Declan:
He kissed her until the tension left her body, and the doubts she felt earlier released her. It was like that first time, when the world outside faded to dull insignificance, and all that mattered were the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, safe in their bubble.
Declan didn’t understand what it was he felt the first time they had sex, but he understood it now. It was the completion of the bond. He could feel it as he pushed inside her. The way the bond united them, how it knitted them together, tying her soul to his and his to hers. The two halves becoming one. And it was stronger now than before. Much stronger.
As she opened up under him, giving herself to him so completely that he didn’t even know where she began and he ended, he knew that this was forever. He would never, could never, break their bond. When her eyes filled with tears, and he felt the burden she had been carrying around lift from her shoulders
The old man sat on his balcony, looking at the beach bathed in the soft blue moonlight. It was a beautiful night, but a full moon, which meant all manner of creatures were about. Ever since that blasted vampire war fifty years ago, all sorts had been crawling out of the darkness, wouldn’t you know? It didn’t matter how many times that vampire, Rowan Watchamacallit, went on the news and every talk show known to man, just to keep telling the humans that they had nothing to fear, he knew better. He was old enough to remember that war, remembered the roving vampires that came through his town and tore his wife’s throat out. He didn’t forget and forgive that easily. The humans hadn’t been idle. They had been developing weapons that were strong enough to kill vampires. He had one. A gun that could take a vampire’s head off with one shot. It wasn’t technically speaking legal to kill vampires, but their bodies evaporated fairly quickly once the sun hit it, and no body, no ev
Dear readers, I would like to thank you for taking the time to read Declan and Aster's story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you for your support and love. It means the world to me, and I hope to see you all soon with the next one. Please feel free to leave a comment if you liked this story. I always love hearing from my readers. Remember: All writers love their readers, we would be nothing without you -- you are the engine that makes a writer's world go 'round. Much love, Celice
Declan “No,” Declan said. “You made me a promise all those years ago. You can’t ask me to do that. Ask Samuel…or Matthew. I can’t…no…never.” “They already have several brides between them – Edward Montgomery doesn’t want his daughter to…share.” “Joel then.” “Joel? You are joking right?” Declan shrugged. He was angry, trapped, and a like a caged animal he’d do anything to get out. “The bond is strong enough to override his sexuality – it’ll be fine.” “Don’t be so damn stupid,” Rowan said. “Why would you do that to him? To the poor girl? Eventually, she won’t be enough.” He deflated – his father was right. It would be unconscionable to force Joel into a union with a woman, and the poor woman would be miserable … it would be an awful existence for the both of them. Declan grabbed an expensive crystal goblet from Rowan’s ornate oak desk, and sipped on the exquisite cognac, trying to calm his nerves, but his
Declan: Declan stood in a dark corner, watching the sleeping girl on the bed. Every breath was a struggle, and he could smell death’s approach. She wasn’t long for this world, and it was clear that even in her sleep, she couldn’t fully escape the illness that ravaged her. Quietly, he glided out of his hiding place, and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. It was difficult connecting with a dying mind. Sometimes they were filled with anger and fear, more often with peace – but all of them were difficult. He had to try though – had to see how far gone she was. It would be easier talking to her in her dreams, where people tended to let their barriers come down and showed their true selves. Very gently, so as not to disturb or cause her pain, Declan took the girl’s hand in his. Her mind was quiet, almost blank, then suddenly the darkness broke open, and bright light flooded in. They were in a sunny meadow. Flowers of all types and colours cove
Aster Her eyes fluttered open. Something had woken her up, but she didn’t know what. It was too painful to move, but she listened intently. Nothing. Not even a cricket chirping on her windowsill. It was almost as if the night held its breath, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. The room was dark, but a thin sliver of light shone in through the gaps in the curtains – enough to cast the room in a hazy blue glow. Despite the non-stop aching, throbbing, and stabbing she tried to push herself upright so she could get a better look around the room. Gasping loudly as sharp hammers of pain shot through her arms, she gave up and fell backwards. “Stop,” a man whispered somewhere in the dark. “You’ll hurt yourself.” Every muscle in her body tensed, sending shockwaves of pain up and own her nerves. “Who…who’s there?” she asked in a shaky voice. The man didn’t answer, but she heard him come towards her and could see h
Declan: “Stop screaming,” he said as he tried to hold on to the fighting girl in his arms without hurting her. He realised his mistake the minute he picked her up. He really should have taken an extra minute just to let her know he was coming for her, but his nerves got the better of him and he grabbed her before he could change his mind and run away. Aster kept going. He didn’t know it was possible for one, frail, sickly girl to bellow so loudly. “Jesus Christ, will you stop?” Gently, he lowered her to the floor, and she abruptly stopped hollering. At the same time, her legs gave way, and she crashed to the floor. Declan caught her just before she cracked her head on the hardwood. “Why? What?” she asked, looking confused. “I’m sorry,” he said, and helped her to her feet. “I should have warned you.” “It’s okay,” she said, but he could hear the fear in her voice. “It’s me – I’m so high strung.” God help him, he liked her. Every
Aster: Aster sat in the recliner where her gaggle of nurses had taken turns spending the night over the past nine months and watched Declan sleep. He lay where he fell, legs dangling off the bed. She tried to move him on the bed, but it was impossible to shift the solid block of a man. All she could do was cover him with a blanket and hope he was comfortable. Earlier, she had snuck through the empty mansion to the kitchen. She was hungry in a way she hadn’t been for months. The last few weeks were especially bad, and eating had become mostly mechanical – and since everything she ate tasted like dust, everyone had to force her to eat. Now she sat with a tray of food next to her – mostly items that were ‘grab and run’ food, as her father called it: cheese, fruit, crackers, cold cuts. Everything tasted delicious, and she had to stop herself from tearing into the food like an animal. The mansion was quiet and empty. Presumably, her father
Declan: Declan struggled to open his eyes. It was daytime, and the light stabbed him like millions of tiny needles, burrowing under his skin. Something, someone, repeatedly punched him in the chest though he barely felt the blows, and somewhere, far away, he heard a girl screaming and crying incoherently. It took his foggy mind several minutes to register where he was. He tried to force his eyes open. Being awake during the day was difficult. Painful. He didn’t want to do it, but Aster was in full-blown panic mode; and why wouldn’t she be? She thought he was dead. Summoning all his strength, Declan somehow managed to open his eyes, and struggled upright. The room was too bright, and the whole place looked like it was hazed in a mist of red. “Aster,” he said, but the word came out as a barely audible croak. He tried again, but she was so frantic that she didn’t hear him. Groaning loudly, he willed his muscles to move. Somehow, he manag