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Cerian lay quietly upon the bed, wrapped up in exhausted dreams, her mind being unable to cope with the distress that the realm switching had upon her physically.  Her neck still had the slight soreness due to Wes’s ‘love’ bite as he called it.  Laying upon the black silken sheets, a single white candle burned at the bedside, illuminating her pale face with soft, flickering light, dancing off of her soft features.  Her small, lithe form was only wrapped up in the gown Wesley had supplied for her, and the sheets belonging to the bed.  A shadow crossed in the corner of the room, wisps of clothing and silk garments ruffling in the darkness.
There was a soft hiss, the small flame becoming extinguished, laughter floating about the unseen phantoms.  “It’s fresh blood…”  A hand reached out, long nailed, the delicate tips trailing over Cerian’s blissful, expressive face.  “A young woman… soft… Thom will be… elated.”
A small, devious face, like an imps, though frozen with timeless beauty, leaned in close to her, inhaling the sweet fragrance of her silky black curls.  “She is not yet fully tainted with the Blood Drinker’s accursed coldness.”  She trailed a finger along Cerian’s neck, feeling the pin prick’s upon the smooth skin, the other woman producing a soft ‘tsking’.
Another woman appeared, golden braids twisted about the crown of her head, watching the sleeping she-child with interest.  “She is young… perhaps too young to be brought over to this side…”  She grinned, leaning down and pressed her thin lips to the girls’ throat, inhaling the faint scent that lingered there, belonging to Wesley.  “The man tries to protect her… but he cannot hide her from Thom.”
The group laughed wickedly, their high keening causing Cerian to stir awake, crying out in terror as cold hands clenched about her limbs, hauling her out of bed half clothed and out into the cold night.  Cerian didn’t know what was going on, seized by sudden panic and fright, she attempted to fight off those clinging to her, feeling wings and tails brush against her.  Nails lengthened to claws, holding her.  As she opened her mouth to scream again, she felt a sudden slamming force of magic, causing her to gasp for air, and as she recollected herself for another terror shriek, she found that no sound escaped her.  She had gone, momentarily, mute.
Outside, rain lashed at her white body, the other fast moving beings doing nothing to prevent the on slaughter of cold iciness.  Thunder rumbled ominously, lightning igniting the sky in a blaze of torrent anger, causing the young immortal woman to cling more tightly to the hooked clamps that held her poised in the air.  Oh… Wes, damn it… what’s going on?  Is this part of the preparation?  She wasn’t as frightened as she should have been, shocked into docile approach to what was happening to her.  Thick looks of obsidian hair had broken free from the tight plait running along her back, a few strands wiping out to smack her in the face.
Eventually, they had come upon a gothic looking castle, towers soaring towards the dark heavens, the black eyes of windows peering back at her.  “Thom will be very pleased… hopefully.”
“Fresh blood always pleases Thom.”
The four females hovering about her giggled insanely as they landed gracefully and lightly upon a concrete terrace, ushering her inside with a flurry of wet garments and clawing hands.  “Thom!  Thom!”  Their poetic shrieks shrilled to the domed ceiling of the cathedral shaped building.  Light headed, Cerian blinked back water eyes as two oaken doors flew open, admitting them into the dark interior of yet another room.  Sitting upon a throne like structure, a darkly clothed man scrutinized her with pale blue, brooding eyes, beside him stood Wes.
“They could have been more considerate in bringing her here,” Wesley said bitterly under his breath, walking forward to meet the group woman, annoyance written clearly on his darkened features.  The women were all soaked by now, and Cerian look particularly the worse for wear.  He’d make sure there was a chance to get even with the bitches soon enough.
Perching off of Thom’s armchair, another woman had appeared, crimson curls cascading along her back as she raised an eyebrow at the whores circling about the girl, scattering as Wesley moved closer to them.  Even if they were the brides of the highest ranking male within the Colony, they were inferior to any male vampire that walked the earth.
Thom waved his hand, as if shaking off the question with a dark smile.  “At least they did not deliver her in pieces.”  He stood, the dark, black cloak draped over his shoulders flowing gracefully about his strong frame, following Wesley towards Cerian, who stood crouched down upon the floor, shivering with her arms about her form, rocking back and forth.  Thom raised an eyebrow, sneering slightly.  “I forget they cannot alter their temperature like us.”
“It will not matter soon,” Wesley responded.  “She will not longer feel cold.”
Thom raised an eyebrow, standing beside Cerian and nudging her lightly with the black tip of his boot, lips curling in distaste, revealing his lengthened fangs.  Outside, the rain beat against the black, stony walls, resounding within the fire lit room.  If I give my consent.  He added silently to Wesley, bending down and tilting the girls head up, so that her large, dark obsidian-sapphire eyes stared with fear into his own.  “State your name, child.”
As Cerian opened her mouth to respond, an odd choking croak emerged, her hands reaching up to her throat, clutching her neck.  Over head, a small giggle sounded above them, and Thom sighed impatiently.  “Jerrica… release her please.”  Turning to Wesley, he raised an eyebrow.  “Not very impressive, if you ask me.”
“There is more to her than she seems,” Wesley assured him confidently.  “She is not a weak woman,” he said, standing next to the older vampire but back far enough that he did not intrude upon the elder’s space.
Cerian inhaled sharply as she felt the spell released from her, causing her to choke softly before gasping for breath.  “Cerian…”  She whispered, closing her eyes and supporting her upped body with her hands, sitting with her legs tucked beneath her.  “Kali Cerian McCabe.”
Thom raised an eyebrow, looking at Wesley a moment before back to the woman, circling her smaller form slowly, taking in the soggy appearance.  Definitely not impress… she’s too frail to be considered even beautiful… “And Ms. McCabe… what does the extent of your magic consist of?”
Cerian swallowed, eyes widening fearfully, blinking back tears of fright, for within Council, she had not been allowed to study and practice magic, forbidden least she grow stronger than the others.  “None.”
His frown deepened.  “I see.  And what do your hobbies consist of?”
She licked her lips, eyes wide and hesitant, silence coming from the question, causing Thom’s grin to widen wickedly.  “I thought so.”
“She can be taught, Thom,” Wesley said in her defense.  “Many of those who are among our strongest started out in far worse condition than she.”
Thom glanced over at him tapping his chin thoughtfully.  “But they were willing to be taught.  She rebels against you.”  He reached down, twining her cold fingers about her dainty wrist and drawing it up, inspecting the knuckles thoughtfully.  Bruises marred the pale skin, evidence to her defiant nature.  “How do you expect to keep her under your control if she is so unwilling?”  He bared his teeth at Cerian as she tried to pry her hand away from the others grasp, swallowing tightly.
“She will learn,” Wes responded.  “She cannot survive if she is not taught.  I will not see her die.  She will learn,” he said once more, looking down at Cerian.
Thom laughed darkly, glancing over at him as he pulled Cerian to her feet, sweeping a hand along her waist to her hips, leaning down and brushing his lips against the smooth column of her throat, his other hand cupping the back of her skull as he slowly, and gently, placed a spell over her, causing her to go slightly limp against him.  Smiling at Wesley, Thom’s fangs extended.  “She has not been touched?  She is still pure?”
Wesley’s eyes flashed.  “She is pure.”
Tears sprung to Cerian’s eyes as she felt fangs brush her throat, her arms hanging limply at her sides.  Why are you letting him do this to me?  Her dark eyes stared pleadingly at Wesley’s face as the other male vampire nipped her throat playfully.  Blinking slowly, in confusion, she closed her eyes again, groaning softly when his fangs scrapped her sensitive skin.
Thom glanced up, eyes dark and serious as they watched Wesley.  “Shall I do the honors?”
“She has not yet made the first exchange,” he said.  “She hasn’t yet drank from another.”
“Shall I help you along the way, then?”  His grin challenged the other to deny him, his eyes sparkling darkly.  Over head, the hidden females cooed and giggled with excitement.
“Do it, love!  Do it for the sake of the child!”
“Her blood is rich… it is innocent.  Take it!”
“No need to ask the lesser male for permission!”
Still resting on the high backed chair, the woman raised an eyebrow, gliding forward, her movements easy and graceful.  “How do you know she will live after the first blood exchange?  Her body may not be able to under take the stress.”  Her own fangs wear revealed, ivory incisors that could cut through skin like a knife through cheese.
“She will survive,” Wesley said.  “Leave her to me and I will make sure of it,” he added.  “There is no need to distress her further.  I have been loyal to you my whole life,” he said, looking up at Thom.  “Grant me this if nothing else.”
Sighing softly, Thom retracted his fangs, releasing the young girl and watching her stumble across the floor.  “Yes, you have, and I have been grateful.  I expect to proceed with the first exchange tonight, Wesley.  No later, and no less.  This will see if she can survive.”  His smile was devious.  “And I’d take care of her purity, if I were you, leave my mark on her or you’ll have all the Harpies in this realm swooping down to claim your creation.”
“She will be well taken care of,” Wesley assured the older man, walking over to Cerian and lifting her easily into his arms.  Do not fight against me.  He looked down at Cerian, locking eyes with the girl and letting his thoughts drift easily through her mind.  For your safety’s sake, do not fight.
She fought back her tears, keeping her small fists locked in front of her, eyes lingering out the window, and though his words flittered through her mind, she really didn’t like fighting against him, unable to.  She just wanted to die, die with the rising of a glorious sun in unknown lands.
Thom’s smile was pasted back on his face, eyes sparkling darkly.  “Concordia was a handful at once.”  A few children and they all calm down if they do not after the first bite.
She will be no problem…  She only needs to learn our ways.  He walked with her in his arms to the doors that she had appeared through only a little while before.  Pushing them open, he walked out into the now calm night, the rain having stopped long before, though he had not taken the time to notice it indoors.  With a final glance back at Thom’s dark figure, and those dancing about him, he took to the air, Cerian held tightly in his arms.
She whimpered, her arms locking about his throat, her face buried in her arms, shaking, unwilling to face the darkness and the never ending drop the stretched out below them.  Behind them, she heard a loud cackling laugh, one of the female vampires that had brought her there in the first place.  Her breathing was coming in little rapid gusts, her chest rising and falling quickly, threatening to cause hyperventilation.
Relax he instructed, caring little about their extra guest as he flew with her toward his destination.  Once upon the ground again, he brushed a hand through her windswept hair, tilting her head up so he could look upon her face.
Her lower lip trembled, her eyes filling with tears and with fear.  “I want my papa.”  Her voice was tight and constricted, fighting back sobs that threatened to over power her.  She watched the expressions on his face, the impassiveness, the emptiness.  Would she be like that once she had been turned?  If she lived, she reminded herself gently.
“You may see him again,” Wes said, his tone comforting.  “But you must complete your transformation first, so you may be strong.”
She looked at him blankly, realizing for the first time that she was fighting a loosing battle.  “Why?  Why me?”
“You are special, Cerian,” Wesley said softly.  “I cannot tell you what I saw exactly, when I first laid eyes upon you… But it was there nonetheless.  I know… there is something about you.  I could not leave you in that place.  Here, you will be free.”
“Freedom?”  She gave a strangled, slightly hysterical laugh, tears trickling down her cheeks.  “I know not what to do with freedom if I have.  I will never have it, for I’m constricted in some ways, by manmade and natural boundaries.”  She looked away from him, slipping her chin from his fingers grasp.
“Not here,” he said.  “Here you may walk freely and never fear the daylight.  In time… you will grow strong enough that even the daylight will mean little to you.  But you must give it time.”
She didn’t meet his eyes, keeping them closed, willing her body to relax against his.  “I can see I’m not going to win… so I may as well give in, huh?”  She sighed softly, a strangled sound.  “Get it over with.”
“It is the exchange that must occur,” he murmured.  “Three.  I have had yours… now you must take mine.”
She closed her eyes, feeling sickened at the thought of taking blood from him, shuddering at the very thought, shifting uncomfortably in his arms.  “An exchange, huh?”  She licked her lips, shaking her head.  “I-I can’t.”
“You can,” he said, taking her inside once more.  He set her down upon the bed, his hand lingering for a moment at her cheek before sitting next to her.  “It will be easier the second time… and almost natural the last time.  Your body will grow quickly accustomed to the taste… it will become sweeter to you, necessary.  Instinct will guide you.”  He drew her close to him, and bent forward slightly, his own teeth tearing a deep gash across his wrist.  His other hand brushing through her dark hair, he held his wrist close to her lips, the blood trickling from the wound, a tiny rivulet running along his forearm.
She swallowed tightly, closing her eyes and pressing her lips to the wound, feeling the warm liquid trickle into her mouth and down her throat.  She gagged a moment at the first taste of the coppery, salty taste of blood, that held the faintest of bitterness, produced from his brooding nature.  Instinctively, she pulled away from him, when she had barely taken so much as a mouth full.
“You must continue,” he said, a coaxing manner entering his voice.  Though he allowed her to pull away, he didn’t allow her much further movement, his arm resting firmly behind her shoulders, his hand upon her arm.
She coughed a moment, heaving dryly, her stomach twisting but not ridding itself of his life’s blood.  Her organs clenched tightly and, closing her eyes, she suckled upon the wound obediently, tears trickling down her cheeks, loathing him for this.
Relax…  It will ease…  He took a deep breath himself, feeling the tide of his life rising.  Knew it was her… her drawing out the memories and sequences of his life as she drew away his own blood.  It was part of the transformation, part of the bond that even now began to form.  Slowly at first, and then it pass very quickly, dizzying speeds and only glimpses of images long past.  He saw the images float through his mind, and he closed his eyes, watching them as though watching a film, and knew that she saw them as clearly as he, if not more so.
His mother stood… leaning over a child as she tucked him into bed, a soft lullaby on her lips.  And then a flash, and suddenly it was a young boy with jet black hair, rolling around a field of grass with a young puppy.  Another flash, and someone was calling for dinner.  Another flash, a thunderstorm raged outside an open window, the soft blue curtains billowing away from the opened space.  A flash of lightning and suddenly the images came very fast, blurring, dizzying speeds and flashes of light and darkness, shadows, and then there he stood, an adult, mortal.  There was a city, darkened, lit only by the windows of numerous buildings.  And another stood across from him.  Wes remembered that moment only too well…  Remembered her voice, the bright strawberry blonde hair… and a flash and everything was gone, replaced only a thundering darkness.
He opened his eyes, breathless as he looked down at Cerian, watching her feed upon him, the instinct driving her now, even as the images faded.
Trembling, she drew away from him, still shaking, her hands wrapping about her throat, as if not daring to believe what she had just done.  Around her pale pink lips she wore the stain of his blood, which had dripped from her mouth when she had first began, her refusal.  But his memories had intrigued her, almost pulling her forward as though she was forced to feast upon him to continue the kaleidoscope of dazzling color that had been his life.  Her wide, dark sapphire eyes blinked once.
“You will be stronger, tomorrow,” he said, wiping the remaining blood from his pale wrist, standing weakly.
She scrambled away from him, her speed and agility having grown in just the short amount of time.  She blinked, amazed that she could actually see his form in the dark, her heart pounding loudly within her skull, deafening her.  She felt light headed and more than a little disoriented.  Clutching her head, she felt a sudden tightness in her belly, her skin hot and misted with slight perspiration.  Panting, she tore off her gown, left only in her pale blue panties, which were still damp from the rain.  Staring at him, she clutched the covers, hands flat on the sheets, not understanding the odd sensations flooding her, frightened.
“They will come and go… through the night,” Wesley said, walking across the room and sitting down tiredly into the armchair in the corner.
She closed her eyes, bunching the sheets into her fists, pulling them off suddenly, a jerking movement that sent pillows and all flying to the floor, her hands release the quilts quickly before she turned to stare at him, an almost primal and instinctive need consuming her completely.  Walking stiffly over to Wesley, she crawled into his lap, rubbing her body against him, moaning softly, her throat emitting small purring sounds.
“You are still young in our ways,” he said softly, raising a hand to cup her face.  “It is what drives us all that controls you now…  You will learn to control it in time.”
She cooed softly against her throat, her hands bunching in the material of his shirt, resting her head on his shoulder, body shaking.  “I-I’m twenty… one…”  She whispered softly, pressing her lips to his own, the blood that still covered her lips smearing off onto his own.
“Are you?” he said softly.  “You think you are knowledgeable enough to become a true woman this evening?”
She swallowed tightly, her fingers digging into his flesh as she rested her head against his chest, staring out the window, into the dark sky in which she could see forms dancing and dipping in and out of the sky.  “Yes.”  Her voice was only a thread of sound.
“You should be resting,” he murmured, placing a hand upon her shoulder.
She ran her tongue along his neck, tasting the salty texture of his skin, continuing to purr softly against him, her hands still clutching his shoulders violently.  “Now.”  She muttered, leaning back, her dark eyes a shimmering pool of light and mystery.
“Blood is certainly a good stimulant for you, isn’t it?” Wesley teased, taking her hand, twining their fingers together.  “I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret in the morning,” he said softly, leaning forward, his lips brushing against her throat, his other hand pushing the hair from her shoulder.
She murmured something softly beneath her breath, closing her eyes and arching her back into his, shivering and trembling.  Her hands squeezed his, her nails biting gently into the skin, her throat working against his mouth.  “No… no regret now…”  She pressed her back a little farther inwards, pressing her breasts against his chest, whispering his name gently.
“No regrets,” he whispered, his hand running over her arm, his teeth scraping lightly over her skin.
Droplets of sweat trickled off of her pale flesh, the skin quivering beneath his light touch.  “Now… now Wes…”
He lifted her up into his arms, carrying over to the bed.  He laid her gently upon the quilted surface, leaning over her.  His lips pressed to hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth, the faint taste of blood that remained there invigorating the senses.
She trailed her nails along his back, her tongue stroking his, slipping around within his own mouth, trailing along his teeth as she felt his incisors lengthen, goose bumps swamping her body, causing the area between her thighs to melt.  She tugged at his neck, trying to pull him harder against him, her teeth nipping his lip.
He slipped out of his own clothing, fumbling with the buttons on his clothes.  He tossed them aside, climbing into the bed fully with her, his body poised above her own.  Skimming a hand down her waist, he hooked a finger into the elastic of her underwear, pulling them down and over her legs, discarding them as well.
The fact that she was a virgin was very evident in the way she reacted towards him: her thighs grew together and trembled at his lightest touch, her skin was heated and flushed a soft pink tone, and her breathing was rugged.  She was elated, filled with euphoria, the soft purrs in the back of her throat tempting him, her hands sweeping along his body arousing him in their innocent exploration.
He slid a hand along her leg, up the outside of her thigh.  Their lips still pressed together, he skimmed his hand up her waist, fingers splayed out over the porcelain flushed skin and up to cup her breast.
Her fingers tangled in the glossy ebony strands of his hair, massaging his scalp with soft, gentle fingertips.  Do vampires feel love?  Perhaps the question was naïve and innocent, but she didn’t care, her lips to busy playing with his to voice it verbally.  She was just curious, wanting to find out details of the life she would soon lead.
Some do.  His hands squeezed her supple breasts gently, his thumb rubbing gently against the sensitive tip.  I do.
She moaned against his lips, arching her back against his, another tremble moving along her body.  She opened her eyes to gaze intently up at him, pulling their mouths away for a moment, running a finger slowly across her lips, taking up all the blood with it and dipping the finger into the most interior of her lips, sucking the rest off before returning to his mouth, resting her hand upon his own, trailing it along his arm, feeling the muscles laced beneath the flesh.
Do I frighten you?  His teeth nipped her bottom lip, a small bubble of blood escaping the tiny wound.
Her heart tightened and she gave a slight jump at the sharp pain before resettling beneath him, her heart beating a fast tempo.  Should you?  Her voice, for all its huskiness, its childlike seduction, there was the faintest note of seriousness in the tone as she looked up at him, pouting her bottom lip outwards to tempt him with the small simmer of crimson liquid.
No.  He pressed his lips hungrily against hers, the taste of her blood intoxicating.
She slid her tongue between his own, tasting the blood, her blood, in his mouth, frightened by the commitment she was making but unable to help herself.  There was a certain danger about it all that beckoned her, something that called to the dangerous part hidden within her.  When… when you came to Council… why were you there in the first place?  She arched her back against his, sliding her legs gradually, and hesitantly, apart.
I had traveled further than Council… It was merely an interval on my way home.  A stop I don’t usually make.  His hand slid down her waist, skimming lightly over the smooth skin of her thigh, movements feather-light, teasing with the tips of his fingers.
Her hands crept down his back before sliding upwards, tangling in his thick hair, moving back along his spine, stroking the muscled ribs with enthralling subtle fingertips, a touch intended to stimulate the sense of touch, to height his arousal.  Were… we an accident?  Her throat working in convulsive swallows, she felt his body’s harder press against her smaller one, fighting down the terror and panic as she finally opened her thighs for his reach.
Not an accident…  It was… fate…  His hand brushed her inner thigh, finger stroking lightly as he kissed her once more, deeply and passionately even as he lowered his body atop hers.
Her whole body quaked with the light touch, her arms locking about his neck, holding her close to him, partly because she was afraid she would flee in fear, and partly because it felt good… and strange, to hold someone close that loved.
Are you prepared… prepared for this? he questioned her, needing her confirmation even as he drew nearer her, and even as his own body hungered for their union.
She swallowed yet again, watching him, knowing that in this moment, her innocence would mean more to him than Erasmus.  Her tongue reached out, moistening her suddenly dry lips, wincing slightly as the roughness of her tongue scrapped across the small wound upon his mouth.  Yes…  Her voice was a soft plea.
Cerian… I love you…  He moved swiftly against her, holding her close as he thrust easily within her small form.
She cried out, her hands instantly flying to his chest in a spasm of pain, her face flinching from his intrusion almost at the exact time her body stiffened, fighting his invading body.  “Wait…”  The word was a gasp of discomfort, her nails digging into his back, broken away from the giddy, happy feeling she had been overflowing with earlier.
“Relax,” he whispered into her ear.  Relax your body.  Do not tense.  The pain will fade.
Quivering beneath him, she kept her face trained on his, the delicate beauty tightened with the mixed sensation of the pleasure-pain, panting forcefully as she willed her body to calm down beneath his.  Intense as it was, she accomplished her task, her lips trembling in an effort to fight back the tears.
His lips trailed over her jaw line, her throat, and down, slowly, between the valley of her breasts, his mouth bathing the silky skin in moist heat.
She stared up at the silent, moaning at the first touch of his mouth to her breast, causing her to strain against him, the ache between her thighs fading at the zesty warmth of his mouth upon her breast spread throughout her body.  “Wes…”  Her voice was the barest of sounds.
Are you all right? he implored softly, his tongue flicking across the sensitive peak of her breast, his lengthened teeth brushing against the peaked flesh.
I am now… Her throat began emitting low purrs yet again, her legs twining automatically about his waist, pulling him instinctively closer.  And are you?  her mental voice was a light tease, brushing against his mind like velvet.
With you here… I am complete.  His hands continued to roam over her body as he moved rhythmically against her, their bodies molded together as one.  His teeth scraped against her smooth, porcelain skin.
Pale face contorted with the slight discomfort known by the first connection of their bodies, she felt herself heighten to a peak of intense pleasure, another soft sound, a mixed moaning purr, escaping her throat.  Her mind clung to his desperately, using the tranquil pool that emitted from him as a source to keep herself in check and controlled.
I will… take care of you… always…  He thrust deeply within her, one hand brushing through the silky locks of her long, dark hair, himself amazed by the mere beauty of the woman before him.
Quiet suddenly, she gasped, arching her body against his, feeling her body tighten and shatter into something that caused small trembles and shakes to course along her form, a soft moan escaping her throat.  Even as her body relaxed from the first wave, she felt another one rise and fragment, holding her within the clutch of the pleasure induced high.  Out of sudden instinct, her small teeth bit into his throat, though not hard enough to draw blood.  An instinct to reprimand against his sexual actions.
Her body, still locked with his, slowly melted into a shimmering of embers.
He smiled, rolling slightly to the side so that he may lie beside her and not crush her with his weight.  He laid a hand gently upon her waist, holding her close even as he watched her face.
Her eyes were slightly confused even as she lifted a leg and rested it upon his hip, nuzzling against him.  I… I don’t understand… She looked up at him, a small frown on her soft mouth, the small red bump marking the wound Wesley had placed upon her.  We are… complete strangers… and yet I’ve just allowed you to take my virginity and take the first step of converting me into something more than human.
I told you… we met as fate had intended… perhaps this is all part of our fate.  I was drawn to you from the first time I saw you and yet I could never explain why.  And here we are…  I will protect you always, Cerian.  That is my promise to you.
But you told me… you loved me?  How is that possible?  She touched his cheek with trembling fingers before pressed her palm against the roughened flesh.  “I… I don’t understand…”  Tears sprung to her eyes, a helplessness swamping her, dark eyes searching his face for answers.
“I do not understand… any more than you,” he murmured, kissing her gently.  “But I cannot deny what I feel… I love you…”
I don’t know what I feel…  “I’m… I’m sorry…”  Cerian’s arms crept about his neck, leaning her head against his chest, brushing her hair out of her face, eyes closing a moment.
You need to rest now.  “Sleep,” he murmured, kissing her forehead.  “The day’s events are taxing, you will need a full night’s rest.”
To exhausted to really fight him, she did as he asked, reaching down numbly for the covers hanging off the side of the bed and pulling them across her naked body, falling into sleep almost instantly.

Description
Cerian lay quietly upon the bed, wrapped up in exhausted dreams, her mind being unable to cope with the distress that the realm switching had upon her physically.  Her neck still had the slight soreness due to Wes’s ‘love’ bite as he called it.  Laying upon the black silken sheets, a single white candle burned at the bedside, illuminating her pale face with soft, flickering light, dancing off of her soft features.  Her small, lithe form was only wrapped up in the gown Wesley had supplied for her, and the sheets belonging to the bed.  A shadow crossed in the corner of the room, wisps of clothing and silk garments ruffling in the darkness.
There was a soft hiss, the small flame becoming extinguished, laughter floating about the unseen phantoms.  “It’s fresh blood…”  A hand reached out, long nailed, the delicate tips trailing over Cerian’s blissful, expressive face.  “A young woman… soft… Thom will be… elated.”
A small, devious face, like an imps, though frozen with timeless beauty, leaned in close to her, inhaling the sweet fragrance of her silky black curls.  “She is not yet fully tainted with the Blood Drinker’s accursed coldness.”  She trailed a finger along Cerian’s neck, feeling the pin prick’s upon the smooth skin, the other woman producing a soft ‘tsking’.
Another woman appeared, golden braids twisted about the crown of her head, watching the sleeping she-child with interest.  “She is young… perhaps too young to be brought over to this side…”  She grinned, leaning down and pressed her thin lips to the girls’ throat, inhaling the faint scent that lingered there, belonging to Wesley.  “The man tries to protect her… but he cannot hide her from Thom.”
The group laughed wickedly, their high keening causing Cerian to stir awake, crying out in terror as cold hands clenched about her limbs, hauling her out of bed half clothed and out into the cold night.  Cerian didn’t know what was going on, seized by sudden panic and fright, she attempted to fight off those clinging to her, feeling wings and tails brush against her.  Nails lengthened to claws, holding her.  As she opened her mouth to scream again, she felt a sudden slamming force of magic, causing her to gasp for air, and as she recollected herself for another terror shriek, she found that no sound escaped her.  She had gone, momentarily, mute.
Outside, rain lashed at her white body, the other fast moving beings doing nothing to prevent the on slaughter of cold iciness.  Thunder rumbled ominously, lightning igniting the sky in a blaze of torrent anger, causing the young immortal woman to cling more tightly to the hooked clamps that held her poised in the air.  Oh… Wes, damn it… what’s going on?  Is this part of the preparation?  She wasn’t as frightened as she should have been, shocked into docile approach to what was happening to her.  Thick looks of obsidian hair had broken free from the tight plait running along her back, a few strands wiping out to smack her in the face.
Eventually, they had come upon a gothic looking castle, towers soaring towards the dark heavens, the black eyes of windows peering back at her.  “Thom will be very pleased… hopefully.”
“Fresh blood always pleases Thom.”
The four females hovering about her giggled insanely as they landed gracefully and lightly upon a concrete terrace, ushering her inside with a flurry of wet garments and clawing hands.  “Thom!  Thom!”  Their poetic shrieks shrilled to the domed ceiling of the cathedral shaped building.  Light headed, Cerian blinked back water eyes as two oaken doors flew open, admitting them into the dark interior of yet another room.  Sitting upon a throne like structure, a darkly clothed man scrutinized her with pale blue, brooding eyes, beside him stood Wes.
“They could have been more considerate in bringing her here,” Wesley said bitterly under his breath, walking forward to meet the group woman, annoyance written clearly on his darkened features.  The women were all soaked by now, and Cerian look particularly the worse for wear.  He’d make sure there was a chance to get even with the bitches soon enough.
Perching off of Thom’s armchair, another woman had appeared, crimson curls cascading along her back as she raised an eyebrow at the whores circling about the girl, scattering as Wesley moved closer to them.  Even if they were the brides of the highest ranking male within the Colony, they were inferior to any male vampire that walked the earth.
Thom waved his hand, as if shaking off the question with a dark smile.  “At least they did not deliver her in pieces.”  He stood, the dark, black cloak draped over his shoulders flowing gracefully about his strong frame, following Wesley towards Cerian, who stood crouched down upon the floor, shivering with her arms about her form, rocking back and forth.  Thom raised an eyebrow, sneering slightly.  “I forget they cannot alter their temperature like us.”
“It will not matter soon,” Wesley responded.  “She will not longer feel cold.”
Thom raised an eyebrow, standing beside Cerian and nudging her lightly with the black tip of his boot, lips curling in distaste, revealing his lengthened fangs.  Outside, the rain beat against the black, stony walls, resounding within the fire lit room.  If I give my consent.  He added silently to Wesley, bending down and tilting the girls head up, so that her large, dark obsidian-sapphire eyes stared with fear into his own.  “State your name, child.”
As Cerian opened her mouth to respond, an odd choking croak emerged, her hands reaching up to her throat, clutching her neck.  Over head, a small giggle sounded above them, and Thom sighed impatiently.  “Jerrica… release her please.”  Turning to Wesley, he raised an eyebrow.  “Not very impressive, if you ask me.”
“There is more to her than she seems,” Wesley assured him confidently.  “She is not a weak woman,” he said, standing next to the older vampire but back far enough that he did not intrude upon the elder’s space.
Cerian inhaled sharply as she felt the spell released from her, causing her to choke softly before gasping for breath.  “Cerian…”  She whispered, closing her eyes and supporting her upped body with her hands, sitting with her legs tucked beneath her.  “Kali Cerian McCabe.”
Thom raised an eyebrow, looking at Wesley a moment before back to the woman, circling her smaller form slowly, taking in the soggy appearance.  Definitely not impress… she’s too frail to be considered even beautiful… “And Ms. McCabe… what does the extent of your magic consist of?”
Cerian swallowed, eyes widening fearfully, blinking back tears of fright, for within Council, she had not been allowed to study and practice magic, forbidden least she grow stronger than the others.  “None.”
His frown deepened.  “I see.  And what do your hobbies consist of?”
She licked her lips, eyes wide and hesitant, silence coming from the question, causing Thom’s grin to widen wickedly.  “I thought so.”
“She can be taught, Thom,” Wesley said in her defense.  “Many of those who are among our strongest started out in far worse condition than she.”
Thom glanced over at him tapping his chin thoughtfully.  “But they were willing to be taught.  She rebels against you.”  He reached down, twining her cold fingers about her dainty wrist and drawing it up, inspecting the knuckles thoughtfully.  Bruises marred the pale skin, evidence to her defiant nature.  “How do you expect to keep her under your control if she is so unwilling?”  He bared his teeth at Cerian as she tried to pry her hand away from the others grasp, swallowing tightly.
“She will learn,” Wes responded.  “She cannot survive if she is not taught.  I will not see her die.  She will learn,” he said once more, looking down at Cerian.
Thom laughed darkly, glancing over at him as he pulled Cerian to her feet, sweeping a hand along her waist to her hips, leaning down and brushing his lips against the smooth column of her throat, his other hand cupping the back of her skull as he slowly, and gently, placed a spell over her, causing her to go slightly limp against him.  Smiling at Wesley, Thom’s fangs extended.  “She has not been touched?  She is still pure?”
Wesley’s eyes flashed.  “She is pure.”
Tears sprung to Cerian’s eyes as she felt fangs brush her throat, her arms hanging limply at her sides.  Why are you letting him do this to me?  Her dark eyes stared pleadingly at Wesley’s face as the other male vampire nipped her throat playfully.  Blinking slowly, in confusion, she closed her eyes again, groaning softly when his fangs scrapped her sensitive skin.
Thom glanced up, eyes dark and serious as they watched Wesley.  “Shall I do the honors?”
“She has not yet made the first exchange,” he said.  “She hasn’t yet drank from another.”
“Shall I help you along the way, then?”  His grin challenged the other to deny him, his eyes sparkling darkly.  Over head, the hidden females cooed and giggled with excitement.
“Do it, love!  Do it for the sake of the child!”
“Her blood is rich… it is innocent.  Take it!”
“No need to ask the lesser male for permission!”
Still resting on the high backed chair, the woman raised an eyebrow, gliding forward, her movements easy and graceful.  “How do you know she will live after the first blood exchange?  Her body may not be able to under take the stress.”  Her own fangs wear revealed, ivory incisors that could cut through skin like a knife through cheese.
“She will survive,” Wesley said.  “Leave her to me and I will make sure of it,” he added.  “There is no need to distress her further.  I have been loyal to you my whole life,” he said, looking up at Thom.  “Grant me this if nothing else.”
Sighing softly, Thom retracted his fangs, releasing the young girl and watching her stumble across the floor.  “Yes, you have, and I have been grateful.  I expect to proceed with the first exchange tonight, Wesley.  No later, and no less.  This will see if she can survive.”  His smile was devious.  “And I’d take care of her purity, if I were you, leave my mark on her or you’ll have all the Harpies in this realm swooping down to claim your creation.”
“She will be well taken care of,” Wesley assured the older man, walking over to Cerian and lifting her easily into his arms.  Do not fight against me.  He looked down at Cerian, locking eyes with the girl and letting his thoughts drift easily through her mind.  For your safety’s sake, do not fight.
She fought back her tears, keeping her small fists locked in front of her, eyes lingering out the window, and though his words flittered through her mind, she really didn’t like fighting against him, unable to.  She just wanted to die, die with the rising of a glorious sun in unknown lands.
Thom’s smile was pasted back on his face, eyes sparkling darkly.  “Concordia was a handful at once.”  A few children and they all calm down if they do not after the first bite.
She will be no problem…  She only needs to learn our ways.  He walked with her in his arms to the doors that she had appeared through only a little while before.  Pushing them open, he walked out into the now calm night, the rain having stopped long before, though he had not taken the time to notice it indoors.  With a final glance back at Thom’s dark figure, and those dancing about him, he took to the air, Cerian held tightly in his arms.
She whimpered, her arms locking about his throat, her face buried in her arms, shaking, unwilling to face the darkness and the never ending drop the stretched out below them.  Behind them, she heard a loud cackling laugh, one of the female vampires that had brought her there in the first place.  Her breathing was coming in little rapid gusts, her chest rising and falling quickly, threatening to cause hyperventilation.
Relax he instructed, caring little about their extra guest as he flew with her toward his destination.  Once upon the ground again, he brushed a hand through her windswept hair, tilting her head up so he could look upon her face.
Her lower lip trembled, her eyes filling with tears and with fear.  “I want my papa.”  Her voice was tight and constricted, fighting back sobs that threatened to over power her.  She watched the expressions on his face, the impassiveness, the emptiness.  Would she be like that once she had been turned?  If she lived, she reminded herself gently.
“You may see him again,” Wes said, his tone comforting.  “But you must complete your transformation first, so you may be strong.”
She looked at him blankly, realizing for the first time that she was fighting a loosing battle.  “Why?  Why me?”
“You are special, Cerian,” Wesley said softly.  “I cannot tell you what I saw exactly, when I first laid eyes upon you… But it was there nonetheless.  I know… there is something about you.  I could not leave you in that place.  Here, you will be free.”
“Freedom?”  She gave a strangled, slightly hysterical laugh, tears trickling down her cheeks.  “I know not what to do with freedom if I have.  I will never have it, for I’m constricted in some ways, by manmade and natural boundaries.”  She looked away from him, slipping her chin from his fingers grasp.
“Not here,” he said.  “Here you may walk freely and never fear the daylight.  In time… you will grow strong enough that even the daylight will mean little to you.  But you must give it time.”
She didn’t meet his eyes, keeping them closed, willing her body to relax against his.  “I can see I’m not going to win… so I may as well give in, huh?”  She sighed softly, a strangled sound.  “Get it over with.”
“It is the exchange that must occur,” he murmured.  “Three.  I have had yours… now you must take mine.”
She closed her eyes, feeling sickened at the thought of taking blood from him, shuddering at the very thought, shifting uncomfortably in his arms.  “An exchange, huh?”  She licked her lips, shaking her head.  “I-I can’t.”
“You can,” he said, taking her inside once more.  He set her down upon the bed, his hand lingering for a moment at her cheek before sitting next to her.  “It will be easier the second time… and almost natural the last time.  Your body will grow quickly accustomed to the taste… it will become sweeter to you, necessary.  Instinct will guide you.”  He drew her close to him, and bent forward slightly, his own teeth tearing a deep gash across his wrist.  His other hand brushing through her dark hair, he held his wrist close to her lips, the blood trickling from the wound, a tiny rivulet running along his forearm.
She swallowed tightly, closing her eyes and pressing her lips to the wound, feeling the warm liquid trickle into her mouth and down her throat.  She gagged a moment at the first taste of the coppery, salty taste of blood, that held the faintest of bitterness, produced from his brooding nature.  Instinctively, she pulled away from him, when she had barely taken so much as a mouth full.
“You must continue,” he said, a coaxing manner entering his voice.  Though he allowed her to pull away, he didn’t allow her much further movement, his arm resting firmly behind her shoulders, his hand upon her arm.
She coughed a moment, heaving dryly, her stomach twisting but not ridding itself of his life’s blood.  Her organs clenched tightly and, closing her eyes, she suckled upon the wound obediently, tears trickling down her cheeks, loathing him for this.
Relax…  It will ease…  He took a deep breath himself, feeling the tide of his life rising.  Knew it was her… her drawing out the memories and sequences of his life as she drew away his own blood.  It was part of the transformation, part of the bond that even now began to form.  Slowly at first, and then it pass very quickly, dizzying speeds and only glimpses of images long past.  He saw the images float through his mind, and he closed his eyes, watching them as though watching a film, and knew that she saw them as clearly as he, if not more so.
His mother stood… leaning over a child as she tucked him into bed, a soft lullaby on her lips.  And then a flash, and suddenly it was a young boy with jet black hair, rolling around a field of grass with a young puppy.  Another flash, and someone was calling for dinner.  Another flash, a thunderstorm raged outside an open window, the soft blue curtains billowing away from the opened space.  A flash of lightning and suddenly the images came very fast, blurring, dizzying speeds and flashes of light and darkness, shadows, and then there he stood, an adult, mortal.  There was a city, darkened, lit only by the windows of numerous buildings.  And another stood across from him.  Wes remembered that moment only too well…  Remembered her voice, the bright strawberry blonde hair… and a flash and everything was gone, replaced only a thundering darkness.
He opened his eyes, breathless as he looked down at Cerian, watching her feed upon him, the instinct driving her now, even as the images faded.
Trembling, she drew away from him, still shaking, her hands wrapping about her throat, as if not daring to believe what she had just done.  Around her pale pink lips she wore the stain of his blood, which had dripped from her mouth when she had first began, her refusal.  But his memories had intrigued her, almost pulling her forward as though she was forced to feast upon him to continue the kaleidoscope of dazzling color that had been his life.  Her wide, dark sapphire eyes blinked once.
“You will be stronger, tomorrow,” he said, wiping the remaining blood from his pale wrist, standing weakly.
She scrambled away from him, her speed and agility having grown in just the short amount of time.  She blinked, amazed that she could actually see his form in the dark, her heart pounding loudly within her skull, deafening her.  She felt light headed and more than a little disoriented.  Clutching her head, she felt a sudden tightness in her belly, her skin hot and misted with slight perspiration.  Panting, she tore off her gown, left only in her pale blue panties, which were still damp from the rain.  Staring at him, she clutched the covers, hands flat on the sheets, not understanding the odd sensations flooding her, frightened.
“They will come and go… through the night,” Wesley said, walking across the room and sitting down tiredly into the armchair in the corner.
She closed her eyes, bunching the sheets into her fists, pulling them off suddenly, a jerking movement that sent pillows and all flying to the floor, her hands release the quilts quickly before she turned to stare at him, an almost primal and instinctive need consuming her completely.  Walking stiffly over to Wesley, she crawled into his lap, rubbing her body against him, moaning softly, her throat emitting small purring sounds.
“You are still young in our ways,” he said softly, raising a hand to cup her face.  “It is what drives us all that controls you now…  You will learn to control it in time.”
She cooed softly against her throat, her hands bunching in the material of his shirt, resting her head on his shoulder, body shaking.  “I-I’m twenty… one…”  She whispered softly, pressing her lips to his own, the blood that still covered her lips smearing off onto his own.
“Are you?” he said softly.  “You think you are knowledgeable enough to become a true woman this evening?”
She swallowed tightly, her fingers digging into his flesh as she rested her head against his chest, staring out the window, into the dark sky in which she could see forms dancing and dipping in and out of the sky.  “Yes.”  Her voice was only a thread of sound.
“You should be resting,” he murmured, placing a hand upon her shoulder.
She ran her tongue along his neck, tasting the salty texture of his skin, continuing to purr softly against him, her hands still clutching his shoulders violently.  “Now.”  She muttered, leaning back, her dark eyes a shimmering pool of light and mystery.
“Blood is certainly a good stimulant for you, isn’t it?” Wesley teased, taking her hand, twining their fingers together.  “I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret in the morning,” he said softly, leaning forward, his lips brushing against her throat, his other hand pushing the hair from her shoulder.
She murmured something softly beneath her breath, closing her eyes and arching her back into his, shivering and trembling.  Her hands squeezed his, her nails biting gently into the skin, her throat working against his mouth.  “No… no regret now…”  She pressed her back a little farther inwards, pressing her breasts against his chest, whispering his name gently.
“No regrets,” he whispered, his hand running over her arm, his teeth scraping lightly over her skin.
Droplets of sweat trickled off of her pale flesh, the skin quivering beneath his light touch.  “Now… now Wes…”
He lifted her up into his arms, carrying over to the bed.  He laid her gently upon the quilted surface, leaning over her.  His lips pressed to hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth, the faint taste of blood that remained there invigorating the senses.
She trailed her nails along his back, her tongue stroking his, slipping around within his own mouth, trailing along his teeth as she felt his incisors lengthen, goose bumps swamping her body, causing the area between her thighs to melt.  She tugged at his neck, trying to pull him harder against him, her teeth nipping his lip.
He slipped out of his own clothing, fumbling with the buttons on his clothes.  He tossed them aside, climbing into the bed fully with her, his body poised above her own.  Skimming a hand down her waist, he hooked a finger into the elastic of her underwear, pulling them down and over her legs, discarding them as well.
The fact that she was a virgin was very evident in the way she reacted towards him: her thighs grew together and trembled at his lightest touch, her skin was heated and flushed a soft pink tone, and her breathing was rugged.  She was elated, filled with euphoria, the soft purrs in the back of her throat tempting him, her hands sweeping along his body arousing him in their innocent exploration.
He slid a hand along her leg, up the outside of her thigh.  Their lips still pressed together, he skimmed his hand up her waist, fingers splayed out over the porcelain flushed skin and up to cup her breast.
Her fingers tangled in the glossy ebony strands of his hair, massaging his scalp with soft, gentle fingertips.  Do vampires feel love?  Perhaps the question was naïve and innocent, but she didn’t care, her lips to busy playing with his to voice it verbally.  She was just curious, wanting to find out details of the life she would soon lead.
Some do.  His hands squeezed her supple breasts gently, his thumb rubbing gently against the sensitive tip.  I do.
She moaned against his lips, arching her back against his, another tremble moving along her body.  She opened her eyes to gaze intently up at him, pulling their mouths away for a moment, running a finger slowly across her lips, taking up all the blood with it and dipping the finger into the most interior of her lips, sucking the rest off before returning to his mouth, resting her hand upon his own, trailing it along his arm, feeling the muscles laced beneath the flesh.
Do I frighten you?  His teeth nipped her bottom lip, a small bubble of blood escaping the tiny wound.
Her heart tightened and she gave a slight jump at the sharp pain before resettling beneath him, her heart beating a fast tempo.  Should you?  Her voice, for all its huskiness, its childlike seduction, there was the faintest note of seriousness in the tone as she looked up at him, pouting her bottom lip outwards to tempt him with the small simmer of crimson liquid.
No.  He pressed his lips hungrily against hers, the taste of her blood intoxicating.
She slid her tongue between his own, tasting the blood, her blood, in his mouth, frightened by the commitment she was making but unable to help herself.  There was a certain danger about it all that beckoned her, something that called to the dangerous part hidden within her.  When… when you came to Council… why were you there in the first place?  She arched her back against his, sliding her legs gradually, and hesitantly, apart.
I had traveled further than Council… It was merely an interval on my way home.  A stop I don’t usually make.  His hand slid down her waist, skimming lightly over the smooth skin of her thigh, movements feather-light, teasing with the tips of his fingers.
Her hands crept down his back before sliding upwards, tangling in his thick hair, moving back along his spine, stroking the muscled ribs with enthralling subtle fingertips, a touch intended to stimulate the sense of touch, to height his arousal.  Were… we an accident?  Her throat working in convulsive swallows, she felt his body’s harder press against her smaller one, fighting down the terror and panic as she finally opened her thighs for his reach.
Not an accident…  It was… fate…  His hand brushed her inner thigh, finger stroking lightly as he kissed her once more, deeply and passionately even as he lowered his body atop hers.
Her whole body quaked with the light touch, her arms locking about his neck, holding her close to him, partly because she was afraid she would flee in fear, and partly because it felt good… and strange, to hold someone close that loved.
Are you prepared… prepared for this? he questioned her, needing her confirmation even as he drew nearer her, and even as his own body hungered for their union.
She swallowed yet again, watching him, knowing that in this moment, her innocence would mean more to him than Erasmus.  Her tongue reached out, moistening her suddenly dry lips, wincing slightly as the roughness of her tongue scrapped across the small wound upon his mouth.  Yes…  Her voice was a soft plea.
Cerian… I love you…  He moved swiftly against her, holding her close as he thrust easily within her small form.
She cried out, her hands instantly flying to his chest in a spasm of pain, her face flinching from his intrusion almost at the exact time her body stiffened, fighting his invading body.  “Wait…”  The word was a gasp of discomfort, her nails digging into his back, broken away from the giddy, happy feeling she had been overflowing with earlier.
“Relax,” he whispered into her ear.  Relax your body.  Do not tense.  The pain will fade.
Quivering beneath him, she kept her face trained on his, the delicate beauty tightened with the mixed sensation of the pleasure-pain, panting forcefully as she willed her body to calm down beneath his.  Intense as it was, she accomplished her task, her lips trembling in an effort to fight back the tears.
His lips trailed over her jaw line, her throat, and down, slowly, between the valley of her breasts, his mouth bathing the silky skin in moist heat.
She stared up at the silent, moaning at the first touch of his mouth to her breast, causing her to strain against him, the ache between her thighs fading at the zesty warmth of his mouth upon her breast spread throughout her body.  “Wes…”  Her voice was the barest of sounds.
Are you all right? he implored softly, his tongue flicking across the sensitive peak of her breast, his lengthened teeth brushing against the peaked flesh.
I am now… Her throat began emitting low purrs yet again, her legs twining automatically about his waist, pulling him instinctively closer.  And are you?  her mental voice was a light tease, brushing against his mind like velvet.
With you here… I am complete.  His hands continued to roam over her body as he moved rhythmically against her, their bodies molded together as one.  His teeth scraped against her smooth, porcelain skin.
Pale face contorted with the slight discomfort known by the first connection of their bodies, she felt herself heighten to a peak of intense pleasure, another soft sound, a mixed moaning purr, escaping her throat.  Her mind clung to his desperately, using the tranquil pool that emitted from him as a source to keep herself in check and controlled.
I will… take care of you… always…  He thrust deeply within her, one hand brushing through the silky locks of her long, dark hair, himself amazed by the mere beauty of the woman before him.
Quiet suddenly, she gasped, arching her body against his, feeling her body tighten and shatter into something that caused small trembles and shakes to course along her form, a soft moan escaping her throat.  Even as her body relaxed from the first wave, she felt another one rise and fragment, holding her within the clutch of the pleasure induced high.  Out of sudden instinct, her small teeth bit into his throat, though not hard enough to draw blood.  An instinct to reprimand against his sexual actions.
Her body, still locked with his, slowly melted into a shimmering of embers.
He smiled, rolling slightly to the side so that he may lie beside her and not crush her with his weight.  He laid a hand gently upon her waist, holding her close even as he watched her face.
Her eyes were slightly confused even as she lifted a leg and rested it upon his hip, nuzzling against him.  I… I don’t understand… She looked up at him, a small frown on her soft mouth, the small red bump marking the wound Wesley had placed upon her.  We are… complete strangers… and yet I’ve just allowed you to take my virginity and take the first step of converting me into something more than human.
I told you… we met as fate had intended… perhaps this is all part of our fate.  I was drawn to you from the first time I saw you and yet I could never explain why.  And here we are…  I will protect you always, Cerian.  That is my promise to you.
But you told me… you loved me?  How is that possible?  She touched his cheek with trembling fingers before pressed her palm against the roughened flesh.  “I… I don’t understand…”  Tears sprung to her eyes, a helplessness swamping her, dark eyes searching his face for answers.
“I do not understand… any more than you,” he murmured, kissing her gently.  “But I cannot deny what I feel… I love you…”
I don’t know what I feel…  “I’m… I’m sorry…”  Cerian’s arms crept about his neck, leaning her head against his chest, brushing her hair out of her face, eyes closing a moment.
You need to rest now.  “Sleep,” he murmured, kissing her forehead.  “The day’s events are taxing, you will need a full night’s rest.”
To exhausted to really fight him, she did as he asked, reaching down numbly for the covers hanging off the side of the bed and pulling them across her naked body, falling into sleep almost instantly.