Mirxalyn maintained a neutral expression, her gaze fixed on me. When my curious frown made it clear I wasn't ready to drop the conversation, she relented. "It's for both our safety—mostly yours. When a Knightrose's mate overheats, thorns and flames spread, covering not just your body but everything you touch. If it escalates, it can drive you to madness. When that happens, we have to lock ourselves away and make love until it passes." Her gaze searched mine, as if trying to read my thoughts. Then she added softly, "But since neither of us is quite ready for that yet, the Half-Mark works as a safeguard."
I blushed, relieved she understood that neither of us was ready to make love—not yet, at least. Then I wondered about the Half-Mark's effectiveness between mates. "How does it last?"
"It depends on how deep the bond is." She answered carefully.
"And ours? How deep do you think our bond already is?" I wondered, meeting her eyes, searching for an answer.
"To me, it's deeper than you think." She answered honestly before asking me the same, "And to you, how deep is it?"
Without preamble, I replied honestly, "Worse."
"Then be ready for some intimate gestures." I gasped as she leaned closer, planting feather-light kisses from my temple down to my jaw. She paused at my neck, pulling away just enough to whisper, "It won't be long before we'll do it..." Her voice was hoarse, deep, raw—sending shivers through me. When she kissed my neck again, a soft whimper escaped my lips. She met my eyes, desire and restraint flickering within them. "I've got you. So, what's it to be—Half-Mark or full?"
I am speechless, wanting to argue, but the heat that she was talking about was escalating, making me tremble, and my breathing went shallow like I was having an attack again. Mirxalyn noticed and didn't hesitate to place her kiss gently over my head. It was calming, but I still felt hot. It was getting too much to handle, making me cry.
"Fine, just make it stop." With gritted teeth, I gave up, demanding, pleading as the heat kept spreading out of control. Then I panted, saying, "I can't take the heat…it's getting too much…"
"Choose. Say it. I've got you." she murmured, resting her forehead against mine as her hands gently cupped my face, brushing away my tears.
"For now, Half-Mark." I hissed, controlling the surge of heat increasing in my body, before adding reasons, "I don't want to do it here, and not because I am in heat."
Mirxalyn snickered a little. "Then come here." Softly, she said, pulling me closer. I let my body press against hers and let her kisses take my breath away again. Then she hoarsely whispered to my ears, "Come to me and let me hold you."
Like a twig snapping under strain, something inside me broke loose. I pushed her away for a moment, then instinctively straddled her lap, my arms wrapping tightly around her neck. Tears spilled down as I pleaded, "Help me, please...Mirxa...honey...please, I need you now..." I had never heard myself plead like this before or to cling to someone's arms like this. But with her, my Mirxalyn, I don't give a damn care about it anymore. "Hurry, it's...burning..."
"Bernila, baby, listen." She gently whispered, holding my face between her palms, making me look deeply into her bloody mauve eyes, drawing me in before continuing, "Calm down. Move in flow. Feel me, not the flame."
It was easier said than done. But the way she looked at me with her rarest gentleness, the way she held me with care and security, I shivered. I was about to give in when the memory of my earlier encounter stopped me.
I began trembling, praying, "Oh please no...not again...not now..."
I was crying for a different reason, breaking in my wife's arms. But instead of asking, she grounded me by embracing me, murmuring with conviction and care. "I'm here. Nothing to fear."
"Sorry, it's just..." I apologized, crying badly before weakly admitting what frightened me. "...my past...it's haunting again..."
Mirxalyn cupped my face, wiping my tears away before she asked carefully, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, but two of them were here...I just..." I cried, frightened and shaking badly as I straddled her lap. Then I met her eyes, pleading, hoping, "...Mirxa...please, hold me. Don't let go."
Her eyes became dark and dangerous as she pulled me into her arms. Then with firm conviction, she vowed. "Never. I won't let you go even if it costs me my life."
She held me protectively, cradling me gently like a child in her arms. I sensed her anger at what I'd endured, but more than that, her determination to soothe me. She kissed my temple, awakening my rose thorn mark—a warmth that eased my mind and washed away the darkness. Slowly, my tears dried, my chaotic thoughts quieted, and my body relaxed completely in her embrace.
"Are you good?" Her voice was too gentle, making me smile. I nodded. Then she kissed my forehead tenderly, giving assurance before saying, "Good, but your heat isn't."
I was resting in her arms, and with fragility in my tone, I asked. "Will you still mark me?"
"Always." She replied without hesitation.
I'm still scared and shaken, but her hold was enough to divert my attention from it. I pulled away to study her face, and what I saw was the same wife I married. Mirxalyn stayed the same despite how I broke down before her. Her enigmatic, cold facade and her protective presence made me surrender again. I was melting in a way there was no turning back, and despite the fear I had earlier, I still let her in. I needed her in my body; in my mind, my heart, and now, in my soul. She was entering my entire being with just one bite on my neck.
The bite stung sharply, but the flood of sensation that followed was something my body craved without knowing it. The warmth spread through me, reaching deep into my heart's core. There, a glowing orb pulsed and throbbed, its red chains trembling and fracturing—awakening something ancient and powerful within. Then I saw an enormous shadow of either a wolf or Fenrir with more than one tail, and familiar dark oceanic violet eyes.
When I felt Mirxalyn's fangs extracted from my neck, I was taken back to the present, where she licked me before pulling away.
She kissed my temple before resting against mine. Then she asked softly, "Do you feel better than earlier?"
Savoring the peace, I nodded. "Good now, thank you." Subconsciously, I placed my hand on her chest to feel her faint heartbeat, and to create a small distance to check on her face before saying, "This changes everything…"
"Yes," She replied softly. But softness hardened as she gave me a warning, "The changes might start later. Remember to be aware that you will feel more strange than you usually do, or hearing things that don't belong to you is a sign of the changes of being Half-Mark by your mate.
I squinted my eyes, wondering what she was talking about. "Can you elaborate?"
"Your usual senses will double up." She answered, but noticing my deep thinking, she sighed before adding, "You need to channel them, master them before it consumes you and makes you addicted to my bites."
"I can do that," I said confidently because I was good at meditation. But thinking about me becomes addicted to her bites, I arched my brows, guessing, "So, it won't be the last time you'll bite me?"
"No, it won't, but I won't do it without your permission, regardless of how much it could starve me." She replied coolly, making me frown as I don't want her to starve. Before I could even open my mouth and say something, she began adding, "But I might bite you in case of emergency, like if this incident happened again, that's why I am telling you to channel them, or else, we might end up entangled naked."
I blushed at her last words, a teasing warning. I sighed, trying to compose myself, and I said, "Fine, that's fair enough." She smiled, and the air between us crackled with quiet electricity. My mind lingered on that moment, and my cheeks flushed anew. Without thinking, I covered my face, hiding my embarrassment. She chuckled softly—an uncommon sound that melted my defenses. My wife was breathtaking. "Lovely."
It seems my words hit her hard because Mirxalyn stopped giggling and started to look at me affectionately. The way she held her eyes fixated on me, I did not feel challenged or threatened; I felt confident. I met her intense gaze, leaning a little bit, leaving a room to escape, but none of us was pulling back. We gazed on each other's lips, both thinking how it tastes against our lips again. We leaned in, closing the space between us, careful, testing, but no one was stopping.
Mirxalyn's gentle but tender voice caught my breath when she asked for permission. "May I kiss my wife?"
My heart pounded in my ears, my voice caught somewhere in my throat. I nodded instead. Without hesitation, Mirxalyn claimed my lips. The kiss started gentle but deepened quickly, a moan slipping past my lips before I could stop it. She began claiming me again through a breathtaking kiss, marking, engraving, and pulling us closer. I even felt her hands pulling my waist closer as my hand clenched on her collar, pulling her more as my other hand tangled her hair, never wanting the kiss to end.
But sadly, we need a room to breathe. Only a few spaces, butterfly kisses placed on lips, before letting our foreheads touch each other.
"Mirxa, what pull did you bring into my life?" I wondered hoarsely because I knew my feelings for my wife had been stretched beyond a mate bond. It was stronger than life and death, which scares me more. "It's getting worse, stronger, and it's scaring me. But hon, I don't want to let you go anymore." I confessed, raw and honest, which caught her breath. I cried as I met her gaze again, pleading a hope once again, "Please, don't break me without holding me."
"How could I ever let you go when you start calling me Baby or Honey?" Mirxalyn smiled softly, and a shared warmth made us both tear up. Then she stood straight, held my hands as she placed them on her chest, and said, "I won't. Just flow and hold me too."
My heart flipped, and no matter how I tried to ignore it, my vampire queen and wife, Mirxalyn, was already inside. And this time, I am too, although my past still lingers around me.
"You better not do your swings on me," I warned teasingly, softening the heaviness wrapping around us and to hide the heat warming my cheeks.
"Can't promise." She chuckled as she tucked a strand of my hair behind my ears before stealing a kiss on my cheek.
I blushed harder, and I tried to glare but failed miserably, "Then I'll slap you more." I warned playfully, and she smiled tenderly at me, making my heart flutter. "And now I'm sure. I'm whipped for my wife."
"You're allowed to." Amused, she replied daringly. I was taken aback, frowning a little since nobody dared to hit her without fearing a consequence. But maybe I was an exception because I am her wife, I think. Then she remembered my class, "Anyway, it's time for your last class."
"Right, your grandfather's class. I almost forgot them." I nodded sadly, and for the first time, I didn't care about the class but being with her. I sighed and decided to leave because I didn't want her to notice I was yearning for her presence more than I should. But she grabbed my wrist, confusing me, "What?"
For a second, I thought she felt the same way, but I was wrong. Instead, she reminded me, "Don't be afraid to call me anytime you need me or my help."
"I'll keep that in mind," I said softly, but I didn't let her hand leave mine, and before I could stop myself, I pulled her collar again and kissed her lips deeply. Then I pulled away, touching her lips before saying, "You're making me yearn for you." She smiled, and before I stayed more with her, I pulled away, blushing. Then I walked away, whispering, but it was enough for her to hear. "I love you, hon."