PART TWENTY-TWO

Marco unbuckled his safety belt, and turned to face Tess. Only the dim glow from the dashboard illuminated them, yet he could see that she gripped her knees tightly with both hands, as if bracing for something.

He’d pulled into the driveway of their compound, and driven a small distance up the gravel road. Once the security gate had shut automatically behind them, he’d shifted the Suburban into park, and told her he wanted to talk to her for a few moments before they headed up to the cabin.

So, now she faced him apprehensively, her mouth drawn in a tight line as she waited for him to speak. He closed his eyes a moment, trying to still the restless spinning of his thoughts. Earlier, she’d asked what he wasn’t telling her, and now that he was ready to answer that question, he wasn’t even sure where to begin—nor was he certain just how truthful he really wanted to be tonight.

"Tess," he began uncertainly, rubbing his tired eyes. It was well past midnight now, but despite his physical exhaustion, his senses were keenly alert. "There’s something I want to make sure you understand…something I should have explained months ago." He paused, meeting her keen blue eyes in the darkness, and for a moment couldn’t even speak, he was so shaken by their azure depths. Whenever their eyes locked just like this, he felt electricity shimmer between the two of them.

"I…don’t want you to think that I keep pushing you away just because," he paused, wishing this didn’t feel so difficult. "I feel you distract me." There. He’d gotten the words out, had made himself more vulnerable with her than ever before.

"Then why?" She whispered, running her hand nervously down the length of her ponytail. She almost never wore her hair loose anymore, not since he’d drawn the line between them months ago. Now, it was always pulled back, almost severely so—and he’d often wondered why--especially because he loved it flowing freely over her shoulders so much.

"I took vows," he confessed in a hushed voice. "What I am…what I’m part of, it’s a sacred order, Tess. It’s the highest honor I could have ever imagined," he stared down at his hands for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain what it meant for him to serve his king and queen, to be the only one assigned exclusively to them?

"What kind of vows?" Tess questioned, wrinkling her blonde brows in confusion.

"R’thasme siet falne," he breathed reverentially. He’d not spoken the words aloud since the day they’d inducted him into the unit, and the hair on the nape of his neck bristled at his quiet pronouncement.

"What?" Tess cried, shock apparent in her voice. "What language is that?" Yet he could tell she suspected already, and he smiled faintly at her surprise in hearing her own ancestral tongue.

"Antarian," he explained gently.

"You speak that?" Her eyes widened in amazement.

"Serena taught me some," he explained quietly. "It’s not a difficult language, actually. I could teach you if you’d like."

"It sounds so beautiful…especially the way you just spoke those words."

"They mean ‘Dying to self, in order to protect those most worthy.’"

Pain etched her features at his explanation, at what they obviously implied about their nascent relationship. "Like Max and Liz…" she offered in a deflated tone.

"Yes, like Max and Liz," he agreed, looking away from her into the darkened woods ahead of them. "Especially in my case, since I serve them personally…"

"But you’re worthy, too," she argued, her voice so quiet, he might have missed it apart from the silence that enveloped them.

"Ah, but see…that’s the catch. Because of my vows, the royal family must always come before myself…and that’s why I cannot bond with anyone, Tess."

She was silent a long moment, considering his words, and he stared at her hands folded neatly in her lap, longing to take them within his own.

"That’s not fair," she shook her head slowly, chewing on her lip. "Not to you…or me."

Marco hesitated a moment because there was something else he definitely wanted to share with her—something he needed for her to know. He wrestled desperately with the words that had already formed within his mind, and made a firm decision to press ahead, as unnerving as it was to him. He reached tentatively for her hand, cradling it within his own, and stroked his thumb across her knuckles for a long moment.

"Do you remember when you asked why this couldn’t just be something casual between us?" He questioned gently.

She nodded and he saw her swallow hard--she was as frightened of this moment as he was.

"Don’t you see that this can only lead one place for me,Tess? And if we so much as take a step in the direction where my heart is leading me…"

He shook his head, closing his eyes against the overwhelming emotions this moment had wrought within him.

This could only end one place, with our bonding completely…becoming life mates. He couldn’t say the words, they came at too great a price.

"I’d always put you above them, I know it," he finally managed to say, his heart hammering painfully. "And that’s the problem."

She squeezed his hand tightly within her own small one, and he marveled at how very delicate and lovely even her hands were to him.

"But I serve them as ardently as you do." Tess argued quietly. "In bonding, our powers would blend, Marco…haven’t you felt the way our gifts almost seem to join at different times?"

Marco bowed his head swiftly, and Tess could see that indeed he had felt that exotic pull between them…how something beyond their understanding had been evolving between them.

"You have," she cried quietly, clasping his hand within both of her own, her words rushing out. "I know things all the time now, Marco…things about you. I’m not intuitive—yet suddenly I’m feeling your gift within me."

His eyes flew upward, their dark depths widening in amazement. She thought again how absolutely beautiful their ebony depths were to her, the way his long, sooty lashes fanned upward. She suddenly wished very much he’d offer her at least the smallest of kisses this night.

And yet he simply sat there, staring at her in disbelief, and she watched as sadness mingled with amazement in his features.

"Sometimes lately, I get these visions and images, especially when we’re fighting together," he agreed, staring away from her again, his eyes searching all around him. "It’s almost like I could project them if I wanted to."

She leaned much closer toward him, and without even realizing it, pressed his hand against her heart. "Don’t you think you’re feeling that for a reason?" She was urgent, desperate to make him see what she knew was true. That what she’d proclaimed months before about their being called to one another was true. "We would be stronger together, you’re just afraid."

"I am not," he declared forcefully, pulling his hand free from her own. A quiet sob escaped her lips as she sensed him begin to close himself off again. Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden, and she knew that at the slightest provocation, she might well come undone in this moment. Too much emotional and spiritual tension had awakened between them in the past moments—he couldn’t simply shut down again.

Marco turned away from her, facing forward in his seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He seemed to be battling something very powerful within himself, as he sat beside her silently. Finally he relaxed a bit, yet still faced away from her, refusing to meet her gaze.

"R’thasme siet falne," he whispered hoarsely. "Those were the vows, Tess…and they’re irrevocable now. I’m the property of my king and queen, not my own."

Tess had a sudden vision of Marco’s hand, and the hazy image began to gain clarity within her mind. Why would she have seen his hand? What could it mean?

On raw instinct, she reached for his right hand, where he clutched the steering wheel so tightly. He resisted, and yet she pried more forcefully until he relinquished, allowing her to cradle his wrist right within her open palms. He turned in his seat again, facing her, as she stared down at his open wrist. This was the key somehow, she knew it, as she traced her fingers lightly against his rapidly beating pulse.

She stared down at his dark skin, just feeling the intricate veins beneath her fingertips, and she heard him gasp sharply.

"Right here," she whispered, trusting the sudden voice within her. Marco’s voice, guiding her. "This is why, right here. Why you refuse to love me."

"No," he cried in a broken voice. "Not refuse to love you…no. Refuse to take you as my life mate, Tess."

"What is it? Why is this so important?" She demanded in confusion. She didn’t understand why his wrist was the explanation for all his avoidance of her.

He traced his own fingers lightly across the exposed skin, brushing his fingertips against hers, and was silent for a moment. He drew a shuddered breath in, and seemed about to speak, but instead blew the breath out heavily. She raised her eyes tentatively, and found him staring at her.

"They branded me," he whispered huskily. "When I swore my vows. I’m forever marked by what I am."

"Branded you?" Tess cried in disbelief, not understanding what he meant at all. She saw nothing but his lovely olive skin beneath her fingertips.

"I have a royal seal, like Max’s…it’s given as a symbol of our charge as protectors."

Something about his words made her extremely uncomfortable, as truth came sharply into focus. They’d branded him as a symbol of the fact that he no longer belonged to himself, just as he’d been telling her all along. He belonged to his unit, to the royal family…to everyone but her. No wonder he’d kept arguing that he could never be hers.

She wanted to see this mark…needed somehow to confront it with her own eyes.

"Show me," she urged, her voice breaking, as tears finally spilled down her cheeks.

"Oh, Tess," he breathed, reaching to wipe her tears away with his thumb. "Sweet, sweet, Tess. I didn’t want to hurt you."

She shook her head in acknowledgment, but the tears just kept flowing, forming hot rivulets against her skin. She saw anguish instantly fill his eyes, regret that he’d caused her pain.

He cupped her face gently within his hands, and drew her toward him. He kissed her cheek, where the tears flowed. "I keep hurting you and it’s the last thing I want."

She turned toward him, grazing her lips against his softly, and for a moment he remained completely still against her, frozen like that. He was deliberating, confused—she could feel it. And then slowly his lips parted, and as before she was amazed at how incredibly shy his kisses were, so surprising in someone as brave and bold as Marco.

They kissed slowly and delicately—not with heated passion, but with tears born of regret. He reached behind her, and she felt him toy with her hair clasp until her hair fell loosely across her shoulders. For a moment, he pulled away from her and just stared, his eyes sweeping across her features and her long hair. He drank her in with his eyes, such appreciation for her shining in his expression.

"Oh, you are too lovely to hide, sweet Tess," he breathed, shaking his head slowly. "Please don’t do that anymore."

He’d seen into her heart, had known that she’d wanted to strangle some part of her femininity these past months…the months when he’d been turned away from her.

Marco ran his hand down the length of her tresses, threading his fingers deliberately through her hair, and his eyes flared with undisguised passion. And yet she sensed there was more he needed to share with her tonight…something still very much unsaid. She felt it pressing against her mind, just as heavily as it did against his own.

She stared up at him, studied his graceful black eyebrows and the way they arched, just drank in all his beautiful features…his single dimple that appeared even now as he chewed his lip.

The moment was shot through with such palpable energy, it felt like ungrounded electricity between them.

How could he tell her the rest? What he most wanted was to take her back into his arms, and damn everything he’d just told her…to lead her inside the cabin tonight and make love to her for so long, that afterwards there’d be no doubt who he belonged to.

And yet, he knew she was the only one who could help him—had felt it all evening. So she had to know everything tonight.

He let his hand drop from where he’d been slowly stroking her hair, the way he’d been willing her to feel all the love he held for her in his heart--had been hoping she could sense it, just as she had perceived so many other things within him recently.

"There’s something else you must know about me," he began, dreading the revelation he was about to share, how very exposed he already felt about it.

She nodded encouragingly, staring at him with eyes slightly swollen and red from her tears.

"When I was a small a child, a boy really," he began hesitantly. Was he really ready for her to know his darkest secret?

"Well, I had a bit of a problem, something quite disturbing really," he continued awkwardly, and Tess wondered how whatever he was about to share could be relevant to their current conversation. She noticed that his hands trembled slightly, as he wrung them together absently.

"I…well, I felt things…things within other people," he continued softly. She wondered how this was different from the way his gift manifested in adulthood. "In fact, well, it was so strong…it was quite debilitating, actually. I couldn’t be around more than a few people at a time…the emotions were that strong."

His expression was agonized as he remembered the past, and she understood that he was sharing something deeply personal with her now.

She took his hand again, threading her fingers between his, encouraging him to continue with a gentle nod.

"I felt everything around me, in most everyone…and it all just came at me so intensely, that I’d get blinding headaches…would become physically sick even…could hardly think straight at all. And I was so small, I didn’t even understand some of the emotions that I’d feel."

Tess felt her heart breaking at his words, as comprehension began to dawn—what he’d grappled with in simply living with his intuition. It was much stronger than she’d even guessed, and had tortured him when he was just a little boy.

"Well, Serena finally helped me learn to block what I was perceiving…to master my gift," he continued, raking a hand through his black hair. "By the time I was ten-- I’d learned the cardinal rule that I controlled my powers, they didn’t control me. And after a while, I didn’t get sick anymore."

"Okay," she answered thoughtfully, wondering what he was really trying to tell her. She gave his hand a tight squeeze. "Go on."

"Well my intuition changed then…I mastered it and overcame how it affected me so negatively…that is, until lately."

She stroked his hand, feeling how clammy it had grown within her grasp.

"Marco, I’m not quite following you," she explained as gently as possible. She was painfully aware that these revelations had come at a great price for him. "I mean, I understand about when you were a child, but not about now."

"No…no, not yet," he explained heavily. "But you will." His voice was absolutely tight with emotion.

"Okay," she encouraged. "Then tell me."

"It’s Max and Liz." He pressed his eyes shut, grimacing as he spoke. "It’s happening all over again with them…after all these years." His eyes flew open, desperately searching around him, avoiding her own shocked gaze. "And I’m so scared, Tess…so damn scared of what’s inside me."

"What’s happening with them?" She pressed.

"I feel things between them…all their emotions when they connect," he explained in a bewildered voice, sounding absolutely lost. "I’ve tried blocking it…but nothing’s working."

The implication of his words began to gain clarity in her mind. He was feeling their own emotions, just as he’d felt those surrounding him as a small child.

"Have you tried talking to them?" She suggested, proceeding very delicately.

"Serena…I talked to her about it when it first started."

"What did she say?"

He bowed his head and she imagined him as a small boy in that moment, how utterly tormented he’d been, simply because of how strong his gifting was…how beautiful his ability to feel those around him had been. And now he was suffering all over again.

"She told me to block them, just as I knew to do. But I’ve not spoken to her about it since then."

Tess wondered why Serena hadn’t pressed him about it further more recently—what her reasoning could have possibly been.

"You should talk to her again," she urged. "She needs to know."

"She thinks I’m okay, Tess," he argued plaintively. "Please don’t think this is Serena’s fault."

He was instantly so protective of her, and Tess sensed how much he loved the only woman he’d ever known as a mother. "Of course not," she promised, cupping his face within her palm. He closed his eyes at the intimate contact, and she knew the feel of her hand against his skin had soothed him instantly. "But she can help you. And if you haven’t told her before now, how could she have known?"

"I’m ashamed for her to know," he admitted quietly. "I’m ashamed that I can’t control it any better than this…I’m their protector, I should be able to prevent this."

Marco’s voice was full of such self-accusation, that Tess ached at his words, longed to comfort him. She leaned toward him in one fluid motion, pulling him roughly within her arms. At first, his hands hung loosely by his sides, as he resisted the embrace, but then he slowly folded his arms around her, burying his face against the top of her head.

"Marco, your gift is beautiful," she breathed softly against his neck, feeling the light bristling of his beard stubble. "You have nothing to be ashamed of…I think you’re just very connected to them both because of how you’re bound to them."

"I’m not ashamed of my gift," he explained huskily. "I’m ashamed of what I feel."

Tess’s heart hammered anxiously at his words, at his implication. "What do you feel?" She prompted, despite her apprehension about what he was really confessing to her in the darkened vehicle.

"I want what they have…so much," he breathed against her face. "But not with them. I want you."

I want you. Three simple words, and yet they came at such a heavy price for this strong, beautiful man. They should have caused her soul to soar to the highest planes, and yet they only left her tormented, because she sensed how Marco’s heart was breaking.

She stroked his thick hair beneath her fingers, holding him close against her, and thought of his vow…R’thasme siet falne.

Dying to self, in order to protect those most worthy…and she realized that Marco was indeed worthy of her own sacrifice. She would help this thing between them die, so that he might live fully, so that he might be the only man he’d ever wanted to be until he’d met her.