Cursed: Immortal

Chapter 13: Overprotective

Once, when I was very young, I loved my father. He was kind, and always brought me presents. He used to put on magic shows, with walking ice men and fire dragons and moving mountains and dust sprites, just for my amusement. My father, in those days, was kind and caring, entranced by his only daughter.

In those days, I looked up to him, and loved him, as any child would. Though, not long afterwards, he proved he was not worth my love. My admiration for him has not been lost, but I cannot love the man who practically signed my death warrant.

It was he who negotiated with Hades to tie me to Tristan. It was he who set up the wedding, though Morgana saw to the details. And it was he who commissioned the palace I was meant to live in with the husband he chose. My father wished to put me in a gilded cage, where I could be safe with someone to control me.

Though her part was no less great than his, Morgana, at least, fought against it. Though she was blind to the events before Tristan's death, she still advocated for my independence. But it was to no avail. Somehow, he managed to trick me into signing my name to the proposal with my own blood, its silvery sheen binding me to the engagement.

Clearly he had my best interests at heart; he just didn't pay attention to my actual interests. A few thousand years on, and he is still as stubborn and unaccepting of me as he was when I killed my fiancé. He may be capable of feeling regret, but he definitely cannot feel much else.

And if he kills this boy I really will not forgive him, I think to myself as Marcus slams a rock into Ian. Wincing, I look away, constantly aware of Morgana's presence. I can feel her laughing behind me, probably because she's listening in on every thought I have.

Sighing, I wrap my arms around my knees, the constant attacking and defending between my father and boyfriend almost comical. Then again, I'm so tired that falling on my face will send me into a fit of laughter. Rubbing my forehead, I send up impenetrable mental barriers, only stopping when Morgana sighs in frustration.

Only then can I think back to this morning, when Ian and I had fallen into such a comfortable routine together. I've never been this relaxed around another person in the entirety of my existence. In a way, it reminds me of the connections vampires and werewolves have to their intended partners. They know exactly where the other is at all times, can feel what the other is feeling and accept their faults so easily it actually makes my heart ache.

A dull thud forces my attention to the duel, but when my gaze falls on Marcus, I can't help but laugh in relief. Ian has managed to turn his own attack on him, causing him to land on his rear end. If this weren't so serious an event, I'm sure the other council members would be laughing too.

Morgana shifts behind me, uncomfortable in her stance. She's also probably worried about Marcus, though her motives are questionable. Not that it's my problem if my parents suddenly want to be together, my life is already enough of a human television drama as it is. What's one more scandal compared to all the other problems anyway?

Then again, it is Morgana, and she loves to play happy family more than anything else. I guess it helps her to cope with her life. Not that her actions are anything of my concern. And you can get out of my head now, mother.

Her sigh of frustration makes me smile for about an hour, and then its midday once more. Ian and Marcus are still at it as I realise this must be a normal teenage girl's nightmare. Her father discovering she has a boyfriend and then attempting to murder him.

If only he'd been as actively protective a few thousand years ago, when I repeatedly warned him about Tristan. But, as was usual back then, he didn't. He still doesn't listen to me, even when I have proof. I must be a psychologist's wet dream with all my issues, I think, gripping my head in my hands as I cross my legs.