Ponte, Italy, December 2014 - Constantine
He wakes up in a sweat. His heart is beating rapidly in his chest. He is panting raggedly, and he moans as the dream, no nightmare, hits him. He glances over at Aefre, thankful that she is fast asleep, oblivious to his nightly waking’s. This is so new to him. He has never experienced this kind of guilt before and he has done some horrific things in his millennia on this planet. He has done horrific things to the woman that he loves, the mother of his child, but he has never lost sleep over it before…in the literal sense.
“Oh, Vincentius,” he whispers into the pre-dawn, and turns over so that he is no longer looking at his wife.
Every time he looks at her, all he sees is his once-beloved charge.
He has tried to brush it off. He has tried to separate himself from this, from Sebastian, even before he murdered him. He pulled away, knowing that he couldn’t accept him and Aefre together. He has plenty of experience in dismissing charges from his life as if they mean nothing. But they didn’t mean anything. That is why it was so easy for him.
He didn’t care.
He was their sire out of necessity, not because he needed them. Even Clem. The woman who he thought for so long ago was the woman he needed by his side for eternity. Even Lance. The man he thought he needed to be with him for all time. But they soon came to mean nothing to him. He turned his back on them and he felt nothing. It is no wonder that Clementine left him the way she did. Gutting him with a spear and attempting to burn him at the stake. He had turned away from her and he knew it, but out of a sense of loyalty to his brand-new race, a sense of pride, his ego, made him pretend for the last few years of their relationship. Not even ‘Bastian knew of his true feelings; he was that good at hiding them. For him to have used Clem to hurt Aefre the way that he did, doesn’t surprise him, but it is completely pointless
as she meant nothing to him. He wishes that he could have told Aefre of this, but she just makes it so damn difficult to tell her anything. Her behavior with Devon that day had left him reeling and reverting to type: needing to hurt her so that she knew, without a doubt, that she had hurt him. But that ship has sailed now. He will never utter that woman’s name again in his wife’s presence. Her jealousy was so unfounded, even though after a century he forgave the woman for doing what she did to him. He didn’t blame her. He was a cold bastard to her behind closed doors.
But it warmed his heart in a way that only Aefre can cause in him. He adores her so much when she is jealous. He knows that she loves him, he does, but when that green-eyed monster rears its head, it makes him feel special. He smiles into the silk pillow, only to have it wiped off his face when he pictures her face and sees Sebastian instead.
How could he?
It is inconceivable to him that he did that to the man that he once loved with his whole being. He did it for his wife, of that he has no doubt, but he also knows that he did it for himself. That small, insecure part of himself that he squashes, crushes out of existence, every time it shows itself to him and him alone. Aefre’s words to him in that cell affected him more than he can even admit to himself. He can never talk to her about, get it off his chest, as there is always going to be that minuscule part of him that wonders if, perhaps, she was so amenable to Sebastian’s suggestion because it is what she wanted. To dismiss their daughter, the child she made with him, to be with someone else. If he mentions it to her and he sees it pass across her face, even for a microsecond, it will devastate him to the point of no return. He knows this, so he doesn’t bring it up even though it is eating him alive. He knows that Aefre loves their daughter now. He sees it every second she spends with her. That adoration and awe on her face that surpasses even that which she had for him at the beginning. It is pure, of that he has no doubt now. But before…he just doesn’t know for sure.
He sighs and flops over onto his back. Aefre turns and snuggles into him. He loves it when she does that, more so now that they have no Vampire bond to each other. Before it was innate. She couldn’t help herself. Now, it makes him know that she wants it, not just needs it. He kisses the top of her blonde head, pushing away his guilt.
Sebastian deserved what he got.
That is what he must keep telling himself. He will not survive this otherwise as he has no idea how to deal with the overwhelming guilt. He will let it crush him, bringing the ever-hovering darkness with it and he will lose everything. If he makes even the slightest misstep with Aefre or, more importantly, his daughter, he will lose them both. For good this time. There is no way on this Earth, or any other, that she will accept anything less than perfection from him now.
And she is one hundred percent right to.
He will never forgive himself if he hurts either one of them, however inadvertently. It will be his ultimate undoing. She will leave him with Arathia, and he will let her as it is what is best for his daughter. The one person in this World that he loves above all others. Even his wife.
“You okay?” she mumbles to him, having roused enough to know that he is awake and ponderous.
“Perfect,” he says to her, covering up his lie, with a kiss to the top of her head again. “Never leave me, okay?” he adds in a whisper. “I am finally at peace, Aefre.”
He doesn’t know where those words came from, but it makes her sit up, all the way awake now. The sheet drops from her, exposing her breasts to him, but for once, he is only looking into her eyes as they pool with love. All for him. He doesn’t ever want that to drain away.
But deep down he knows he will fuck this up. He doesn’t know how; he doesn’t know when. But this power inside of him is volatile and if he was hotheaded before, it is now a thousand times worse.
“Hey,” she says, stroking his face. “I am not going anywhere. I couldn’t now, even if wanted to.”
Her words frighten him. She stays because of their child? The insecurity of her words claws at him and he feels it cloud his eyes. She sees it and smiles.
“No, you idiot,” she laughs, having somehow cottoned onto his feelings. “Although, Arathia needs both of her parents, I am not going anywhere because I love you so much. I need you. And…I know you won’t admit this, but you need me too.”
He opens his mouth to protest that he doesn’t need anyone, but she shushes him.
“I love that you need me. I want you to need me. If you don’t need me, then what good am I?” she asks lightly.
“I do need you,” he says after a pause. I need you to be safe. “Do the ritual with me, I need to feel close with you.”
She readily agrees, to his relief, and as she climbs on top of him, her pert breasts are now the focus of his attention. She holds her hand out to him and he obliges her, as she does to him. They mutter the words that ties them together, while she grabs his cock and shoves it unceremoniously inside her. He smiles in his head. He loves that about her, that she doesn’t need the romance. She just wants him to get on with it so she can feel what he brings about in her. He feels exactly the same way. He never could keep his hands off her and he only feels truly happy when he is fucking her. It is a crude sentiment, but one that is true and always has been. He feels the climax about to hit him as the wind whips her hair into her eyes. He reaches up to brush it out of face, with a smile that makes her cream herself all over him. Then he can’t hold back. He unloads into her, not just his cum, but everything. His pain, his guilt, his insecurity, his disgust at himself, his love for her, his love for their child. Everything.
“I love you!” she screams at him as the ritual ends, but their fucking only gets more intense.
He places his hand over her heart. “I love you, Aefre, my sweet. More than I can ever tell you,” he whispers to her and with a final burst of inner strength, he shoves Sebastian from him mind and flips his wife over so that he can impale her with more force than he knows she is comfortable with. But he needs it, so she will let him, because she owes him. Big.
He hasn’t forgotten about Vito and his blurted-out statement that the child his wife lost was in fact, the Dark Fae Vampire’s. It makes him sick to his stomach. He had wanted to kill the man where he stood, but, of course, Aefre protected him. It is a worry that will haunt him as long as Vito remains in her company. He can never allow her to have sex with him ever again. He will not be able to bear it if she gets with a Dark Fae child again. Even though she has given him everything he ever wanted with his own daughter, he cannot tolerate a connection between the two of them in that way. He will curse her himself before he ever lets that happen again. Delinda is different. Aelfric is dead and Remiel isn’t her real father. It makes a difference to him. He knows she only gave over responsibility to her new sire to not only protect the girl from the Fae, but also to protect Devon from being killed on the spot when Aefre re-turned the little prick. He isn’t a fucking idiot. He saw straight through the magnanimous gesture. However, he can live with that. Even though he would protect Delinda. Remiel’s presence isn’t necessary. He hopes Aefre knows that. It is important to him that she knows he has feelings for the child. Her child. But there can be no more. It really is as simple as that.