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Xavier
Lyrasleepspeacefully.Unableto resist the captivating sight, I remain by her side, observing the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest for countless hours. Her hair is a wild tangle; her lips are still red and swollen from our kisses, and her long lashes cast delicate shadows on her cheeks. I realize the sheer foolishness of thinking that a single night with her could ever be enough.
Something shifted between us earlier, and it lingers with me. Marcus spoke to me about love, and I scoffed. Even though I want to love and be loved, I called it a myth that the mortal world created to explain away their infatuations. If I am correct in what I believe happened during the moment that Lyra and I came together, it seems as if fate has decided for me.
I leave her sleeping, venture into the city to beguile the proprietors of local boutiques to open their stores so I can gather the necessities for Lyra’s stay. I have decided, without her knowledge, to impose this stay upon her. Allowing her to leave in the morning is no longer a viable option. Once I return home, I summon Marcus as there are pressing matters that require discussion.
“Why, pray tell, have you beckoned me to your abode amidst the nocturnal hours?” Marcus asks as he appears in my living room.
I look up from the velvet sofa where I am lounging, my gaze lingering on his disheveled appearance. His black hair is tousled, and his beard is unkempt, but his bright blue eyes are alert and focused.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Indeed, one cannot help but ponder if the timing of addressing this matter could have been more opportune. Additionally, let us acknowledge the possibility that opting for telephonic communication, reminiscent of the ways of mortal beings, might have presented itself as a viable alternative for effectively conveying this message,” Marcus replies, sinking heavily into the leather armchair.
“But I’m not a mortal being,” I retort, allowing my fangs to descend, flashing him a sharp-toothed grin.
Marcus rolls his eyes. “I must express my regret for having imparted upon you the knowledge of the summoning spell, a resource strictly reserved for dire circumstances. As of now, there seems to be no imminent peril, such as the ominous presence of vampire hunters brandishing wooden stakes, a conflagration engulfing your abode, or mischievous shadow schemers endeavoring to breach your windows.”
“It is an emergency. I need you to cast a Limenia lock spell.”
“Pray tell, old friend. Whom do you endeavor to prevent from entering your abode?”
“It’s not who I want to keep out; it’s more a case of preventing someone from leaving,” I say, my voice ringing with urgency. Time is of the essence.
Marcus closes his eyes, his fingers twitching on his knees. Tiny blue sparks begin to form at the tips of his fingers, crackling with an otherworldly energy that seems to glow in the dimly lit room. “Does this query refer to the lady presently gracing your sleeping quarters?” he asks, his voice heavy with disapproval. “My astute observation unveils that she does not possess the essence of humanity. Pray, unveil to me her true identity.”
“I told you, Marcus, to refrain from using your magical gaze to peek through the walls of my home,” I snap, running a hand through my dark hair in frustration. “Bloody hell, she’s as naked as the day she was born, and you don’t need to see her in that state.” I take a deep breath, attempting to calm myself. “As for who she is, her name is Lyra, and no, she isn’t human. She’s a werewolf that I met earlier this evening.”
The room falls silent, with the only sound coming from the grandfather clock ticking solemnly in the background and the fire that crackles and spits, casting flickering shadows across the Persian carpet. I watch as his expression shifts from curiosity to anger, his eyes narrowing as he processes the information. “Have you completely forsaken your senses? It is unfathomable to bring a werewolf into your abode without anticipating an imminent conflict. Pray, enlighten me, from which pack does she originate?”
“She is Rowan Starling’s daughter.”
He sighs. “I believe we have reached a mutual understanding to abandon our primitive behaviors, but it appears that you have chosen to bring a woman into your dwelling without her consent.”
“I didn’t bring her here against her will; she came of her own volition.” And then later, she came a couple more times, but that was all my doing.
“I find myself puzzled by your inclination to prolong her presence in this abode. Previously, you professed contentment with a solitary evening in the company of a woman, yet now you beseech me to conjure a spell to forcibly prolong her stay. It is of utmost importance that you promptly expel the alpha’s daughter from your dwelling before her father becomes cognizant of her presence.”
“You don’t understand. When I met her, all I wanted was to spend the night with her before letting her leave in the morning, but when we came together, something happened. It was like a tempestuous storm of emotions erupted from within me. The universe shuddered with our ferocity; the very fabric of reality was tearing apart. Sparks of raw energy electrified my every fiber, coursing through my veins. Our souls entwined in a way that transcended mere mortal understanding—a dark and twisted fate bound us together in an unbreakable bond. It was a feeling beyond description and explanation. My entire being was alive with sensation, each nerve on edge, as if I were caught between ecstasy and agony. The colors around me were vibrant, alive, and moving like a living, breathing thing. They danced in a mad swirl, a frenzied dance of love and chaos, as we gave ourselves over to each other.”
“Xavier, what is the essence of your discourse?”
“I believe that Lyra is meant to be mine,” I say, my voice filled with conviction.
“Indeed, have you departed from rationality and reason?” Marcus says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Do you truly contemplate the belief that Lyra, a werewolf, is your destined soulmate? Considering your nature as a vampire, historically predisposed to hold contempt for her kind, such a notion stands in stark contradiction to the fundamental principles upon which you steadfastly abide.”
“You said it yourself. We are creatures of magic, and love is not exclusive to humans,” I reply, throwing his words back at him. “Besides, Lyra is not a full-blooded werewolf. It’s been known for humans and vampires to be fated mates, and perhaps her human side recognizes the vampire part of me as her soulmate.” As I speak the words, I know that they are true. Lyra is not just a werewolf, but something more, something that I don’t fully understand yet. But with every passing moment, I feel our bond growing stronger and our connection deeper. For better or worse, Lyra is a part of me. “I need some time to understand what Lyra and I are to each other, but she is a fighter, stubborn, and defiant, and she won’t stay here out of her own free will. Please cast the spell.”
I shift restlessly in my seat as I wait for his response. Marcus, on the other hand, is motionless, his expression guarded as he listens to my plea.
Finally, when I can’t take the tension any longer, I stand up and start pacing back and forth across the room. My footsteps echo in the cavernous space, and my mind races with thoughts of Lyra.
Marcus sighs, his eyes following my movements as I resume pacing. “I am unable to invoke the enchantment. I comprehend your longing to assert proprietorship over Lyra, but it behooves you to ponder the ramifications of your deeds. You are not merely imperiling your own well-being but also jeopardizing hers. Let us not dismiss the reality that our species bears a legacy of hostility toward one another. Regardless of your convictions, Lyra remains inherently a lycanthrope. It is ingrained within her essence to exhibit resistance and defiance against those who seek to manipulate her.”
“I don’t want to control her. If that were all I wanted, I would have beguiled her and ordered her to stay.” I stop in my tracks, my eyes meeting his in a moment of desperation. “If all that is standing between you and your fae princess is a simple spell, would you cast the spell?”
“By the gods, curse their meddling ways,” Marcus exclaims, pushing himself up from his chair, indicating my successful persuasion. “Your remark, my dear companion, serves as an affront, one that bewilders me as to why I continually yield to your powers of persuasion, leading me into actions against my own will. I shall proceed with the incantation designed to impede Lyra’s departure. Xavier, I grant you a span of two weeks; alas, I cannot extend this timeframe any further.”
