𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐒.
The prematurely born daughter of Zeus and Hera has a lot on her hands, but as the newborn goddess of grace she shall take her duties with her namesake.
Bringing herself to Italy t...
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Marcus' POV
I grabbed every little bit of attention I could get from my breathtaking mate. Seeing our golden bond grow into a blinding white, it was perhaps the most satisfying part of my gift. Her small giggles whenever I brushed my hands through her white hair, now they were just a bonus.
Time had stopped when I first met my darling Callidora, and I rejoiced in her choice of language. It had been too long since I found someone other than my brothers to converse with in my native tongue of Greek. English was easy and had been for a while, but the comforts of the old world came with that language, and it pulled her closer to my heart.
Just one more little touch. Who was I kidding? It always turned into about fifty before my angel went to sleep. I couldn't help but long for a physical connection with her. I had gone on too long with nothing of the sort, not touching anyone outside of trial for almost three hundred years. Not even Aro tried to bring a caring hand to me, for I would always push him away.
With her it was different. Not being near her led to anxiety like I had never felt before. Our bond, fresh and filled with new excitement, connected our hearts and souls, which must have been the cause for all of my distress. All I wanted was to have her safe, inside of my arms, and focused on me. No matter how selfish, I wanted Callidora all to myself. Nobody would have her, and no man or woman could ever look at her like I do and get away with it.
A few years ago, hell, maybe even a few days ago, I would have been wishing for death. Now, I wanted nothing more than to live with this precious, tiny, practically albino goddess of mine.
Her stumbling into my life was both blessed and unexpected. Aro tried to reassure me that mates come at just the right time. I shouldn't have stopped believing in my brother. For the past five hundred years all hope in my mind was lost, preferring to become even more of a recluse than I was before. No touches, no dismal chatter, just pure and uneventful silence.
Before the incident, I was quite talkative. It's what made my brothers and I so compatible. Now I could finally say something during trial. Perhaps not much, but I said something like that yesterday, more than I had said during a trial in well over two centuries.
My mate brought out the best parts of myself I had locked away, and I hope that I could bring out something in her as well.
It was those little things that make her who she is. The way she clicks her tongue whenever she gets nervous or how her body gets warmer when I give her any sort of compliment. It's a rush, giving those, because lord, is she gorgeous. I could compliment her all day. And I mean every single one of them. Our small chats during the night always left me breathless, even if I do not need air to function.
