Better Left Forgotten

*Vlamira*

Over the next few days they brought me trays of food fancy enough to make even a king envious. Every time they placed those trays filled with rich delicacies in front of me, I’d turn my head and would stubbornly refuse to eat. Each day the food grew fancier as if the cooks were trying to impress me enough to eat, but even though my stomach growled in protest, I set my jaw choosing instead to peer out the small window (I regretfully could not squeeze through) at the far end of the room.

With every hour that ticked by, the bitterness and anger within me swelled and flowed through my veins with the consistency of black tar. Finally on the third day, the anger that consumed me pushed me to become destructive. I suddenly found myself sweeping those intricate vases off of the fire place mantel and watching them smash to pieces on the floor. I threw the dinner trays they brought me against the window and tore the tapestries off the walls so that I could tear them to pieces. I smashed plate, after plate towards the open doorway where a frightened servant hovered. She shrieked and quickly shut the door before the piece of fine china could find its mark, leaving me to my fury. A feral cry wrenched itself from my throat as I shattered the bathroom mirrors with the end of a fire poker.

Exhausted from my sudden bout of rage, I collapsed to the floor where shards of glass mercilessly cut into the palms of my hands. My shoulders shook but I bit back the sound that wanted to spill from my lips. I forced back the tears that wanted to break lose. I would not cry.

Hearing the bathroom door open I looked up to see Lucian standing in the doorway, a sad look on his face. Then suddenly, he caught site of the blood on my hands from the shattered pieces of glass and he made a move to reach for me, a concerned expression covering up his sadness.

Clenching my fist around the fallen fire poker, I swung it at him. “Don’t touch me!” I spat and even though he caught my poor swing with his hand, I continued to hold on to my weapon. The poker was made of iron, but I ignored the burning sensations that traveled up my arm and stared at Lucian with all the anger I could muster.

~Vlamira, put down the fire poker~ someone whispered softly in my thoughts. Momentarily surprised, my grip on the fire poker loosened and then Lucian was stealing it from my grasp and throwing it a safe distance away from us.

“What was that?” I asked looking around. Did werewolves have the power to send thoughts?

“It was my thoughts love.” Lucian stated and the warm silver of his eyes urged me to ask questions. Deciding I was too curious not to, I humored him.

“How? I’m not a werewolf so how is that possible?” My curiosity was far too overpowering to hide and I watched as a knowing look crossed Lucian’s face.

He reached for me again and I leaned away just before he could touch me. “If you let me treat your wounds, I promise you I’ll tell you why I can send you thoughts.” Lucian urged and offered me his hand as if coaxing a wild animal from its den. I watched him apprehensively before tentatively reaching out and taking his outstretched hand. He squeezed my hand lightly before helping me stand up. I winced as the glass cut through the soles of my feet and then gasped when I was suddenly being lifted into Lucian’s arms. Unconsciously, I clutched his shirt when we began moving but when I saw him smile at the gesture, I quickly released my hold and scowled up at him suddenly remembering how much I hated him.

Gently, he set me on the bed and went back to the bathroom where he returned with a medical box. I watched him quietly as he began carefully examining my hands. His touch was light and gentle as he cleaned away the blood and I watched as his brow furrowed as he took in my wounds. “Where did these burns come from?” He asked looking up at me and I shrugged. I could tell he wanted to ask me more but then thought better of it and applied the medicine.

“So how am I able to hear your thoughts?” I asked suddenly. His mouth quirked up a little and I jumped when he leaned forward and lightly kissed my palm. If it weren’t such a loving kiss I probably would have reached over and tore a fistful of his hair out. The gesture however, was so tender it made all of the bitterness within me to falter. When he noticed my reaction, or lack of reaction thereof, he gave me a small smile with this annoying little knowing look in his eyes that had me ripping my hand away from him and scowling at him again.

“You can hear the thoughts I send because we are mates. Over time as the mate bond grows stronger, you will be able to do this as well and even begin to feel my emotions.” A moment later a woman came in carrying a silver tray piled up with food. When she set it in front of me I suddenly remembered why I hated Lucian in the first place. It worried me that I kept forgetting.

“You marked me.” I said accusingly and I nearly missed the guilt that crossed Lucian’s face before it was replaced by a determined look.

“I did what I had to do.” He said in a tone that left no room for argument. When I opened my mouth to throw more insults his way and state just how much I hated him, he pushed the newly brought in tray closer to me.

“Eat.” He commanded and something in the way he said it made the defiance in my blood to surge. Stubbornly, I refused the cutlery he offered me and said tartly, “No thanks, I’d rather just starve.” Remotely, I could hear a distant rumbling as if he was desperately trying to suppress an angry growl from ripping loose from his chest. Feeling a little smug at this accomplishment, I continued looking out the window and refusing his gaze.

“I will not leave until you have eaten everything on this plate Vlamira.” He urged and when I glanced over at him, I saw the resolve written clearly on his face. “Or I promise you, I will make you eat every last bite.” He continued and for the first time I recognized that the same stubbornness that was in me was also present in Lucian.

Finally, after a fierce battle of wills, I reluctantly surrendered and took a ferocious bite out of a green apple. Before that smug look could cross his face, I couldn’t resist shooting his small little victory down. “I’m only eating again so that when I get my strength back, I can proceed to beat the hell out of you.”