All Chapters of Marcel of The Lone Mountains- A Vampyre’s story: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Evangeline’s POVMy visions of this evening have been pretty accurate up until this point. I saw the cave, the stake, even the flowers, but I did not foresee the conflict between Constance and myself. I have lived through each and every day, spurred on by the thought of putting an end to Halen’s tyranny and getting justice for the slaughter of my family and destruction of my home. Not once did it occur to me that Constance would want to slay her demon.She has lived under his rule for much longer than I, and if I am honest with myself I know she has earned the right to be the one who uses the stake, but I can not let go of the burning hatred that drives me, I will never get over it if I fail to fulfil my vow to end him.“He will be in the library soon and the fire should already be lit.” Constance whispers and looks at the bundle of pale blue flowers in my hand.“I will meet you there. I just need to get a couple of things from my room. Do you have everything you need?” I ask her gent

Evangeline’s POVHalen takes a step backwards and turns his attention to Constance. He looks at her in a way I have never seen before. Disappointment perhaps, a hint of anger, maybe a bit of fear. His brows knit tightly on his forehead and his mouth pulls into a tight line across his face.The smoke from the flowers is thickening and settling in a barely noticeable cloud against the high ceiling. It isn’t going to do any good up there. The stake in my hand is getting heavy and my wrist aches from its physical weight but it’s the mental act of waiting that is consuming my energy.“I did this all for you, my love. To protect you and keep you safe. You do not understand the dangers beyond our gates.” Halen begins his appeal to Constance’s conscience and the love she once had for him. He knows her to be weak, which is not true. She is the strongest woman in this god forsaken place, there is more to strength than brute force. Enduring this sorry excuse of a man for centuries is a testament

Marcel’s POV Warm, clear water laps lazily at my ankles and I hold on to the side of the boat, my legs have only just gotten used to the rocking of the waves and now the soft sand slipping beneath my feet is a welcome reprieve. The midday sun beats down from the heavens and I fall to my knees, soaking myself as the rest of the pack do the same. The two day crossing to the Northern Islands was uneventful for the most part. The pups excitedly chattered of the adventure ahead, none of them having ever left their protected home in Blackledge Woods. Rosie has barely left my side since I found her and her friends hiding from the insurgents, all of them huddled in a shivering mass near the entrance of a cave. I have been rather less excited, I have never travelled more than a few days from home, and it turns out I am not well suited to travelling, particularly by sea if this experience was anything to go by.. The sickness came on suddenly and violently but thankfully the crossing was brief

Marcel’s POVThe whole time they talked about the threat coming for us and the death of Halen, all I could see inside my mind were the images of what could have happened to her, to my Eva.She is here now, in my arms, the heat of her flesh warms my own and her whimpering gasps as I explore her depths with my hand set my soul alight. She calls it her sacred place and it is a most appropriate name. I would spend forever on my knees, worshipping at her alter, and my life would be well spent.“Mar.. Marcel...” she stutters my name between gasps as my tongue tastes the salty glean on her skin. My knees sink into the loose sand and her fingers glide along my scalp as she takes hold of my hair in fisted fingers.She always does that. Tries to stop me as I lower my head to taste her, but her resolve soon dissolves and rather than trying to keep me at a safe distance she pulls me closer. Her hips rock steadily, her grip tightens on my hair and the fingers buried inside her. My tongue glides be

Marcel’s POVLeaving her with Imelda doesn’t sit right with me, I should be in there to give her comfort and protection. I know Imelda won’t hurt Evangeline, at least not in a physical sense. I’m more concerned about her heart and mind. My Eva tries to hide her softer side, she has been in survival mode since the day we met. Showing no weakness, that is what has kept her whole all these years. Deep down inside I know she cares, the things she has seen have changed her, hardened her exterior and taken away the innocence of youth. In her sleep she cries out for her mother which tears my heart in two, and all I can do us pull her closer and hope that my touch gives her some comfort. After all, it is my blood, my father and his monsters, who killed everyone she has ever loved.Eva will hold her own with Imelda. Of that I have no doubt. She will not show the cracks in her armour to anybody, she rarely lets her mask slip in front of me. It is what she carries inside that concerns me. She ke