Written in her Stars

°☆•Seven•☆°

Lear

He squeezed Enya's hand tighter in his when he felt her startle as the heavy arched door shut behind their backs, the sound ricocheting off the tall walls bathed in deep shadows which surrounded the courtyard, making Lear feel trapped.

He inhaled deeply, banishing the crushing feeling that they had left their freedom and happiness behind along with the sunshine. Did Enya feel this way every time she returned home? If he had known, he would have taken her away a long time ago, without waiting to talk to her father when she came of age. The man didn't look like he meant to talk to him anyway, Lear mused as he observed the king's back, the crimson cloak aswirl around his legs as he moved away from them. But if he didn't want to talk, why did he invite him in...

"Seize them," Enya's father thundered without looking back as he reached the opposite end of the courtyard.

A group of silent, dark-clad guards peeled themselves off the courtyard's walls like shadows come to life, swarming the couple, pulling Lear from Enya, separating them so fast that her hand had slipped out of his before he understood what was happening.

"Shift and run!" he heard Enya call to him. He looked at her, waiting for her to shift first, seeing her burst out crying. He didn't comprehend anything.

"I can't... shift, I'm... sorry, Lear, I didn't... want this," she stammered through her tears.

He frowned, then tried to morph... He couldn't. Magic. He was bound in his human form by magic, and so was Enya.

Her father's laughter echoed through the courtyard now filled with too many guards and the king's trusted magicians.

"You can't do this!" Lear called, his rage at the unfair treatment lending him the courage he did not have, the courage he needed to fight magic. As if that was a possibility. "You can't hold us here against our will, Your Majesty," he corrected himself, addressing the king with his title. He didn't want to anger the man by being rude and making matters worse. He had no idea what to do and how to get out of this situation. He needed to protect his mate, take her somewhere safe, away from the grasp of magic...

He looked at Enya for advice only to find her drowning in her tears, mouthing 'run' at him, the sight breaking his heart.

"You can't treat us this way, you mustn't make her suffer. She's your only daughter!" Lear called, losing the last trace of his patience and politeness.

He didn't care what the king would do to him, but he couldn't stand seeing Enya suffer like this. Her distress and pain were crushing him, breaking his heart and soul into pieces that could never be put together again, not the way they had been. He would forever remember this moment; it would affect his future if the king planned to give him any. Did he want to kill him? Both of them?

The king's forced laughter scattered his dark thoughts and made him look away from Enya, a searing pain running through his very bones as his eyes met her father's.

"Oh really?" the man taunted through teeth clenched with anger. "I can't? Well, I think I have all the right to, actually. You, werewolf, ruined my only daughter and keep meeting her in secret, against my will. I sent a messenger to you father, wasn't he clear enough? You knew you'd be punished should you not forget her!"

Lear shook his head, the king's logic impossible to understand. He was a werewolf, Enya's fated mate, they had to be together, there was no other way of looking at it. The king was wrong, he did not understand; Lear needed to explain. If only he could take Enya, who was still standing straight at his side only because the two guards were holding her up by her elbows, her face dissolved in tears of pain and despair, in his arms and console her, he could focus on finding the right words to speak to the king...

"Take them to the tower," the king addressed the guards holding the lovers, before he turned to his magicians. "You know what to do. But I changed my mind-- keep them in one room, let them appreciate each other's suffering. They need to learn from this experience. I should have done this a long time ago... Oh well..."

The sound of his laughter drowned Lear's words. "No! You can't! She's your daughter, for goodness' sake! And when my father finds out..."

"Make him be silent. I'm tired of the empty threats," the king ordered an instant before a guard's gloved fist connected with Lear's temple, sending him into a sweet, momentary oblivion.

It was the sound of Enya's suffering, subdued to breathy gasps as she tried not to wake him, what brought him back to consciousness, minutes, or maybe hours later.

Lear opened his eyes, then closed them tightly again as the realisation of what had happened assaulted his senses along with the sight of Enya chained to the opposite wall, her body, shivering as it tried to resist the pain inflicted by magic in his full view. She must have tried to fight against the guards; her dress was in tatters, and her lips swollen and bleeding. Lear cursed under his breath through a wave of pain flooding his body even as his consciousness returned; she had needed him and hadn't been there for her...

"I'm... sorry... Lear," she breathed. "He has no right to punish you too..."

He shook his head and looked into her eyes, their looks the only way they could touch each other. "No, Enya. You have nothing to apologise for. He has no right to treat you... this way... either," he spoke with difficulty. The pain was excruciating, searing his body as well as his mind. "I'm sorry, Enya. I shouldn't have allowed you to return home tonight; we should have run..."

She shook her head this time, too weak to tell him that this wasn't his fault.

"I love you, Lear," she said, choking on the fresh tears flooding her eyes.

"I love you, Enya. I always will. I'll get us out of here and we'll hide, no one will find us," Lear promised what he knew he couldn't do, just to give her imagination some hope, and strength to leave the chained tortured body behind and soar beyond the walls of the room. The only thing they could do now was play for time and wait. Hopefully, his father would notice his absence, and his pack would rescue them. That was their only chance.

"I love you, Lear," she repeated, closing her eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips concealed behind the curtain of her tears.

"And now that you are done, we can proceed," the king whom neither of them noticed entering the room spoke from its darkest corner. "This is what will happen. Once I'm done with you, you won't remember each other and what I did to you. You'll only remember the pain and that it had been inflicted upon you as a well-deserved punishment. This will only take a couple of days, and then you will both return to your lives without the memory of each other. You'll marry Landon, Enya, if he will have you, spoilt goods as you are. As for you, werewolf, no one will notice your short disappearance, or they'll pretend they didn't. Should your parents realise that you forgot your mate entirely, they will be happy about it, I'm sure, for their own good. Everything will be perfect, much better than before. You won't exist for one another.

"No, father, please..." Enya begged, her voice turning into a tortured wail. "Not... this..." she panted, "do... anything else but not this, I can't forget him! Kill me instead!"

"Enya," Lear spoke to her, making her turn to him. He drew her eyes into his, making her momentarily forget about everything and everyone but the two of them as he continued, giving her the only thing he could still offer to her-- comfort. "He'll never succeed. No one can take away what we have; he can't take our love from us. Do you think I could ever forget you?" But even as he pronounced those words, he could feel a... coldness, a veil of black fog, thickening gradually, penetrating deep into his mind, its long, exploring tendrils coiling around his thoughts and memories searching, finding and settling over those concerning Enya.

"I'll make you... pay for this, Your... Majesty," Lear threatened through gritted teeth, making the king laugh.

"I can't wait! Now, well, enjoy your last moments together, children. I'll see you in a couple of days, Enya. I won't be seeing you again, werewolf, so, hmm, have a good life?"

With that, he was gone, leaving the tortured couple staring into each other's eyes until the fear of slowly losing themselves, the bond, the love they had, made Enya faint. Lear's mind followed her into unconsciousness soon after.