Authors: Lydia Michaels
“Permitted?”
Cursing under his breath
he quickly lifted the pitcher and rushed back into the den. His feminist mother
looked irate.
“Christian, why has
Delilah not been able to leave?”
Flustered, he filled a
glass of water and handed it to his mate. He filled another and shoved it in
his mother’s direction, nearly splashing it over the rim. “Your water, Mother.”
She took it and tapped
her foot impatiently. Her fiery red hair was pulled so tight it retained the
menacing set to her eyes, which was now accentuated with her anger. Adriel was
a female to consider carefully. No male wanted to be on her bad side, because
once they were, they regretted it. She was obviously upset with him.
Still, he wasn’t going
to start his marriage under her regime. He was a grown male, three centuries
old and this was
his
mate.
“Remember yourself,
Mother.”
“Remember myself?” She
scoffed. “You must be confused, son. I remember myself quite well. Now tell me
why your mate has yet to find proper attire and has not yet left the house.”
His jaw popped. “I will
remind you this is
my
home and I am an elder of this Order—”
“Pish!” She waved a
hand. “Do not sit here and feed me that line of manure. I am your mother and I
asked you a question.”
“And my answer was that
it is not of your concern.”
Her glare turned hard.
He didn’t blink. “Christian,” she said in less a warning tone and more of a
pleading one. “Don’t be like him.”
“I’m nothing like him.
But you will respect my position in this family all the same. Do not come into
my home and try to step on my authority. I am not Eleazar and this is not
Council Hall. This is my home and my family, which I hold the right to set the
law for without question.”
Her posture stiffened
and her expression blanked. If not for the slight quiver of her thin lips, he
would have suspected his words had no effect.
“I see,” she whispered.
“Christian,” Delilah
interrupted the tense moment. “I think your mother—”
“My mother needs to
remember her place and that I am not a boy. I am the head of this family.”
His mother scoffed. “And
what am I, Christian?”
The woman had too much
pride for her own good. He glanced at Delilah. She was upset. He should not
have snapped at her, but his mother needed to understand that—from the
beginning—this was how he intended to run his family. It was not his mother’s
place to interfere. It would send Delilah the wrong message.
“You are a guest in my
home,” he said succinctly, ending all further debate.
Adriel bristled. Such a
terse dressing down would hurt a typical female, but his mother was no typical
female. She lacked the soft emotions of most females.
“Well, I believe my
visit has come to an end. Delilah, it was a pleasure meeting you. I will stop
by again some time when we can have a longer—private—visit to get to know one
another.”
“It was nice meeting
you, Mrs. Schrock.”
“Please, call me
Adriel…or…Mother.”
“Thank you, Adriel.”
He followed his mother
out. When she reached the front porch she turned on him and said, “I am no
longer under your roof, so I will say my piece. Any fool can claim a mate,
Christian. But it takes a male of honor to claim someone’s heart. Do not make
the same mistakes your father made or you will find yourself just as alone. Try
to think what this is like for her. Everything you do has a direct effect on
her. You will always be bigger, stronger, older, and more powerful. If that is
not assurance enough for your ego, that is
your
problem, not hers. Be
sure to keep that in mind when you’re looking for someone to blame for the
loneliness you’ll find if you do not learn to bend. Having a mate is about
partnership, not ownership.”
“I do not want you
involving yourself—”
She held up a hand. “No
need to explain. You were perfectly clear in your dressing down of me. You have
it all figured out and need no advice. I wish you luck, Christian. We have but
one mate in this life and I hope your experience is better than mine.”
She turned and walked
away.
Christian watched her
disappear over the slope of land in their property. Did she think he did not
understand how important this moment was in his life? He was trying so hard to
do things right so that he
did not
lose his mate like his father did.
As far as repeating his
sire’s mistakes, it was a bit difficult when one did not know what,
specifically, those mistakes had been. Adriel was always there to observe and
judge, but kept her own shameful past tightly hidden from other’s view.
He entered the house as
Delilah was slinking up the stairs. “Where are you going?”
She tensed.
“Delilah?”
When she faced him her
expression was calm, but full of hidden emotion. “Christian, I don’t have
parents. My grandmother raised me and she passed away when I was seventeen. So
many times in my life I have wished I had just one parent to go to when I was
confused or scared. I don’t know what just happened here, but from what I can
gather you just told your mother—in Amish terms—to fuck off.” She shook her
head. “It can’t be just us if you expect to make this work. I’m a social
person. You want me to live here? Acknowledge that this is going to be my house
too? Then don’t make me feel like an intruder when I have something to say. And
as far as how you just treated your mother…I was taught that the way a man
treats his mother is the best indicator a woman has of the how he will treat
his wife. Now, I’m not sure if that applies to vampyres, but I’m pretty sure it
does and you just treated your mom like shit.”
She turned before he
could come up with a reply and marched up the stairs. The door slammed. Why
were all the women in his life irrational?
* * * *
Adriel paced in front of
the bishop’s grand fireplace, letting go of all her fury. “You didn’t hear him,
Eleazar. He reminded me so much of his father, so absolute and arrogant.”
“Adriel, you should not
have interfered. You know that. Family law is—”
“Oh, you males and your
family law! I am so tired of hearing that used as an excuse. I cannot believe
you would even try justifying situations with such rubbish after learning what
Silus did to your wife.”
The bishop’s eyes
narrowed and his mouth formed a hard line across his face. “Christian is not
Cerberus or Silus. I know what my wife has been through and I’d ask that you
not bring it up again in my house. It is not the same,” he practically growled
the warning.
Adriel’s shoulders
drooped as she stopped pacing. She whispered her greatest fear. “What if he’s
more like his father than we realized, Eleazar?”
“Christian is a good
male. He is honorable and has never done anything to make me believe otherwise.
Right now he is simply finding his way. It is difficult to be more than a
couple centuries old and suddenly have to share your life with someone. He is
adjusting.”
“He has not let her
leave.”
“Because she will run.”
“And why do you think
that is?” she challenged.
“Adriel, you’re crossing
a line again. I understand you are only trying to help and you care for the
girl’s wellbeing, but do you honestly believe your son would harm his mate?”
“Being someone’s mate
does not guarantee they shall treat you kindly.”
Her mind went back to
one night many, many years ago. They had been in Europe. Adriel had thought
Eleazar’s warning to Cer, her mate, had sunk in. It had been days since he had
hurt her again.
Such a cruel bastard
Cerberus was. It did not matter how he touched her, the palm of his hand coming
down hard against her face, the rough press of his manhood into her tender
places, the grip of his hand in her hair, or even the brush of his finger over
hers as she handed him his cup. It was all punishment.
Cer was old. She didn’t
know how old, but he was at least two centuries older than Eleazar, her one
trusted friend in the world. Things such as mating were not organized in the
olden days. There were no ledgers of record, no ceremonies of commitment. Males
received their calls and took what was rightfully theirs without question.
Adriel had dreamed of
him. She had seen his beautiful wavy hair and those piercing amber eyes and she
had known he was coming. She could still recall being such a young immortal,
prior to her calling, the dazed state she’d fluttered around her village in,
woolgathering, waiting for her true mate to arrive.
“Adriel, come down from
there and help me with your brothers.”
She turned to see her
lovely mother, a babe on each hip squalling like chimpanzees. Adriel lowered
herself from the crossbeam of the thatched roof, where she’d been knotting
straw gable, her feet landing on the ground with barely a sound. She’d been
mending the roof since the dreams began, hoping to one day catch sight of her
mate riding in on his horse, hair wild in the wind, as he came to claim her.
She looked once more
toward the open horizon, sighed, then turned back to her mother’s voice.
“Coming, Mommá.”
He didn’t arrive for
some time. Two winters passed and the dreams continued. She wondered what kind
of cruel trick this was for God to make her wait. She had waited over a century
already. That was before she truly understood the meaning of cruel.
He arrived late one
night, jerking her from sleep in her crude cot stuffed with horsehair. “Get up,
girl.”
She recognized him
immediately and her heart fluttered before she could grasp what he’d said.
“Tis you,” she breathed,
sitting up and sweeping her mass of red curls from her face.
“Aye. Let us be going.
Now.”
“Shall you not stay
here? Meet my family?”
“I am your family now. I
have journeyed long and I have dealings I must return to. Dress and let us be
gone.”
She looked to the clay
wall where her parents slept on the other side. Her two brothers slept beside
her, peacefully, and her five sisters lay scattered about the floor on makeshift
beds. “But I must say goodbye—”
“Are ye daft? I said
move. I have no time to spare.”
His tone was hard and
concise, leaving no room for argument. Adriel was not used to being spoken to
in such a manner. On shaky legs she stood. She dressed deliberately, yet tried
to make it seem as though she was rushing. Surely he did not mean for her to
leave her family without even a goodbye?
As she tied her shift
and slipped her feet into her leather saclike shoes, he roughly grabbed her
arm. “That be enough, girl. No need for trappings and such.”
She had yet to even
braid her hair. A horrible weight settled in her stomach as he led her from the
cottage. She wanted to scream for her family to wake, but also did not want to
anger him. She had not even learned his name.
Tears welled in her
eyes, but she fought them back. Adriel was not the kind of girl to give into
such nonsense. Perhaps after their business was finished they would return to
the cliffs and have a celebration for their union.
The night was dark.
Pinpricks of stars only dull flickers in the inky blanket of sky. Clouds
crossed the moon and it seemed a storm was coming. He led her to his steed, a
great big beast with fur down its legs. “Get on,” he said, nudging her toward
the animal.
Adriel looked up at the
beast and back to her mate. Surely he would assist her. “I cannot reach.”
“I will not have a
helpless mate. Get on the beast now.”
She of course could land
on the horse, but it was not proper, and she knew it. She was in a shift and—
The blow took her so off
guard her feet went out from under her as her body twisted from the force of
his palm across her face. She fell to the ground, sandy soil dry under her
fingertips. Gasping with shock, she spit blood.
“I said I do not have
time. Are you a sloth, girl? I said get on the bloody horse.”
Without assisting her to
stand he went to check for something in one of the saddlebags. Adriel slowly
stood, her legs shaky, heart erratically pounding in her chest. Who was this
monster that resembled the hero from her dreams?
Once she seated herself
he jumped up behind her. He was large. His thighs swallowed her. She could
never forget the sight of his enormous hands gripping the reins in front of
her.
His palms were the size
of her face. Although there were men in the village, Adriel only ever spent
time with her brothers and father. Her reference for males and male behavior
was quite lacking.
Her father had always
seemed so powerful and magnificent. But now, seeing her mate’s great size, she
realized her father was actually a small male. For some reason that awareness
broke something inside of her, as though an illusion of shelter had dissolved
in order to make room for the cruel giant stealing her away.