Forget Me Knot (Marcus Volturi)

Chapter 14: Home Is Where You Are

*SMUT WARNING*

Marcus's POV

Day five, and there has been no movement from my mate. However, I was relieved to find that her wounds had disappeared on the second day and her complexion no longer appears sickly. The venom is working its way through her system, but she remains still...like a porcelain doll. My brothers have excused me from attending court, because of my anxiety and growing temper. Carena and my bond has yet to reappear, and it worries me. Has destiny changed her mind and have taken away my connection to my mate? I dread to find out.

"Tesoro, let's read the next chapter, shall we?" I wait for her to respond, but only her silence is offered. With a disappointing sigh, I flip to the book-marked page. Everyday for hours, I read to my mate, hoping that my voice would ease her through her transformation. Externally, she seems at peace, but I know well that on the inside, she suffers the searing pain of her conversion. "Oliver Stanley waited for his love to return every night. He would watch the sunset, obsessively as his beloved would only appear brighter among the blanket of stars. And Selene would too, anticipate seeing her lover bellow as he stationed himself at his bedroom window, just to catch a glimpse of her celestial light." I pause, shifting my eyes to Carena. "You're my Selene, do you know that?" I whisper, but her emotionless face remains unchanged.

I finished our fifteenth book, and am already scouring my shelves for something new, but alas, nothing I believe would suit my mate's taste, nor anything comforting enough. I glance back at her laying form, and an idea comes to mind. "Mio amore, let us have a change of scenery, yes?" I gently lift my mate from our bed and cradle her close. I flit to a room not too far away from our chambers—it is my office. Inside there is the predictable desk, and shelves of books...but in the corner, a violin sits on its stand. I place Carena onto a sofa, making sure that she lays comfortably. "I've read enough books to you. Allow me to serenade you with a song." I pick up the dainty violin and tuck it under my chin. I thought about what I should play...there are many compositions that I believe would please my mate, but...something told me to play from the heart—something that has never been played, but something I know. Something I feel. With a needless breath, I begin to play.

Music has always been a passion outside of literature. The Volturi pride themselves as masters of the arts, and with the years we've been granted, we learned and exceled in everything—though, some more than others. Caius is an extraordinary painter. In fact, over the years he has sold many famous paintings under an anonymous name or has given credit to already famous artists. Aro is a gifted musician—he can play any instrument and any composition as long as he has heard it once. Aro fancies himself a scholar, but music inspires his soul. I on the other hand have a vast and undeniable love for literature. History is my sweet spot, as the newer generation says. I love to learn as well as record historical events—in fact, I wrote the Volturi's history and have recorded everything about our species, the discovery of hybrids being the newest addition.

My worries fade away with the melodious sound of the strings. I almost feel as though I have been transported through reality to one where I can feel nearly nothing at all. I must have believed it to be real, because once I had stopped, I knew not of what would come next.

"You play so beautifully...is there nothing you can't do?" A voice, so light—it could rival the flutter of angel wings.

I couldn't turn around upon hearing her. I couldn't bring myself to look and find that my mind has played tricks on me. So, I do only what I know can tell me the truth. I use my gift. "The bond...it's back." I whisper in disbelief.

"And so am I." The voice is much closer—just to my back. I spin around instantly, and there she is, as beautiful as ever. Her eyes are no longer that warm brown tone that I loved to look at but are now passionately red—like a freshly bloomed rose. Her skin is paler than before, but she remains as lovely. Her hair appears longer and healthier...and before I knew it, I had already grabbed a handful of it as I kiss her with so much want. All of these agonizingly long days of waiting for her to awaken, to finally be back with me, I kiss her with all of the relief of knowing that yes...she is in front of me. I can touch her; I can smell her—I feel her and so much more.