ramen."

Kate finally spoke up. "Weren't you just–?"

"Yes," Eliana interjected. If someone even breathed another word about her embarrassing stunt that morning, she'd consider sacrificing herself as willing vampire food.

Tanya vaguely smirked at a slowly retreating Kate. "You should probably stop talking since it was you who started–"

"No," Eliana cut in quickly. She busied herself with adjusting the temperature of the stove. "No, I'm . . . I'm glad you told me. Who knows how long I would've otherwise gone without knowing for?"

All three vampires in the room uttered the word "years", mostly in unison. Eliana felt as though the dagger in her heart was slowly being twisted around — a group of immortals who had known her mates for far longer than she had were convinced that they genuinely would've withheld that secret for that long.

Ouch.

Even if she did to some degree understand why her mates were so hesitant around her in her human form, it didn't mean that their secretiveness didn't hurt.

Tanya nudged Kate a little. "It's like Dora's gift all over again, isn't it?" she remarked offhandedly.

"Who's Dora?" Eliana asked, plainly out of curiosity.

Everyone went uncomfortably silent. Not just Tanya and Kate, but Afton too. It was as if she was being kept away from some kind of conspiracy. Or maybe they were really that nervous that something they'd say would threaten her relationships again.

Now it was Kate's turn to smirk. "What were you just saying about starting–?"

Tanya ignored her. "Dora is short for Athenodora," she explained.

"Oh." Eliana nodded. "Caius' ex wife?"

She looked up and couldn't help but notice the relief on Tanya's face. Apparently all it took was a casual tone and audible assurance that she honestly didn't care that much about her mates' previous relationships for everyone in the room to loosen up and take a breath, figuratively speaking.

"Yes," Tanya confirmed. "We used to catch up every few decades. I mean . . . I assume we still do."

She looked at Kate in question, the latter of which nodded.

"They're in Denmark," Kate told her. "Sul messaged me a few days ago on a new number."

Sulpicia, Eliana inwardly concluded. Aro's ex wife, if she remembered right.

"Anyway, Dora has the gift of photokinesis," Tanya continued. "She was immortal and all, but I guess your mates didn't want her to know for some reason. I don't know. You'd have to ask them."

Leaning closer as if oblivious to the looming shadow Afton was casting over his charge, Kate whispered conspiratorially. "I hear she took one of Aro's fingers off for that one."

Eliana pursed her lips. The image of Aro having one of his own fingers snapped off for withholding valuable information — at times like this she wished she was immortal, instincts to never harm true mates be damned. And the balls it takes to do that to one of the Volturi leaders, regardless of any mate bonds, was impressive.

"You're still up for visiting some time next month, are you?" Tanya asked. Kate zipped across the room and back, depositing the container of deer blood away. "Eleazar says you've never been to Alaska."

Afton leaned around her; his eyebrows were raised. "Yes, Eli. Are you?"

And Afton was right — was she? She hadn't cleared this with anyone yet, not that she remembered. She'd half-jokingly suggested a visit a few days ago, but not with the intention of anyone following that suggestion through. And besides, had her mates even–?

She caught herself quickly. She had to stop doing that, relying on their input for her decisions. For fucks sake, she was an adult and she could do as she pleased.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but . . ." Eliana shrugged, "is there even anything to do in Alaska?"

Kate and Tanya exchanged a look. Kate was the one who chose to answer. "We have snow."

"Sold."

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Author's note: I genuinely can't wait to introduce the ex wives at some point down the line. I also can't wait to finally fix my sleep schedule because I wrote this on about 5 hours of sleep.