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He stares at her, the contour of her face and the blue of her eyes.
She’s astonishingly beautiful.
The wind blows her hair and carries her laugh across the hill they’ve decided to spend the afternoon with the kids. He went to the kitchen to grab some of the berries that she loves and a few more blankets. Jack is sprayed on the blanket with his head on her lap while Rebecca and Philip are feeling Akasa with their tiny hands, a few feet away. He laughs at how loud she is. She’s his Diana and never did things quietly. His eyes never leaving her, his smile fades.
“But in 60, 70 years, I’ll be gone,
and you will live on for centuries, maybe millennia.”
She said that to him once, right after one of the most precious days of his life. It echoes in his head like screams. The darkness surrounding him, a thick veil sprayed; he is hanging on every one of her features. He is scared she will blow away like smoke any minute. That’s what other creatures are to him. Fleeting. Predictable. Passionate. Brief. Like thin wooden boards on a water mill —beaten by the unforgiving current, not in one moment, but in thousands. He’s seen it before. But never like this.
Never with someone who laughs that freely, or glows that brightly. Diana is so much more than a witch, a good creature, a human, and a mate to him. She doesn’t feel the current yet. He feels it for her.
A single-minded, blood raging, consuming fear of losing her.
His thoughts turn his eyes black. Control. His father shouts in his mind. He turns away from them, facing Sept-Tours, hiding that curse from his family. Control Mattheus.
And she’ll be gone, and so will he.
He can’t even bear the thought.
Her death will break him, and he will go on with his children and the rest of his family.
His pupils are completely dilated, drowning in black. He growls out at the feeling of loss. This is not him. He’s not that. She’s right there. His body doesn’t respond to his command like a wolf relying purely on instinct, looking for his mate. His eyes turn back to Diana, and he whines at her. He needs to have her n—Stop.
He cannot lose control in front of her like this. In front of Jack. He cannot let Rebecca and Philip see him like that. He shuts down his eyes, focusing on the steady beat of her heart and the smell of honey from her scent. Her faith in him. It’s as tangible to him as the feel of the ground beneath his shoes. She’s everything and he has her.
He feels his blood rage receding, still present, persisting; closing that box you never wanted to open with your bare hands feels like pushing back against the tide meant to flow. He inhales deeply for four seconds then holds whatever breath he has for four seconds then exhales for another four seconds and holds it for four seconds. After doing five series of it, Matthew opens slowly his eyes.
As though she sensed him, her eyes meet his. She beams at him, her gentle and warm smile supported by the look in her eyes : love.
He sweetly smiles at her, his eyes holding the same intense love. Jack sits up in front of her, breaking her sight. He’s looking at the twins and shouts at them to be careful. Diana follows his gaze and fondly asks them for a few minutes to help them go on the horse. The tide is closing in on her to someone like Matthew. Time is value, but it doesn’t hold on anything to him. Not anymore. But her love is worth every second of that disgusting disease on his soul, taking him away from his family for those unending minutes. Her love and safety and soul are the only things that matter to him. Over everything else.