Chapter 62

Chapter 62
To Andrew, it was just a simple peck of admiration. He did not notice that the soft, swift touch of his lips on her skin almost made her swoon again. She gathered herself together and plopped down next to him.

“Why do you talk mean to me while fighting?” she asked.

He smiled. “That is what warriors do. It is mental warfare. Wearing down the enemy emotionally and physically.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, and she added playfully, “You mighty beast of an ogre.”

He smiled at her. “You are hardly wet with sweat.” He was drenched from the exercise.

“We women do not sweat, we glow.” Her look of serious reflection melted into shared laughter. Their earlier awkward kiss was forgotten.

 

Or not.

“Diana,” he said, “you are amazing, and believe me, all I ever want now is to have you with me all the time, but you need to think about it okay? However, you are getting good at this. You sneak around your sire to learn to kill and fight—and you are good. You are really good. You are intellectually curious, and you want to see the world, yet you are still too young for this bond. I want you all the way, heart, and soul that was dedicated to the band forever, and I hope you understand what I meant," he said while looking at the family of the troll, who seems rather busy with doing a snow camp and preparing food for the morning to come.

 

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, you are still a jerk. Don't you ever kiss me again. I won't allow it."

 

"You started it, Diana. May I remind you of that?" he remarked, still tapping his fingers.




 

It was true. She started it as being the spitfire stupid that she was. “That's not my point.”

He stopped tapping, looking serious through his lashes. He sighed desperately. “I know!”

Diana’s serious expression returned in an instant. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. It was a solely loose one that had come out of her otherwise usual tightly wrapped and bound hair bun.

 

“Just don't mess up with me. Don't tease me, Andrew. I have no choice for that matter, I may be the one who started it, but you like it, and your responses concede it.” Diana blinked a couple of times, adjusting her eyes to the brighter light in the camp fire.

“I know—”

“If you are going to deny that there is something with that kiss, I'll kill you right here, right now," she gulped, her cheeks burning beneath his glittering gaze. 

He smirked. “I'm not denying anything; it's just, um, not that right time yet,” he said and reached out, grabbing her hand.

Diana felt the warmth of his touch right down to the soles of her feet. She stood and raised a brow. They were some of the most painful words she had ever heard, and her already tight chest constricted even further. "I do not want to be in a mess, and I just enjoy doing some mundane, surprising action from time to time, so do not, I repeat, do not burn bridges with your silly stupid ideals of mate bond, and it wasn't even a decent kiss... to let you fucking know that I do have female desires as well."

 

He smiled. “That would make you the perfect mate, I guess,” he said, eager to shift the mood and change the subject. He’d spent the better part of days thinking about Diana; it was time he got his mind on other things.

 

Why the hell did he just smile?

 

Andrew continued, “Those female desires will soon be opened up like a flower blossom when you engage in the sacred mate bond rite with me.” He winked.

She blushed through a moment of uncomfortable silence. “I wish I could be a mate to a normal man—someone who was not a jerk, for that matter, like you. Oh, I forgot. You're an asshole."

He raised a brow at her.

She gulped. Did she say too much?

 

Andrew looked at her seriously. He watched her sighed as he inhaled the familiar scent of her fragrance that always seemed to linger in the air, “Me too, darling.” It was one of his many affectionate nicknames for her. He would call her “sweet, dear,” so she responded by calling him “whatever my lord,” an obvious mockery.

 

His whole expression shifted from happiness to despair. He knew the consequences of being mated to someone like him. He knew the ultimate end of bearing his heirs. It always irked him. On the one hand, the vampires were supreme amongst the supernatural and had the right to their mates. Seers and vampires altogether were, after all, so unique that she was the first of her kind. But on the other hand, how could such an unusual certainty be part of his life? Such fate? He doesn't want to risk her. Offspring or not. He wanted her so badly that he also wanted her alive.

 

“What happens after our mating? Was it like a human marriage?” Diana asked.

 He was surprised by her questions and didn’t bother to hide the fact.

"Yes, of the sort. But way more bound, more intense, and bearing offspring would be hard; some took centuries and dozens of failures for that matter. Yet, the importance of the mate bond was,” he said. He could not bring himself to tell her. Instead, his silence and the look of dread on his face spoke loudly.

 

She nodded her head in understanding. “Would you let us try for offspring, Andrew?”

 

His heart nearly broke in two. Could he tell her that it was so risky on her part?

Had he not been too careful?

He immediately looked uncomfortable.

Secretly trained her to stand up for herself, fight with weapons, and battle like a master. Yet she now stood on the verge of her never-ending questions, and he would do everything to keep her safe and to never lose her for eternity. Giving him offspring would be too risky for her. And he knew that so well.

She could almost read his mind without even trying.

He was scared for her, and she knew it.

Diana struggled to hold back a flood of tears, ready to burst. She did the only thing she could do. She diverted the question. “See, I understand I exist to annoy you, not to question your bewilderment ideals, right?” She smiled, but deep inside she wanted to cry. It was the virtuous acknowledgment, the proper answer, her duty. And she did not believe it for one second.

“Andrew,” she said and sighed.

He kept staring out into space.

“Andrew?”

He looked into her eyes. He could not avoid her tender soul as he sighed.

“We will mate someday, and you belong to me and I belong to you, and I hope you can wait until I'm ready enough. But for heaven sake, stop being so annoying—” she said, thinking she should move and put space between them, thinking she should pull away and not like the touch of his hand so much, but she didn’t.

He nodded his head and smiled at her. “I know, and I will, ” he said, his voice sharp, almost breathless as he cut her off. 

Andrew was about to speak, completely unaware of her hand on his.

Both lost themselves in their own thoughts.

Andrew had been accused of being so selfishly minded that he lacked practicality, but it was not true. A familiar ache pressed between his ribs, and he looked at his reflection on the small coin on his left hand. He twirled the coin with his thumb and forefinger. It was heavier than he remembered.

Memories seeped through him. And regrets. And grief. For so long, he’d felt it hovering like a shadow. Afraid to remember. Afraid to forget. Wondering if he’d ever feel whole again, Andrew slipped the coin off, brought it to his lips for a moment, and then placed it in his pocket again.

He wasn’t sure why, but he knew it was time.