Connection - Golden Lycans Sequel 3/3 [Complete]

Honey, I Get it Now

***Ophelia***

"Saturday..." I hear Ares whisper softly, right by my ear. I wasn't expecting it, and a shiver rushes through me in response.

I open my eyes to see him wearing an unusually playful expression, before he turns and promptly exits the balcony.

I exhale sharply, feeling irritated but also strangely proud of him; because ironically, this is exactly what I had suggested just before I'd dropped him off, and he's just pulled it off rather well.

I smile to myself, running a hand through my hair while my smile becomes wider, the excitement I had asked for, is now beginning to set in as I look forward to whatever Saturday is going to bring.

...

***Ares***

"Err HELLO? Let me guess, you're STILL blanking us for some RANDOM reason related to YOU messing up with Lia?" Madeleine exclaims from the sofa, looking at me expectedly.

Oh...yes. I had this issue to contend with, which I had largely forgotten about.

"Apologies, Madeleine...I..." I trail off, immediately distracted by Ophelia. I can see her smiling coyly to herself through the glass, and this only causes me to smile myself, because she just looks more beautiful to me than ever before.

"So, how long have you known that she's heir to...god, where does one even begin?" she says, as I finally look back at her, "is THAT why you gave her the silent treatment before Christmas break?"

I wish I had given more thought to how Madeleine and Ash would have perceived my distancing from Ophelia, because right now, I am struggling to think of something.

"You know?" I instead ask, as Ophelia didn't mention that Madeleine knew, only Ash. She rolls her eyes at me.

"Er yeah...it was kind of obvious when the queen randomly came into our flat to pick up her dear niece," she says excitedly, "all this time we've had Ella Landry's secret hybrid heir, right here in our f**king flat!"

"Ophelia-"

Madeleine looks immediately taken aback.

"OPHELIA? You're not even calling her LIA anymore? How long have you known?" She demands. I laugh nervously and purse my lips a little as Ash comes out of his room behind Madeleine, frowning as he sees me. He crosses his arms, flexing his muscles somewhat as he stares back at me. I can remember his words by the basketball court only too well, now.

I know that he feels the same way I do, about Ophelia. But, I think with a pang of satisfaction, it wasn't him that she wanted...

"I think that I was the last to know, in all honesty. I found out a couple of days before Christmas," I reply.

"Wait, you saw each other during the break?" she queries.

"Yes..." I begin slowly, wondering how to reply, just as Ophelia enters the flat from the balcony. I glance at her briefly, "uhh...so...her aunt and uncle brought her with them to my father's winter ball."

"Your father casually invites kings to his winter ball?" Madeleine asks, rather skeptically.

"He invites several, actually," I admit, feeling my mouth go dry as I get closer to the truth. Ophelia stops behind the other sofa, her eyes intense as she stares back at me.

She knits her brows a little and does a subtle nod, urging me to continue. It is but a split second of a moment, but it is enough to decide, as I look back at my friend. Her acceptance of me had meant everything. She was steadily becoming so much more to me than a dear friend, and what that truly meant was something I did not know or understand just yet.

I had spent the better part of the last day and a half, wishing to just look at her...to hold her...to be able to kiss her...to simply be near her, because everything about her has just made me feel so normalised within myself, steady and balanced...and I hadn't realised how much she affects me like this, until I had returned a few minutes ago.

...and right now she is encouraging me to be true to what I am. She wants me to embrace myself, with every fibre of my being, after all...

"Well, you see...that is because my father happens to be a king himself," I admit out loud, still staring at Ophelia, causing her expression to turn hopeful.

"Whoa, what? Who?" Ash says, stepping forward and relaxing his arms as he looks intrigued now, rather than irritated. I am glad to see he has shelved his pissed-off exterior for the time being.

"But...you're British?" Madeleine says slowly, before her eyes go wide like dinner plates, "ohhh no, are you guys cousins? Did King James have a secret child, like some awful Netflix movie?" I frown back at her and shake my head.

"I am British, and no, we are not cousins," I reply haughtily, wondering how her brain worked sometimes.

"So who is your dad? Where is he king of?" Ash asks, folding his arms again.

"Not where, but who," I clarify, before taking a deep breath, "my father is Augustus Katz. He is king of the vampires...of my people."

I let out a prompt exhale, my secret now out in the open. Ash and Madeleine say nothing, and I look anxiously back at Ophelia, who is still smiling back at me, this time rather proudly.

"Shut up....the vampire king?" Madeleine suddenly exclaims to break the silence, her expression one of disbelief. I nod once and her eyes go wide.

"So...you're also supernatural. You're a vampire," Ash finally says with a dejected sigh, looking as if he'd just heard some bad news.

I cannot think why this would trouble him.

"I am, yes," I confirm firmly, swallowing hard, unable to tell at this point if they are receiving this news well or not. Ophelia is feeling fairly relaxed about this, though; unless she is simply glad neither of us have to live a lie here, anymore. I wish I could feel the emotions of everyone, for a change.

"I thought he just had two sired sons, and you aren't Amadeus. I've seen him before," Ash comments with a frown.

"Up until his Winter Ball, he had kept the existence of his natural-born son, a secret," I explain. Ash then sighs a little and appears to accept this.

"You're a literal vampire, from the first ever? That's so hot," Madeleine suddenly says, then looking back at Lia, "oh, honey, I get it now."

Ophelia laughs a little at her comment, and she then turns toward Ash, her expression almost apologetic. I wonder if she knows how he feels?

"The scent of my hybrid blood was getting a little too intense for Ares, in the lead up to Christmas. Thats why he stopped being around us...around me. He was afraid he'd hurt me," she explains, glancing back at me momentarily, "my blood is unique, and the closer we've become, the more potent it's gotten."

"Wait...I thought natural-born vamps didn't crave blood? That's what...your brother? I mean that's what he said, right?" Madeleine correctly states. I shrug.

"I wish I could explain, but I cannot. However....I am very sorry for lying. To all of you. But I hope you understand why I did. We aren't viewed favourably at the best of times," I say clearly, earning another nod from Ash.

"...uh...me too, for not being forthcoming about my own family," Ophelia says, her expression a little amused, now, "but I also hope you know why I didn't want to broadcast it, and why I hope you'll keep it to yourselves..."

"Oh, of course, honey. Honestly, it is kinda perfect," Madeleine says, glancing between Ophelia and I with fascination, "the Prince of Darkness, and our Lady of the Light. The stuff of romance, right here in our flat."

"Yeah...about that," Ash says, clearing his throat, looking between us now too, "what's...the deal. I mean we all live here, so..."

Ophelia looks back at me and tilts her head, as if waiting for me to reply. I return her gaze and smile at her fully.

"I am taking Ophelia on a date this coming Saturday," I inform them.

"Ohh! Where are you taking her?" Madeleine asks, before her expression turns excited, "oh my god...I'VE actually kissed a vampire. That's one to come off my bucket list."

"I am not telling you the details of our date," I tell Madeleine, and she pouts back at me.

"How did you end up at Ophelia's house?" Ash then asks.

"Cutting a long and convoluted tale short...Ares saved my life, and I would not be here had he not ended up at my home," Ophelia says, her eyes bright with intense emotion as she looks back at me. Her gratitude and affection about this is very strong.

I truly want nothing more right now than to close the four metres of space between us and embrace her, to have my lips on her own and definitely on her neck once again, to have her hands on me...to feel her react to mine again...

I hastily put a stop to my thoughts as I feel my gums burning, my fangs threatening to emerge in response to a sudden upshot of hormones. It really doesn't help that she is looking at me in a similar way, feeling similar...

...lord.

Regardless of Atticus' attempts yesterday, I feel ill prepared for this.

All of it.

For the thousand or so books I had read, none of them could help ease the nervousness I am now feeling about Saturday.

...

***Ophelia***

I can't sleep.

I roll onto my back and kick the covers off. I feel very warm and my brain is completely distracted.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I look toward the door, a thumping in my chest. I know why I can't sleep, and the answer is two doors away.

I wasn't sure how I had managed to sleep last night, in all honesty, but perhaps it was because Ares hadn't been a few metres from me. Except he is now, and my body knew it. I couldn't explain how, or put the feeling into words, but it was like how I imagined an elastic band would feel, when relaxed, after being stretched a considerable amount. I had felt uncomfortable and uneasy, and now I felt...different.

My side still ached a little from the major bite, so I consider this to be some sort of autonomic requirement my body now had; I need him, because I still need to heal.

...but I also want him. I didn't just need to heal, I wanted to feel.

I step swiftly to the door, opening it quietly, the gently illuminated scene of the living area greeting me as I peer out of the doorway. It is silent, and still, and with no visible lights on in the other bedrooms. My eyes linger on Ares' door, and I contemplate my own proclamation on this.

WHY did I say it?

I could be cuddled up to him, right now. I could've spent the last day and a half, embracing him, kissing him, feeling so much closer to everything...

My face is now against his door, my breathing a little deeper as I wage a mental battle with myself. I want to knock, I want to go in, but everything I said to him in the car still stood. As desperate as I was to be all that I could be, I needed to consider him...

Apparently, I was a little more Lycan in my nature than I gave myself credit; a few weeks ago, I wouldn't have thought I'd be here, right now, with my nose pressed up against Ares' door, with my heart drumming a little harder than usual in my chest, and my body feeling several degrees warmer.

After a minute or so, I finally step away from the door, and I slowly make my way back to my bed.

I lay there very still, staring at my ceiling, wondering how I was going to concentrate in class tomorrow...and for the next four days after that....

...

***Ares***

I open my door and creep outside, light from the low sun coming through the window at the end of the walkway.

I look towards the kitchen and I am not surprised to see Ash, already preparing his breakfast. He looks up at me for a second before going back to his task.

Before things changed between Ophelia and I, he would have greeted me warmly, and offered me some of what he was making. But things had changed between us now, too. Last night he had quietly gone back to his room, and hadn't stuck around for the hundred questions Madeleine had asked me.

I hadn't slept too well. I was acutely aware of Ophelia across the corridor, her dreaming state had been a mixture of chaotic emotions. What had happened in her garden still troubled her, even if her conscious mind wasn't aware of it, her subconscious was.

Her side still pained her, as she still had some healing to do. As curious as this experience was for me, I knew that I probably needed to find a way to switch it off.

I was beginning to feel intrusive.

I slide onto one of the bar stools and watch Ash as he felt chops a shallot, ready to make one of his mouthwatering omelettes. He glances up at me briefly and sniffs loudly, evidently feeling awkward.

I am about to say something when he suddenly puts the knife down. He leans his hands on the breakfast bar as he looks directly up into my face. I feel nervous. This man is kind and gentle, but he also had the capacity to be fairly intimidating.

"How did you save her life?" he asks. Out of all the possible questions he could ask me...

I fold my arms in front of me on the breakfast bar and contemplate my words.

"She was attacked by rogue Lycans in the grounds of her home. She was bleeding heavily. I stopped it, dressed it...and...I cared for her. Which I think was probably the most important part of how she healed. She is still trying to heal now, actually," I explain.

"She lives around sixty miles from here," Ash frowns, "how were you there?"

He sounds slightly accusatory, and I should've figured this; he doesn't trust me. Atticus also suggested he wouldn't like that Ophelia had developed feelings for me.

"I felt her. I felt her fear, and I felt her pain. And then I ran to her," I reply simply. He nods a few times and sighs.

"You ran?" he clarifies.

"Vampires are incredibly fast, Ash. Even me, though I do not ingest blood. Fifty miles was doable, for me."

"So...you had her bleeding to death in front of you, and you didn't try it?" Ash asks. I immediately shake my head, annoyed at his question.

"Absolutely not. It was hard, at first. But...mind over matter. Ophelia is too important to me," I mutter.

"You said you felt her. How? Are vampires empathic like Fae?" Ash now asks.

"No, they are not. But, I am not normal," I say quietly, avoiding his gaze for a moment.

"Well that's for damn sure," he says with a hint of amusement. He picks up the knife again and pauses before grabbing another shallot, "want some omelette?"

I relax considerably at this kind offer, and I smile back at him.

"That would be wonderful. Thank you," I reply gratefully, amazed. Both Madeleine and Ash had accepted me, thus far. He smiles briefly and begins chopping the other shallot as another door opens down the corridor.

I look up immediately, knowing it is Ophelia, and I turn on the stool to watch her exit her room. She is wearing a navy corduroy mini skirt along with a tight, cream-coloured jumper, and I feel my mouth go a little dry. Those clothes are definitely new, as they aren't something she usually wears.

"Ohh...new clothes?" Ash asks as she walks into the kitchen area, stopping a metre from me. Madeleine also leaves her room at this point, wearing her own skintight attire. She looks Ophelia up and down, and appears to approve.

"My aunt took me shopping," Ophelia tells Ash.

She slides onto the stool next to me and I cannot stop looking at how tight her jumper is around her chest...

"Uhh I need a royal aunt, that jumper is doing you all sorts of favours, Lia," Madeleine says, taking the final stool.

I agree.

"Yeah...so how did you find out Ares is...fang inclined?" Ash says, frowning at Ophelia a little. She utters a short laugh and I smirk a little, glancing sideways at her as she does the same to me.

"It was a masquerade," she says, turning her gaze to Ash, "he knew who I was, who I really was, once I'd arrived with my uncle. But I didn't figure out that Augustus Katz's youngest son was my friend, until the end of the evening."

"How did you figure it out?" Ash asks, chucking the chopping board contents into a frying pan. Ophelia smiles at me again, and I feel her mood change, as she recalls the moment in her mind.

"Because I would know his smile, anywhere," she says, and I smile a little giddily back at her.

"Oh that's so cute...and also a little vom at the same time," Madeleine comments, "but to change the subject, isn't today the first day of Fae?"

"Sure is," I reply happily.

...

***Ophelia***

"Ready to go learn about your people?" Ares says as we step out of the building together into a chilly, frosty morning.

"You mean... our people?" I counter. He stops immediately, looking perplexed.

"Our people?" he repeats back.

"Ares, come on," I say with a light smile, "I don't know how, but I feel it. Do you not feel it? You must be questioning exactly what is in your DNA, by now?" His dark eyes look so hopeful about the idea, and he nods a little.

"Despite how the Fae are all women...I admit, there have been brief moments," he says longingly, before his warm hand reaches for mine. I look down as his fingers knit through mine.

"Hey, what did we agree?" I say jovially as his fingers squeeze mine. He arches a brow slightly at me, while I try to work out how he is feeling, being able to sense a slither of something now our hands are connected. It was like a day and a half away from him had dulled my ability to do so.

"First of all," he begins, giving my hand a tug and starting us on our walk to our lecture, "we didn't agree anything. You said something, and you then drove off. What I wanted was entirely different. Secondly, this is not negotiable. You still need to heal, and for that you need me and considering we are about to be in a lecture theatre, this basic contact will have to suffice. So I am not letting go."

I bite my lip and smirk back at him, enjoying this bolder attitude of his. It suited him.

"Alright then," I tell him, giving his hand a squeeze.

"You're tired, did you not sleep well?" he suddenly says, and I look back at him oddly as we walk.

"I'm sorry, you can tell that? Actually...how could you even tell that I still need to heal? That is not something even my mother can tell," I ask.

"Honestly, I don't know. But, given that vampires can tell the health state of people they drink from, I suppose it might have expanded my empathic ability?" he suggests.

"If that's true, that's a distinct advantage for a future doctor," I tell him.

"I suppose so. But that's good, because I intend to be a very good one," he says with a chuckle, "but anyway, how come you're tired?"

"I couldn't sleep for quite some time. That's all," I admit. He stops and looks intrigued.

"You're lying...a little," he says rather astutely. I am not sure what to say, not having been 'read' like this before, not even by my own mother.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly says, picking up on my discomfort over this and subsequently letting go of my hand, "I...can't switch it off."

"I understand. Maybe my mother knows someone who can help you?" I suggest, looking up into his velvety brown eyes. I reach back out for his hand and give him a little smile as I do so, "perhaps until then, you don't verbalise everything I am feeling? As you once said, people are entitled to feel things privately."

"You're right. I apologise," he replies, tugging my hand again in the direction of the lecture theatre.

Once inside, Ares smiles back at me as he leads me to where we normally sat together, "I am very glad I no longer have to hide at the far back corner."

"I wish you had just told me," I tell him sadly. He looks awkward for a moment, and I look back at him curiously.

"You did find out, once," he says to my surprise.

"Well, I didn't, because I would've remembered," I tell him with a short laugh, getting my things out my satchel. He shakes his head.

"My persuasion works on you, Ophelia," he reveals.

"What? No no, that's impossible, your father and brother failed, I mean-" I exclaim, confused.

"You didn't zone out on the balcony, when you made me that first mocha," he says quietly. I cast my mind back to when that was.

"The night of the day your family came here?" I query. He nods.

"I didn't believe my father had managed. Your eyes...they didn't look right, and how you commented on it after. I knew it hadn't. So, I tested it. I asked what made you happy," he says, his cheeks turning a little pink, "and...you recalled our time in the butterfly enclosure. You also put your hand out onto mine, and the fondness you felt for me from that memory, I felt it. The scent of you was suddenly very overwhelming, and I couldn't stop my fangs from coming out. You saw me."

"You...uhhh, I don't understand, you made me forget it? Was I not kind? I must've been....was I not?" I ask, worried I might not have been. His expression softens considerably, and he looks a little adoringly at me.

"You were very kind. Too kind," he says with a knitted brow, "the hunger has terrified me. Any point we had gotten closer to each other, it has only gotten worse. Particularly after Madeleine's party."

"Well, that's when I realised I liked you a lot more than I like anyone else," I tell him coyly. He leans closer to me and brings our connected hands up in front of us. He gives my hand a brief kiss and smiles at me sweetly.

"The same day my father advised me to stay away from you...but I didn't want to. I couldn't. How it took yet more time for me to realise how I felt..." he trails off.

A woman clears her voice over the sound system and our attentions are drawn down to the front of the lecture theatre, where I recognise Sen, standing there in her traditional fae clothing, staring right at us.

The whole room falls silent within seconds as people settle down and focus on the woman at the front. Having spent the last twenty-five years in this realm rather than the Fae realm, Sen's hair had brightened to pure white. Perhaps the glossiest looking white hair anyone would ever see, it hangs down below her hips, a few inches above the hemline of the floaty white dress she is wearing. She looks more like the quintessential idea of an angel, more than a fairie. Her bright blue eyes scan the lecture hall, pausing slightly to smile at me as she does so.

"Good morning, eager, young minds," she says clearly, her voice smooth and calming, "I will be conducting your lectures this week, introducing you to the complex physiology of a species that has largely been eradicated in this world. My species. My name is Sen, and I am over two thousand earth years of age, and I am one of just five individuals in this entire world who carry the genetics of our proud race. Accidentally slain by the Lycans, and hunted by the vampires, the lure of what a faerie could offer to these two species pushed us to the very brink of extinction. We bear no ill will against either species, in spite of what they have done to our own. Why? Because it is in their nature, and by definition of our own nature, Fae treasure what is natural, above all else. I'd like you to remember that, as we go forward. For everything, always draws back to nature...."

With an elegant gesture of her arms and a flick of her wrists, vines begin to quickly grow up the walls of the lecture theatre, many different coloured flowers blossoming as they climb higher and higher up to the ceiling of the room, traveling across the lights, causing the room to be plunged into relative darkness.

"Wow..." I hear Ares breathe next to me, among a few other exclamations across the room. I smile to myself; I had no idea Sen was into theatrics.

There is a burst of warm, orange light at the front, from the appearance of a ball of undulating orange flame growing larger and larger, highlighting Sen's face behind it. She concentrates hard on what she is doing, and the ball suddenly splits into perhaps hundreds of smaller balls of flame, each zooming around the lecture theatre, taking the place of hundreds of the tiny flowers on the vines, illuminating the room beautifully. It is incredible to watch, and I wonder why my own mother had never done anything this exciting at home.

"Solar-powered it may be, but in the absence of the true sun, flame will suffice," Sen says with a wry smile, now gesturing toward the projector at the front, "unfortunately, I do need solar power to run through the presentation..."

...

***Ares***

Half an hour into the presentation, I sit up a bit more in my seat at the next slide: 'The Key to a Faerie's Power'

This is what I deeply wanted to know.

"The key to our power, is variable and depends entirely upon several factors," Sen says, glancing up towards where Ophelia and I are sat.

"As young Fae reach their early teens, they become able to perform very basic elemental magic. This is an instinctual response to the natural world around them, and only affords them very little control. It is a taster...for what is to come," Sen explains, clicking to the next slide, displaying a single word in capital letters, "for the rest of it. Love. Love is what unlocks a Faerie's true potential. Love for herself. Love for her world. Love for another....and their love for her."

I glance briefly at Ophelia, and she is staring resolutely down at the front. I can tell she has switched off, and I know why. She knows all this, but the subject matter also hurts her...and I was starting to wonder if this was truly part of her problem...

"...and of course, who doesn't remember their first love? Back when they were so young, before troubles found them, before life got too complicated. A Faerie's power is a reflection of the bond she has with another, with nature, and the understanding of herself. Upon reaching maturity, nature reaches out, and nature rejoices, when after a brief pain, a faerie gains her wings. The true spectrum of a faerie is revealed when they allow themselves to feel pure, unbridled love, their heart filled with joy from the connection they find with the earth," Sen continues, before staring directly at me and narrowing her eyes, "a faerie can only fly when she takes that leap, metaphorically speaking; that leap towards another, being vulnerable, trusting that connection. Allowing love to catch her."

...

"I don't think I have seen you that intrigued by a lecture," Ophelia says as we exit the lecture hall, "and I understand why. Understanding my heritage is important to me too."

"They're an intriguing race. Imagine what the world would be like if there were thousands of you...instead of just five," I reply sadly. Ophelia tucks a long blonde curl behind her ear, and she looks a little torn. The loss starts to cloud her aura once again and I feel my heart drop.

"Stop," I say suddenly, "did you not hear what she said? I have never heard it before now, but surely you've heard it before?"

"I don't know what you mean," she sighs, allowing the sadness to envelope her again.

"Love for yourself, Ophelia. You need to let this loss...go," I tell her, "untether yourself from it. Only then would you be able to finally free yourself."

She shakes her head, muted colours overriding the brighter colours in her aura.

"It's impossible," she sighs, folding her arms. She continues walking along the path to the cafe, and I walk alongside her.

Over the last hour or so I had become very certain in my plans for Saturday.

Somehow...I was going to set Ophelia free, and then she was going to fly.