Come to me

Milo cocked his head to the side, his smile dying on his lips. His expression was intense, and Elle had to bite her tongue to stop from sighing. He was right, he was somehow, inexplicably more intensely handsome than Max. The way he looked at her was as if he was looking right through her soul. She felt chilled, and hot, and like hiding under the car and preening for him all at the same time. She had never in her life felt anything remotely like this.

“Take a picture, it will last longer, and will definitely not be standing out here freezing waiting for you to say something.” She said sharply, too sharply. She didn’t want him to look at her too long; didn't want him to be disappointed.  A smirk crossed his face, and Elle instantly regretted saying anything, if he smiled at her, she didn’t know what she would do. Someone really, really should have warned her what she was walking into. He turned to Max, and said something to him in Dutch, Max sputtered a response back, and all the color left Milo’s face. Yup, here it comes, she thought, ‘this short hot mess is your mate...surprise.’ and then he would pass out in the snow in sheer shock to be cursed with her. She gritted her teeth, well best get the let down out of the way. They continued back and forth for a few moments in Dutch, and whatever Max was saying was clearly the wrong thing, slowly but surely aggravating Milo.

“Y...you let her…” Milo sputtered finally, rage and horror filling his voice as he whirled on his brother, “He found her?!” He bellowed at his brother. Followed by more furious Dutch, choice swears in English, and Max backing away from Milo in a way that led her to believe she was about to see a twin brawl in the snow. 

“I am so cold,” She mumbled, this day would never, fucking end.

“Jesus, what the hell am I doing?” Milo said, throwing his arms in the air, he turned to her, took a step toward her, stopped, reached his hand out, dropped it and then blankly stared at her. Okay, Elle thought, not exactly the reaction I was hoping for from the single sexiest man I have ever seen…

“I can’t do this,” Elle whispered looking between Max and Milo sadly. “I’m just too tired for this, can you just take me to a hotel?” She asked, turning to Max. 

“NO!” Max, Milo and Maeve retorted in unison. She jumped startled by the vehemency of tone particularly from Milo. 

“Please, don’t...don’t go.” Milo said softly, gently. 

“You don’t want me here,” She replied back. “Not that I blame you, if I were you and my batty ass family brought me, I think I would be equally disappointed.” She said simply.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“The whole soulmate thing...surprise, sorry I’m not...better.” She offered with an awkward smile. He gaped at her, utterly lost for words.

“You told her?” He asked Max, through gritted teeth.

“How else did you expect me to get her here?” Max asked reasonably.

“I could just murder you, you absolute ass!” Milo raged at him. 

“What! What did I do?!” Max yelled back, stomping his foot angrily.

“You don’t think it might be just the slightest bit of too much pressure to tell someone they are someone’s fucking soul mate?! To tell them they are MY SOULMATE?!” He screamed at his brother.

“You are being ridiculous, she’s fine with it, look,” Max said pointing at a visibly shaken Elle, “fine...okay she’s definitely not fine right this minute, but that’s probably more to do with the break in…”

“Break in?” Milo asked carefully, “You broke into her house?” a vein was visibly throbbing in Milo’s forehead, his eyes wild and glazed over with profound anger, but his voice was deadly calm.

“No! I would never break into her house, now you're just being crazy,” Max said, outraged “Hadeon broke into her place and messed it up…”

“HE MESSED UP HER PLACE?! AND JUST WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU WHEN THIS WAS HAPPENING?!” Milo looked unhinged at the moment, but in a perverse way still gorgeous, Elle thought deliriously. 

“I WAS WITH HER! PROTECTING HER, TRYING TO CONVINCE HER TO COME MEET YOUR SURLY ASS!!” He yelled back at his twin. 

“What are you two doing?” Ute said, seemingly materializing out of nowhere, Elle thought, inanely. She looked past her, and saw her own car. That’s right, she thought, Ute had driven Elle’s car here for her. 

“I...He...Moer! What the hell has happened?” Milo half screamed, turning to his mother.

“Yes son, by all means let’s discuss this outside in the freezing cold, while your mate shivers uncontrollably. An excellent end to her already deeply traumatizing day.” She told him coldly. She turned to Elle, “I see you’ve met Milo, I’m sorry the hype did not match the reality. My son doesn’t normally have a tantrum on his front driveway in his Pajamas at 4 in the morning. I promise I raised him better than to let his guests freeze, while he was busy fighting with his twin.”

“I...I need a drink. And a shower, and to go to sleep.” Elle said finally. “I can’t do this,” She said gesturing at Milo and Max, “right now. I have to make some calls to arrange coverage at my work, and I have to just...not be doing this.” She said simply, all the energy gone from her.  Maeve reached out to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders warmly.

“I’m so verra sorry lass, come on let’s get you inside and warmed up and into bed.” She said, leading her forward, past Milo, who Elle couldn’t bear to look at right then. And toward the house. She was shivering, her teeth clattering as they walked. 

“There’s a fire in the living room, Maeve.” Milo said from behind her, a shiver ran down Elle’s spine. 

“You have a room ready for her?” Maeve asked, looking over Elle’s shoulder at him, “She’s dead on her feet, Milo, she needs to sleep.” 

“Upstairs, the room to the left of the master bedroom is made up. I was expecting Naomi to come down this week, she had to postpone” He said, “Just take her in, and get her set up, Max and I will bring her things in.”

“Max already has my things,” Elle said softly, sadly. She was still clutching her two artbooks to her chest. Tears leaked down her cheeks, Elle averted her face down so no one would see. It was all a bit too much.

“I’m sorry zusje, I know you’ve had a long day, it’s almost done. You have been so brave, you are safe now.” Max said to her gently, she felt his warm hand on her shoulder. She swallowed hard, she would not fall apart, she would NOT fall apart! More tears fell down her face, she swiped at them angrily.

She walked quietly into the house, Maeve led her up the stairs, Elle kept her eyes down letting herself be steered. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other, she would think about everything else later. For now she just had to be alone for a few minutes, so she could cry in peace. Maeve opened the door to a bedroom, Elle didn’t look around she made a beeline to the bed, and sat down on it, her head down, she mumbled a thank you to Maeve. 

“Can I get you anything?” Maeve asked, her concern deep in her voice.

“No, I just want to be alone, please.” Elle said, her voice thick with unshed tears.  Maeve hesitated, and then nodded slowly, before retreating to the door.

“Shout out if you need anything, I’m just down stairs.” Maeve told her. Elle nodded her head, and waited until she heard the door close behind Maeve. Elle lay down on the bed, turning her face away from the door, and let the tears come. She wept, deep soul aching tears, stifling her sobs so no one could hear her. Pain lacerated her, she felt as if her heart hurt. Today was a very, very bad day, and it just seemed like it refused to end.

****

Milo paced around his living room, running a rough hand through his hair. He muttered in several languages, raging. Periodically he would stop, stare directly above him at the ceiling, absently rubbing a hand against his broad chest, over his heart. Max suspected his twin had no idea he was even doing this. Then he would mutter some more in a more sad subdued tone, and continue with his pacing. Which would then seem to enrage him again, and back to his angry tirade. This had been going on for at least 20 mins, and Max wasn’t sure if he was amused or upset. His brother was known for his even, calm temperament, nary a hair out of place in his orderly neat life. It was almost comical now to see the disheveled confused muttering man before him, but mostly it was disturbing. It was no wonder their mother had retreated from the room, pleading exhaustion, leaving him to tend to his twin.

“She’s crying,” Maeve said, sighing as she planted herself on the couch beside Max. Milo instantly stopped pacing, and turned to the both of them as if he was only just noticing he wasn’t alone. 

“S...she’s...fuck.” Milo groaned, “My mate is crying,” He started toward the stairs before Maeve jumped up and stood in front of him.

“And just where do you think you're going, brathair?” Maeve asked him slowly, carefully. Milo looked half wild at the moment.

“My mate is crying,” He told her, enunciating each word, through clenched teeth. “Where do you think I’m going?”

“Listen, she will no’ thank you for seeing her like this, the lass is much too proud to be wanting anyone to see her cry.” Maeve told him, “She needs some space…”

“Get out of my way Maeve,” Milo cut across her, his tone deadly calm, even as his hands shook with reaction. His mate was hurting, and he would be damned if anyone kept her from him.

“She’s right Milo.” Max added, moving to stand beside his wife. “She’s so very fierce, she wouldn’t want her first real interaction with you to be with her in tears.”

“My. Mate. Is. CRYING!” He half yelled at them, “Get the fuck out of my way.” He hissed in a low, dangerous tone.

“And what exactly are you going to do about it?!” Max yelled back at him. “‘Hi, I’m your soulmate, remember me from outside, screaming at my twin, letting you freeze after you’ve been attacked and had your home broken into?...Want a hug?’ You may remember her Milo, but she doesn’t remember you! You’re just some strange man, that three equally strange people told her was the man she’s destined to be with, and believe me she thinks we are all insane. You haven’t exactly made yourself seem like the voice of reason!” 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do about it, okay!” He threw back at his twin, “If you three morons hadn’t told her…”

“She wouldn’t have come with us Milo! And then what? You would have seen what was left of her after Hadeon was done with her!” Max screamed back at him. Rage ignited in Milo’s eyes, he reached out so fast Max didn’t even realize what was happening until his brother had him pinned against the wall, his fist cocked back. Max flinched, bracing himself, Milo’s fist connected hard with the wall beside his head, punching a hole through the wood paneling.

“Fuck you!” Milo hissed, jerking him back hard into the wall, his head bouncing off it. Max stared at him slack jawed, he had never seen his brother this angry, ever! Not even when he had dislocated his shoulder as children. He turned to look at his wife, Maeve was pale as a ghost, awestruck at the sight. Out of all of his brothers Milo was the calmest, the most rational. He never lost his temper, certainly not against his own family, and especially not against Max. Even in childhood, rarely had their arguments resulted in physical altercations. Milo was almost infuriatingly practical. How often had Max tried in vain to provoke reactions out of his twin, needling him ceaselessly to see him lose his cool? And yet never once as adults had he seen this sort of display of rage. 

“Milo, what are you doing?” Maeve asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper. Milo looked up at her, he blinked slowly as if he had just realized what he had done. He released his brother, and backed away. He put his head in his hands, a sound like a groan escaped him. 

“I...I don’t know…” He said finally, he collapsed back onto the couch, he looked up at both of them with a look of pure agony on his face. “She’s crying, she’s hurt, and I can’t do anything! I couldn’t even keep her safe! He almost had her! If you hadn’t stumbled on her in that alley….” His voice shook with emotion, horror marring his handsome face. “I almost lost her before I even found her.”  Max and Maeve exchanged an alarmed look behind him. Maeve nudged her head toward the couch, Max grimaced but nodded. Best not to leave him alone in this state. 

“You have to pull yourself together, you are no good to her like this.” Max told him firmly, sitting down beside his brother, albeit as far out of his grasp as he could get on the couch. “She’s okay, we got to her in time. The worst of it is over now.” He told him reassuringly, even though he himself was shaken by the events of the day. If he had been only a few minutes slower...no that didn’t bear thinking about. 

“She’s so...small.” Milo said finally. Comparatively to the rest of their family Max supposed she was that. Their brothers were all over 6 feet tall, with Julian being a full inch taller than the twins. Their mother and sister were both 6 feet, with the smallest member of their family being their 17 year old sister Naomi who was still a staggering 5’10, a giantess compared to petite Elle. Even his brothers’ wives were tall, imposing women. Fiore looked like an amazon warrior, and Adele looked every inch the ex-soldier that she was. Maeve herself was 5’11! Elle looked like a delicate doll beside her. 

“Fierce, though. She called me an asshat, and refused to come here without her things.” Max told his brother with a smirk, remembering her tirade against him. She may look delicate, but she had fire inside of her. 

“She said she would no’ be coming to you with her ‘dick in her hand’.” Maeve added, choking on a laugh at the memory.

“She said that?” Milo asked, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement. “She’s got a mouth on her, no?”

“You have no idea! The lass is inventive with a turn of phrase. You should have heard her cursing at Max for no’ warning her about how wealthy you are.” Maeve told him, “Called him everything but his name!”

“Is that what she was so angry about?” I could hear her screaming from the house, that's why I came to investigate.” Milo said.

“Oh mostly that, somewhat also because I didn’t happen to mention what you looked like to her.” Max added nonchalantly.

“Oh she was ready to throttle him, when she saw you.” Maeve agreed, giggling despite herself. “I’ll eat my hat if that girl doesn’t find you bluidy gorgeous.” She told Milo. 

“She spent hours with him,” Milo said dismissively, “We are basically Identical.” Milo knew he was a handsome man, but he wasn’t conceited about it. It was a bit hard to feel too deeply about it when another shared his face. Until Maeve they had been treated rather interchangeably among interested females. 

“She did no’ look at him the way she looked at you, that’s for damn sure.” Maeve said, “I would have clawed her eyes out if she did!” She informed them haughtily. Milo felt a trill at the statement, she preferred him? She had better! Or he would thrust a paper bag over his twin’s head!

“She was fair, undressing you with her eyes,” Max agreed. 

“You are both exaggerating,” Milo replied, trying and failing to hide his pleasure at the idea. So his mate found him attractive? Good! He thought, because the sight of her had stolen his breath.  

“And you! You were looking at her like she was stroopwafel!” Max told him, heartened by his brother’s responses.  “I’m surprised you didn’t drool!”  Milo had to admit his twin wasn’t wrong about his reaction. His legs had almost gone out from under him when had gotten a look at her. For as long as he could remember he had known that she was out there, somewhere, waiting for him to come find her. To say he had been curious about what she looked like would be an understatement. He wasn’t superficial, and he hadn’t been overtly concerned with her features, he knew he would find her attractive as their soul bond would draw him to her. But her honey brown skin, her big chocolate brown eyes, and full red lips were enough to make him weak in the knees. 

“She’s so delicate,” Milo said with a soft smile,almost absently “I could just scoop her up,” 

“I wouldn’t advise that, she would likely kick you swiftly in the klootzak,” Max said with a grin, “She’s a brave little thing, full of piss and vinegar.” 

“Oh aye, she looked like she wanted to do something to his Klootzak,” Maeve said rolling her eyes, “I’m neigh unsure it was kicking it.”  

“If you can stop discussing my klootzak,” Milo began, “It’s just slightly disconcerting coming from my sister-in-law.” 

“Prude,” Maeve said, sticking her tongue out. 

“I’m not sure I’m okay with this either,” Max added, with a look of sham-alarm. 

“Prudes both of you,” She retorted drily, “Julian would no’ mind a leisurely chat about his klootzak.” 

“Not any more interested in talking about my brother’s klootzak,” Milo informed her, biting back his amusement at her antics, Maeve was very much the favorite of his sister in laws.  “Tell me more about her...Elle” He said, savoring her name, enjoying the feeling of it on his tongue. How long had he waited to know her name?

“Don’t be greedy, brathair, give her time to tell you about herself,” Maeve said to him, “I will no’ rob you of the chance to discover who she is.”  She said seriously.

“You should get some sleep,” Max said, “You have a long day of wooing ahead of you, and I sincerely doubt she will give in easily.” 

“She really does think we are insane,” Maeve agreed. “But she senses something in us, and in you, I saw her aura radiate when she met you, she knows it’s you, but she hasn’t accepted it.” 

“I wonder what my Aura looked like,” He thought aloud, inside he felt like fireworks had erupted in his very soul, sheer excitement and joy bursting within. Until of course he had understood the severity of their situation. The thought sobered him, he had to keep his wits about him, if for no other reason than to keep her safe from the danger she didn’t even fully comprehend yet. 

“Your Auras reached for each other,” Maeve responded softly, “It was….beautiful,” She said dreamily. A slow shutter passed through her as she looked at Milo, a warning in her eyes. “When two souls so bound together touch, there is a ripple of energy. He may feel it, and there is no telling what he will do once he does.”

“We will burn that bridge when we cross it,” Max said with an easy grin, and if either his wife or brother noticed it didn’t reach his eyes, they didn’t say it. 

****

He looked at the destruction he’d wrought, his fury barely abated, he wished it had been her pretty little body he had thrown into the wall and not her dresser. Wished that it were the clothes on her body he had ripped apart and not just her things. Everything she is, everything she has was his. She was his! She has always been his, lifetime after lifetime she has been his, and every single time the whore had left for him. The usurper, the trickster, the fucking thief! He had been planning this moment for so goddamn long! Since the moment he’d been old enough to comprehend these memories, he’d known he had to find her first! Now all his carefully laid plans were ruined, RUINED fucking again!

He takes  what belongs to me?! She gives it to him so willingly?! Infuriated again, he started to shred the very sheets off her bed, tearing them in his hands. Bitch! Whore! MINE!!! YOUR FUCKING MINE!!! She had been in his grasp, he had her, had held her worthless throat in his fingers, had been about to take from her what was his due, and then…Ronan and her son…was that the one? Was that who he was this lifetime? You always come back so pretty for her, so appealing the better for which to take what belongs to me!!

But it didn’t feel like him, didn’t carry the same sensation…his mind, a blaze of fury and scrambled enraged thoughts he concentrated now, holding onto the thread of his self-control, the pieces of the story he has known his whole life. When she was his, the first time, promised to him, innocent and pure. Untouched, meant and destined for him, her pale skin and red hair, gray eyes as deep as a storm, no girl so beautiful as her. She was meant for him, always, always meant for him…

They present her to him, tiny delicate fine boned, her witchy hair and eyes might be considered off putting to some but she is exactly as was promised to him by the crone.

“Lord Hadeon, might I present to you my daughter Princess Laila?” The great king announces, holding his hand out to take his young daughter’s hand in his. She comes to her father smiling, one of her front teeth is missing. 

“She will…grow into her beauty,” Her mother mutters to Hadeon, but he is not listening. Grow into her beauty? What a stupid thing for such a vapid bitch to say, the child is perfection, she will only rot from this point forward, like a precious delicate flower becomes sullied with time. 

“How old is the girl?When will she be able to bear my brother’s heirs?” Hadrian asks, Hadeon rolls his eyes at that. He could not be less interested in that answer.

“A few years yet, she is only 7.” Her mother mutters, Hadrian looks at Hadeon arching an eyebrow at him. Acting as if he has a choice, acting as if it is a decision they’d made together rather than one he’d forced on him. Hadeon feigns disinterest, knowing any other response would either please or anger his brother too much to bear. The latter could mean his death, the former taking what little dignity he has left. 

“She will suffice,’ Hadrian says coldly. “My brother will wed her, and our alliance will be sealed, make the arrangements, we will leave with her in a week.”

“Uh, this is…” The mother begins alarmed looking at her husband in panic.

“This is not our custom,” The king says simply, meeting Hadrian’s eyes calmly, almost unnervingly. Given Hadrian’s reputation it is truly impressive that the king has the audacity, this alone may well spare his life, his brother so enjoys his games, Hadeon thinks. 

“And what is your custom?” Hadeon asks, lips twitching to see his older brother being defied in such a manner, that too over a worthless girl-child. He looks at him, hoping his brother can read his mirth. Hadrian’s cold dark eyes promise much retribution, but not death and a man can not live on bread alone after all, spite and vitriolic rebellion the sweetest of accompaniments. 

“We pledge troth before the age of puberty, and you will wed after her first blood.” The king says calmly, “This is not for negotiation, this is the way it is.”

“And when can I expect her first blood?” Hadrian asks, hand underneath his chin, eye blazing with amusement. Lucky for the King it seems he’s caught the emperor in a playful mood, though how far and for how long remains to be seen.

“Do I look like a midwife to you Emperor Hadrian?” The king hisses, “How in the hell should I know?” Hadeon laughs at that, unable to control himself. His brother turns to him, glaring. 

“He has a point brother,” Hadeon says, smiling, both hands up in surrender, “It matters little, we have much to do in the next few years, what is the point in taking her if she is of no use yet?” Hadrian arches a brow and shrugs as he considers.

“Very well, we accept your terms, the troth will be pledged, and dowry paid.” He tells the king, then with a blistering and blinding speed, he forces the king against the wall, arm against his throat, blade pressed to his jugular. “I care little for these dalliances and customs, the next time you speak out of turn with me King or no, you will widow your wife, and whore your daughter, do you understand me?” He demands. The king elicits no reaction.

“Hadrian, I grow tired of your threats,” The king says, sighing as if he were bored. “If you wish for this alliance, then let us move forward with no blood or ill will, if not…” He lets his sentence trail. Though he seems stoic and fearless, Hadeon senses the stench of terror roiling from the king, and he tilts his head consideringly. The little girl’s sobs draw his attention, and as he looks at her something strange happens in his chest. A foreign feeling fills him, of…mercy, compassion, of…indulgence, he does not wish for her to witness her father’s death, to see the sweetness of her innocence die in her pretty storm eyes. 

“Release him brother,” Hadeon whispers never taking his eyes off the girl, “Let us make this alliance and arrangements and be on our way,”  an eerie feeling  creeps down his spine as the girl looks at him with a mix of fear and confusion in her unusual eyes, they flash from his face to behind him, and Hadeon turns to see what she is looking at. Behind the curtains he sees just for the briefest of moments a small dark haired boy, before he retreats further back, a flash of his golden eyes. Hadeon frowns as he looks from the boy to the girl, her instant panic, so much stronger than her reaction to her father’s potential demise. Interesting…

Hadrian growls angrily in their language, and Hadeon chooses to ignore him. His psychotic drabble is getting old, fuck this king, fuck this land, fuck this alliance…but this girl…this girl…this girl is something. For in that moment when she had looked up at Hadeon he had felt it in his chest…the softest of whisperings, stirrings…SHE IS MINE…