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   Chapter 13 So Much Love to Share

A Hidden Past By Grace Estellar Characters: 22338

Updated: 2019-08-28 18:30


*****Alec's POV*****

Alec's form remained still as Daniel carried him upstairs to bed. It was fitting that the eldest son placed him in the master bedroom where their father had slept with their mother. Soft Cotten sheets were pulled back by Harry before Daniel set the lengthy man down. Quiet snores emanated from his lips, but other than that their father made no other movements. Pippa tucked him in before casting a quick spell on the room. The three siblings left a few moments later, the door closing to shroud the room in nighttime darkness.

Dream Sequence...

"You may now kiss the bride."

Remiel wastes no time in pulling Veronica into a soft, searing kiss that she returns wholeheartedly. His arms are wrapped around her waist to pull her in, his hands getting lost in the material of her wedding gown. Artist hands rest on the back of his neck right where small hairs grow.

The two have kissed many times before in their past year of dating, but none of them would ever top this moment. Beyond them Remiel can hear the raucous applause of the audience. They'd made plenty of friends since moving to their new home, all of which more than happy to attend their wedding.

The evening went by in a beautiful blur, a kaleidoscope of color, noise and people dancing around him in brilliant swirls. Some toasts were made at dinner along with the clinking of glass and the sound of cutlery whirring away at fine cut pieces of steak and creamy cake of multiple flavors (why have one cake when you can have several?).

Then came the dance. Remiel, for all his angelic might and skill in flying was by no means a dancer. That was why he was nervous to lead his wife to center stage, the audience having made plenty of room for the newlywed couple.

Veronica sensed his concerns, placing a hand on his cheek to caress it. The golden lights of the reception building fluttered around the archangel to create a halo of sorts around his head. Remiel took a stuttering breath, his eyes downcast.

"It'll be alright Remi, just follow me." She murmurs. Remiel is surprised she has the patience to continue teaching him. It had been well over three months since they'd started practicing together, and he still was nowhere near cracking down on this dancing thing.

The two held each other close as they began to dance. Remiel was carefully moving with a slowness that would be irking to most people. Veronica just tilted her head back and chuckled, the flowing skirts of her dress spun lazily as he twirled her before pulling her back to his strong chest.

"Am I stepping on your feet?" He asks a little worried. His wife hadn't shown any signs of discomfort, but he knew the woman would hide them if she did.

Veronica gave him a grin. Whenever the redhead smiled, it lit up her entire face like a shining sun. Remiel would do anything to protect that smile with so much love to share.

"How could you be? I feel like I'm walking on air." She responds, burying her face into his neck.

The archangel has to bite back a laugh from the ticklish sensation of her warm breath ghosting over the pale expanse of his neck. The two continue dancing for several more hours. For the rest of the night Remiel gives himself over to the brilliance of merriment, as does his wife.

*****Harry's POV*****

Harry was perched atop one of the branches of a Rowan tree, his fingers running through feathers. A young barn owl is huddled right beside him on the same branch with its talons curled into the reddish bark of the tree. The house was right of to the side of them, casting its dark shadow over the backyard below. The moon was high in the sky overhead only a few short days away from being full.

"It's almost time Hami. You excited to meet Da?" He asks the owl.

The barn owl beside him gives out an inquisitive 'who, ' reminding Harry of why he gave his feathered friend the name Hamilton. He wasn't the type of person to be into plays usually, but Hamilton was a rare exception. The storyline and songs were all too catchy and entertaining for him to not sit still and watch. So as the owl was loud and boisterous and a smidge curious, it seemed only fair that he give him the name Hamilton.

"I know. Me too." He agrees with the little owl, running his hand through golden brown feathers.

Most birds, mind you wouldn't be so keen on letting a person pet them. Harry had to learn that the hard way when he was young; many of the birds he tried to bring home would peck at him, squirm around like crazy and claw at him with their sharp talons.

So he'd had to learn which birds were friendly and which fell to the latter category. Little Hamilton has proved be an absolute sweetheart, as did his mate Eliza (because he couldn't help but keep up the musical theme with the names) and their first hatchling, Phillip.

"And there won't be any terrible affairs from you mister, now will there?" Harry asked rhetorically, tapping his companion on the beak.

"Who?" The bird tilted its head in confusion. Harry was under the belief that while animals can't really understand what it is people are saying, they are able to know what you're feeling. He couldn't help but burst out into laughter at his friend's expense.

"Oh, I do love our little chats. Even if you can't understand a word I'm saying." He grins as the owl presses closer to him.

Harry's wings are furled out behind him, golden brown feathers dyed with the slivers of moonlight cutting through the tree branches. Below them the chirping of crickets was heard and there was the occasional bird call, signaling it was of the hunting hour for his nocturnal feathered friends. Hardy knew he would have to let Hamilton get to work, Eliza would not be happy if she was the only owl out hunting.

Speaking of Eliza, a white snowy owl ghosts over the ground like a silent shadow. The female is whoing out into the open night in search for her mate. Her combed white feathers are a stark contrast to the darkened backyard. He gives Hamilton one more pat on the head. The little owl preens in response before leaping off the branch to glide down to its mate.

"Who."

"Who. Who."

He listens to the two owls as they fly out into the night. Harry considers himself lucky that the owls made their home in the Rowan tree, despite the fact that there was no immediate prey for them nearby. He knew they'd be head to the ridges beyond in search of prey for their youngest. It was unusual for owls to leave hatchlings alone, but the two adult owls considered Phillip old enough and safe enough to be left to his own devices for a little while.

The same had been true of Harry's own family. Only once he an

rns out your an Angel-"

"But I didn't know! If I did I would've told you!" Alec protests.

"SILENCE!" Magnus shouts.

Alec recoils from the burst of magic Magnus sets loose, the sparks of red light pushing the separating table away from them and pushes back the chairs surrounding them to the walls of the dining room.

The moving objects don't scare him initially, instead it's the raised voice Magnus projects. Alec has never been on the other side of that rage before, and he never wanted to be.

A few moments later Magnus continues. "As I was saying, you lied about who you are, you lied about having children, and most importantly you lied about only ever loving one person. This Veronica character is proof of that. For all I know, I'm just a rebound from her." The irateness in Magnus's voice makes Alec's heart hurt, but he's unsure what to do to quell his husband's anger.

"Magnus, I-I'm sorry. I didn't know. I swear on the Angel I never intended to lie to you. And, and I promise you mean everything to me. You're my world Magnus, surely you must know that." He murmurs. Unglamoured eyes are gazing back at him now, welled up with tears. Alec is certain he must be about to cry at this point as he can feel the mist in his eyes, his vision blurs slightly.

"Save it Alec. I'm not interested in hearing your excuses." Magnus mutters.

Alec's eyebrows furrowed. "But they're not excuses, it's the truth Mags." He tells the man.

"And to think, I thought I knew you. But I guess you proved me wrong." Magnus tells him before turning away.

Alec's heart is pounding now in uneven, accelerated beats. Blood roars in his ears. He can tell something bad is about to happen, but he doesn't know how he knows. It was like a strange premonition of sorts.

"I-I..." Alec doesn't know what to say, his throat choking up as words desert him.

Surely Magnus can't think that way? Except he must, because Magnus is staring at him with such disdain, and is that disgust? Alec is panicking on the inside now, the wings behind him twitching with nerves. A lone feather falls from one quivering wing, the brightness with which it shines is eye catching and mesmerizing.

Magnus spots the movements and lets out a laugh. This is not his usual humorous laughter, instead turning out to be a bitter chuckle. There was a storm brewing behind golden eyes now, Alec was uncertain if he could weather the vast power of it.

"The second you gained those wings was all the proof I needed to know that we have to end this Alexander." Magnus said.

Alec feels a quaking horror spreading out from his core. If he hadn't been gripping onto the one remaining chair in the center of the room it's likely that he would've fallen to his knees.

"What, what do you mean? You can't be saying what I think you're saying." Alec's voice is hoarse now, tears pooling down his face unbidden.

Magnus doesn't even flinch at Alec's sorrowful look, his golden eyes remaining stone cold. "I am dead serious. You lied to me about who you are, about everything. I don't need you Alexander. You never have been good enough for me, and you never will be."

These words slam into Alec like sharp icicles stabbing into his heart. The pinpricks and flash of pain course through him with such unbearable force that Alec does fall down now, right down onto his knees.

His vision blurs even more, to the point where he has to physically restrain himself from sobbing aloud. Those words, those simple words had torn his whole world apart. They leave him feeling empty and broken.

Magnus seems satisfied by Alec's response, and he turns to walk away. The Shadowhunter (If he can still be called that) tries to rise to his feet, but finds his legs too shaky to stand. So he stretches out the hand not clenched at his heart to Magnus.

"M-Magnus. Don't go." He calls out desperately. But Magnus doesn't hear him, and the scene around him fades. He clutches at his wedding ring with fierce intensity as it does, sobs pouring from his throat freely now as the scene fades to black.

Some part of his mind as he floats to the next dream knows that this last dream was not real, that it was untrue and that Magnus would never leave him like that. These images came from the most paranoid part of his mind, the part that prevented him from being true to himself for so long. Yet the images do set a fear in his heart that only a certain warlock will be able to dissuade.

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