𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃; ʜᴘ (𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃)

𝟏𝟏𝟔; ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴋɴᴇᴇ

NARCISSUS STARTED down at his passed out soulmate on the ground, and nudged him using his foot.

Astrophel remains unconscious.

"I swear this happens every lifetime." Narcissus sighed with amusement and fondness, before his gaze moves to Ophiuchus and Ophelia.

"Congratulations, you have killed my husband." He says with a laugh.

"Also was it really necessary for that make out session?" He raised a brow. "You both have traumatized many here." Narcissus continued and gestured to the rest of the hall.

"If you didn't hear him faint you probably would have continued making out with each other and even escalating to something more." He smirked.

Ophelia's face turned crimson, as she turned and buried herself away in Ophiuchus's chest. While he remains unfazed, not at all embarrassed, absolutely shameless he is.

"If I had my way Châtiment would have died from a heart attack seeing his sweet little sister down on her knees choking on my—"

"LESTRANGE!" Yelled James cutting him off.

"Yes, Heir Apparent Potter?" Ophiuchus responded with a smirk on his face, his duel colored eyes shone brightly.

Narcssius, Silas, and Elias, all recognized that look in his eyes. It has been so long since they've seen it. Ophiuchus and Corvus were reunited. They were whole again once more.

"Melanthios, you are courting death." Ophelia told him as she pulled away slightly to look up at Ophiuchus.

"Courting death? I thought I made that clear when I kissed you, didn't I?" He questioned ignoring James and Sirius whom were being held back from killing him.

"I am the life and creation to your death and destruction, as you are the death and destruction to my life and creation." Ophiuchus pulls away slightly as he did something that shocked them all into disbelief.

He removed his gloves...

His hands were a work of art, etched from marble with alabaster skin stretched over long, slender fingers. As each line and curve was perfect, from his well defined knuckles to the delicate yet elegant fingertips, and the swelling veins that gave them life. Yet, despite their beauty, his hands were marred by scars that told a story of pain and suffering.

Ophiuchus held out his hands to her, and Ophelia took them with more care than anything she has ever held before.

Ophiuchus bare hands were both soft and calloused all at once, and most of all, his hands fit in perfectly with hers.

With a voice as deep as the ocean and eyes as piercing as the stars above, he spoke words that shook her to her very core. "I swear by Mordred the Betrayer, you are mine." He declared, his gaze locking onto hers.

Ophelia stares back, he had an air so powerful and compelling his presence swallowed every molecule of oxygen in the room like a black hole consuming a newborn star.

"I have been told that I am to bow to none, as the heavenly skies are to bow down to me. I have never lowered by head before anyone not even to Mother Magic." He tells her as they held their hands close together.

"I decided to change that." Ophelia's eyes widen as Ophiuchus falls down to a knee in a knightly manner, as he looks up at her, their hands still intertwined, while he lowered his head.

Ophelia felt her breath sharpen as she looks down at a man that was never meant to be looked down upon, and who was never to bow before anyone. This is something she never thought she'd see from a man like him.