Shadow Guardians: The Promised
Chapter 7

After her shift with Maggie had ended, Marionette made her way through the corridors of the coven house to their living pad.

She’d stitched up a shoulder, taken a piece of metal out of a wound, and cared for a black eye. And she was tired, hungry, and achy. But not into eating whatsoever. A bath, and then bed.

Guilt found her at times because of not joining the brothers and their females for dinner, but she didn’t want to open up the doors to questions about her choices of class down in the training center.

As she passed by the library, she heard the loud voices that could only mean there was an argument ongoing. She paused in the corridor.

“Absolutely not!” Magnus. She pressed her palm to the wall to listen. “I will not allow it.”

“But,” Uriah tried.

“No way. If that’s the way it is with her, you can forget it.”

Oh no, had he told them? Marionette’s heart was palpitating, and she pressed a palm to her chest. I told him not to tell them!

“But Magnus, maybe...”

“I said no.”

“It would just be a waste of time, anyway.” Zachiel said.

Marionette stepped back from the wall. She was just a waste of time? Whatever else was said faded away in the dizziness that overwhelmed her. She turned and ran back to their living pad.

No. Uriah’s living pad.

She didn’t belong here.

She shut the door just in time for her to sink down against it, and break wide open.

As she sat on the cold floor with her knees hugged in and sobs racking through her, the realization struck her that she didn’t belong anywhere. Not in her birth home, and not here.

Maybe the dream she had of the goddess Astera was just that - a dream. What if they’d had it wrong this whole time?

But the goddess had already scarred Uriah’s heart with her name - her lengthy, aristocratic name that must’ve hurt like the abyss.

Did the goddess expect them both to leave this house?

She was more afraid of being homeless, being covenless, than going back to her father. They wouldn’t be safe on their own out there. The chances of Uriah dying in battle would be far higher, and with it, the possibility that she’d be left all alone.

Oh gods, why did he have to tell them? She knew they would react this way.

She wept so hard that her ribs started hurting, and her breaking heart eclipsed everything around her into darkness.

A knock on the door startled her. Well, it wasn’t a knock anymore. Now it was banging.

“Mari!” Uriah called, “Open the door.”

Only then did she remember she was still collapsed on the floor in front of it. Her limbs felt as if they’d been tied down to heavy boulders, but with monumental effort she managed to drag herself away from the door.

Uriah was reeling when he stormed into the living pad and found her in a hysterical mess on the floor. Panic and adrenaline undulated through his veins.

He forced a deep breath in and crouched down by her side, laying a trembling hand on her shoulder. “Beauty? What’s wrong?”

Her dismayed eyes found him. How could he now pretend in front of her? Why not just tell her outright?

Why lie to her?

She merely shook her head and let out another shuddering sob. Her body was immensely pained now, and she felt utterly weak.

“Beauty, this isn’t good for you now, with your transition so close.”

She didn’t seem like she wanted to tell him what all this was about. He gathered her in his arms and lifted her. Sensing her body’s pain, he laid her down on their bed and covered her with the blankets.

Uriah rested his forearms by her sides and brought his face down into the crook of her neck. He didn’t kiss her, just rubbed his cheek against her nape.

The friction of skin against skin released his bonding scent from his pores, and it calmed her relentless weeping.

When she stilled beneath him, he lifted his face to look into her very swollen and red eyes. He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.

“Who hurt you, beauty? What’s wrong?”

She avoided his eyes. “It’s nothing,” she croaked out.

“Oh, don’t give me that. I’ve never seen you so upset, not even when I took you away from your father’s house. Come on, beauty, talk to me. You know you can trust me.”

His bonding scent invaded her nose, and as much as she didn’t want it to happen because she wanted to stay angry at him, her strained body went lax, and calm oozed into every crevice of her. She pressed her cheek against his arm, wanting to cuddle deep into him.

“Please,” she whispered, and she didn’t even know what she was asking for.

But he seemed to know. Uriah laid down next to her and spooned tightly against her, both of them curled up into fetal positions.

“Tell me, nerei.” He pressed.

And that blasted bonding scent broke down all her barriers.

“I heard you arguing in the library.” Her voice was shaky, and her lips thinned as she tried to rein in her urge to cry even harder.

“What did you hear exactly?” Uriah asked after a moment of silence.

A sob broke through, and he held her tighter. “Shh, it’s okay. You can tell me,”

“I’m... I’m a waste of time. They don’t want me...” she shuddered out and hiccupped a breath in.

Uriah frowned, then understanding dawned on him, and he began chuckling softly. “Oh nerei, it’s not what you think.”

“I told you not to tell them!” She uttered with as much fury as she could muster.

“I know,” Uriah answered calmly, “that’s why I did. Beauty, you completely misunderstood the situation.”

She wanted to shrug off the hand that caressed her thin arms ever so tenderly, but found she didn’t have the strength for it. She craved and rejected it simultaneously.

“I heard Magnus tell you he wouldn’t allow it.” She bit out.

“Yes, he wouldn’t allow you to go to the arena. I suggested that maybe it was a good idea for you to learn some form of self-defense in any case while you study with Maggie. I don’t want you to be defenseless. He was all on board with you helping her, by the way.”

Mari knitted her brow.

“But he said he wouldn’t allow you to learn downstairs with the other nosferi, especially now with your transition nearing. They can be too rough and tough sometimes. And it would just be a waste of time now anyway, while your body is weakening. Zachiel suggested it would be best to wait until after, and then maybe Arlena or Katherine or Ophelia could teach you some moves if you’re interested.”

Speechless, she turned her head to look into his eyes to see if he was being truthful.

As if he’d ever lied to her.

His expression was soft, luring her into a comforting blanket of love.

“Magnus even suggested we could send you to university, but I argued that too, and told him I’d miss you too much. You wouldn’t mind doing distance learning, would you?” His fingers brushed over her cheek.

A half-sob, half-laugh escaped her, and she bit her bottom lip. “They, they accepted me?”

Uriah seemed confused. “I told you they would. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going to come clean with them, but I just couldn’t keep it to myself any longer, nerei. It doesn’t work that way in the brotherhood. And speaking of the way things work, they never would have let you go. You’re with me. And I’m initiated. I’m their blood-brother. They would have to send me away with you.”

“But I’m so different from you all,”

Uriah’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “You ever seen that portrait on the wall in the library of that gentleman with the dark hair with the gray at the temples?”

She nodded and wiped a stray tear with the palm of her hand.

“Well, that’s Marklorn. Their father. He was an aristocrat just like you, and he balanced that with being a warrior.”

She frowned. “He doesn’t look like a warrior?”

“Why? Because he wears a suit instead of leathers? Because he has a cane in his hands instead of a sword? Do I look like a demon-slaying warrior when I slouch around here watching Nascar in baggy sweatpants and a box of cookies on my lap?”

She giggled some. “I suppose not.”

Uriah regarded her with affection. “You may not think it now, but you will get the craving, beauty. And then you’ll want to go out with us. Nobody is going to expect you to do it every night. We all know it’s not the end all be all for you. You can come with us when it suits you.

And besides, you have your own role to play here. We never knew how much Maggie was needed until she opened her clinic. She’s a vital part of the team, just like you are.”

Her chin quivered, and she started crying again, though now he had the sense that it was more out of relief.

“Are you sure you understood them correctly?”

She couldn’t believe that they would just accept her for who she was so easily. Her father always had high expectations for her, and she struggled to live up to them. He would frequently remind her of her failures, emphasizing the disappointment she was to the family name.

She was used to striving to meet other people’s standards. How was it now that she was accepted so unconditionally, simply because she was promised to Uriah?

Uriah smiled. “Magnus wants to see you sometime about the university situation. You should go talk to him.”

Relief spilled over through tears, and he held her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

“I’ll draw you a bath, and then you have to eat beauty,”

“I don’t feel well enough to eat.” She said softly.

“I know. But this took a lot out of you. Even just a few bites will help.”

Since she was too tired to object, she just gave a slight nod.

Uriah called the servants and ordered them to bring dinner to their living pad, while she soaked in a warm bath infused with lavender oil. It eased her headache and the knots in her muscles.

When the warm water started making her feel groggy, she got out and wrapped a towel around herself. When she went back into the living space, she giggled when she found Uriah standing with a thick fluffy oatmeal robe in his hands - with his eyes firmly shut with an iron will. He hadn’t once looked at her naked body since she knew him.

For some reason, she wished now he would. But she was too much of a chicken to ask. She took the robe and felt it was warm to the touch.

“Did you put this in the tumble dryer?” She asked as she threw it around herself.

“Me? Why, I would never waste electricity like that...”

She felt a strange heat flicker down low. It vanished as quickly as it came, however, and it left her with the strange feeling of wanting to be one with him, as if she could somehow climb inside of his skin.

Thinking of that brought back the slight rush, and she had to part her lips.

Then it was gone again.

“I’m,” she cleared her throat because her voice sounded croaky, “I’m modest.”

Uriah opened his eyes and immediately steered her toward the dining table, hiding the temptation that had roused him.

Good gods, what was that? His eyes were closed, but her want hit his nose and went straight to his head. And not the one on his neck.

He sat down opposite her, thankful that her eyes didn’t leave his. Lizbeth brought their food and once she’d left, Uriah spoon-fed Mari.

“Open,”

She giggled. “I can feed myself, you know.”

“I know. Now open.”

She yielded and took the spoon of porridge in her mouth, and realized he was utterly content every time she did, like it was an honor to feed her.

He alternated between feeding her and eating his own dinner, giving her stomach a chance to settle before she ate more.

And when she really couldn’t eat anymore, he ushered her into bed and fell down beside her.

“Want to watch a movie?” He asked, doubting that she would even stay awake through it. All that emotion had drained her dry, and digestion was now going to steal the rest of her energy.

Still, she answered, “Sure,” while hiding an enormous yawn with her hand.

Uriah smiled and leaned in to kiss her beautiful mouth. And for the first time that night, her skin started feeling all prickly and warm when his velvety lips met hers. She folded and unfolded her fingers, then brought her hands around his waist.

Uriah realized that she was starting to feel arousal, because her transition was nearing, but she was still so inexperienced, and he resented that blasted body part of him which kept rising to the occasion when it had no right to, yet.

He broke their kiss and cradled her face in his hand, both of them flushed.

“I’ll put on something boring,” to kill the heat, “so you can sleep faster.” He said, his voice gruff.

She only nodded, too stunned by her body’s reaction to think of anything else.

He put on the longest, most boring movie he could replace, which happened to be Dunkirk.

She laid her head on his chest, cradled in his arm, and listened more to his heartbeat than to the television. She crashed hard into sleep five minutes later.