Chasing Destiny [SYTYCW15]

London, 1941

"Are you okay?" Damianos asked, coming up behind Akantha and placing a hand on a bare shoulder. She stood by the window wrapped in a sheet watching the street below. Her head turned to look at the hand on her shoulder, but she didn't protest his touch or try to pull away.

He nuzzled her neck and she couldn't help but to smile a little. A shiver raced down her spine. "I'm fine," she answered without thought. Was she fine? She didn't know the answer to that question. Her mind was still processing the events of the past week and her heart was hurting over the loss of Matheus. She had lost people she loved in the past, but none had been by her own hand.

"You don't sound fine," he muttered as he dropped kisses along the smooth skin of her neck.

A truck rumbled on the street below and Akantha watched it roll past the hotel window. The streets of London were quiet at this late hour, save for the occasional vehicle. They had come here from Germany, cutting along the northern coast of France to Calais. From there they were able to find a small boat to take them across the English Channel to Dover. Then it was a short trip by auto to London.

A content sigh escaped her and her eyes closed at the feel of his mouth on her neck. Yet at the same time she was mentally chiding herself for enjoying it. "Just processing everything," she admitted. She leaned back into him, soaking up warmth and strength. His arms wrapped around her, giving her a feeling of safety and security and she'd worry about the consequences in the morning.

He gently turned her around and put a hand under her chin to lift it so he could see her face. Her gray eyes were glassy, ready to fill with tears. He dropped a light kiss on her lush lips. "Mourn him, but eventually let it go. You'll drive yourself crazy if you dwell on it."

Akantha looked into his brown eyes and didn't answer. She knew he was right and she hated it. She would mourn Matheus, but she knew life moved on. It always did no matter how much she wanted it to stop or even slow down. "I know," she told him.

His hand moved from under her chin to cup a cheek. Over two thousand years and he still thought she was beautiful beyond words. Time didn't change how he saw her or how he felt about her. He loved her from the moment he first saw her and still loved her to this day. He had been such a fool to leave her and had spent the past twenty four hundred years trying to make it up to her. He'd do anything to help ease the ache in her heart.

"I'm here for you," he said. "Anything you need, just say the word. I'd give you the world if you wanted it."

She felt herself falling under the spell of his gaze. She could get lost in the brown depths if she weren't careful. Despite being an ass most of the time and one of the biggest pains in her ass, she couldn't deny that he cared. No matter what happened between them and no matter what nasty things she said to him, he was there for her and cared about her. She nodded, but couldn't find the words to thank him. She feared she'd start crying if she spoke.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest. The sound of his steady heart beat spoke to her on a level she couldn't put into words and time slowed around them. She closed her eyes and listened; the world slowly righting itself in the steady rhythm of his heart. Her heart still ached, and would for a long time, but in the warmth of his arms things seemed better. The world would move on with or without her and she couldn't wallow in grief. He wouldn't let her and she was thankful, but she couldn't voice it.

"Have you decided what you're going to to with the spear?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not yet." The distraction he provided hadn't given her much time to think the past the current moment. She knew she had to make a decision soon. There were two choices open to her; she could give the spear to Churchill and the Allies, or hide it away in a vault far from the reach of mortals.