Shattered (Series, UC, Mi/L, Mature) Part 8; 7/21 complete

[Ashita]

Title: Shattered; Spoils of War Series
Disclaimer: The characters of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, and 20th Century Fox. Lyrics to Shattered belong to Trading Yesterday.
Pairings: Polar; Mi/L (What else?)
Rating: Mature
Summary: Post Grad; Liz gave Max up, but war still came to Earth. It’s Post-war and Liz, one of few free humans, is informed by the Council that Rath is determined to claim her as a mate because of her bond with the Granilith. Fearful the Granilith will fall into enemy hands, the Council orders her to bond with Michael.

AN: So I've been accused of only giving "bits and pieces of a rather delicious feast" and figured I'd write prequel to the Spoils of War series. This story covers the three weeks prior to Liz going on the run.

Thanks to Whimsy for my awesome banners!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding
Fall into your sunlight
The future's open wide beyond believing
To know why hope dies



“You’re certain about this?” Michael asked quietly, running a hand though ruffled, tawny waves, his brow furrowed thoughtfully as he paced the length of the room, his back coiled with tension. Rubbing his hand over his face wearily, he stared around the war room blankly as his mind quickly assessed the potential level of threat the news contained and cursed under his breath. Any threat to her was too great a threat.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Davin responded, keeping his eyes leveled on Michael seriously, hating that he had to break such bad news to his commander and friend. It was well known through the ranks how much the woman meant to him. But at least they got the information in time to hopefully prevent it. “Our spies had evidence to back it up.”

“Did they mention when this is supposed to happen?” he queried, fixing his second in command with stoic look, trying not to give away just how badly his news had shaken him. This was bad, very bad. Damn, he knew he should have moved faster.

“Rath didn’t mention a time table,” the man responded, shrugging his shoulders helplessly as he saw Michael’s face darken at his twin’s name and wondered for the hundredth time how two men with the same DNA could be so different. “But from the sounds of it, he’s planning to make his move in the next couple of weeks.”

“Fuck,” Michael muttered under breath and closed his eyes, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. He should have seen this coming. He really didn’t think the other faction would slink away into the night when their leader died; groups like this only retreat until they could regroup and someone made a play to be leader. And what better way to establish your hold than by kidnapping the Granilith’s priestess?

Damn Rath.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Jarid sighed as he walked into the room, watching his brother contemplatively as Michael’s head shot up, irritation flashing over his face as his eyes raked over Jarid’s formal robes. Noting the telltale signs of Michael’s growing agitation, Jarid braced himself, knowing that his news was going to enrage his brother further. How did he get himself stuck in these situations?

“I’m guessing the Council is here to put their two cents in,” Michael bit out contemptuously, his hard gaze settling on his brother, apprehension trickling down his spine as he noted his brother’s solemn expression. He had grown to understand that look all too well and knew that whatever Jarid had to tell him, was going to piss him off, as many of the Council dictates did.

Jarid met his eyes unflinchingly for a moment before sliding his gaze over to Davin pointedly and then back to Michael, cocking a brow and indicating that it might be best they have this conversation in private. Michael’s head shot over to his second in surprise as he wondered why Jarid didn’t want him present – unless…no, they wouldn’t. Nodding to Davin discreetly, he sent him a look that said he’d fill him in later and watched as he left the room before turning back to his brother, arms crossed over his chest and lips pursing.

“You had to know this was coming,” Jarid replied quietly as he clasped his hands behind his back, meeting his brother’s cool eyes stoically and squaring his shoulders for the impending maelstrom. Turning away, he walked over to the window, well aware of the impatient bourbon eyes following him, and stared at the garden helplessly, stalling the impending announcement for as long as he could.

Michael watched his brother’s actions suspiciously, his face devoid of emotion as he clawed at his brow and waited for Jarid to stop stalling and get to it. He didn’t have time to waste with Rath’s threat looming on the horizon. He had to talk to Davin about doubling the men’s training schedule, select an elite guard, have the perimeters checked for weaknesses in their shields and much more. If the Council had an idea on how to keep her safe, he needed to know now, not in ten years at the rate Jarid was going.

Biting back a grunt of frustration as the silence continued, he studied his brother’s aura for signs as to why he was hesitating and his stomach sank as he saw the tendrils of unease and fear shimmering in his typically placid dark blue aura. There was only one suggestion that would cause that reaction in his sibling, but the Council wouldn’t….

“Yeah, they can’t seem to help interfering in affairs that are none of their business,” Michael spat, his heart speeding up as he read the jump of apprehension in his brother’s body and cursed under his breath as his suspicions were confirmed. If they even thought they were going to take her away from him, they were delusional. “Let me guess…they want her to bond.”

“It would be wise,” Jarid responded neutrally, keeping his back to Michael, sliding his eyes shut as he slumped with resignation. He should have known he’d figure it out. His sibling had always been sharp and had an uncanny ability at reading auras, seeing many things that most people missed. It’s what had made him a great general and invaluable to Zan as a second-in-command.

“And just who do they hope to force on her?” Michael queried in a low dangerous tone, his shoulders tensing as he stared at his brother. Compressing his lips into a thin line, his eyes narrowed, arms straining with agitation and his turbulent emotions built in his chest like a pressure cooker as he thought of anyone other than him claiming the pretty brunette.

“You,” Jarid informed him, cringing internally as silence permeated the room, not because he thought Michael unwilling, but because he knew that his announcement was completely unexpected after everything that happened two months previous. Not to mention the fact that his brother had a stubborn streak a mile wide, and was just as likely to refuse because it was something the Council wanted.

“What? Why?” Michael choked hoarsely, his head reeling and he inhaled sharply, his blank façade belying the hope sluicing through him. They weren’t going to separate them? Furrowing his brow in confusion, he fixed a cautious glance on his brother’s stiff back and quirked his lips thoughtfully. There had to be a catch. There always was when it came to the men that tried so hard to shape his life. “Just months ago when I stated my intentions to ask her to be my mate, they fought me tooth and nail. Not that I cared what they thought.”

“Months ago, they didn’t realize she was bonded to the Granilith,” Jarid countered, pressing his fingers against his eyes as he bit back his irritation with the Council for once again making him their liaison to Michael, as well as how they were handling this situation. He had a bad feeling that this was going to blow up in their faces. Liz was just as stubborn as the man behind him.

“Right,” Michael scoffed bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. And there it was – the catch. They didn’t give a damn about her or his feelings; they were just worried that they’d lose their seat of power if the Granilith fell into the wrong hands. Self-serving bastards. As long as nothing rocked the status quo, they were now happy to grant his request. “They didn’t care until she became useful to them.”

“They want the link to the Granilith secured,” Jarid shrugged, turning back to Michael and searching his face for indications as to his feelings and potential actions. He could see this playing one of two ways. His brother would either agree heartily to keep the woman he loved safe or he’d balk, digging in his heels rather than to give the Council the satisfaction of planning his life.

“Oh, well in that case,” Michael mused, his tone dripping sarcasm as he rubbed his jaw mockingly and cocked a brow at his sibling’s exasperated expression. No way was he going to play into what those controlling, self-centered bastards wanted. He’d never kowtowed to anyone in his life and he certainly wasn’t going to start doing so now. He’d handle this his own way. He’d promised her a long time ago she’d be free to make her own decisions. “No.”

“But…but…I thought…” Jarid sputtered, clearly confused and frustrated with his obstinate sibling. Not that it should have surprised him any. Rath had always done things his own way on Antar and that hadn’t changed in this incarnation. This was going to get ugly really fast when he learned that the Council had anticipated this very reaction, and taken matters into their own hands. He’d vehemently protested, but had been outnumbered.

“You thought wrong,” Michael stated succinctly, bristling at the Council’s audacity and their chauvinistic tendencies, thinking that women were helpless and needed to be protected from the harsh realities of life. Maybe this was true with the weak-willed sops that graced the court, but not his Liz. If his race actually allowed women warriors, she’d be the best of his army, blessed with a strategic mind that blew him away. And little did the Council know; she had helped him plan more than one war campaign. They could handle this together as they did everything.

“I don’t get you, Rath,” Jarid shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he fixed his brother with an impatient moue, fighting the urge to shake some sense into his younger sibling. Gritting his teeth, he threw his hands up in annoyance because this was exactly what the obstinate man wanted. “You’ve intended this very thing for months and now that you have their blessings, you’re refusing?”

“I want her to bond to me because she wants to,” he retorted, running a hand through his hair in agitation, spinning on his heel to pace the length of the room as his mind ran over the other options to keep her safe, like a secreting her in a safe house. Shaking his head at that thought, he ruled it out immediately, not liking the idea any more than when it was first broached in the beginning of the war. He maintained she was safer with him. “Not because she was forced to do it.”

“What does it matter as long as you get what you want?” Jarid argued quietly, thoughtfully watching the stressed man in front of him, noting the lines marring his brow as he traveled back and forth. He knew how much his brother loved Liz and that he was scared to say anything because he was afraid she didn’t return the sentiment, although any fool could see she was just as in love with him. Well, other than the fool in front of him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed wearily and prayed for the Granilith to guide the two stubborn souls, knowing that they were going to need all the guidance and patience they could get in the coming days once all was known.

“The fact that you have to ask that shows just how little you understand her or me,” Michael stated coolly, flicking Jarid a pointed look as he halted his pacing and stared off into space. Bonding to her would ensure her safety as both sides highly honored them regardless of their political leanings. Marriage was sacred on Antar and divorce unheard of, which is why he couldn’t make himself force this bond on her. Especially after what happened to Maria. “The answer is no, I will do this my own way.”

“They’re not giving you a choice, Rath,” Jarid warned softly, his body tensing as the other man’s head whipped up and he pinned him with fiery glare. Michael was going to be furious with him for his part in this mess and would likely never speak to him again, but so be it. Someone had to give them a push. “Even now they’re meeting with her and handing down their decree.”

“What?” Michael growled softly, his body rippling with tension as he caught a certain tone in his brother’s voice that sent his heart into a frantic pace and unease curling in his gut – regret tinged with a note of finality.

“She’s being told now,” Jarid repeated, looking at his hands, unable to meet his sibling’s eyes as he delivered this news, cringing when a furious string of profanities filled the room and something slammed against the wall.

“And you’re just telling me this now?? Why…” Michael accused, his temper finally snapping as he turned back to his brother, wondering why he had waited so long to give him this bit of news, his gut sinking as he made a startling realization. Betrayal and rage ripped through his heart as his brother’s attitude and actions suddenly became all too apparent. “You were sent to detain me…son of a bitch! You were sent to make sure I arrived too late to stop this…”

“It’s for the people’s good, Rath,” Jarid muttered weakly, his heart going out to his brother, but his hands were tied, as they had been since he joined the Council, and it wasn't until they had ordered him to do this that he realized how much he stood to lose, immediately tendering his resignation. They had overstepped their bounds this time. But he still had to carry out this last charge of office no matter how distasteful. “And for the two of you as well.”

“Screw that! You have no idea the damage you’ve done! Liz will not be pushed!” Michael grated, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles cracked under the strain and fury seared through the blood boiling just under tight, hot, prickling skin. It whipped through him with blinding intensity, aching to erupt in an explosion so fierce and destructive, the devil in hell would be impressed. Stalking over to his brother, he pinned him with a hard, furious stare and vowed. “If I lose her, if she runs…there will be hell to be paid.”

Jarid swallowed harshly at the barely contained rage simmering in his brother’s normally cool, slightly bored gaze and stepped in front of him, hoping to halt him before he did anything rash. He held his gaze as Michael stepped up to him menacingly, getting in his face, his body strung as tight as a bow as he stared down on him with contempt, a threat implied with every move of his body.

“Get. The hell. Out of my way…” Michael snarled, enunciating the words slowly and concisely so as there could be no mistaking that he meant each and every implied threat raging through his eyes. Tracking his brother’s movement as he slowly stepped aside, he fixed him with one last infuriated glare before stalking out the door and heading to the Council Chamber to head off what was sure to be a disaster in the making.

[Ashita]

Julie - I feel bad for them too, but I do promise them a happy ending. Eventually. Once those two stubborn souls allow me to do it. I have a little more on Maria in the next part and then a bigger explanation in one of the sequels. And yeah, the fact that Liz is one of the few to stand up to Michael in this universe is my favorite part.

Barbara - *grins* I'm happy that you like this series so much. And since this story is pretty much almost completed other than the last chapter, you will see regular updates. There are at this point 4 installments planned after this story.

Jan! - I've missed your reviews, although it's totally understandable given everything that was happening. I feel you on keeping sane part. Right now, writing and the updates my favorites give me are the only thing getting me through the days at times.

Yas - I love the new story smell too! Now if only there were more on my favorite poison (Mi/L), I'd be a happy girl. I love writing them, but sometimes, it's nice to be entertained. And yes, we will get to see the meeting right now. And they are actually on Earth. The war came to them not the opposite; why will become apparent later in the series.

Kiara - Yes, this story, actually started as a drabble, because I wanted to show Michael's reaction to the news about Rath and his reaction to the fumbled meeting. Then, the next thing I know it's 43 pages (and counting) and another story is born to the series. As for Jarid...people's reaction to Jarid interests me. Of my two betas, one feels some sympathy for him and the other outright dislikes him heartily. I'm still not sure how I feel about him and his motivations. Jury's still out. But I will say this about Jarid - he means well, he just doesn't understand our lovely Polar couple and that causes problems. And yes, Davin and Michael share the relationship that should have been between Max and Michael.

AN:So, good news? This story is mostly complete and you will have regular updates. The bad news? I'm still working on Hunted. My smut muse wandered off and I'm still trying to rope her in, but it is very close to being finished. Soon! I promise!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Losing what was found, a world so hollow
Suspended in a compromise
The silence of this sound is soon to follow
Somehow sundown


Liz stared at the summons, her face scrunched with confusion, nibbling on her lower lip thoughtfully as a million thoughts and questions swarmed in her mind, buzzing like a thousand angry bees. She couldn’t imagine what the Council of Elders wanted with her, unless it had something to do with the Granilith. Maybe they needed to consult with Her?

But even with that, it still didn’t make any sense. They rarely spoke to her personally, preferring to hand down their requests either through Michael, or through a messenger if Michael was away. They’d never requested her actual presence in their sacred chamber. Shivering slightly as a chill of apprehension slid over her spine, Liz set the summons on her desk and rubbed her arms to ward off the cold that had settled in her stomach.

“My lady?” the scribe queried, startling her out of her thoughts. Head snapping up to the waiting boy, she smiled at him reassuringly, hoping the gesture would chase away the dread that was curling through her body. But her unease continued grow, making her heart flutter, and she closed her eyes wearily, tapping into her connection with Michael, wondering if the feelings were stemming from him.

Finding him in his war room with Davin, she could feel the apprehension and fear coming off of him in waves, but couldn’t figure out what had set it off as his thoughts were muddled and flying through his head too fast for her to comprehend. Shutting off the connection as she didn’t want to eavesdrop, a small measure of relief trickled through her veins that he was at least unharmed. It still didn’t explain the summons, but it was once less thing to worry about.

“Tell them I’ll be there momentarily,” Liz informed the hovering scribe as she rose from her chair, still worrying her lip as she ran a hand through her hair and hurried to her wardrobe to pull out her formal midnight blue and gold robe, setting it on the bed. “I need a few minutes to make myself presentable.”

“Yes, my lady; I’ll let them know and send a guard to escort you when you done,” the boy responded, turning on his heel to take her response back to the Council. Not that he really expected her to refuse. One did not ignore a direct summons from the Council without great displeasure, followed by forced compliance.

Liz sighed, picking up her brush from her vanity as she sat before the mirror and quickly brushed and pinned up her hair into a tight chignon, anchoring the heavy fall of hair with two blue hair sticks. Standing, she quickly shed her lounge clothes in favor of an empire waist, full-length dress with cap sleeves that was typical of the women at court.

Arranging the soft blue cloth over her body, she looked in the mirror and did a subtle make-up job with a flick of her hand, not wanting to keep the Council waiting too long. Nodding her head slightly, she had to laugh at herself softly as she knew she really didn’t need to go to these lengths for the Council, but if Michael was there…

Her heart gave a little leap at that thought, a light wash of pink tinting her cheeks as she shook her head at herself. She knew the dress and choice of colors were because of a certain tall, gruff warrior king that had been the center of her thoughts for several months now. While he rarely noticed what others were wearing, for some reason he had this thing with her wearing the color blue, especially the combination of midnight blue and gold.

Looking over at her closet as she slid her robe on, she smiled ruefully as she noticed that her wardrobe was slowly being taken over by that particular color combination. And not just by her instigation – Michael seemed to be just as guilty, putting in his two cents when she was trying decide between materials for her gowns and robes. Well, unknowingly. She’d seen the way certain fabrics caught his eye, the way he touched them.

Shaking off her musings, Liz strode through her suite and out the door, moving through the halls quickly to the Council chamber room. Her brow furrowed as she once again tried to fathom what the Council wanted with her and still came up blank. But then again, what did she know about them really other than they’d been the governing board on Antar while they waited for the return of its Royal Court?

Rounding a corner, she halted before the double doors to their inner sanctuary and stared at them with trepidation, fear running cold fingers over her nerves and adding to her unease. Shivering once more, she placed her hand on the door handle slowly, trying to laugh her silliness off; they weren’t going to harm her, right?

So, why did she feel like she was a lamb being led to slaughter?

Squaring her shoulders, she pulled the door open and entered the cool, cavernous room, the murmur of hushed voices echoing through the chamber as they talked amongst themselves. Striding forward, she quirked a brow as the voices ceased and their heads seemed to rise in sync to watch her approach. Their coordinated moves were actually kind of creepy.

“You wanted to see me?” Liz queried softly, bewildered chocolate eyes dancing between the four present members, frowning slightly as she noticed Jarid’s absence and wondering what that was all about. She knew from their conversations that he’d been unhappy with the Council the past month, but she hadn’t heard that he’d resigned yet.

“We did,” Calais, the head of the Council affirmed, nodding his head and gestured to a seat in front of their long table. “Take a seat.”

Liz approached the chair warily, watching the blank faces in front of her and sitting down uncomfortably, feeling much like she was facing the Inquisition. Pursing her lips, she looked around the room, discreetly searching for Michael, and growing more confused by the moment when she didn’t see him.

When she had wondered why she’d never been inside the chamber, Michael had explained that he was her representative to the Council as she was an unmarried woman. Usually the woman’s mate or legal guardian handled any legal matters in their society, but since her father was deceased, he had been appointed to her until she chose to mate. So his absence was odd as well.

“We have gotten some news.” Calais stated, drawing her attention back to the men in front of her, and her brows rose with some surprise, though she remained silent, understanding that a response wasn’t necessary. A minute ticked by in silence as they studied her and she shifted slightly, quickly growing impatient with his cryptic remark.

“We have received intelligence that the other side is regrouping,” he continued just as cryptically, looking down at some papers in front of him before looking back up at Liz and watching her coolly. Liz met his eyes unflinchingly, her look belying her inner turmoil. That was a concern, but she was a little uncertain as to how it pertained to her since that was more of a military issue, not one of the Granilith.

“Khivar’s dead,” she pointed out, speaking for the first time since she had entered the chamber, still wondering what the point to this meeting was since by their laws she wasn’t supposed to be involved with the war. Besides, with their leader dead, the other side had fractured and the remaining camps quickly dismantled.

“His general, Rath, is trying to instate himself as their leader,” he shrugged, standing and sinking his hands into his pockets as he studied the pretty brunette who held so much power in her small but very capable hands. He had been concerned with her hold over their King throughout the years, but for once it seemed that hold might come in handy.

“It won’t happen,” Liz refuted quickly, knowing that Rath didn’t have the kind of following necessary to claim that role. There had always been Rath Worshipers as Maria joked, but most of them had stood behind Michael; especially when Max died and he ascended the throne. “They’re too fractured.”

“It will if he has the Granilith,” Rais pointed out, taking up the thread of this conversation as agreed upon before she’d entered the chamber, since other than Jarid, she was closest to him. He hated what was happening to the girl he’d grown fond of over the last couple of years, but something had to be done.

“He can’t,” Liz argued, bolting straight up in her seat at the mention of the Granilith, her heart speeding up. She and Michael still hadn’t figured out why she was bonded to it, but the fact remained that she was the only one, that she knew of, who talked with the being. Which didn’t necessarily mean Rath couldn’t, but it would have been foolish to allow him close enough to the crystal to find out. “Everyone knows that I’m bonded to it.”

“And if he has you, kvetina?” Rais rebutted gently, rising from the table and crossing over to kneel in front of her chair, taking her trembling hands into his. Meeting her startled eyes, he rubbed her knuckles soothingly, trying to impart some measure of strength and comfort to the girl that had become a daughter to him.

“What?” she croaked hoarsely, wide-eyes meeting his anxiously, her breath hitching and heart thrumming as his words sunk in, fear skittering over raw nerves. Ripping her eyes away from Rais, she turned to the others questioningly and her blood chilled further when she read confirmation in their eyes. Looking back at her friend, she licked her lips nervously and her breath grew short and agitated as her thoughts whirled.

“Our spies tell us that he is planning to claim you,” Rais continued gravely, gripping her hands firmly and holding her gaze determinedly, trying to impart how serious of a threat this was to her. They couldn’t afford her disbelief or denial. “By force if necessary.”

“The encampment is impenetrable,” Liz refuted stubbornly, tipping her chin defiantly and squaring her shoulders as she quickly pushed her fear aside. So Rath wanted to try for her, let him. She wasn’t afraid of him. And Michael had been training her on the sly for months on the chance that this very thing cropped up. Besides, even if she couldn’t take him physically, there was the Granilith to guide and protect her.

“Nothing is impenetrable, Elizabeth,” Calais mocked, shaking his head at the girl’s stubbornness and arching a cool brow at Rais when the other man shot him a quelling look. He was done pandering to this girl’s sensibilities. Being the voice of the Granilith had allotted her more freedoms and slack than the other women in the court, but she was still female and under their protection.

“So what do you want me to do?” she snapped, fixing the dark-haired man with an impatient look, heartily sick of his attitude and wanting to know what game he was playing. She had never liked Calais and thought him a self-serving jackass, with a king complex and was certain he would have wrested the crown from Michael if he could. But the people adored Michael and would hunt the man down if he dared.

Of course, they’d have to stand behind her because she’d happily kill Calais if he harmed Michael.

“It’s time for you to bond,” Calais commanded, smiling slyly at the outrage that flashed across her face before she could quell the emotion. Meeting fiery chocolate irises for a beat, he bit back a smirk when they tore away from him to fixate on Rais accusingly, almost demanding answers of him and yet hoping that she’d heard wrong.

Rais looked at her helplessly, knowing he had been outvoted in this matter, and cursed the shortsighted fools that graced this office with him. Anyone could see that the King and this woman were already on their way to bonding by choice. This decree was completely unnecessary and made him wary. He’d resign, but with Jarid gone, he didn’t dare. He had a bad feeling about it all and someone needed to watch those jackals.

“What?” she whispered, her eyes rounding incredulously as she read the confirmation in her companion’s eyes and pulled her hands away, betrayal and pain sluicing through blood. She jumped to her feet, pressing her hand to her forehead as she began to pace the room like a caged animal, her heart beating staccato as panic washed over her in waves. Bond? They couldn’t. She wouldn’t. “No.”

“We’ve indulged you for a long time because of your link to the Ganilith, hoping that you’d find a mate on your own and wouldn’t force us to take action,” Calais sniffed dismissively, crossing his arms over his chest in satisfaction at finally having her where he wanted her. Raising his brows when she shot him a scathing glare, he shrugged nonchalantly and slid his hands into his pockets once more. “But we no longer have that luxury. He will take you if he can and we can’t allow the enemy to get their hands on the Granilith. It will end life as we know it.”

“And just who do you intend to shackle me with?” she spat bitterly, stopping her pacing and pinning the detestable man with a fulminating stare as she her arms over her chest defensively. She couldn’t wait to hear this; although there was no way in hell they were going to force her into a bond with anyone. She’d find a way to get out of it.

“There is only one person in this camp who your equal,” Calais stated, letting his eyes drift over her lithe form appreciatively; he couldn’t deny her charms and had thought of offering for her himself until Jarid interfered. It was far too tempting to be able to harness all that untapped power, but as irritating as Jarid’s revelation had been, he couldn’t refute it. “Only one person who has the necessary lineage to bond with a priestess of the Granilith.”

“And this poor fool is?” Liz bit out scathingly, her voice dripping with sarcasm, shuddering with revulsion as she caught his covetous expression. No way in hell. She’d run, even kill herself, before she bonded with that man. Or better yet, she’d kill him and take care of two problems at once.

“The king,” he shrugged, unable to resist smirking this time when her mouth dropped, before it snapped shut and she floundered, swaying dizzily as she ran a hand through her hair. Rais walked over, placing a hand on her back to bolster her and frowned when she flinched away from his touch, dropping his hand slowly to his side.

“Michael?” she asked weakly, now thoroughly bewildered as that hadn’t been the answer she’d been expecting. She had been preparing to fight them tooth and nail if they had announced her impending engagement to Calais, so this was a sucker punch to the gut. Mind reeling, her chest constricted at the implication of their words. Bond to Michael? On one hand she’d be honored, but he’d always said he’d never force her to bond. He’d promised her that she’d be free to choose. Yet they wouldn’t be so bold as to offer him if he hadn’t agreed with them, would they? “But he…”

“Sees things as we do and will do what’s necessary,” Calais replied succinctly, already dismissing her from his mind as her face crumpled, not caring if she misinterpreted his words. The only thing that mattered was ensuring the bond completed before Rath got his hands on her. They couldn’t afford to have the truth come out. Besides, Michael had proven time and again that he’d do whatever necessary to keep her with him.

Liz blanched at the implied meaning in his words and sat down her chair heavily, staring at the floor unseeingly as those last words reverberated through her head with a sense of finality. Surly he couldn’t have meant it that way. She must have misinterpreted. Michael would never go for it, would he?

Blinking, her eyes filmed over as she thought back over the years and every protective gesture Michael had ever made and closed her eyes in defeat, dropping her head into her hand. Of course he would. It’s Michael. And if he believed it was the only way to keep her safe, he’d be the first in line. Damn that overprotective streak.

Raising her head, pain ripped through heart as she swept glassy eyes over the Council table, her body shaking at the grave but implacable expressions returning her disbelieving gaze. The evidence was staring her in the face and yet her heart didn’t want to believe that he would do it. He had agreed? Michael had agreed? How? Why?

Still reeling, she gasped and her head snapped around as the Council doors burst open, revealing a slightly winded and angry Michael striding down the carpeted aisle, a frown on his face, his eyes sweeping the room quickly for Liz. Coming to a standstill, Michael’s heart dropped as he noted her shattered expression, her tears cutting deep and he cursed under breath for being too late, just as the smug bastards had planned.

Walking slowly into the room, he kept worried eyes on her, his breath still ragged from his hurried trek through the palace and his fears spiked when her eyes danced away, her body caving in around her. What had the bastards done to her? Heart pounding at the gamut of emotions flowing over her face and through their connection, he looked at Rais questioningly as he hurried to her side and reached to take her in his arms, feeling slightly hurt when she flinched and pulled away.

“Ah, there you are, Your Majesty,” Calais greeted, smug satisfaction sliding over his face as he noted Michael’s confusion. Cocking a brow when Michael turned to him and fixed him with an icy glare, he gathered up his papers and tucked them under his arm, saluting him slightly as he walked towards the chamber doors. “We just told her of our plan. We’ll leave you alone to discuss the details.”

Michael paled at those words, his eyes widening in disbelief at the veiled innuendo lacing Calais’s announcement. What the hell? Flicking his eyes over the other members, he watched as Rais shifted uneasily, avoiding his gaze, and he snapped back as if struck. Closing his eyes, his stomach churned sickly as he realized why Liz looked as shattered and betrayed as she did.

She thought this was his idea. He was going to kill them.

[Ashita]

Barbara - Thanks! Glad you're enjoying this fic. And you're right, Michael does have a lot of explaining to do, but, well you know how Michael's explanations go.

AN: So when I first posted, I made the mistake of calling this a prequel, which to me it is since I've written quite a bit for it's sequel, but since this is the first story to be posted, that's a misnomer. This story starts in the middle of events and then in the sequel will spend it's time going back and forth between the past before this moment and the present, a lot through flash back, to explain how we ended up here. Also, since this is pretty much finished, I will be updating every Wed., barring unforeseen events that may crop up in my or my betas lives. And thanks to all that have been so interested in this story concept!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And finding answers
Is forgetting all of the questions we called home
Passing the graves of the unknown


Silence cloaked the room as Liz and Michael stood on opposite sides of the chamber, facing away from each other, lost in their own thoughts, the only sound outside their own raspy breathing the faint ticking of a clock. The Council had filed out over fifteen minutes previous, but they’d yet to speak, both at a loss for words and unable to express the feelings coursing through them.

Pressing his fingers to gritty eyes, Michael sat on one of the conference tables heavily, the wood creaking under his weight, his mind whirling as he tried to figure out how to fix the disaster the Council had left him in. Disbelief crashed over him as he rolled Calais’ words around in his head, hoping he’d misunderstood, not wanting to believe that the Councilman would deliberately sabotage his chances with Liz. But he couldn’t help the suspicion warring in his heart.

Confusion rippled through his body as he rested his chin in his hand. There was certainly no love lost between he and the other man, but he’d never dreamed that he’d have to watch his back internally. Bad move, Michael. He should have known better. A king couldn’t afford to let his guard down, because there were far too many people wanting to step into his shoes.

Calais did this purposefully; he had to know that Liz would balk at the idea of bonding by force, and that she would be devastated if she had even a whisper of doubt in his involvement. Brilliant strategy really, the best way to weaken a man was to cull his allies and friends. Tipping his head back, he rested it against the wall as he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed wearily, squeezing his eyes shut, cursing whatever fates or god that just wouldn’t let him catch a break in this lifetime.

Making a mental note to talk to Davin about having someone watch over the Councilman and his two henchmen, he shoved that mystery aside to reflect on his current problem and the beautiful brunette across the room. Pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, he rubbed, trying to ease the pressure building behind them. He didn’t have a clue how to proceed from here or what to say to Liz. He could deny everything, but there would always be that sliver of doubt whispering in the back of her head. Just as the self-serving bastard had planned.

Focusing on Liz, contemplative whiskey eyes slid along her rigid frame, noting the thinly pressed lips, and arms clutched around her middle, the dark blue and gold robe rustling slightly with every agitated breath. Even as shattered as she was, he thought her the most beautiful woman in the court and his heart jumped seeing her in that robe, seeing those colors on her always did something to him inside.

Clawing at his brow, he searched for the words to explain everything and came up blank once more. He always had a hard time expressing his deepest feelings, but with her, it was ten times worse. Despite their close friendship, he still had difficulty telling her how much she meant to him; she’d always left him so tongue-tied and clumsy. Pushing off the conference table, he moved towards her hesitantly, praying she wouldn’t shut him out.

Liz stiffened as she heard the slight shuffling of steps behind her and squeezed her arms tighter, trying to fight back the overwhelming sense of betrayal that caught her throat. Squeezing her eyes shut to quell the prickling burn behind them, she took a shuddering breath and held it as he approached her, her muscles coiling painfully and heart fluttering as her body poised for flight.

But just as she thought she’d break for the doors, the steps faltered and halted, leaving the veil of silence around them intact, and she couldn’t help the loud exhalation of breath that rushed over her lips. Flinching as a bitter chuckle filled the room; she walked over to the window, pressing her forehead to the cool glass, her hands clutching the sill as she tried to make sense of everything in her head.

Something felt off about this whole situation, but she couldn’t put her finger on what.

She didn’t want to believe that Michael would propose or go along with the Council’s dictate, but at the same time it was a very ‘Michael’ thing to do. Ever since Maria’s disappearance in the beginning of the war, he’d been on a one-man mission to watch over her. Well, after he was through blaming her for it.

Heart speeding up and stomach fluttering nervously, she stared out into the garden surrounding their palace, her initial numbness caving to the cold reality of her situation. Chewing on her lower lip, her heart sank as she thought back on the last few weeks and his determined pursuit of her. Closing her eyes in resignation, those moments suddenly took on a different tilt and she couldn’t help but wonder how much of it had been a campaign to soften her up so she’d embrace their plans.

Stomach rolling sickly, she swiped her fingers over her cheek to wipe away the tears that had finally broken through. God, how could she have been so stupid? He’d never mentioned love once in his pursuit. Desire yes, that couldn’t be denied as it fairly crackled between them, but desire wasn’t enough to make a bond. Nor was protection.

Turning around, distressed ebony eyes met worried whiskey, both of them drinking the other in as they tried to decipher the other’s intentions and actions. Michael’s stomach dropped as he read the hurt confusion swimming in that assessing gaze, his own going unreadable and stoic as he realized she’d bought into Calais’ lies. Biting back a frustrated groan, he stood stock still, his arms and back clenching visibly until his body was nearly screaming in tension.

“You promised,” she whispered hoarsely, stunned disbelief filling glassy chocolate irises, her body trembling with a gamut of suppressed emotion as she shook her head softly. Swallowing harshly to push past the lump that had grown in her throat, she inhaled sharply and tipped her head to the ceiling, eyes darting around unseeingly as she fought to drown out the cacophony of taunting voices whispering inside.

Blinking rapidly, her teeth gnashed against her lower lip, renting fragile skin and spilling a drop of blood onto her tongue, its cloying metallic, sweetness rolling over it sickeningly. Licking the stinging flesh absently, her chest heaved as anguish and yet, an almost curious emptiness crashed over her senses, pouring over her like an ice bath.

“Lumia,” He swallowed thickly as her body stiffened, flinching as if struck at his term of endearment before her head snapped down and she shot him a heated look. Gut clenching painfully, he drew in several shallow breaths and licked his lips nervously, his mind racing at her unspoken accusation. “Liz.”

“You promised that I would never be…” she choked, mouth gaping before her lips compressed and whitened as she fixated on an unknown focal point over his shoulder, brow furrowing faintly. She crossed her arms over her chest, sliding her hands over her arms to rest on her shoulders, her body compacting and caving around itself as if physically shielding her heart from further injury. “How could you?”

“ I didn’t…” he replied helplessly, blood rushing through his ears as the words protesting his innocence died on his tongue and drove his hands through his hair in agitation. What the hell was he supposed to do now? She believed their poison. Grunting in frustration he whipped around, staring out the window behind him, a flash of hurt slicing his heart as he plunged on heedlessly, not really thinking of how his words might sound to the pale trembling woman behind him. “Damn it, Liz, do you think I want to do this?”

Raking his hands over his face, Michael stared out the window stonily and dropped his hands to his sides, clenching his fingers as he seethed internally. Damn Calais’ meddling. He was going to bring the Councilman down if it were the last thing he did.

“Why?” she asked softly, her voice slightly strangled, her face turning ashen at his terse response, her lips quivering as she stifled a choked cry. Rubbing her fingers over her arms to ease the chill filling her chest, she watched his back bleakly.

“To protect you,” he murmured distractedly. And I love you. Unaware that his every comment was cementing her fears and adding to her distress, he braced his hands against the window frame, stiffening at her derisive snort

“To protect me,” she muttered bitterly, her arms dropping to her sides limply and she turned away, staring out the window with a crestfallen expression etched into her face. Running a hand over her hair to push back a stray chocolate tendril before clutching the sill to bolster her jellylike legs, she continued woodenly. “And what of you? What do you get out of this? What do you want?”

“I want...I will do anything to keep you safe,” he rasped passionately as he walked over and came to standstill at her back, almost too close for comfort, his breath whispering damply over her neck. Sliding his hands over her arms, he gripped her shoulders gently, pulling her into his chest and pressed his forehead to the back of her head, heart aching when she flinched slightly at the intimate press of their bodies. “I will guard you with my very life if necessary.”

“Because of the Granilith,” Liz stated emotionlessly, eyes down-turned, face blank and heart aching as her hopes died with every answer she received. Closing her eyes to quell the tears forming in haunted coffee-tinted irises, she drew a deep breath and bit back soft moan when his lips brushed her temple, his earth and spice scent wafting around her, setting her blood humming and pulse racing.

“Partly” Michael whispered, drawing a deep breath, letting her soft scent soothe his raw nerves and ached to hold her in his arms fully, but held off because he was uncertain of his reception at the moment. He agreed with her assessment and saw no reason to lie, as it was her bond to the Granilith that put her in this situation, but it was so much more than that. He would have readily agreed to anything out of his need to protect her, to keep her anchored at his side. “And I’ve lost too many people I…care about in this war. I will not let Rath take you.”

“There has to be another way,” she refuted fervently as anguish and fear bubbled in her gut and she pulled out of his arms to pace the length of the room. Damn him, he was going to sacrifice his happiness once more in a misguided attempt to keep her safe. Pressing her fingers against her temples to ease the pressure building in her head, she dropped her head heavily into her palm and let out an aggrieved growl at the unfairness of it all.

“If there is, I can’t see it,” he responded in a low voice, feeling just as chagrined with the situation and braced himself for the argument he knew was looming on the horizon as he turned to study her agitated walk through the chamber. Crossing his arms over his chest, he sank back into his heels, biting back an oath at her stubbornness and determined to counter any protest she had if necessary.

“So all that training, the months of sparring, of honing my powers were what?” she spat, his words snapping the thin restraint on her temper as she whirled around, her skirts rustling slightly as she stalked over and stood toe-to-toe with him, her hands resting on her hips. Glaring at him with exasperation, she waved her hand in agitation to flourish her point as she pinned him with fiery sable eyes. “All for nothing? I am well trained! You saw to that yourself!”

“I’m not willing to take the chance,” he bit out a bit more sharply than he intended, shaking his head in emphasis, his breath growing agitated once more as frustration rushed through his veins. He towered over her, attempting to intimidate her and growled when she only pressed back, cocking her brow impatiently at his tactics.

“I am not afraid of Rath,” she grated heatedly, stepping into his body, tipping her head back to glare at him and stabbed him the chest with her forefinger, drawing a grunt past his lips. “What I can’t do physically, I have my powers and the Granilith to back me up.”

“And what if your powers fail?” he argued hotly, stepping into her, their bodies pressed together intimately, forcing her to take a half-step back or risk toppling over. “Or you’re in a position that you can’t connect to the Granilith? What if you can’t move because you’re hurt? Or you’re unconscious? Damn it Liz, there are too many variables.”

“Then you will find me,” she shrugged, her breath hitching as she turned and strode away from him, to put some distance between them so she could analyze everything and find another solution, growing agitated when her mind kept coming up blank.

“What if it’s too late?” Michael retorted, pursuing her across the chamber, helpless fury and fear curling in his stomach, his heart pounding as a cold sweat broke across his body at the idea that she could be stolen right out from under his nose, claimed and taken away from him for life. “What if by the time I’m able to locate you, it’s done? What if it’s a true bonding not that makeshift bullshit they forced on Maria?”

“I will resist,” she countered heatedly, throwing an irritated moue over her shoulder and gasped when a steely hand clamped around her upper arm, halting her trek and spinning her around to meet fiery brandy orbs. Her eyes flared, mouth flattening into a thin line as he loomed over her and drew back slightly as he invaded her space, sucking in a deep breath at the expression his face.

“What if you can’t?” he growled, wrapping his hand around her other arm and yanking her up to him, faces pressed nose to nose, harsh breath mingling as glittering dark amber held sparking chocolate for several moments. Lowering her to the ground slowly, he pulled back as if scalded, cursing his loss of control and dragged his fingers through his hair, spinning on his heel and walking a few feet away, whispering brokenly. “I will not take that chance.”

Silence descended over the room once more as they stared at each other quietly, each struggling with a maelstrom of emotion, their breath ragged as they stood stock still in the aftermath of too much said, and yet not enough had been shared. Ripping her agonized gaze away from his, Liz swallowed thickly and nodded softly to herself as if finding the answer to an unvoiced question.

“No,” she whispered hoarsely, eyes averting to hide the sheen of tears in them as she shook her head in the negative, her fists clenched and stepped back slowly, retreating towards the chamber doors, missing the flash of pain flitting over Michael’s face. No, they couldn’t force her to do this.

“Liz,” he commanded gently, moving towards her but stopped when she spun around and quickened her pace, keeping her eyes anchored to him warily and stopped only when there was a healthy distance between them. His heart ached as distrust slid through those eyes that had always been an open book to him.

“No,” she repeated firmly, her voice clogging with the tears, her breath quickening almost to the point of hyperventilating as panic washed over her body and she knew she had to get out of there before she completely broke down. Whirling around, she strode to the doors purposefully. “No, I won’t let you…I won’t do it. They can’t make me.”

“Liz…please…wait,” Michael frantically called after her, but met with nothing but silence and the very abrupt slamming of the door, their connection echoing the same sentiment as she clamped down and shut him out. Heartbroken, he stormed through the chamber, kicking the chair she’d been sitting on and sent it flying across the room before he sat down at the conference table heavily. Dropping his head into his hands, helpless rage coursed through his veins and he jerked back in frustration, slamming his fist against the table, cursing under his breath. “Damn it!”

~

Brooding over the badly botched meeting with Liz, Michael had no idea how long he’d been sitting there staring off into to space, his mind whirling a mile a minute, before he heard someone enter the room. Looking up, he met the cool, stoic gray eyes of his second-in-command and grunted a greeting, running a hand over his head as he continued to contemplate what to do about Liz.

“I heard,” Davin said quietly, walking into the room slowly and shrugging when Michael’s head popped up, a perplexed expression on his face. “The entire palace is buzzing about the Council’s decree, not to mention several people saw Liz as she fled the chamber.”

“Great,” Michael muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly, his tension mounting with that information. Just what he needed; not only did he have to deal with Calais’ smug satisfaction and Liz feeling betrayed, but he also had to face an entire palace filled with either pitying or censorious looks. Like he didn’t already have enough on his plate.

“What happened?” the other man asked, leaning against the wall and watching his commander with concern, noting the lines of exhaustion around his eyes and the uncharacteristic slump of his shoulders as he continued to stare into nothingness.

“Exactly what they planned,” Michael returned bitterly, his elbow planted on the table, chin and mouth leaning heavily against his fist as he stared at the table absently, playing his and Liz’s conversation over in his head, wincing internally at how his words must have sounded. Trust him to completely fuck everything up. He really should just keep his mouth shut and find another way to communicate because he always managed to stick his foot in it. If there was a wrong way to say something, he’d find it.

“She didn’t take it well,” Davin concluded from his superior’s lost expression and minimal commentary. Sighing, he shoved off the wall and walked over to the window, knowing Michael would grow uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“Understatement of the year,” Michael snorted derisively, leaning back in his chair and looking over at Davin, clawing at his brow and shrugging as he turned around to face him once again. Rubbing his hand over his mouth, he stood and walked toward his friend. “Would you?”

“No,” the raven-haired man replied quietly, meeting Michael square in the eye as he crossed the chamber. He’d really wanted to be wrong about the Council’s intentions when it came to his King and Lady, but something about Calais and the others had made the hairs on his neck stand on end. “I tried to warn you about Calais.”

“I know,” Michael muttered, running a hand over his head uncomfortably as he leaned his hip against the windowsill, looking out at the Carlsbad, New Mexico landscape for a few moments before turning back to his second. “We need to put someone on Calais, Pyralis and Arius. I don’t trust them. Not after this.”

“Already done,” Davin affirmed soberly, serious slate eyes meeting surprised bourbon and shrugging once more. He hadn’t liked the whispers around the palace regarding the Councilman and it was his job to keep abreast of any potential threat to Michael and Liz. “It’s my job to anticipate these things. I’ve had them under surveillance for two months.”

“Anything?” Michael queried, his surprise evident, although he shouldn’t be. Davin had mentioned several times that Calais made his skin crawl and he had been suspicious of the overly ambitious Councilman from the very beginning. He, himself, had often felt uneasy in the man’s presence, but attributed that to their different outlooks in life.

“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time,” Davin responded, shifting his gaze out the window when a slight figure caught his attention, her blue robe swirling around her as she headed to her favored sanctuary. Catching a passing guard’s eye through the window, he nodded as the guard followed the petite brunette at a discreet distance, having set up a round the clock elite guard for her once he got word of Rath’s intentions.

“Let me know when you have something,” Michael sighed heavily, his eyes fixated on the pretty woman for very different reasons. Ripping his gaze from Liz’s retreating back, he focused on Davin once more, steely determination ringing through the room as he vowed. “I’m going to take those bastards down.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Davin nodded, running over all the things he needed to do in his head as he turned towards the double doors. He needed to up his surveillance on the Council, Calais in particular, plus he wanted to get into the man’s private quarters if possible. He didn’t like these latest developments.

“Davin, we’ve talked about this,” Michael rumbled, interrupting his second’s thoughts, a faint smile touching his lips as he looked over his shoulder and reminded the man for the thousandth time that they needn’t stand on formality when alone. He hated being addressed by his title among friends. “It’s Michael.”

“Yes, Your…Michael, old habits die hard.” Davin smiled sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. Watching his friend turn back to the window, pensively staring at the last place he saw Liz, Davin spoke his mind, hoping to assure the troubled man. “Michael, I don’t know if this helps, but she does love you. Everyone sees it when you’re together.”

“Maybe, but that won’t stop her,” Michael replied quietly, frowning thoughtfully, a cold dread snaking its way over his spine. He knew her too well to believe that she’d cave anytime soon, not to mention her penchant for acting on her own, evident by the Future Max debacle. And that scared him more than anything he’d found out today. “If anything, it will spur her on.”

[Ashita]

Whims - I'm glad you liked that scene and that it read true to where they are in this universe. I do promise you a happy ending...eventually. Because, well, I have to give them a happy ending after everything they've gone through. Hoped you liked this chapter as well. In the drabbles, I focus more on their frustration and tension, so ! wanted to infuse a dash of sweetness. Feeding the addiction. Thanks, as always, for the beta work on this story!

Barbara - Yes, I love that Liz is one of the few, if not the only person that stands up to Michael in this universe and that she's not going to cave to the Council's demands. And yes, while this one is sad, it will get better eventually. I promise. Thanks as always for the feedback!

K- it broke my heart too. I just wanted to yell at them to stop being so damn stubborn and tell each other how they feel! But well, it is Liz and Michael and after everything they've been through, they're scared that revealing their feelings will push the other away. If they only knew that not saying anything would cause a bigger rift.

Pandas2001 - I agree. But Michael has always had difficulty expressing his feelings and fumbles around a bit. Maria and how they got to this point will be explained in what has now become the sequels. I had originally started this story post war but there was so much interest in the actual lead up itself, that I wrote Shattered to show the events leading up to the rest of the story. Thanks for your feedback!

AN: For those curious, Michael's coronation outfit and Liz's gown is loosely based on this dress. But the bodice is embroidered, the back dips to her waist and the skirt isn't pleated in my version. Also, check out the yummy banners Whimsy made for this story on page 1 plus the others for the series on my authors page! She so rocks!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As reason clouds my eyes, with splendor fading
Illusions of the sunlight
And the reflection of a lie will keep me waiting
Love gone for so long


Michael sat on his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his head cupped in his palms as he mentally cursed the way he had handled the whole situation three days ago. Scraping a hand over two-day old scruff wearily, he lifted his head and stared around his room blindly, oblivious and uncaring of the opulent surroundings. Nothing mattered to him after flubbing that meeting with Liz; her shattered expression haunted him, had left him feeling hollow.

Damn his stubborn pride and his inability to express his thoughts.

He should have been upfront, told her about his feelings, and shouldn’t have fallen back on his relentless need to protect and preserve. He knew that never worked with her. If anyone could match him in stubbornness, it was the petite brunette that had come to mean the world to him over the past months. But, intent on keeping her safe from his dupe, he’d reacted without thinking and said it all wrong. She had an uncanny knack for driving him to absolute distraction and he was so heavy-tongued and bumbling around her.

He’d really botched it this time.

Sighing, he set his hands on his thighs and stood, walking towards his window, hoping to make sense of his whirling thoughts and figure out how to make things right with Liz. As he passed his dresser, a glint caught the corner of his eye and they fell onto the bonding bracelets he’d created a couple of months before when he announced his intentions to ask Liz to bond with him to the Council.

Picking up the more delicate of the two, he rubbed his thumb over the coszcatls, a midnight blue jewel that glowed with purple light when exposed to warmth, and stared out the window as the memory of when he first realized he loved her crashed over him.

~*~

Staring out at the party solemnly from the royal box, he felt a pang of emptiness as he thought of the reason for this so-called celebration; there had to be about thousand people out there. He really didn’t want the fuss made, but it wasn’t everyday that one was officially crowned king. It seemed silly considering he’d been king for months now, but deep down, he knew the people needed this, a small slice of normality and distraction in a world gone mad, but his heart still ached knowing that Max was dead.

But the world didn’t stop turning when the king died. It went spinning on, never pausing, and he didn’t have the time to stop and mourn. Not with the war in full force and everyone dependent on his guidance. Tugging at the edge of his banded collar shirt uncomfortably, he stared at himself mockingly as he straightened his cream Nouveau jacket and matching cream and gold vest, arranging them over midnight black slacks. He really hated dressing up.

But the Council had said it was necessary, including the light, gold woven circlet that graced his neat, pony-tailed, shoulder-length waves he usually allowed to hang around his face carelessly. What he wouldn’t give to be in his comfortable everyday pants and knit shirts. Even his formal robes were more comfortable than this get up.

He felt like a chump.

But the people expected a king, no matter how much the image chafed. Not to mention he wanted to do Liz, his ‘date’, proud when she walked down on his arm. That was a Council decree too – the necessity of having a consort for the evening. Luckily for him, Liz had been happy to fill the required role of hostess.

He couldn’t imagine trying to fill the time with one of the frivolous ladies at court. And he’d rather stab himself in the eye with a fork than make small talk. At least with Parker, he was guaranteed to have an intelligent conversation. Thank the Granilith for her. She was the only one getting him through this transition it seemed. Shaking off his thoughts, he turned as he heard a light step and rustle behind him. Speak of the devil.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she murmured breathlessly, her head dipped down as she removed her winter gloves and slid them into the pocket of her black winter cloak. Raising exasperated, smoky, chocolate eyes to his, she brushed back a wavy, espresso tendril that had escaped the mass of curls artfully arranged at the crown of her head. “Isabel was on Nazi mode and I thought I’d never get out of there.”

“No problem,” he replied, exchanging an amused smirk with her, knowing all too well that it was fruitless to argue with Isabel when she got in one of those moods. Studying the pretty face shining up at him wickedly, he was happy to see a small smile settle on pale pink lips. They had so little to smile about these days, and it did his heart good when any of his friends could find a small measure of joy. “Being king affords me the luxury of being fashionably late.”

Her smile slipped slightly at that reminder, becoming soft and sympathetic as she reached out and squeezed his hand, offering a small measure of comfort in a difficult time. Smiling sadly, he squeezed her fingers gently before looking up at the waiting servant to let him know that they were ready to be announced.

“Shall we?” he queried, taking her hand and placing it on the crook of his arm as he lead her out of the box and into the bright ballroom lights, noticing for the first time that she had jeweled pins in the shape of the royal flower dispersed in her hair. The jewels shone almost as brightly as all those lustrous dark, chocolate curls.

Letting go of her hand momentarily, his breath hitched and his heart sped up when she turned her back to him, silently sliding her cloak off her shoulders, revealing her evening gown for the first time. The gown left much of her back bare, only a three-inch band of midnight-blue silk crossing her back to hold up the dress that left one, silky, mocha shoulder bare. Her dark tresses cascaded over her neck, leaving all that enticing skin visible.

His mouth dried, lips parting slightly and his eyes flared as she turned, revealing a tight, square-cut neckline adorned with intricate gold embroidery, clinging down to her waist before the silk draped over slender hips, whispering against her sandal-clad feet. The dress was anchored to one shoulder by two straps that formed a sort of cap sleeve and it clung to every subtle curve of her body. Inhaling sharply, he felt sucker punched by the vision she made and an equally startling discovery.

She was wearing his family colors.

Drinking down the beauty before him, he swallowed thickly, licking his lips unconsciously as dazed eyes met hers and he tried to shake off his captivation, offering his arm to her once more, pressing his hand against hers. Moving to the top of the staircase, he had to fight the urge to look at her and failed miserably as his eyes got caught up in her once more. Ripping his gaze away from her profile, he reeled and faced front as the herald announced them.

“His Majesty, King Rathin of Antar and Her Grace, Lady Elizabeth Parker.”

Leading her down the steps amid applause, he was oblivious to the fawning masses as he was too busy covertly watching her from the corner of his eye, his breath ragged and stomach fluttering uncomfortably as the soft scent of vanilla, jasmine and rain teased his nose. Heart pounding, he felt a familiar curl of heat in his stomach and grew quickly unsettled, completely at a loss.

When had he fallen for the beauty at his side?

~*~

Holding his hand out to her, he smiled down into soft, sparkling ebony eyes when she slid a cool, silky palm in his and he led her out onto the dance floor for the coronation dance. He usually hated dancing, but at the moment, still reeling over his new found feelings, he was willing to put himself through the torture just so he could wrap her in his arms. At least the required ritual had a silver lining – it gave him an excuse to be close to her.

Pulling her into his arms gently, his throat tightened and convulsed as her body brushed against his and he clasped her hand firmly, leading her into the first steps of their dance, swaying slightly. Fire shot over his nerves when her body pressed to his innocently. Biting back a groan, he moved back and twirled her around, hoping to put some distance between her and his rapidly hardening body.

Unfortunately, he didn’t step back far enough and she caught his foot and stumbled, falling against his chest heavily, erupting into a giggle at their clumsiness. Snorting, he met her amused gaze with a wry grin, shrugging his shoulders and dropped his hand to her waist to steady her, unconsciously cinching her into his body as she rested hers on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he whispered against her ear, pressing his nose to the soft tresses, inhaling that soft scent that had been driving him crazy all night. Pulling their joined hands in against his heart, he closed his eyes and slid the hand at her waist up, splaying it against bare skin, reveling in the feel of warm, satin sliding under callused fingers. “I tried to talk them out of the dance, but they insisted.”

“I don’t mind,” she murmured, notching her head under his chin, the hand at his shoulder sliding up to rest on the nape of his neck, soft fingers absently playing with the fine hairs that had escaped his leather throng. Dear God, she was going to kill him.

“Yeah, but I know how terrible I am,” he rasped, his heart beating wildly as he fought to regain control, biting back a pained grunt when she tipped her head back to meet his eyes, inadvertently bowing her body and pressing the lower half much more firmly to his.

“You’re doing great,” she smiled reassuringly, looking at him from beneath thick, sable lashes, cheeks flushed with a light wash of pink and soft, glossy lips hovering just inches from his own. It took every ounce of his will power to not lower his head and capture those moist pink lips.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, keeping his voice low and intimate so it didn’t break the heavy air of enchantment surrounding them. He knew he’d have to come back to reality soon enough, but for this moment, he just wanted to feel this lovely woman, soft, warm and welcoming, in his arms.

“Yeah,” she whispered huskily, getting lost in the moment herself and dropped her eyes, blushing lightly when he rested his forehead to hers, their lips a whisper apart, their breaths mingling. Untangling their hands, he pressed hers against his heart before reaching up to stroke her cheek gently, her eyes sliding shut at the soft caress and completely missing the hunger and love so plainly visible on his face.

~*~

She sat across from him, talking animatedly, although he couldn’t quite follow her conversation because he was too caught up in watching the play of emotion and light over her face. Nodding, he tore his eyes from her face and took a bite of his food, but didn’t really taste any of it as his mind kept churning over all the moments, the little details that should have painted this picture a long time ago.

There had been so many signs now that he looked back with a critical eye, so many times that proved his feelings for her had changed, but he’d been so caught up with the war, he’d missed it somehow. But he couldn’t ignore what was staring him in the face. He was in love with her. Probably had been for years.

‘Thank you for giving me one more reason to envy, Max Evans.’

Suddenly those words he’d spoken so long ago took on new meaning. It wasn’t to say he hadn’t loved Maria. He had, heart and soul, but just maybe there had always been a small corner of his heart reserved for a fearless, petite brunette that had no problem standing up to him in the middle of a darkened alley.

Shaking his head, he turned back to said brunette and smiled when she made a comment, holding her fork out to him with some bit of food to try, although he knew he wouldn’t have been able to describe it later.

“I’m surprised they got you to wear a crown,” she teased, reaching up and straightening the gold circlet so that it rested against his brow properly, lightly fingering the simple woven band. “I thought you said you wouldn’t wear one.”

“You should have seen what they wanted me to wear,” he muttered dryly, rolling his eyes as he recalled the ostentatious monstrosity they had the nerve to call a crown. King or not, there was no way in hell he was going to walk around with a six-inch high gold crown, encrusted with jewels. He’d felt like a moron when they set it on his head and quickly told them to stuff it. “Trust me, this was a compromise.”

“It suits you,” she said, admiration shining in her eyes, and smiled at him softly, her grin widening when a light flush colored the crests of his cheeks and he averted his eyes. Flicking them to her once more, his heart thudded and he smiled reluctantly, feeling ridiculously pleased at the warm appreciation in coffee-tinted irises.

~*~

Coming back to himself, he continued to stare out the window moodily, absently caressing the jewel between his fingers, and exhaled loudly, pressing his hands against the window frame, the muscles of his back rippling with tension. He had to end this silence that had built between them and tell her the truth and tensed further when he heard a rustle of robes behind him.

“Rath?” Jarid queried uncertainly, knowing he was far from his brother’s good graces at the moment, but he had only wanted what was best for him and the woman he loved. When the Council started making noises of forcing Elizabeth to bond in order to preserve their link to the Granilith, it was he that pointed out that his and Rath’s lineage on their mother’s side made him an ideal candidate. He did it out of love for both parties.

“Leave me,” Michael growled under his breath, still feeling the sting of betrayal that his own flesh and blood would go behind his back, no matter his intentions. Jarid had explained his reasoning and he knew that his brother wanted nothing but the best for him and Liz, but it infuriated him that they still thought to control their lives. “I’m in no mood to talk to you.”

“This is for the best you know,” Jarid pointed out, turning to go, throwing his last thought over his shoulder as he left, heavy-hearted but certain he had made the right move. “They would have forced her to bond no matter what. Better it be you than some stranger that could never love and appreciate her as you do.”

Flinching at the thought of Liz bonded to someone other than him, Michael grunted and continued to stare out the window, his eyes falling on a familiar head of sable waves as she wandered out into the garden. Running his eyes over her lithe, graceful form, his heart stuttered and swelled with emotion and he knew he would do whatever he had to do to make her his mate.

Breath hitching as she stopped and turned, tipping her face towards his window, he met her curiously blank gaze and pressed his hand with the bracelet against the window as time stilled and they stared at each other for several heavy moments, his heart breaking at her haggard appearance. Her throat convulsed, back stiffening as the jewel sparkled in the sunlight and she tore her gaze from his and kept walking down the path, her arms wrapped around herself.

Swallowing thickly, he closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped as his heart panged, uncertain of how to make things right between them. Even if he could get close to her. She’d been blocking and avoiding him for days. Watching the rapidly disappearing figure, he bit back an oath and tore himself away from the window. He had wanted her for so long and bonding to her had been all he thought about the past few months.

“Just not this way,” he whispered to the room as he set the bracelet on his dresser and headed for the garden determined to track down his elusive bride-to-be.

[Ashita]

Barbara - Thanks as always for your comments! And yeah, Michael and Liz are going to have a tough time until the truth comes out. Glad you're enjoying the history of this universe. We'll see a little more through Liz's memories in this chapter. Plus I'm well into the piece that follows this, which is Tess and Max's story and provides a little more insight into the group dynamics.

Whims - Thanks again for the comments, betaing and putting up with me as this universe develops since I know it's mushroomed exponentially since it's inception. I can't believe a story that started as 3 POV shorts is now a (planned) 8 story series. I'm insane. Also thanks much for the banners once more. I may have to pick your brain about banners for the added stories.

Storyteller - Thanks for all your help in the shaping of this story as well, especially as it has morphed so much over the first time I presented it. It's been so much fun and I can't believe how much this universe has been speaking to me. I'll have some other stuff soon. I hope. lol!

AN: I suppose I should say something about this series. I never intended to develop this universe to the degree that it has blossomed. It was supposed to be 3, maybe 4 short POVs and I wasn't going to touch on the actual war, just the aftermath and then as I was thinking about what was motivating my characters, this entire world developed. I didn't really want to start another epic universe or story, but my muse hasn't let it be and now, I have outlines and notes for eight different stories to this universe. Several that are close to completion. What can I say, she is vicious once she sinks her teeth into something. So, I want to apologize as I know I've neglected my other stories (I am working on them, but just slower) but I can't seem to get away from this idea. One last thing, this series will not develop linearly but more web-like and presented in bits and pieces until I get to the last story that will take all those pieces and show you how they got to those points. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed creating it.

On to the next part of Michael and Liz's story
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This day's ending is the proof
Of time killing all the faith I know
Knowing that faith is all I hold


Walking through the garden swiftly, Liz fought to block Michael from her thoughts and ignore that touch of sadness swimming in his eyes when they had met through the glass of his window. Most people would have seen the blank façade of a man that apparently had no concerns or worries, and months ago, he might have even fooled her, but she knew him too well – almost as well as she knew herself.

But she promised herself she wouldn’t focus on that, on him today.

Snorting, she ran a hand through her hair and shook her head, lips quirking in derisive amusement centered directly at herself. Who was she kidding? He was all she had thought about these past three days. The scene in the Council chambers had played through her head on an endless loop, keeping her awake until the wee hours of the morning before her body finally gave up and succumbed to exhaustion.

She knew she looked a mess – disheveled, eyes marred with dark circles and her hair a tangled nest, but what did it matter?

Squeezing her eyes closed to quell the prickle of tears forming in them, she gasped as a fresh wave of pain washed over her body and sat heavily on a bench. Resting her elbows on her thighs, she slumped and stared at the pebbled path blankly, dropping her head into her hands, his words reverberating through her head.

“There is no other way…Do you think I want to do this…To protect you… I want...I will do anything to keep you safe…To protect you… I will not let Rath take you… Damn it Liz, there are too many variables… I will not take that chance …To protect you…To protect you.”

Growling under her breath, she crushed her fingers against her skull trying to stop the endless bombardment of words, helpless anger and pain spiking through her blood and damned the Council’s lack of vision and prejudice that led her and Michael to this place. He was going to sacrifice himself again. Oh, he wouldn’t view it that way, but that’s exactly what was happening. He would try to convince her he wanted this.

But his words had given him away and she loved him too much to allow it.

~*~

She stared at the crystal in front of her with frustration, pacing around it at she studied it from all sides, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. She had learned from Future Max that it was important to keep the thing safeguarded, and the Council had since informed them that it was an important religious artifact on Antar, but what was the point of it? So far, the thing had just sat in its chamber, cold, silent and useless.

The council had brought several Granilith priestesses with them, but so far, none of them could connect with the being. She was remaining stubbornly silent. But for some reason, the past few nights, she’d been dreaming of the crystal and a warm feminine voice calling her name over the wind. And she couldn’t figure out what that meant.

Stopping in front of the crystal once more, Liz flicked contemplative eyes over it and squared her shoulders, stepping next to it and tapping into that altered part of her, feeling the rush of her powers flowing over her limbs. Pooling it into her hands, she lifted them and pressed them against its surface, her body snapping when her energy merged with the being, an electrical current bowing her back and sending ripples of energy zinging through her blood.

Light exploded across her eyes, forcing her to clench them shut, and she trembled when her body grew light and airy, seeming to lift right off the ground. Opening her eyes, she gasped as the walls of chamber seemed to melt away and she could see the rooms surrounding her. Then she could see the entirety of the citadel, latching onto Michael hunched over his desk in the war room before ascending once more and seeing the entirety of Roswell, images rushing past her too fast for her to comprehend.

And then she stopped, the desert small and dark beneath her, startling when a feminine figure walked towards her, although she couldn’t give an accurate description as the being seemed to morph from form to form with ease, never settling on a face and body for too long. She was one, and yet all at the same time. Fathomless eyes of no one color focused on Liz as she came to a stand still in front of her, cupping her cheeks and pressing warm lips to her brow, smiling fondly as she pulled back.

‘Welcome my child.’

And then she was back in her body, but no longer alone. She was still Goddess touched and felt the thrum of another, masculine presence. Focusing on that male thread, she startled when she felt Michael all around her, his strength, determination, frustration with the way the war was going and a touch of confusion as he noticed her presence as well, and a deep, almost instantaneous connection flared between them when they recognized each other.

‘Wow,’ she whispered mentally, still riding the high of her experience, and clutched her jumpy stomach with trembling fingers as she stared around at the intact Granilith chamber. She couldn’t figure out what the hell just happened, but her educated guess was that she had somehow bonded to the being. ‘What a rush.’

‘Liz?’ Michael whispered in her head, confusion evident, breathing harshly as her energy ran over his nerves and his mind tried to process what exactly had just happened.

‘Michael?’ she whispered back, growing more confused and apprehensive by the minute. She had been used to having a connection with Max, but this was different. She and Max had never managed mind speak like he and Tess had, and her heart fluttered nervously that she suddenly had the ability with Michael.

‘Where are you?’ he asked quietly, his own apprehension apparent before he quelled it and sent her a reassuring wave of energy, gently caressing her raw, open nerves and tamping down the Granilith’s affect on her.

‘Granilith chamber,’ she murmured breathlessly, still watching the crystal hesitantly, stepping back a few paces and staggering, her knees nearly buckling after her energy expense.

‘What happened?’ he asked, his worry spiking when he felt a wave of exhaustion roll through her body and tried to bolster her flagging strength with his own.

‘I-I’m not sure. I touched it and then there was this flash of light and suddenly I could see everything around us, the citadel, the men sparring in the fields, Roswell…’ she whispered in awe, staring at the crystal wide-eyed as she pressed her back against the chamber wall and searching for the words describe her experience, yet failing. ‘And then I think I met Her. Then I was back in my body and I could feel you, all of you.’

And it had been, he had been, was so beautiful.

Michael’s heart skipped a beat at her unspoken thought and then sped up as those words rolled around in his head. Forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand, he shoved the thoughts away for later. ‘You okay?’

‘I…I don’t know. Tired,” she said sliding down the wall, her eyes feeling heavy, a thick blanket of lethargy rolling over her body as she came off the adrenaline high and realized just how much of her power she had used to connect with the Granilith. She just wanted to curl up and sleep. ‘Feeling kind of weak; my energy’s spent.’

“Stay where you are,’ Michael rumbled, fear shooting over his nerves as he felt her energy waning through their new connection and jumped out of his chair, striding out of his office towards the chamber. ‘I’m coming.’

~*~

Liz watched her opponent warily, circling him and feeling a little put out that he had shut down their connection, but understanding that it was necessary for this exercise. Without the constant thrum of Michael in her head, she felt a little lost and empty. But being linked up, she would have been able to anticipate his moves as they sparred, and that would give her a distinct advantage.

And it also would leave her at a disadvantage, because she wouldn’t learn to anticipate moves by watching his body language, which was more important and essential if she were to ever meet up with one of their enemies. It was pivotal that she be able to defend herself now that her link to the Granilith had been leaked to the other side and she had become a target.

Keeping her eyes leveled on him, she saw his muscles bunch in anticipation and managed to dodge his arm, blocking his move and bouncing back out of his reach, dropping and stretching out a foot to try sweeping his feet out from under him, but he jumped out of the way and caught her from behind as she rose. Stepping into him, she thrust her hip into his stomach while yanking on his arm, throwing him off balance and using his own momentum to throw him to the floor.

He rebounded easily, rolling gracefully to his feet and spun to face her, his hair plastered to his sweaty forehead, determined whiskey eyes meeting hers as he cocked a brow, searching for weaknesses in her defense. They had been sparring for about an hour now and other than one time, she had managed to stay out of his clutches. But she knew she was tiring and it was only a matter of time before he got the upper hand.

Brushing back a strand of hair, she made a fatal mistake, briefly taking her eyes from him, and he quickly used it to his advantage, taking a running leap at her, grabbing her around the waist and rolling them to the ground, swiftly pinning her down with his body. Panting, they lay there for a minute while she dragged air back into lungs, momentarily stunned by the impact. Meeting his triumphant smirk, she rolled her eyes and huffed as he settled more firmly against her body, cocking a brow in challenge, daring her to get out of this predicament.

“I seem to be ending up in this position often with you,” she muttered huskily, wincing internally at how the words sounded, and shivered slightly, a pulse of desire flowing hotly through her blood as something dark and dangerous flit through Michael’s eyes. Licking her lips nervously, her breath hitched as his eyes honed in on her lips and stared.

“Well, it took me longer to pin you this time, “ he responded as he tore his eyes away from soft, pink flesh, meeting hers and darkening, growing heavy and desire-laden. His body brushed against hers softly, his fingers sliding up over her arm and shoulder, his touch searing her skin as he reached up to push back a stray strand of hair. “So you’re getting better, Lumia.”

“Lumia?” she whispered, molten chocolate latching onto the lips hovering over hers, his warm, damp breath fanning over her face. Her eyes flicked away from his mouth when he groaned and met his once more, her fingers brushing against his chest absently, his muscles contracting and rippling under her fingertips.

“Yeah, fiery one, it suits you on many levels,” he murmured, staring at her lips once more before his eyes blanked and he stood hastily, holding out a hand to pull her to her feet. Stepping back, he got back into his sparring stance and commanded. “Again.”

~*~

Her lips quirked as she watched Michael, as he crouched near one of the orphans they had taken into the citadel, talking to him about the picture he’d been painting. The boy beamed, his eyes dancing happily that he had attracted the king’s attention, and talked to Michael animatedly, expressing himself with his hands. A warm glow filled her heart and she sighed softly at the sweetness of the scene.

It had been Michael’s idea to open up the ballroom today and have a ‘picnic,’ giving the kids a place to run and play despite the rain chasing them indoors and ruining their plans for an outdoor picnic. And the suggestion had been a great one, the children soaking up his attention like little sponges.

Michael looked up as he felt her eyes on him and smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement before turning back to the child and ruffling his hair, standing to remove his robes, revealing his black sleeveless shirt and pants. Tucking his robe under his arm, he headed her way, but hadn’t taken no more than a handful of steps before he was waylaid by a tug on his pants. Dropping his robe onto a chair, he stooped and tweaked the little girl’s nose, running his hand over raven curls.

Lifting her into his arms, he stood and tossed her in the air, her bright, childish chortle mixing with his own low, rumbling laughter as he tossed her a couple more times before settling her onto his hip. Dipping his head, he smiled at the imp as she told him a story about a kitten and a puppy and a ball of string, his eyes crinkling in amusement as he tried to make sense of her broken sentences.

Liz’s heart stilled as she watched the scene, a rush of sweetness swelling in her heart as Michael’s face lit up and her breath hitched, eyes softening as she realized what an amazing father he was going to make. Furrowing her brow, she continued to watch them, her heart pinching at the idea of him bonding to someone and having children.

Ripping her eyes from him, she stared off into space wondering at her reaction and rubbed her arms unconsciously, as if she were chilled despite the inviting warmth of the hall. Fixing her eyes back on her friend, Liz stared at him as if she’d never really seen him before, her mouth bone dry and her breath heavy as wide eyes traveled over the rippling muscles, bunching and playing in his back and arms.

Michael looked up, feeling her eyes on him and his own widened as he took in her absorbed expression, licking his lips unconsciously. Kissing the moppet’s forehead, he set the child down, keeping his eyes on Liz and striding across the ballroom, his intent expression making her heart thrum against her breast. Licking her lips nervously, she squirmed under that heated look and jolted, realizing she was falling hard for the man striding determinedly towards her.

~*~

Startling when she heard the crunch of gravel, Liz swiped a hand over her face to wipe away the tears she’d finally let fall unchecked and lurched off of the bench, feeling a familiar thrum of predatory energy. Damn, he’d decided to track her down in the gardens. Stubborn, persistent man – he never gave up.

How she loved that about him, and hated it at the same time.

[Ashita]

Barbara - Thanks for the feedback! I agree, more Michael and Liz is a good thing indeed. At least in my world. I also love Michael's fumbling in this universe given in my others he's usually confident and sure of himself and his place in Liz's life. It's fun to have him slightly awkward and watch the sparks fly when he fumbles things.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And I've lost who I am
And I can't understand
Why my heart is so broken
Rejecting your love


Michael came into the sun room, looking around quietly, and opened up his senses further, taking a deep drag of air into his lungs and catching that elusive scent of vanilla, jasmine and rain that had been haunting him for over a week now. She was still refusing to talk to him, going so far as to avoid him at dinner, and to use their connection as a way to track his movements.

He knew that she had been here, the room reverberated with a faint tingle of her energy and that damn perfume or lotion or shampoo or whatever the hell it was that drove him crazy hung in the air, taunting him for being too late and just missing her once again. Like he had been doing all week. The woman was driving him insane. He understood that she was upset with the way things had turned out, but time was slipping by and they didn’t have the luxury of waiting her out.

If the intelligence his agents had gathered was correct, Rath would be making a move soon, and she was too busy avoiding him to make a plan for her safety. He was ready to say the hell with it and trap her in her room, tying her down to her bed if necessary. Hissing as that last thought painted an all too tempting visual into his head, he grimaced, running an exasperated hand through his hair and decided against it, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to resist temptation if he found himself in that situation.

Further proof that the woman was driving him nuts. He was beyond frustrated at this point.

Closing his eyes, he tapped into that deep part of him where a part of her resided and focused on that thread that she couldn’t hide from him, no matter how hard she tried to mask herself. It was the nature of such connections, to keep the other partner safe. Following that thread, he broke through to her consciousness and smirked at her ripple of panic as she tried to shore the breach, quickly followed by frustration when she couldn’t.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of doing this before, other than the fact that he’d been so focused on talking to her face-to-face, that he’d forgotten about that little trap door into their psyches. He sat for a quiet moment, reveling in the soothing, soft glow of her surrounding him for a moment. He’d gotten so used to having her in his head that he desperately missed feeling her this way.

‘Lumia, I know you can hear me,’ Michael telepathed, feeling an answering ripple of irritation coming from her. Usually he would feel bad about this breach of her privacy, but desperate times called for desperate measures and he needed her to listen for her own good. ‘Not going to answer? That’s petty, Liz. I thought we’d grown beyond these games.’

He knew that would rankle, but he was hoping to jolt some sort of response from the stubborn woman and grew irked when she remained just as stubbornly silent as always. He’d wonder if she had managed to find a way to block him if he didn’t still feel her presence all around him, that soft, cool blue light running over his nerves like a balm. The bonds weren’t meant to be shut down like this and he knew she must be exhausting her energy stores trying to keep him at bay.

Using that gentle spark, he walked through the rooms seeking her out, dying to feel her close to him once more, following that humming energy room to room as she moved through the palace. Her exhaustion washed over him and he had to wonder how she kept this up when he was all too aware of her sleepless nights. He always knew the exact moment she fell asleep because their connection flared full-force once she didn’t consciously control it.

This had to end.

‘Fine, don’t answer, but I need you to listen,’ he replied, worry lacing his every thought, desperately trying to rein in the panic that was starting to bubble in his gut every time he thought of how much time was ticking away. ‘We are running out of time. Rath is coming for you whether you like it or not. Please, Liz.’

Michael stopped as he felt her pause for a moment, thoughtful contemplation sliding through that open line. He nearly sighed with relief when it seemed like she was going to come around and finally talk to him; he could feel it on the edges of his consciousness and his heart leapt, breath picking up in excitement, hope trickling through his blood as he felt her soften, and then he made a fatal mistake.

‘I can protect you,’ he whispered.

And just like that, the connection snapped closed with the vehemence of her denial, leaving him out in the cold once more and he slumped, resting his head against the wall a moment before helpless fury whipped through his body. Growling in frustration, he slammed his fist into the wall, pain lashing through his arm as he stormed off to the war room to assign her a guard, cursing his stupidity under his breath.

He had to get out of here before he lost patience, hunted her down and did what had briefly flashed through his mind earlier, temptation be damned.


Without love gone wrong
Life; Less words, carry on

But I know, all I know
Is that the ends beginning


“Again!” he commanded as he watched his men work through some strategic maneuvers, frustration coursing through his blood at their sloppy performance. Well that wasn’t quite accurate, only part of his frustration stemmed from their performance. Most of his frustration was wrapped up in one obstinate brunette, and he was close to giving up on making her see reason, especially after this morning.

Almost.

Ok, not really, but at the moment he was trying to focus on something more productive rather than beating his head against the wall known as ‘Liz’ and set about shoring up his defenses since it was becoming obvious that bonding was out of the question – for now. Watching those measures play out before him; he grew antsy and fought the burning urge to storm his own castle, cart the stubborn woman off, and lock her into a room where he could yell at her until she gave in. Patience had never been one of his strong suits.

This wall silence between them, the fact that he didn’t know what was going on with her, what was going on in her head, scared him to death. He had a bad feeling that her silence wasn’t just because she was upset with him, but because she was planning something drastic to get out of the Council’s decree. He couldn’t allow that to happen – she was all that he had left in this world. He didn’t think he’d make it without her.

Shaking off his thoughts, he continued to watch his men as they sparred.

This he could do. If she wouldn’t accept his personal protection, the least he could do was keep a highly trained guard on hand at all times to watch over her. He knew she’d hate that, but she’d just have to suck it up and deal. No way was he going to leave her alone until this was resolved one way or another.

Stubborn woman, what the hell was he going to do about her?

After she shut him out this morning, he had assigned one of his best guards to keep a covert eye out and headed to the sparring field, despite deep seeded need to be near her. He knew that if he didn’t get out of the palace for a couple hours and work off some of his aggression, he was going to explode. Already, he could feel walls closing in on him, yesterday having marked two weeks since he’d first learned of Rath’s intentions and he’d been crawling the walls, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

At least out on the sparring field, he had a physical outlet for the tension and helpless rage thrumming through his blood.

Shifting uneasily, his back and arms coiled as he stayed on high alert, his eyes constantly shifting over the New Mexico desert, his gaze being drawn time and again to the new Granilith chamber on the far corner of their encampment. Something was brewing, he could feel it in the heavily charged air, and it was making the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, his flesh crawl and prickle. As if someone was watching him.

Narrowing his eyes, he swept the terrain once more, his vigilance not going unnoticed by Davin, who stopped what he was doing to look around, his shoulders tensing as if he sensed something as well. Exchanging a nod, they walked towards one another to confer when Michael halted, all of his nerves set on edge and his muscles tensing further as movement just beyond the camp caught the corner of his eye.

Whipping his head to the side, he growled under his breath as he caught sight of Rath standing cockily on a large rock just beyond the stronghold fences, legs splayed shoulder-width apart, arms crossed over his chest as he watched him with a smug smirk. Meeting his second’s eyes, he nodded as Davin gathered several men and they headed toward the rock formations, his brow pinching suspiciously as something didn’t feel right.

Part of him had to wonder why Rath was just standing there, alone and out in the open, taunting him…as if he was trying to draw him that way purposely. Freezing mid-stride, he glanced around quickly, searching every nook and cranny for movement, but still didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and that alone made his gut clench, the dread creeping over his spine spiking to new heights.

Something was definitely not right.

No way would Rath openly taunt him unless he had a plan in place. It would have left him vulnerable to attack and if there is one thing he’d learned over the years, it was that despite his street punk vibe and appearance, the man was crafty and intelligent. He knew better than to underestimate the man who wore his face.

Turning his fiery gaze onto his twin, he cocked a brow and pressed his lips together as he tried to figure out what he had up his sleeve. What would he do if the roles were reversed? If it were him, he would have either snuck in alone, under the cover of night, when he was more likely to slip past a less than vigilant guard, or come in full force with an army. Which meant this was a set up. Unless there was something he didn’t know.

Backing up slowly, he kept his eyes on the man that sought to steal away the only person he’d allowed himself to love unconditionally since Maria’s disappearance. Meeting Rath’s eyes fiercely, he sent him a wordless warning that he’d have to come through him first to get to her, because he was damned if he was going to let her go without a fight to the death. Rath smirked again, laughing heartily at his challenge, dipping his head mockingly before he smiled slyly and saluted him as he vanished into thin air.

“Shit!” Michael swore, his mouth gaping, freezing for a second time, this time in shock, and turned around in a circle searching the area and coming up with nothing. Mouth drying as fear shot over his spine, he turned to Davin just to make sure it hadn’t been his imagination and saw his panic echoing back at him. “Fuck!”

“You, you and you, come with me,” he commanded, already turning back towards the palace, his heart in his throat wondering what the hell had just happened. Was it astral projection or teleporting and when the hell had Rath had developed that particular skill? Son of a bitch, he hated surprises. “Davin, I want every soldier out in the fields, turn this camp upside down. I want every building searched, every crevice inspected, every rock overturned! No one is to rest until I am satisfied that bastard isn’t anywhere near Liz!”

“Go, make sure she’s safe,” Davin waved him off, knowing Michael never even heard him as he was already halfway to the palace. Gathering the men present, he rattled off several sets of instructions as he stalked toward the bunks to gather the rest of the army to begin an all out search for Michael’s twin.

Heart pounding, Michael broke out into a full out run as he hit the palace walls, the soldiers he’d chosen following closely on his heels as they plowed through the garden and up the steps, frantically looking around. He’d leave the actual search to his men; his only thought was to safeguard his queen and keep his depraved dupe away from the woman he loved.

Racing through the halls, he caught sight of the guard he’d assigned Liz as he hastened through the halls towards Liz’s suite of rooms, his face filled with concern. Doubling his pace, his stomach dropped when Liz was nowhere to be seen and a chill rippled over his body, anxiety rushing through his veins, as he feared he was too late.

“Nas, where’s Liz?” he demanded as he caught up with the swiftly moving guard, praying that his worst fears wouldn’t be confirmed.

“Her room,” he panted as he continued down the hall swiftly. “We were sitting in the sunroom when all of a sudden she got a panicked look on her face and cried ‘Rath’ before she jumped out of her seat and bolted to her room. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast in my life.”

“She’s safe?” he questioned, passing the guard and swiftly rounding the corner to Liz’s sanctuary and then waved off his response, relaxing slightly when he felt the familiar thrum of her energy over his skin. She must have felt him panic when Rath disappeared and opened the connection to find out what was wrong, secreting herself away when it became obvious something was seriously wrong, leaving the link in place to stay tuned with him. Thank God.

Stalking to her door, he gave their predetermined signal that it was really he at her door, not an enemy shapeshifter impersonating him and although the precaution had become unnecessary with their connection, he did it for her reassurance. Waiting impatiently for her to unseal and lock the door, he clenched and unclenched his fists, vowing his dupe was a dead man if anything happened to her. Nothing would save him from his wrath if she were harmed.

The door finally flew open and he let out a pent up breath that he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding in as she appeared before him slightly spooked, but unharmed and he couldn’t help but drink in the sight of her.

Striding in, he dragged her in his arms, wrapping her into his chest as he ordered the men to search the suite, keeping her anchored to him and watching the windows and door furtively as they began a thorough search. Pressing his lips to her temple when he felt a fine tremor run through her body, he cursed his dupe and couldn’t wait to get his hand on his hands on him. He’d gladly throttle him for putting her through this upheaval.

Murmuring against her ear reassuringly, he stroked her hair and reveled in her proximity, soothing her raw nerves with the cool kiss of his powers. She pressed her face into his chest and sent an answering wave of her own over his senses, taking his panic down a notch, but it wasn’t until his men gave the all clear, that his heart started beating normally.

Body trembling, he bit back a sigh of relief, closing his eyes tightly as he dropped a kiss on her head, holding her close for another minute before pulling back, knowing he still had a long night ahead of him. Now that she was safeguarded, he needed to get to the war room and coordinate his troops movements and set up a search grid to make sure nothing was overlooked. He wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

“Nas and Gavin, you are to stay in the suite with Liz at all times; Ren and Varik, you are to guard her door,” he commanded, damning the fact that he couldn’t stay with her himself. Flicking concerned whiskey eyes over the ashen brunette, he was tempted to bring her into the war room with him, still fearful of leaving her side, but he knew her suite was easier defend if worst came to worst. Crushing her to his chest once more, he held her for several moments before releasing her and striding out the door. “You are not to let anyone in without my express approval. If you do, you might live to regret it.”

[Ashita]

Barbara - Thanks as always for your comments and support. It helps on the days when I begin to wonder if I should continue with a story because I can't tell if there is genuine interest. And although I do tend to write for myself to keep my skills honed and because it allows a creative outlet, it's nice to know people are actually enjoying the story. AS for the Rath confrontation. That won't happen in this story as you'll see. It happens after Liz is on the run. I know, I tease.

Kris - Again I'm glad that you're enjoying this story. I'm pretty fond of this Michael and Liz since despite their friendship and feelings they're still in that awkward, still not sure how to deal with each other phase unlike most of my stories where they've accepted it and know how to deal with each other. But damn, they're frustrating me. Just when I think they've broken the barriers down, they get stubborn again.

Whims - Thanks as always for the beta-ing. And I know, I'm being an insufferable tease with this story, as well as the others, but well, blame the characters. They're unusually hard-headed in this universe unlike my others. Which actually kind of makes it fun to work with them because the sparks just fly. And I know, I still owe you a drabble as a future flash for this universe. I haven't forgotten.

AN: So this is the second to last chapter for this story and is a short chapter, but I make up for it in the next one which is longer than the others. Also the last scene will likely look familiar as it was originally written as a drabble (Deny) that I expanded on for the purposes of showing where it fit in the time line and show what was the final factor in Liz leaving. Also, for those that may not recall, Obstojne unosce = Obstinate ass; me elusiu lumia = My elusive fire/flame; Lumia = fiery one.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Who I am from the start
Take me home to my heart
Let me go
And I will run
I will not be silenced


His breath hitched, eyes widening as he felt that first brush of unexpected energy. She had let her shields down for the first time since the Rath scare, its welcoming caress gliding against his skin and stealing his breath. He slid his eyes shut and focused, honing in on that teasing whisper, and knew she was in the bathing chambers; a place he’d have never dreamed of visiting her prior to their falling out, but desperate to smooth the waters between them, he threw caution to the wind.

He had hoped that the perverse bastard’s little astral projection trick might have shaken her enough that she’d finally let him in and they could figure out a way to keep her safe, but he should have known better. The woman could put his stubborn streak to shame. Storming off to the bathing chambers, he was going to put an end to this nonsense now.

Damn the fact that he’d be breaking about ten of his culture’s customs. He’d never cared much for following rules and what good was being king if he couldn’t get away with breaking a few. The council would get ruffled for all of five minutes and then blame it on his being raised in a free society. And if they didn’t, screw them. The rift between him and Liz was their fault in the first place. They could kiss his ass.

He was going to make her listen to him if it was the last thing he did.

Slipping into the room quietly, he stilled and his breath caught in his throat when he spied her lounging in the deep, ground level pool, reminiscent of a Roman bath, only smaller, meant for two people. God, what he’d give to join her in that tub, to be welcomed. Swallowing harshly, he slowly slid his eyes over sleek, golden skin and licked his lips, fire shooting through his blood as he imagined that skin pressed against him, lithe limbs wrapped around his waist.

He bit back a groan, his covetous bourbon gaze continuing its heated perusal of the slender legs perched on the ledge, glistening in the humid air, and the golden swells hidden just below the bubble-laced surface. Eyes closed, her head rested against one of the pillowed sides, hair pinned to the top of her head as she trailed fingers over the steaming surface lazily, her cheeks becomingly flushed and soft pink lips parted. God, she was beautiful.

Shuddering as a bolt of desire raged across his nerves, he toed off his shoes so he could move through the room soundlessly, and shed his robes, leaving the thin sleeveless tunic and lounge pants customary to his people’s dress. Striding across the tiles, he knew the moment she sensed his presence by the subtle tensing of her shoulders, but the hell with it, enough was enough. Shedding his shirt and tossing it to the side, he stood over her, feet planted shoulder width apart, staring down at her, daring her to try and run from him.

“What do you want, Michael?” Liz bit out, tensing as she felt his approach, her eyes flashing as they opened and fixed him with a pointed glare, cocking a brow in challenge. Swallowing thickly as she noticed his lack of dress, her breath stuttered, mouth drying as her eyes slid over his chest, the sweat-kissed, gold-tinged skin rippling with tension.

Shifting uncomfortably, she ripped her eyes away, drawing her legs into the water as he crouched at the edge, skimming the surface of the water tauntingly, and bit back a gasp as one finger slid over her calf. Desperately trying to ignore him, she jolted and her heart thrummed wildly when callused fingers grazed over her knee, drawing her eyes back to him. Heart thudding in his ears, Michael held her gaze, watching her voraciously as his fingers closed over warm, flushed skin.

“You’re a hard woman to track down, Parker,” he commented lazily, cocking his own brow mockingly and smiled wolfishly when she jerked her knee from his grasp, thrilled that he had breached that cool, reserve she’d kept blanketed around her heart.

“Most people would take that as a hint,” she spat, pulling her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her body defensively, and watching him warily, her breath falling in agitated puffs. Blood rushing in her ears, her eyes flared slightly as he slowly crept towards her, inch by inch.

“I’m not most people,” he smirked, sinking to his knees, his hands bracing his weight as he leaned forward, effectively crowding her against the wall unless she wanted to move to the opposite side of the tub. Of course, that would mean he’d get an eyeful of that golden flesh she was intent on concealing, something he could definitely get behind. And in front of and on top of and beneath…hell any way she wanted actually.

“Obviously,” she retorted scornfully, inhaling sharply and flinching back as he lowered himself into the bath water, her breath stilling as he hovered over her prone form, a predatory gleam simmering in the depths of toffee-tinted irises as his hands slid over her legs tauntingly. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she closed her eyes briefly, heat flaring in her womb as his clothed leg nudged against her knees, parting them softly.

Her breath stuttered as he leaned in, her eyelids lifting half-mast and her lips parted, her tongue flitting out to moisten them as she watched warm, full lips descend and she bit back a moan. Warm breaths mingling, he cupped her cheek and settled between her splayed legs, slowly inching in, intent on tasting the pale pink lips that haunted him night after night.

Eyes hooding, he moaned softly as her hot, wet mouth lightly grazed his and struggled for air as he leaned in for a deeper taste, flicking his tongue over the part in her lips. Splaying his hands on back, he tucked her closer to his body and dipped his tongue into the sweet recess of her mouth, shuddering as mint and honey exploded over his palate and he deepened the kiss with deep strokes of his tongue, quickly getting lost in her taste.

Liz gasped at his invasion, something in her heart screaming to complete this dance with him and yet the memory of his words urged her to fight against it at the same time. Crying out, she placed her hands on his chest forcefully, throwing him back and into the bottom of the tub, before hastily climbing out, leaving an irate, spluttering man behind
Scrambling for hold, Michael shoved himself off the tub floor and emerged sputtering and coughing in waist deep water, rivulets of water running over his face and chest, rubbing bubbles out of his eyes as he tossed his hair out his face impatiently.

Spinning around, he growled low in his throat as he watched her slip through the door to her suite of rooms, his ceremonial robe wrapped securely around her body. Picking up the stupid piece of netting that she used to scrub her skin, he threw it across the room with an aggravated grunt and cursed under his breath, shoving his hands through his dripping waves. “Fuck.”


All this time spent in vain
Wasted years
Wasted gain
All is lost
Hope remains
And this war's not over


Crossing her arms over her chest, Liz stared out at the moonlit night, a light fragrant breeze sending molasses waves dancing and she sighed, her heart aching. Tipping her face to the star-laced heavens, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion and she leaned against the low wall of her balcony, praying that tonight she’d get some sleep despite the heavy thoughts weighing on her.

She hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep since the Council’s decree and Michael’s careless words. What had she been thinking to actually imagine that he had wanted her? Oh, she knew he was attracted to her, that couldn’t be denied, but she had hoped that his desire to bond had been more than just a ploy to protect her and keep the Granilith secure.

Cradling her head in her hands, she drew a shaky breath and forced back the hot prickle of tears, swallowing thickly as an unrelenting sense of betrayal choked her throat. Trembling, she couldn’t quite quell a tiny sob and the pain slicing through her heart as she felt him approach her suite. Damn the man, why wouldn’t he leave her in peace?

Wrapping her arms around herself defensively, she dug her nails into her palms and clenched her eyes shut, concentrating fiercely on keeping the thrum of his frustration and hunger from washing over her body. A useless endeavor, as she was far too tired to block their connection as she had been doing for the past three weeks. It took an overwhelming amount of energy to shut him out.

Flinching when she heard an impatient pounding on her door, she was thankful that she had thought to reinforce the opening with her powers, a seal she knew he was hesitant to break despite the desperation she felt radiating off of him.

“You can hide, Liz, but you can’t escape me,” Michael called, frustration lacing his tone as he stopped before her door, setting her nerves further on edge, a shiver running down her spine as she felt a wave of the same emotion flowing through his body. Clenching her fists tighter, she pushed against the unchecked rush of anguish ripping through her heart, uncertain if it came from her or him.

“I’m not hiding,” she grit out, her forehead beading with sweat as she fruitlessly fought the tide of his and her emotions. Gasping when his frustration spiked and obliterated her weakened shields, she walked into her suite searching for a distraction.

“I beg to differ, me elusiu lumia,” Michael continued in a quieter, but no less commanding tone, sensing her proximity. Staring at the door that prevented him from seeing her face, he clenched his fists, itching to break the door down as fatigue, tenderness and unquenched desire raged through his blood.

Flinging a distressed glance at her door, Liz blanched, his endearment cutting through her heart as she sat on her bed heavily, breathing harshly as tenderness and fatigue whispered through their connection. Dropping her head into her hands, she clenched her eyes shut as exhaustion rolled over her body and she softened momentarily, wondering if maybe she’d misinterpreted everything.

Tipping his head to the ceiling when she remained silent, Michael pressed a hand to gritty eyes and prayed for strength, her resistance wearing him down with every passing minute. He didn’t know what to do anymore. An edge of desperation shot through his body as he dropped his gaze back to the cold, wood barrier in front of him and commanded. “You’ve been avoiding me since council. It won’t work, Liz. We will have this conversation.”

“Never,” she choked angrily, her back stiffening as she hurled her words towards the door and shot off of her bed with renewed resolve, pacing back and forth agitatedly, running her hands through her hair roughly. She had to get out of here. She wouldn’t let them force this on her.

“We will,” Michael refuted firmly, the door creaking as he braced his weight on it, splaying his palms against the cool, white wood, and grunting with frustration as a mix of desire, anger and trepidation flowed off her in waves. Leaning his head against the wood, he briefly considered breaking her seal, and stalking in there, tossing her over his shoulder and carting her off to his suite, but refrained, knowing it would cause more harm than good. But, God, he needed her. Missed feeling her presence.

Snapping her head to her door, fear danced over Liz’s nerves and she held her breath as she waited to see if he’d breach her sanctuary. He had never done it before, but then again, she’d never felt him so desperate and determined.

“And if I have to chase you all over the palace, so be it,” he rasped, his shoulders slumping slightly the longer she continued ignore him, his heart aching and chest burning as he tried to drag air into his constricted lungs.

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say,” she spat, breath rushing out when he respected her barriers and stayed on the other side of the door. She inhaled sharply when she felt a flicker of pain and disbelief from him and knew she had hurt him with her thoughts.

“Liar,” he accused tightly, his voice shaking slightly as his own anguish, determination and worry broke through his shields, for once losing the steel grip he held on his emotions. But his loss of control wasn’t what worried her most as she walked towards her door and leaned her head against it, drawn to him despite wanting to fight his pull with everything she had.

What scared her most was that he was right. She desperately wanted to know that she had been wrong about his intentions, but fear kept her away.

“Leave me alone, Michael,” she whispered brokenly, pressing her palms to the wood and drawing in an unsteady breath as his energy washed over her, as it did every time she was this close to him. Closing her eyes, she stopped fighting his pull and sagged helplessly against the door, reveling in his strength for the last time.

“Never,” he rasped hoarsely, throwing her words back at her, his hands heating as he felt the gentle hum of her energy, their hands matching up instinctually on each side of the door, and closed his eyes as that soothing warmth flowed over his body. God, baby, please let me in.

She could almost see him there on the other side of the door in a similar stance, could sense it through this weird bond they’d inherited once she tapped into the power of the Granilith. She had to do it. It was best for everyone involved.

“Why must you be so stubborn?” she cried, fisting her hands and striking at the door with frustration, her heart shattering as it became obvious the obstinate man wasn’t going to give up. She wasn’t going to be another of his sacrifices. “Obstojne unosce.”

“Fight it all you want, Lumia,” he retorted darkly, chuckling mirthlessly at the accuracy of her muttered words and ignoring the stab of pain in his heart as he pushed away from the door, his hands scraping against the wood, vowing as he walked away. “But you will be mine.”

[Ashita]

Kris - Liz will eventually open up to Michael (Actually they'll fight and that's when things all come out) but it will be a while in coming. I'm afraid that this Liz and Michael are being very stubborn in terms of them accepting the other and are driving me crazy.

Whims - Yeah, these two break my heart a lot in this story and well, they will continue to be at odds for a bit yet. This particular Michael kinda fumbles things a bit and both have a hard time opening up because of circumstances they have lived through. But we'll get there yet. Thanks as always for the beta work and all your comments (here and in e-mail). You rock!

Barbara - This Liz and Michael are probably the ones I enjoy the most. I like all my universes and each have a place in my heart, but I like the dynamics of this set as they muddle through their feelings for each other and everything that has happened to them. Michael will be destroyed, but at the same time, he's not willing to give up because he has felt her feelings through the bond and that gives him hope. Not to worry, she won't get far.

AN1: So yes, this is the last chapter and it's not likely the ending you're hoping for. Remember this is only the beginning of the series and in no way the end of Michael and Liz's story. We still have several more to work through. Also, this is a good time to point out that this series won't unfold chronologically but will skip around in time to various events and each coupling, as well as the three characters of the triangle, will each have their say before we get to the story. I know. I suck...leaving you hanging that way. I do recommend that you read the other stories even if you don't care for the coupling as each adds a layer to the series. Next up will be a one-shot called Stand By You, which is a Tess POV centered around a Tess/Max pairing. I'll post that with in two-three weeks.

AN2: Segartris = The official title of a Granilith priestess; priests are called Segart. Priests and priestesses of the Granilith are regarded as equal to royalty no matter the station of their birth. Cailin = little girl. The deflector is the little device that Brody used that binds powers.

AN3: It’s also important to note that while this universe takes off after End of the World, it is an Alternative Universe, which means elements before that time will be changed. For this chapter, it’s important to point out there is no such thing as the Skins in this universe. The characters are still in place but the environment is not detrimental for them and some are hybrids like the pod squad. I’ll go deeper into the reason behind this in later stories.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


There's a light
There's the sun
Taking all the shattered ones
To the place we belong
And his love will conquer


A wondrous smile on her face, Liz cuddled the small pink bundle to her, cradling the infant in her arms as she waltzed around her friend’s room with her face pressed against Eliissa’s neck, her baby powder and milk scent teasing her nose. Humming slightly off-key as she soothed the girl’s snuffling whimpers, she looked up at Courtney and her grin broadened as her namesake stretched, emitting a large yawn before smacking her lips sleepily.

“You’re so lucky,” she whispered wistfully as the baby snuggled into her chest, laughing softly when she began rooting around for her lunch. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, she walked over to her friend and reluctantly relinquished the infant to her mother, grinning when the little one gave a whimper of discontent. “Sorry, cailin, but I can’t help you with that.”

“You’ll know what it’s like some day,” Courtney replied, giving her an exhausted smile as she unabashedly placed the infant to her breast to suckle and patted the bed next to her, inviting Liz to sit down. Liz sat down heavily, her lip clenched between her teeth as she stared off into space and murmured noncommittally at the blonde’s words, her stomach tightening sickly.

Now that she was here, she wasn’t exactly sure if she should or how to proceed with her plan. She had purposely picked today, knowing there was going to be a long, drawn out Council meeting on fortifying their shields as well as the plans for her and Michael’s bonding. She knew that if she actually intended to get away, she had to do it now, before Michael took further security measures to keep Rath out and effectively trapped her inside the citadel.

She knew going out on her own was dangerous, but she couldn’t stay and let them force her into a union with Michael. It wasn’t fair to either of them.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at her friend, smiling weakly when she noticed her blue eyes filling with concern the longer Liz remained silent. She felt bad using her friend’s joyous occasion this way, but it was the only way for her to sneak off undetected. For once, the archaic rules and viewpoints of the Council would work in her favor since women were secluded for the first two weeks after they give birth.

Of course, there were a couple of guards nearby, but it wasn’t crawling with security like the other parts of the encampment. It actually made her chuckle to use their own prejudices and superstitions against them. Served them right. But it was unfair of her to use Courtney like this, even if she knew the blonde would support her, if not completely understand her actions. It didn’t make sense to the other woman that Liz would fight a union she had wanted before the Council made their dictate.

But that was when she had a choice.

“I’m leaving,” she stated softly, staring blankly out the window as she toyed with the comforter, her lips pressed into a firm line as she nervously tugged at her hair, pulling it into a ponytail as she shed the formal robe that hid her sparring clothes. She hid them under her robe because women never wore pants at court, preferring the long flowing dresses that were popular on Antar, but that would hinder her movements.

“Liz…” Courtney chided gently, sighing when the petite brunette sent her a quelling look. She had feared something to this effect when Davin had filled her in on the Council’s decree and both Liz’s and Michael’s reaction to the news. She loved her friend dearly, but she was far too stubborn and blind for her own good.

“I have to. I can’t…” Liz whispered almost inaudibly, climbing off the bed and walking over to stand by the window, staring out at the landscape as she calculated her best bet at breaching the shield. She knew as soon as she moved through, the alarm will kick off, but between her new found powers and the mind warping, she should be able to make it through without too much trouble. Tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, she turned her head to Courtney and gave her a sad smile. “I won’t let him sacrifice his happiness just to save me yet again.”

“What makes you think it’s a sacrifice?” Courtney asked softly, pulling the suckling babe away from her breast and after covering herself, laid her on her shoulder to burp her before continuing her feeding and laying her down for her nap. Watching the pretty woman that held their commander’s heart, she ached for them both, knowing their stubbornness was to blame for so many of their problems. If only they’d open up. “He could want this.”

“He said he wants to protect me,” Liz scoffed bitterly, pain briefly flashing through coffee-colored eyes before she turned back to the window, watching the grounds carefully. It’d probably be best that she slip through the North C section. There was a checkpoint not too far from there and less guards given the rough terrain. “That he didn’t want to do it but he wouldn’t let Rath take me.”

“You know how he is with words,” Courtney placated, shaking her head at Michael’s obstinacy and what she knew was his fumbling way with explanations, especially when it revolved around intense emotions. That part of Rath hadn’t changed all that much, he’d always been more demonstrative rather than relying on pretty words. Unfortunately, given his childhood, Michael was even more closed off than his former incarnation. “And I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Oh, I know he wants me,” she muttered brokenly, her heart aching as she remembered his words the previous night and the anguish in his voice. She was so confused. Chewing on her lip, she rolled his words around in her head and couldn’t understand why he was being so stubborn about this. Why he was so determined to follow the Council’s dictate on this matter when he was content to buck the system every other time, especially given Maria’s forced bonding. All she could fathom was that it was his way of protecting her and he figured better to be bonded to the devil you knew. “Can’t help but feel that. But love…”

She dropped her head in her hand, her brain aching as it warred with her heart. The way he held her after Rath’s scare tactics, his arms had felt like home. It felt like everything she’d been desperately seeking all her life. And the passion in his words when he vowed to make her his mate made her heart pound and breath hitch, and for one small moment she’d nearly opened the door. But how did one judge? Michael was passionate about everything he believed in and passion did not equate love.

“I think he does,” the blonde pointed out gently, hoping to forestall her friend’s actions and force her to reconsider leaving the compound, as well as pointing out what everyone else could see so easily. Sighing when she saw the stubborn set of Liz’s jaw and disbelief shimmering in her eyes, she knew her two best friends had a long road ahead of them. At least she could take comfort in the fact that Michael wouldn’t let her go and would hunt her down, dragging her back kicking and screaming if he had to.

“He hasn’t said anything…” she began, trailing off when Courtney snorted and interrupted, fixing her with a ‘are you kidding me’ look.

“Oh come on, this is Michael,” Courtney scoffed, shooting Liz a look that said she should know better than to even try that excuse. If she wanted to deny her feelings and blind herself to Michael’s, fine. She couldn’t force the woman to see what was so obvious to the entire citadel if she wasn’t ready to embrace it, but to use that as an excuse…if she wasn’t so damn tired from the baby, she’d smack some sense into her friend. “When does he ever share his feelings with anyone?”

“Point taken,” she said, laughing shakily and stared at her toes for a moment, sucking on her bottom lip as she thought about it, heart fluttering at the idea that Michael really did care more than he let on. But every time she did, the taunting echo of Calais’s words and Michael’s fumbling explanations came crashing back, ripping at her heart once more. Closing her eyes, she fought back the tears threatening to spill over and her body shook with a watery sigh. This was for the best. Maybe with her out of the way, he’d focus on living his own life rather than watching over her all the time.

“But you’re still leaving,” Courtney sighed as she shook her head in disapproval, but realizing there was little she could do. If she told Michael, he would lock Liz away and Liz would hate her for her betrayal, if she could even get word to the King while in her seclusion. But if he knew she hadn’t stopped Liz from leaving, Michael was going to be furious and only his friendship with Davin would keep her safe. This officially sucked.

“I can’t…I won’t do it,” Liz rasped heatedly, clenching her fists as she spun around, her control breaking and a couple of tears sliding over her cheeks as she faced her friend, brow pinched. Heart aching, she pulled the small pack with a change of clothes and some rations out the bag of presents she’d brought for the new baby and quickly strapped it on, along with the short blade Michael had given her.

“I think you’re making a mistake, but you do what you have to,” Courtney sighed again, running a hand through her tangled blond hair as she watched Liz ready herself for her flight. She had a bad feeling about this and was glad she was in seclusion for another week. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Michael when he found out. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Liz whispered, walking over to hug her friend one last time and rubbed the baby’s soft, silky cheek, smiling sadly as Eliissa yawned again, smacking her little bow-shaped mouth before sinking into sleep. Clearing the constriction in her throat, she continued haltingly. “Take care of my namesake. And…watch over Michael for me.”

“Of course,” the blonde affirmed heartily, skeptical that she’d have the opportunity to do the latter. She had no doubt that after he found out she’d left, Michael was going to give chase. “You better go. The sooner you leave, the more time you have before they notice your absence.”

“The Granilith bless you,” Liz murmured, marking a seal of blessing on her friends brow as well as the baby’s before turning to grab the jacket she’d ‘borrowed’ from Davin and stared at the scene before her once more, taking in the happy family. A flicker of pain and envy flashed through her heart as she wondered what it’d be like to be the one lying in that bed, holding a child she’d created with the man she loved. Taking a deep breath, she shoved that thought away and nodded to the blonde. “Until we meet again”

“And you,” Courtney returned quietly, her eyes misting at the obvious misery in her friend’s eyes, leaning her head against the headboard in resignation as she watched the petite brunette climb out of her window and stealthily make her way up the ochre rocks.

Keeping her eyes on the terrain in front of her, Liz carefully masked her presence, projecting her energy back in the room with Courtney while maintaining a light mind warp so the guards ahead of her wouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It was a skill she’d been practicing the past few weeks while avoiding Michael. Not on Michael himself, because their bond would have alerted him to her presence, but the guards were less suspecting.

In fact, the very guards that stood ahead of her now couldn’t even pick up her signature when she’d been standing right in front of them. Another reason she chose this particular location. Devious, but the war had taught her that sometimes you had to be ruthless in order to protect yourself.

Slipping past the guards, she shielded herself, a faint trickle of fear skittering over her nerves as she braced herself for the electric shock of passing through the wards. Feeling the familiar thrum of the Granilith in her head, she took a deep breath, and heart pounding in her ears, she slid through the camp shields, only breathing easy when the inevitable shock failed to register. She couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she had the Granilith’s blessing in this venture.

Shaking off the thought, she froze when she heard one of the guard’s communicators crackle and a voice came over it, reporting a breach in their location. Holding her breath, she stood stock still as the guard looked straight at her and paused, but let it out slowly when she saw the blank expression on his face before he told the base he didn’t see anything, but that they’d grab a deflector and investigate the area as they walked to their station.

Muscles relaxing slightly, she breathed easier, but knew she was far from in the clear and that she still had to make it to the checkpoint and get the jeep. She wouldn’t feel safe until she was on her way. Closing her eyes, she squared her shoulders, tightening her hold on her pack and jacket before opening shimmering dark eyes and focused on a window in the distance. She knew Michael was in the Council chambers right now.

Unable to resist, she dropped her shield momentarily and opened their connection, shuddering when his warm, passionate red power flowed over her shot nerves, soothing them and renewing her strength. Sending an answering trickle of power over his nerves, she gasped when the energies blended momentarily, greeting each other like long lost lovers and she felt him falter in his heated argument with Calais, taking a deep breath as shock resounded through his body.

‘Liz?’ she heard him whisper hesitantly, reaching out for her energy, his mind whirling with a million thoughts before she stroked his nerves one last time and then closed him off regretfully, inhaling sharply as she turned away, quickly heading over the pass and whispering to herself, “I love you.”

~*~


Michael staggered slightly as his and Liz’s connection flared open and he felt the cool kiss of her powers washing over his senses, calming the rage rising in his chest as he faced the Council. It was so unexpected, that it took him a moment to regain his composure, causing him to falter in his heated discussion with Calais and giving the councilman the impression that Michael was weakening in his resolve.

Closing his eyes, his heart sped up and his breath quickened as their energies collided and wrapped around each other, rubbing over each other like cats. Oh God, it was so good to feel her like this, to have her power raining over him soothingly. But at the same time he couldn’t help but worry, wondering if her shielding had finally exhausted her to the point that she couldn’t defend herself.

Reaching out to her, he caressed her softly, nearly purring when her energy brushed gently against his. He inhaled sharply and, although reluctant to bring attention to the open bond, but fearing something was wrong, called out hesitantly, ‘Liz?’

Shuddering when she answered by sending another soft caress over his senses, he grunted when she quickly closed it down tightly and sighed, running a hand through his hair. Soon. Soon, he’d have this solved and could show her that he’d never been party to this mad scheme. Turning back to Calais, he squared his shoulders, regarding the man coldly, and had to thank Davin and Jarid for pointing him in the right direction.

“You don’t have a choice,” Calais began once more, using Michael’s momentary distraction to try asserting his power again, bringing the tawny-haired man’s icy eyes back to him and shrugging as he continued, never realizing this whole meeting had been a set up. “Our laws…”

“Our laws or your laws?” Michael grated impatiently, turning his mind back to the task at hand and shelving Liz’s momentary lapse for later. Like when he told her he had an out for their predicament that was flawless and fool proof. And maybe finally showing her what she meant to him, since words always seemed to get him in trouble.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Calais tossed back coolly, shifting uncomfortably when Michael pinned him with a sly smile and walked back towards his table confidently, wondering what the man had up his sleeve.

“You don’t?” Michael mocked, cocking his brow as he turned back to the Council tables with a familiar book in his hands, holding it up in the air before making a show of thumbing through the pages before finding his place. Fixing a fiery gaze on Calais, he felt a thrum of satisfaction when the other man started to look a little queasy. “Oh well, then let me give you a refresher course on our laws.”

Walking to the front of the room with a casual gait that belied the anger thrumming through his blood, Michael stood directly in front of the head councilman, his lips thinning, voice tight as he recited from the book of Antarian law.

“Bylaw 235, section 14, article 22, bonding rituals in regard to Segartris’a – well this is a load of political babble, so let me paraphrase. Due to their sacred office and link to the Granilith, the highest order of our people, a Segartis is above the marriage code and cannot be forced to bond against her will.”

Slamming the open book down on the table in front of Calais, he shot the entire table an infuriated glare before turning back to his nemesis, smirking as he saw the man’s throat convulse as perspiration broke out over his forehead. Leaving the book in place, he turned and strode back to his table, grabbing another thick volume.

“Not enough for you?” He continued angrily, stalking back to the councilmen, opening a thick, leather-bound book to his desired page and speaking once more. “According to the writings of the Granilith, our sacred text the Valistus, again I’ll paraphrase: A Segartis is a priestess of the holy order and is given immunity above common law as she is held to a higher order. While she can choose to bond if she wishes, it is not required and she can choose to remain in the order’s service indefinitely.”

Cocking his brow at the men shifting uncomfortably at the table, he watched each of their faces, trying to discern their thoughts and fought back the cold anger that had overtaken him when he had read those texts. He had known deep in his gut something was afoot, that them ordering Liz to bond struck a chord in him and felt wrong, but he had never dreamed that they’d blatantly lie about something so easily refuted. It cemented his thoughts that something more was going on behind the scenes and he couldn’t help but wonder what else they lied about.

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out?” Michael asked in a low, dangerous growl, slamming the book on the table in front of Calais, his palm pressed to the cream-colored pages as he flicked a scathing gaze over the older man; his lips compressing as he stared him down, waiting for an explanation. Not that he expected the bastard to admit to betrayal, but he wanted it in the open that he was onto the man. Drawing lines in the sand, so to speak. “Nothing to say Calais?”

Waiting a few beats, he pulled back and walked to the middle of the room before addressing them once more. “Given the information I have acquired, I hereby rescind your decree that Segartis Elizabeth of Earth, daughter of the House of Parker, bonds, and rule that she is free of future such dictates unless handed down by the Granilith herself.”

“You can’t…” Calais began, trailing off when Michael turned a hawk-like gaze on him, daring him to refuse, to give him the ammunition he needed to have him removed, not only as head of the board, but from his seat entirely. But Calais was far too shrewd for that and wisely shut up. Not that Michael was worried; he’d have the man disbarred soon enough with the intelligence they were gathering against him.

“I can’t? Watch me,” Michael smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he regard the Council with contempt, his eyes taking in each and every one of their reactions to his next words. “The Council may have gotten used to ruling in our stead, but that stops as of now. Hence forth you are relegated back to your advisory roles and while I’ll take your words into consideration, my word is law.”

As he figured, Calais and his two henchmen’s faces soured immediately before blanking while Rais grinned with approval. Good to know whom he could count on. Turning on his heel, Michael hummed with satisfaction as he strode to the door and couldn’t wait to find Liz so he could give her the news, throwing his parting shot over his shoulder as he hit the door. “I’ll leave those with you, so you can reacquaint yourself with our laws.”

Pushing through the French, double doors, Michael strode down the halls to the war room to fill Davin in and thank the man for his help in tracking down the appropriate books for him to reference. Stopping in his tracks as he recalled Liz’s earlier actions, he smiled victoriously and a warm wave of hope ran through him as he changed his course, turning towards the sunroom. He could fill Davin in later. Right now, he needed to tell her about the Council meeting and reassure her that she had no need to worry about the Council any longer.

“Your Majesty,” Varik called out breathlessly, hurrying down the hall to catch up with his commander, his face strained as Michael turned around and halted. Michael stared at the elite guardsman’s tense, nervous façade and his stomach sank, a cold trickle of fear sliding over his spine as he waited for the man to spit out his news. “Lady…Lady Elizabeth has fled. I was taking a smoke break and she…I saw her slip through the shields…as if they weren’t even there…”

“When was this?” Michael interrupted brusquely, heart plummeting as he turned around, stalking to the war room, his long, agitated strides eating up the ground swiftly. His mind whirled, heart pounding as the reason for Liz dropping her shields suddenly made sense and his stomach swirled sickly, panic sluicing through his blood as the situation crashed over him.

She had been saying goodbye. Damn her.

“Ten minutes ago,” the shorter man replied, almost running to keep up with the agitated man beside him, his breath labored from his run through the palace from the woman’s quarters to the war room and then to Council chamber. “We contacted the north checkpoint…we missed her. She took one of the jeeps. She must have mindwarped the guards.”

“And you’re just telling me now?” Michael grated, turning on the man, his hands clenched and jaw ticking with suppressed rage, glaring at the cringing man incredulously, completely aghast that he hadn’t been informed immediately, Council meeting or not. Shoving his hands through his hair, he reeled and cursing under his breath took off at a faster pace for the war room. “What was her last status when you left?”

“Sh-she had hit the N-north end of quadrant D when I left,” the man stammered as he followed Michael strode into the chamber, grabbing out a map of the Citadel and spread it over a nearby table impatiently, quickly locating the indicated quadrant.

“What was her exact location?” he growled, bracing his hands on the table, whipping his head up as Davin hurried into the room and joined him at the table, grabbing a pencil and ruler on his way. Meeting Davin’s worried gray eyes, he cursed once more when the man shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Turning back to the guard, he waited impatiently as he checked in with various points, each reporting that they had seen a jeep with a couple of guards, precious minutes ticking by as they called in.

Davin checked them off one by one on the map in front of them, swallowing harshly as he and Michael studied the map and realized that she was beyond the stronghold and in the open, having passed through their check points flawlessly. Meeting each others eyes again, fear flashed briefly through whiskey irises before they hardened, replaced with a helpless rage. Shoving away from the table, Michael stalked over to the window, resting his hands against the wooden frame, his back coiled and tense, like a rattler preparing to attack.

“Damn it! I knew this would happen!” he cursed, slamming his fist against the wall before bowing his head and bracing his weight against the windowsill, drawing a deep, ragged breath into his constricted lungs. Resting his head against the cool, smooth glass, he stared into the dwindling twilight blankly and closed his eyes in defeat, his heart clenching as if someone had shoved their fingers in and crushed it.

“Stubborn, pain in the ass woman,” he muttered under his breath, unaware that he thought aloud and he sighed, cradling his head in his hands as he tried to rein the icy panic racing through his blood, icing his heart, a numbing chill settling into the pit of his stomach. When he got his hands on her he was going to throttle her…and then hold her, kiss her, love her, until she never thought of leaving him again.

“I’m sure we’ll catch up to her,” Davin replied quietly, watching his tense, stoic friend finally break, and searching for something more to say to reassure his King that she would be all right, that she’d return safely. But he wasn’t one to lie and that would be too close to one since he had no idea what was going to happen.

Rubbing his hand over his face wearily, Michael bit back a groan and oath; if only she had waited a few more minutes she would have learned …well that was neither here nor there. The point was, she was gone and they needed to find her.

“No you won’t,” Michael replied quietly, a derisive chuckle bubbling out of his throat as he turned to face his second, meeting the man’s equally frustrated gaze before noticing that Jarid had joined the fray when he’d been distracted. Grimacing, he tipped his head back, resting it against the wall as he stared at the ceiling. This was the last thing he needed, words of wisdom, or worse, concern from the Council toady and grunted, realizing that her defection was his own fault. “I trained her too well.”

“What are you going to do?” Jarid asked, watching his brother with a small measure of trepidation and wariness, having the sinking feeling he already knew what he had planned, especially when he ignored his question. The Rath he’d known back on Antar would not be content to let anyone other than himself handle such a delicate situation. “Rath, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going after her,” Michael stated tightly, lowering his head and fixed his brother with a hot, challenging look, daring him to try and talk him out of this, aching for a fight to work through the fear and anger simmering in his blood. Smirking when Jarid looked away, he pushed off the wall and walked over to his desk, pulling a pack out of a cupboard, searching the contents as he prepared for his journey.

“But, Your Majesty, we have people…” Davin began, quickly biting off his comments as Michael lifted his head and sent him a steely, determined glance. He knew that look all to well, and while it made him unhappy that Michael was going to be out in the open, he knew nothing would stop the man short of imprisonment. And he doubted even that would contain him.

“No,” Michael refuted firmly, turning back to the cabinet to grab his combat clothes as well as several of his weapons. He had no idea what would happen out there, but better to be safe than sorry, especially if Rath caught wind of her defection. Pressing his hands against the desk, his breath stuttered and his stomach clenched, roiling sickly at the thought that Rath might even know be tracking her. Closing his eyes, he swayed slightly, taking in several deep breaths to quell the rising fear and anguish.

He couldn’t fall apart right now. Focus Michael; find her first and then you can do whatever you want after she’s safe and back in your arms. Strengthening his resolve he squared his body and continued his systematic inspection and compiling of his supplies.

“Rath, you’re King. They’re not going to allow…” Jarid argued, quieting as Michael stilled in his movements and glared at him, his mouth compressing into a thin line. Jarid swallowed thickly at the fury and accusation that burned brightly in his brother’s eyes, and wisely refrained from saying anything more that would incite his temper. He knew that Michael blamed this entire episode on him and the Council.

“I’m not asking you, or them, or anyone,” Michael replied in a low, dangerous tone, his voice controlled and icy as he regarded his brother, his implacable expression brooking no further arguments from the man. Flicking an impatient glance at the others, he resumed his jerky, agitated packing. “I am telling you, I’m going after her.”

“They won’t be happy,” Davin felt the need to point out, despite knowing full well that Michael wouldn’t give a damn if the Council approved of his actions or not. But he did worry what might happen in his absence given his actions today and everything they’d found out over the past three weeks. He’d have to be extra vigilant in Michael’s absence.

“They can bite me,” Michael spat, still fuming over the meeting and the Council’s machinations that had brought him and Liz to this point. As soon as he got back, that was one more thing that was going to change. Having boned up on the Antarian laws over the past few days, he knew exactly what he needed to do to unseat not only Calais, but Pyralis and Arius as well. And he couldn’t wait to see their faces when he told them.

“Rath, I don’t think…” Jarid stammered faintly, but trailed off when he couldn’t really think of anything to say that would stop his brother’s heedless trek. Although, he couldn’t really blame the man, if the woman he loved were running around in the open with a known assassin on her trail, he’d do anything to assure her safety.

“I really don’t care what you think,” Michael bit out contemptuously, whipping his head around to fix Jarid with cold derision and clenching his crackling hands into fists to keep from losing control of his spiking powers, his body rippling with tension. Averting his eyes, he inhaled deeply before turning back to the men in front of him, his body still humming with energy but more in control. “You and those jackals have done enough damage. So if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish my preparations.”

Turning his back on them for the final time, he didn’t even acknowledge their departure as he stuffed everything in his pack and grabbed his combat clothing, changing quickly before slinging the pack over his shoulder. Looking out the window, he scanned the cooling desert evening and opened their connection enough to send her a message, feeling her jolt of surprise when he broke through. ‘I will find you, Lumia. You can’t hide from me forever.’


And his love will conquer
And his love will conquer all

Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding
Fall into your sunlight

~ Shattered, Trading Yesterday