Deathly Bonds (Slytherin's Heir Book 2)

Chapter One

"I think you're a demigod, Marcus." The words rang true in his ears, an unbelievable statement that simultaneously pushed his world off balance and skewed everything in place. Marcus swore his heart skipped a beat as it all clicked into place. Charmspeak. This freak power has a name. I'm not the only one.

"Marcus," Annabeth muttered. "Look up." Slowly, he looked up at her with a muddled expression. "Not at me, above your head!"

Marcus leaned back just in time to catch the glimmering white dove that flickered like a mirage before dimming and fading from sight. "What-"

"That's her symbol, she's claimed you as her child. Awfully fast too, guess they're making good on their promises," she explained. "That confirms you're a demigod, like us." It was impossible to depict the cluster of emotions behind her eyes and briefly, Marcus wished he had the power to pluck the thoughts from her brain instead of the power of charmspeak. Maybe then he'd know if it was pity or disgust in her eyes. Something like you is one of us, his mind sneered.

His head sank into his hands as he dropped back into the seat. He was afraid to look around, afraid to see what he'd find in the other eyes around him. His truths laid bare and his mother's name unveiled. It felt right but how could it be? What did that make him? What did that make the all powerful mother than abandoned him here to become a monster? His head felt stuffy, packed with questions and doubts that curled around like a nest of snakes, coiling and rearing their heads, each uglier than the last.

Abruptly, he stood, hands flat on the table as panic kindled in his chest. I need out. I need to get away from here. I can't stay here. Before his thoughts drowned him. Before he could discern from pity or fear or disappointment. Before he saw how Zaiden would look at him from now.

His feet carried him across the room and into the corridor against the voices calling for him to slow down, to wait, to think. All he could do was think. About how he didn't need their pity. Maybe his father was an asshole. Maybe he'd done terrible things at his order but he'd still done them. A sad childhood didn't wash away his crimes. A sad childhood didn't fix the lives he'd damaged or the memories he'd tainted or clean the blood off his hands. They didn't need to know how his father treated his children. Marcus would rather they hated him for what he'd done. Judged him without that film of pity portraying him as some sad broken boy with nothing left to do but beat to his father's drum.

Before he realised it, Marcus was standing before the lake, his breathing laboured from exertion or the overwhelming pressure of his mind - he couldn't tell. Ignoring the odd looks from the students enjoying the early morning sunrise he crouched on his heels, hands curled in his hair, feeling so, so small.

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder, clothes rustling as somebody settled beside him. Marcus knew that scent. He'd woken up to it many mornings - it was Zaiden. Earthy, warm, unwavering and kind. He was everything Marcus didn't deserve. And now he knew the things he kept hidden. Death Eater. Kidnapper. Abused. Coward.

Zaiden nudged his head against Marcus' shoulder, trying to break him out of his thoughts. His emotions were a living thing, his face was an open book and his eyes were dripping concern. How quickly would they turn to hate once Zaiden knew who he really was?

With utmost care, Zaiden unclasped Marcus' hands from his hair, holding them in his own lap as if he could be the anchor Marcus needed. I'm here, he was saying. Talk to me.

But what was he supposed to say? I'm not sorry I traded in Percy, but I can't stop the guilt every time I look at you. I've hurt people with this power I've been given and I do it for my father who murdered your parents and silenced your voice. I've been beaten and ruined and I'm too scared of what could happen if I stand on my own two feet.

"I'm not... I'm not broken," Marcus choked out. "I'm not." It was all he could say. If Zaiden didn't believe him then who would? He didn't even know he believed himself. His breath stumbled on its way out, catching on the emotions at his doorstep. "This is just - just... a lapse in judgement," he finished lamely.

Zaiden sat patiently. Marcus was too scared to look him in the eyes, focusing instead on his hands in the other boy's lap, the stark difference between his big pale hands and Zaiden's smaller tanned ones. No excuses came tumbling out. Maybe later. But right now he had nothing to say. A quiet sigh passed through Zaiden's lips and his hands felt cold as Zaiden let go. He let himself smile ruefully. That's not the answer he was looking for - of course.

Warmth erupted in tingles as thin arms wrapped around his chest, holding him close and tight. Zaiden shifted his weight back until they were both lying in the grass, and Marcus couldn't care less what the students around them must've thought. Something bloomed in his chest, smothering that kindle of panic and fear and doubt. He shed it in tears, allowing himself to cry into the older boy's shoulder as the morning dew dampened their clothes.

What was he supposed to do now? They weren't going to want him back. He'd given away Percy to the enemy. He was the enemy. In ways that nobody knew. Marcus had only ever had two goals. To protect Isa, and to protect Zaiden. He'd followed every whim of his father purely for that reason. Marcus had never even allowed himself to dream of a life not under his thumb, not fighting for his life or somebody else's. But now both those people were here. But how could he protect them? Did he even deserve to?

He had time for that later. But right here, right now, he had Zaiden, who couldn't hate him or he wouldn't be here. Isa was safe inside Hogwarts and away from their father. He'd face the future later, but for now he focused on relishing in this goddamn hug that he'd needed for so long.

~~~~

Imagine going over your old plans to figure out where you wanted to go with this story only to find out none of your plans are consistent and you derailed at least four times and it's impossible to pull it back without rewriting. Guess I'm flying blind again.

Peace,

BTSWD
Borntosingwithdrama