AN: Hello, lovelies! Winter is coming for our couple, so hang on to your seats. Mwuhahaha! Hope you guys are all well though!

I cannot wait to show you what is in story for Margo and Zachie. Stay tuned! 

Your Fearsome Hamster

P.S: Also wish me luck, starting my (most likely) final year of education next week! Hooray? :D

"My men had been massacred by the beast, we had never stood a chance," the woman bit out, her neon blue eyes shooting arrows at her Commander.

The higher ranking Dark Mage quirked his eyebrow at her, choosing to ignore the burst of power crackling at her fingertips. A novice's mistake, she knew. "We were sent there to die!"

"But the gods have shown mercy upon you and brought you back alive, niece," the dark mage said tonelessly. "And the beast's whore is yet drawing breath as well." The threat was hanging thick in the air; she had failed her mission. The Commander leaned closer and whispered, making the female mage flinch. 

"You should count your lucky stars that you still hold the favour of our Leader."

"Those men were part of your pack as well, Uncle," the woman whispered mournfully, her blazing anger dimmed down by the pain of her fallen comrades.

"Their deaths have served a higher purpose for the greater good. Are you questioning our mission, Lia?" her Commander abruptly asked, turning his sharp blue gaze on her. She had to thread carefully now, otherwise the tide of the conversation would threaten to swallow her whole and drown all her good intentions and carefully laid plans .

"No, Commander," she said dutifully.

......................................

"You greeted danger head on, regardless of my warnings," Zachary had not relented in scolding her for that reckless night; now that they were both out and about, his overbearingness had reached new heights. Margo was more than ready to jump out of the moving carriage and walk  to their destination.

After a fortnight of heavy storms, the weather had finally gentled enough for them to travel to the horse farm where Uncle Ray was located. It was also their first trip outside since her horrific brush with death. It explained to an extent why Zachary was behaving like a stressed out mother hen.

She loved him dearly for his concern, but she needed her space. 

"Zachary, we have been over this already," she continued to stare out of the window, watching the trees pass by in a blur. Her companion was fuming opposite her, obviously not liking to be ignored. 

"Had believed a lying servant over your husband," he growled. When she had first told him of the servant girl who had misled her, the manor's entire staff had been swiftly interrogated, but no culprit had been found. It was an understatement Zachary had been furious. 

She let him stew for a bit, before she turned to him and grabbed his stiff hand in her gloved one. "I had been a reckless fool," she confessed sincerely. He pursed his lips. Her body leaned into him, seating herself next to him in the rocking carriage. "Apologies," she breathed out against his cheek. 

His stance loosened and she felt him relax at her continued touch. His throat gulped. "I want you to promise me to never put yourself in danger again," he murmured. It was a vow she made each time she had this conversation with him. 

How deep did his insecurities run that he needed to hear this confirmation so often? A sting of shame coursed through her; she was partly to blame for.

"I promise." I shall not put myself in unnecessary danger unless a loved one is in danger. Unless you are in danger. She looked deep into his eyes and saw the emotions churning inside their depths. Throughout the two weeks, she had hopefully learned of a certain way to abate his dark thoughts. It had worked so far. "However, we do not need to revisit this subject any time I shall step foot outside, Zachary," she continued coyly, her fingers tugging at his fur collar.

He growled lowly and freed her dark hair from the bonnet. "Were my mate not a stubborn mule, I would not need to." The amethyst gaze dared her to accept his challenge while his hand ran across her scalp.

"It takes one to know one, husband." She straightened her back and avoided his touch.

The handsome man flashed his fangs. "It seems to me words alone cannot convince you to obey your husband."

Margo laughed, raising one eyebrow. "Obey my husband? Careful, Zachary, you are trudging on thin ice. That's hardly the gentlemanly behaviour fit for one of your station," she warned.

Faster than her eyes could track, Zachary grabbed her by the hips and settled her over his legs. The wild woman in her adored how small she felt in his muscled embrace, knowing that his strength would always be use "Being a careful gentleman is the last thing on my mind when I am between your thighs," the shameless vampire stopped her incoming reply, pressing a hard kiss on her lips.

That was good. After all, she was hardly a lady herself; he tended to bring out the most primitive responses in her. A muffled whimper escaped her as she felt his tongue dominate her mouth. 

Just as their caresses became heavy, their carriage was abruptly knocked off the road. Outside, their coach driver let out a throaty curse. With a frustrated glance at being interrupted, Zachary stuck his head out of the window. "Pavel, I hope for your own sake that you are not drunk!"

"No, Master! We have been hit by a horse! The animal was coming from the farm."

"Stop the carriage!" Zachary ordered with a scowl on his face. He turned towards her, his features losing their hard edge. "My love, I have to go investigate."

"It was just one escaped horse," she said.

"Not my horses." Again the vampiric arrogance was shining through...

"Zachary, let–"

"No, you shall stay here, out of trouble," he answered her unasked question. "You promised," his stern tone allowed no arguments. Before he opened the carriage door, he smiled reassuringly. He was already gone by the time she could finish her goodbye. 

Time passed cruelly slow waiting for her husband. Perhaps Zachary's dramatic attitude had rubbed off on her, but it felt truly utterly wrong to be away from him now. A part of her was unsettled, screaming at her to find him and make sure he is alright.

Damn it, and I judged Zachary for being overprotective...

Impatiently, she took out her pocket watch. Only twenty five minutes have passed.

"Pavel, do you not reckon Lord Frost has been gone too long, now?" No reply came from the driver. Curious, Margo stepped out of the carriage, glad to stretch her legs. Pavel was staring straight ahead, harnesses in hands. She tapped him on the shoulder.

His body slumped towards her. Margo screamed seeing the driver's unblinking blank stare. Tremblingly, she touched Pavel's neck and exhaled a breath of relief feeling the weak pulse underneath her fingers.

After she arranged Pavel in a more comfortable position, the young woman hurried to the horse farm, praying that she was not too late.

Horses wandered aimlessly the closer she got to the wooden fence. The animals were starved, their eyes tragic. They looked like phantomatic appearances haunting the deserted farm land, gravitating around the place that had once offered them shelter and food. Were was everybody?

The iron gate screeched like a banshee as it repeatedly hit the fence under the force of the wind which had started not too long ago. Shivers that had nothing to do with the winter cold shook her body as she slipped though it.

Analysing the fresh marks in the snow, she realised that Zachary was not the only one to visit the farm today. There were at least other five pairs of foot prints. She followed the tracks closely, noticing that the pattern was disrupted several feet away only to be continued slightly changed. It seemed that the group of five was now carrying someone with them.

More worryingly was the fact that farther ahead, drops of crimson coloured the white ground. Was it blood? If so, what if it was Zachary's? Already nausea was pulling her stomach in knots.

"Margo." 

She whipped her head at the sudden voice. The man before her was instantly recognised, though she no longer knew him. He was different, and it was not only his appearance that stood changed.

"Benjamin," she greeted. "What are you doing here?" 

The young woman took a step back when a silent Benjamin came closer. A rare emotion tried her heart: she was afraid of him. And the cause was not his broader back and grown beard. It was his eyes. His soulless eyes.

"Ben, back off," when he ignored her warning, Margo broke into a run through the snow. She was quickly caught and swung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She grunted, struggling to escape his painfully tight grip. A foreign word from him froze her body into submission.

She was paralysed!

They navigated through the buildings of the farm until voices broke the uncomfortable silence between her and Benjamin. Uncomfortable for her at least. Her friend, or better said frenemy was perfectly fine with being an emotionless jerk, ignoring her pleas for help.

Seven menacing pairs of eyes stared at her once Benjamin settled her on the cold ground. They were all dressed in black garbs covered by strong armour.  

"I see you found her, Benjamin. Good job, Leader will be pleased!" a very tall man stepped out.  He looked to be in his late fifties, with a long white moustache, and neon blue eyes that were peering at her imperiously. Judging by the way the others acted around him, the man was the leader of this lawless group.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"The Dark Mages, human," someone answered, earning a glare from the commander.

"Why are you attacking us?" she dared ask another question. The abrupt burn in her right cheek told her she had just been slapped. "Enough questions, miserable human!" the moustache man gritted out. He had been the one to hurt her.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Ben slightly flinched.

"Now that the happy pair was found, it is high time to finish the mission. Benjamin, you and the twins take the beast out of there. Leader has greater plans for the ancient one." She perked up hearing a mention of Zachary.

"What have you done to him?" she would most likely earn herself another slap, but she had to know this. Only snickers filled the frigid air. Margo watched her old friend enter a log house and pull out the unconscious form of her husband. Anger boiled in her veins. Zachary was much heavier than her, so his bulk was left to trail in the snow as he was carried uncaringly by the arms. Like an animal.

Her heart stopped beating for several moments as blood stained the snow in the wake of Zachary. The blood from before had been his as well! Tears clouded her vision.

"Benjamin, stop please!" she shouted. "This is not you! Let him go!" Her friend's powerful gait never faltered.

"With friends like you, who needs enemies, Benjamin?" The red headed man's shoulders tensed, but he continued carrying his burden, unscathed by her biting remark. Was there nothing left of the kind boy she had grown up with? Had this cruel monster bearing his resemblance forever taken over Benjamin? It could not have all been a lie...

Her husband's fallen body left deep tracks in the snow, getting farther and farther away. It seemed the dark forest was their direction. As roughly as they were handling his form, Zachary continued to remain unconscious. Margo could not even ponder on the possibility that he might no wake up. 

"Zachary!" she cried out as loud as she could and tried to dislodge the invisible web immobilising her; her muscled cramped, but remained locked in position. Disturbed ravens flew above her head in the white sky. The winged creatures were a bad omen and their pitched cries only added to her panic.

A caped man shouted to the group left with her, clanging his swords against one another for attention. "Silence her! The beast is reacting to her voice!"

The scary man in charge swore and ordered to his closest companion. "Finish the job here! Do not disappoint me!" He disappeared after the second group in the forest and his place was taken by a slender mignonne figure. When the person took off their cape, Margo realised she was staring at a very familiar face.

"...Lia?" The servant girl was holding a quiver on one shoulder and a bow on the other. Lia locked eyes with her, the arctic blue gaze indecipherable. The meek girl she had met weeks ago had been an illusion. The mage raised her hands, the arrow pointed in her direction. 

Hot sweat gathered at her brow despite winter's harshness. It would be any time now. She squeezed her eyes shut. 

Moments after, Margo dropped to the ground.

...........................

A wet cloth was pressed on the back of her head. A dull pain laced every thought she struggled to form. Confusion was overwhelming her, but somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind a bitter terror threatened to consume everything in its path if she focused on it too much.

Her hand reached for someone's. Warm, age beaten fingers grasped her own in comfort. It was not the touch she longed for however.

"Shh, do n-not fret, M-Margo," the familiar cadence of the gentle voice made her open her eyes. She shot upright and a happy sob escaped her upon greeting cherished sight. It was Uncle Ray!

"Uncle Ray!" her thin arms wound around his frail shoulders, the pulsing headache punishing her for the rapid movement "It lifts heart to see you well." And he was indeed better than she had ever seen him. There was a heathy glow to his skin, and through his clothes, she could feel the bones were no longer protruding due to sickness. If not for his mysteriously sad grey eyes, Ray looked a reborn man. 

"D-Dear one," he patted her shoulders. Uncle Ray waited for his young friend to realise what had occurred. When it came, the torrent of memories left the girl gasping for breath and clutching his arms. Rarely had he seen Margo in such a state. The raw vulnerability in the girl's stare transported him back in time when late Lady HartWell had passed into the afterlife and his young friend would implore him to bring her mother back to life.

"Uncle Ray, where is he? They took him, he was hurt," she stuttered looking everywhere for her husband. She pointed at the farm, but Ray shook his head. "Do you see him, do you see him?" It was his hidden sense she was referring to. Her brown orbs were desperate for an answer he could not give. 

"The fates are unclear," the old man only saw a pit of darkness when he stared into the beast's future. A symbol that foretold of death and tragedy. 

He kept his lips shut regarding that aspect and continued soothing his distressed friend.