Long ago in the rocky cliffs and misty hills of Dublin, Ireland, a war between the people and the religious zealousness of the fledgling Catholic church raged. Demanding absolute power over the people of Ireland, the church had begun to hunt down magic users. Neighbors turned on one another out of fear and greed, so the hunts expanded to include those who had not a magical bone in their body. Those caught in the violent storm of the church's wraith faced things worse than death. If one were to be captured and imprisoned, a slow emotional and bodily torture became a daily routine, until their trial. Beatings, starvation and unspeakable torture, came at the hands of the highly trained henchmen of the church. At trial, it didn't matter if you were guilty or not of being a magic user, the fact that someone had accused you was enough for you to be paraded before court naked, shamed and finally condemned to death. Women were burned alive, tied to a wooden pole, The only way for their remaining family to clear their name was to start the fire that would kill their loved one. Forced to watch their wife or daughter, scream in agony as their flesh seemed to melt in the flames, the remaining ashes would be thrown to the ocean, so that their soul may never know peace. Men would be forced to lay on their backs in the hard earth, with thick wooden board placed over top of them. Each member of the community, starting with the family, would place a heavy stone on top if it, until the sheer weight would crush them to death. The bodies would then be burned and thrown to the ocean. Two people stood up against the evil doings of the church and began smuggling magic users and those accused out of Dublin and in some cases out of Ireland. Miranda Branson, a noble lady, enchantress and blacksmith hid her face in an elaborate mask of silver, as she dueled, smuggled and nearly died for people she hardly knew. Morgan Doyle, an ancient vampire and skilled fighter, refused to watch some pot bellied zealots tear apart his home and ruin the balance that magic brought to the world. Their goals brought them together one fateful stormy night, just outside of Dublin. Rain smacked upon the stone filled earth, a thunderous clap to follow its tune, as Miranda found herself running from the churches henchmen. She had to keep them away from the family she was hiding, the young mother had gone into labor and there was no way she could be moved. Dressed in a black corset, pants and boots, she raced through the narrow stone streets. Closer and closer the henchmen came, swords and daggers raised as those with good aim, used a sling shot to fire small stones. Rounding the corner of a narrow alley, Miranda boots slipped on the wet stone giving the henchmen an edge. Lunging to stand, a henchmen threw a knife into the back of her calf. Pulling the knife out with gritted teeth, she rose to find herself surrounded. Demanding that the masked woman turn herself in for a "proper" trial, Miranda laughed. The bracelets on her wrist formed gauntlets over her hand. Ready to go down fighting, she dug her feet into the edges of the stone. She knew what was worth dieing for. Little did Miranda know, a shadow with jade green eyes, followed her from the rooftops. Morgan Doyle had always loved a good fight, but he was not about to spoil hers unless she needed help. He admired the strength and determination she showed, plus the fact that she had a beautiful figure made it even harder not to watch. Her scent was easy to follow, a gentile balance of smoke from a fire and roses that made her unique. Wiping the rain from his eyes, the next view he had of the young warrior, was a knife sinking in to the back of her leg. The strong scent of blood filled his nose, bring a lustful rage to his mood. Just as she took her first swing, Morgan threw himself in the middle of the furry, to aid the mysterious women. The sound of metal on metal rang through the night air, the storm matching the violence it laid witness to. Within moments the henchmen laid in pools of their blood, the rain to wash away their sins. Morgan turned to face the fem fatal that brawled so furiously beside him. Mint green eyes stared out from a silver mask that looked as if it belonged to royal fairy. Small red curls escaped her ponytail, as she stood before him gauntlets at the ready. "Dunno' think about it lass. I'm on yer' side for the evening." Morgan gave her a fanged grin. He knew she couldn't get far with her leg injured and hoped to gain her trust. With a flick of her wrist the gauntlets turned back to bracelets, but her gaze remained steady. "That's sweet of you lad, but we have got to get out of here." Miranda was grateful for the help, but they had to get to a safe house and fast. Turning to lead the way, her first step on the injured leg gave out. Morgan quickly wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and pulled her close to him. Feeling Miranda's heart race and the warmth of her skin, stirred feelings in him he had buried long ago. "How about I be leadin' the way." Scooping her up, like a bride on her wedding day, he leapt for the nearest roof. Following her directions, they lead him to a small cottage just outside Dublin. She unlocked the door revealing the cottage to be only one room with a hearth, small cabinet, table, chair and straw filled bed. Gently he set her in the chair, his eyes lingering over her athletic form. "Thank you. In the cabinet are supplies. If you wouldn't mind bringing them to me, I should be just fine." Miranda was at a loss. If she asked him to stay and help it would only bring more trouble to this kind stranger, but she knew that she couldn't hold her own at the moment. Morgan riffled threw the cabinet till he found a small box with bandages and a few strange colored bottles. Walking back to her, he knelt on the floor and with a knife to cut her pant leg open, exposing the wound. It was pretty deep and still oozing blood, tenderly he began to clean the wound. "The name is Morgan, Morgan Doyle. And a pretty littl' thing like yerself would be?" Raising one eyebrow, he looked up at her face, hoping the mask had come down, but no such luck. "For the safety of my family, I am afraid I can't tell you. If you like you can call me enchanting." It was the only thing Miranda could think of that didn't give away anything her fighting hadn't already. "That you are lov'." Morgan grinned as he bandaged the wound. He loved watching a pale blush come to her face. Miranda's mask couldn't hid the fact that she had walked into that. Feeling the heat in her cheeks, she waited for him to finish. As he tied the bandage in place, she stood from the chair, feeling a little wobbly. Morgan stood up as she did ready to catch, it would be rather ungentlemanly to let her fall on her face. She shook from being unsteady on her injured leg, but he already knew it wasn't going to stop her from trying to walk.

Miranda took her a few step towards the bed and that leg gave out. With a lunge and spin, she was back in his arms and he felt his own heart skip a beat. Gently, he set her down on the bed and covered her with his jacket. "You've lost a lot of blood lov' and yer soaked to the bone. Let me start a fire and keep watch fer the night." Morgan quickly had a fire roaring in the hearth, bringing a much needed warmth to the stormy night. Turning the chair to face the door, he sat down and played guard. Keeping one eye on Miranda he watched her struggle not to fall asleep. He wanted so badly to take that mask off and see the beautiful face he was being denied, but he wouldn't out of respect. As morning approached, he finally saw her mint green eyes stay closed for more than a couple of seconds, He knew he had to leave, but his heart felt otherwise. Writing a note on a piece of unused bandage, he left it by the bed. Leaning over her, he took a deep breath of her scent. "No worries lov'. Come the next night, I'll find ye." Morgan sighed as he stole one last glance at her before letting the last shadows of night consume him. The morning light woke Miranda from her sound sleep. She jerked up, finally realizing she had fallen asleep instead of watching Morgan. Looking around the cottage, she found nothing, but a bandage with a note. It was a simple apology for not being able to be there when she woke, but he promised to make up for it. He had refereed to her as enchanting in the note and the blush came to her face again. Forcing herself to focus, Miranda limped to the box of supplies and drank a bright orange bottle. The taste made her gag, but it would at least let her make it home. Once safely on the Branson estate, she would return to her role of loving daughter and wait for nightfall. Morgan spent the day pacing, the scent of the masked girl filled his nose and thoughts. He had to find her. Just one peek at her face and he could let this go or that is what he kept telling himself. The last rays of light felt like forever and when the moon cast shadows consumed the earth, he took off at a run. Roof to roof he ran, catching the faintest hint of her. For a while it seemed she had been everywhere in Dublin. On the other side of Dublin, sat the oldest manors, steeped in history and pride, the scent was getting stronger. Lust and curiosity drove him to move faster, he could only hope that her leg would keep her in place for the evening. The scent became overwhelming, as he crept into the Branson estate. Morgan knew that the Branson family was one of the strongest and oldest magical families in all of Ireland. Through the garden full of roses he found a small forge with a fire raging inside. Quietly he made his way to the open door, hoping the gods would show his fevered mind mercy. Back against the building, he leaned his head just enough to look in. Standing over an anvil, was the girl, hammering away at a piece of metal. Streaks of black soot lined her slightly tanned skin, while her mint green eyes burned with a passion for her work. After a few moments she tossed the bit of metal back on the hot coals. She leaned on a stone ledge to take some weight off her injured leg. If he thought she looked good last night, she looked even better in a dress. It showed off every curve a man could ever want in a woman. So focused on watching her, Morgan missed the fact that her father was now standing next to him. "I owe you thanks for saving my only daughter." The old man said in a soft voice. Morgan just about jumped out of his skin, he has not even smelled this man coming! He had to get this girl out of his head or she was going to get him killed. The old man smiled at him and walked through the door to his daughter. "Miranda, you have a guest." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. "Take a break for the evening and play nice." Walking back out, he nodded to Morgan as he marched back to the main house. Taking his chance he moved out of range to the another side of the forge.

Miranda held tight to her hammer, as she made her way to the door. She loved her father dearly, but she never took chances. Tactically she thought about where would be the best place to hide near the door. Ready, set , aim! She slammed the hammer into the very spot where Morgan had been earlier. The blow took her off balance and she wobbled on one leg. "So Miranda is yer name. I can't decide if I like enchanting better." Morgan peeked around the other corner just in time to see her squeak, as she began to tumble backwards. Making sure to take the hammer out of her hand first, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up right. "I've heard of fallin' head over heels lov' but it suits you." He flashed her a wicked fanged grin as he let her lean into his chest. Looking into his jade green eyes, Miranda felt her heart skip a beat. Somehow this vampire could take her off guard, and make her blush more than anyone else could. Trusting her father, she let the last of her guard fall. "Thank you for saving me again, Morgan." That heated blush claimed her cheeks again. "It is my pleasure, lady Branson. If I had my way, I would have waited till you woke and asked for a proper thank you." Morgan could not make himself let go of her. "Please call me Miranda." She thanked him with a kiss that quickly turned passionate. Little did they both know that the gods had bigger plans in mind.

For many years Morgan searched for Miranda. The church and its ideals brought more pain upon the people with each passing day. Eventually, all magic was forced to leave their sacred homes. No matter where Morgan went , the church followed like a rampant plague. Pain flooded him, as it became clear he had to leave earth. In the sewers of Paris, a mage opened a portal to another world for Morgan. Magical beings that he and Miranda had saved began following him in his quest, grateful and loyal for the new life they were about to be given in Rhy'din.. Starting a coven, Bristle Crios, to give those who followed him a home, Morgan searched each night alone, hoping to find Miranda with no luck. With the first rays of morning light he would returned with his arms empty, soul aching to the point of madness. For the coven, he slipped into the hollow mask of his role as leader, faking a happiness he has not felt since Miranda was in his arms. The political white noise of the coven was his only distraction, until it caught him off guard. After nearly 700 years, he had become simply a figure head to the coven, similar to the royal families of Europe, there for show. The coven decided for Morgan, that he should take a vampire bride, so that in the event of any accident there would be no questioning who would take control of the coven. His chosen bride, Bree is beautiful and strong willed, but most of all manipulative. She knew the politics of the coven well enough to make certain that she was the only choice for Morgan's bride. Bree doesn't actually love Morgan and he doesn't love her either, but she did love his power. She didn't care that it took having the elders of the coven threatening his life in order to have him agree to this union, all that mattered was that she became queen of the coven. One cool star filled night, Sarah Matthews, a shape shifter came to the coven asking questions about Morgan. Her answers to the questions the elders were asking remained vague and the whole meeting seemed a waist of time until she said the name Miranda Branson. A spark rose in Morgan's heart, a madness took his eyes, as his body remained still. She couldn't be talking about his Miranda and even if she was, Sarah is a shape shifter, she could be faking this just to play a game. Morgan hung on her every word, hoping for a clue. Sarah watched the change in the coven's elder and leader Morgan and the longer the questioning went, the more she knew something was up with him. She wouldn't run back to Miranda and say she found her Morgan, but she could at least give the poor woman some hope. She had become her friend. After the meeting, the elder Morgan followed her to the gate. "What do you know of Miranda Branson?" Morgan had to get more information from her. He had to have proof that she was his Miranda. It felt as if a fever had taken his mind. For so long he had nothing and now the one person who could trick him better than anyone came to him, handing him the one thing he wanted more than anything in this world. "I know her, she is a friend of mine. She has been looking for the love of her life, Morgan Doyle and I thought I would help her out. Poor thing is worried sick that he has been taken hostage by the church back in Ireland or worse. She intends to find a way back home to save him." Sarah knew she was baiting him. If things were really as horrible as Miranda had told her and this was her Morgan, there was no doubt in her mind that he would start following her or at least do something to stop her from going back to Ireland. "I will look through our records personally to see if I cannot help the woman you speak of." Morgan kept his voice stoic, but his heart hammered and his eyes filled with hope. Damn everything, he had to know if it was Miranda. Sarah left the coven with a shadow on her tail and she smiled all the way to the rings. It was only a matter of time before Miranda showed up and the coven leader saw her. "Game on,"Sarah thought to herself..

It was taking every ounce of self restraint not to run after Sarah as she left the gates of Bristle Crios. Morgan had to make sure that no one would follow him or question his motives for leaving in the middle of a counsel gathering. Of course Bree would pout like a child, demanding more of his attention. The very thought of having to talk to her made his skin crawl, but if he want to know the truth, to find out if this was Miranda Branson, he had to. After a long, and drawn out conversation filled with half truths and fancy dodging, Morgan left the coven alone and racing after Sarah Matthews. Following her scent, he found himself waiting in the rafters above the rings in the annex.

Every second felt like an eternity, as he watched Sarah do shots of a pathetic excuse for whiskey. The idea that someone could enjoy something so rough and poorly crafted made his stomach turn. He thought of the times he and Miranda had enjoyed drinking together. There had always been a stash of aged whiskey in her father's cellar for them to raid. His eyes glazed as he remembered how many kisses he had stolen from Miranda half way through a bottle, by the fire of the forge. Finding new ways to bring a darker blush to her heated cheeks, as they shared the last drops on each others lips. The maddening ache he thought he had buried in politics claimed his chest. Closing his eyes to try and fight the painful rise of emotions, he had missed the new comer to the party.

Miranda walked into the annex to find Sarah and Mur talking about some sort of challenge. She had no idea about challenges, but was happy to politely listen for her friend. The conversation was became quiet serious, enough to were Miranda needed a drink. She eyed the bottle sitting on the bar behind Sarah and gave it a sniff. "What is that?" Miranda wrinkled her nose in distaste and quickly whisked the bottle away, not caring what Sarah's answer was. Rummaging in the bar, her hands came to hold a bottle of 20 year old whiskey long forgotten. Blowing off the dust from the red wax seal, she smiled sweetly, pouring a glass for her and Sarah.

"If we are going to talk about such serious things, we should drink seriously." Miranda raised her glass in a salute to Sarah and then consumed the shot. The tension in her muscles faded and for a brief moment she allowed her eyes to close, savoring the craftsmanship of the dark amber liquid. The whiskey was smooth and full of flavors, reminding her of home. A warm sensation came to her mouth and throat, leaving a slight touch of sweet earthy vanilla. Pink crept into her cheeks and nose, a soft sight left her lips. The silver in her eyes became sharp, as she opened them to smile at Sarah.

Glancing over at Sarah, Morgan had to stifle a chuckle when she took her shot. It was clear by the look on her face, she had not expected the burn. His jade green eyes focused intensely on the two ladies doing shots. So what if this look alike knew about aged whiskey and loved it. That proved nothing, he thought while crossing his arms, trying to pull back into the shadows.

The mindless chatter about challenges continued and Morgan found it harder and harder to pull his gaze away from this Miranda. She was just as beautiful as he had remembered her. Mint green eyes with touches of silver that revealed her emotions. Crimson curls that would softly coil around his fingers, giving off the scent of smoke and roses. Pink lips, tender and waiting. His arms ached to hold his Miranda again. Just to hear her call his name instead of that cold, manipulative Bree. "Damn, f@cking politics and policies!" he thought. To be reckless and simply come down from his perch and demand the truth, what a relief it would be to have an answer.

Miranda leaned on the bar, pouring shots and throwing in her two sense here and there. Each of her fingers rubbed the edge of a small piece of paper Sarah had given her after Mur left. Nestled deep within the pocket of her black mourning dress, was a map to the coven that had answers to her heart. Was he alive, dead or even a member of the powerful coven Bristle Crios" Both Sarah and Neo had told her that 700 years had pasted between Ireland and Rhy'din, even though it had felt like a split second to her. Would he and could he even still love her after all that time" That is, if Morgan Doyle was even alive. Deep down her heart ached at the idea that he could have been here this whole time and more so that he could be dead. Wanting to hold onto hope, she tossed back another shot. Miranda just wanted to be numb and the whiskey only helped so much.

Sarah looked at Miranda and wondered what was running through that head of hers. "So are you going to go to the coven?" Sometimes you just had to be blunt about things, she thought.

Miranda looked at Sarah for a brief moment, as all her questions came crashing to the front of her mind. They wanted to be voiced, logic of thought wanting truth, but once said, they would hang in the air and shattering what little was left of her sanity. Taking a deep breath, she carefully let the words tumble. "I want to go and I want to know the truth, but.."

"But what?" Sarah waved a hand at her face. "If you love this Morgan than go, don't second guess yourself. Before you march in, just in case he is there I would wear something other than black. Is that all you have in your closet?" She tossed back her shot and poured another looking at Miranda from head to toe in black.

"What is wrong with black" I have been wearing it to show I am in mourning for the loss of my love." Miranda's back straightened and she stood a little taller with her next shot. "It is out of respect and tradition that I wear black."

"He is not lost if he is right here in Rhy'din. Come back and stay the night at the tower with me and Neo. Make a girls night of it and go shopping in the morning for a new dress." Sarah took her last shot and turned the glass upside down on the bar, which was the only thing holding her up at the moment. She smiled at her friend.

Miranda was taken back that Sarah held onto hope for her. She thought that most people would have told her to be reasonable and give up by now. Consuming her last shot, she turned her glass over as well. "You're right. Morgan could be right here and soon enough back in my arms, the gods willing."

The whiskey was starting to sink in, and they had only just started their second bottle. Sarah moved away from the bar and ran a hand through her hair. "Let's go then, Neo will just have to deal with taking care of two drunks." she laughed.

Chuckling, Miranda grabbed a rose from her hair and turned it into a woven basket. "I have and idea." a wicked grin came to her face, as she scooped up the open bottle of whiskey. In the bar she managed to find a third bottle of whiskey and a bottle of sweet sparkling wine, placing them in the basket. Wrapping her arm in Sarah's, she let her lead the way to the tower. "We shouldn't leave the poor man out if he is going to have to put up with us."

The two of them laughed and swayed to the door, their tipsiness blatantly clear. At least they didn't have far to go.

Morgan leapt across the rafters, remaining silent. If he could just get close, he would have his answer. Sarah might be able to make someone look like his Miranda, hell she even sounded like his Miranda, but she could never be able to recreate her scent, let alone know what it was. His very soul ached as he listened to this Miranda talk, laugh and even when she said his name, it felt like the air had been taken from his lungs. In place above the door, his head was spinning with questions. Playfully Sarah and the Miranda walked to the creaky wooden stairs. When they were right underneath him, he leaned down and took a deep breath. The sweet, almost forbidden scent of smoke, roses and whiskey consumed her skin.

The sharp pain in his arms returned, as his heart pounded against his ribs. It was her! It was his Miranda! His eyes drank in every inch of her being. The way the light fell on her skin, the soft curves of her frame and the glimmer of her eyes. With each movement of her hips, the bottom of her dress twirled out revealing her bare ankles. Miranda was his love, his dream, desire, the reason he kept on living.

Morgan found himself nearly breaking every rule as he leaned down to be closer to her. He wanted nothing more than to come down from this insufferable beam, wrap her entire body close to his and shower her with 700 years of love and devotion, but in doing so he could lose her. He could not return to the coven with her scent on him and he knew Bree would be waiting. The thought of Bree hurting Miranda was the only thing that kept him on the rafter. Heartbreakingly, he watched his love and Sarah leave and walk to the tower of water. If he wanted to keep Miranda, he would have to be cunning, and plan every detail.

Miranda returned to the rings the next day, in one of the new dresses her and Sarah has shopped for earlier. She had thought long and hard about going to the coven and from all that, a few rounds in the ring could only help. Neo and Sarah were smiling at each other with love in their eyes sitting at a table. Miranda was happy for them, but at the say time, all of her questions still boiled just under the surface of her smile.

Sarah looked at Miranda and it was clear her friend needed a distraction. She felt bad for her, after all what if this happened to her and Neo. No, that was to painful to think about. "Miranda you look like you could use a duel. Come on." Sarah called in a duel of fists to Sai and entered the ring, she was not going to give Miranda a chance to say no.

Sai created the ring for them and sat back on the couch. This could be a very interesting duel if the sad red head could focus.

Miranda's mint green eyes took a sharp edge to them, when she stepped into the ring. Shifting her weight between her feet evenly, so that she could move quickly if need be. One fist hovered near her cheek and the other kept in a loose fist in front of her chest.

Playfully, Sarah bounced on the tips of her feet, looking at her friend. "What's wrong Miranda?" In a flash Sarah landed the first blow to Miranda's shoulder. Resetting, she waited for her to answer.

Tears, began to cling to her lashes, as she rolled her shoulder. Her thoughts came crashing to the front of her mind, each one screaming to be said first. Miranda's mind in turmoil, she didn't even try to block Sarah's fist.

Neither of them knew that a shadowed figure had entered to watch them duel. He hung in the rafters above Neo, jade green eyes intensely focused on the duelists.

Neo watched the guy zip up his coat to cover his mouth and point to the rings. Blue eyes looked at the rings and then back to the stranger. "It couldn't be." he thought. If this was the person he thought it was, then he was ready to blow the whistle on him. Miranda had been in so much pain since she arrived in Rhy'din, why would he just let her continue to suffer. Neo started to rise from his seat and the stranger looked at him again and gestured for him to sit. One last glance at the rings and he could see Miranda was crying. If this guy cared for her at all he would feel every ounce of pain that she was going through.

Morgan moved along the rafters once he managed to keep his cover. He had spent the entire day planning on how he would do this, how he could tell her he was here and keep her safe. His heart seemed to skip every other beat as he focused on her duel. The first two blows were painful to watch, Miranda was better than that. He had taught her better than that! He watched tears roll down her cheeks, while she landed a blow to Sarah's side. "Thatta' girl!" he whispered.

Moving closer, he heard the conversation that was causing her so much pain. Miranda kept dueling even though it was clear she felt her world was falling apart. But when she questioned if he even loved her still, it stung like a knife to the heart. If he thought that seeing her had been hard the day before, this was much worse. He saw Sarah look up at him and shook his head, begging her to keep quiet for just a little longer. Without a sound he dropped down next to Sai on the couch to watch the end of the duel.

Distracted, Sarah missed the hay-maker Miranda threw. The same elder that followed her to the gate of the coven was watching them. Her gut was right, it was Miranda's Morgan. She looked at Neo, questioning what the hell she should do. He was right there and all it would take was one word from her and Miranda would feel whole again. Neo shook his head, not knowing what the two of them should do, as Miranda grappled Sarah's arm, throwing her across the ring.

Out of breath, it barely registered that the duel was over, let alone that she had won. Tears just kept coming and Miranda felt so foolish for letting her emotions get the better of her. She wanted nothing more than to fall to her knees and weep, but it would solve nothing. Trembling in place, her fist remained balled up.

Sarah brushed herself off and looked at the guy on the couch. "Enough of this." she grumbled. She marched over to Miranda and forced her over to the exit of the ring. Morgan rose from the couch and Miranda's eyes went wide. Sai took his que and disappeared in a puff of smoke, he wouldn't have even stayed if it had been his own family. Taking off at a run, Sarah rushed out the ring grabbing Neo's hand. "Lets give them a moment." she smiled and yanked him through the door.

Miranda stood frozen in place. A fevered prayer left her lips to the gods. "Please let this be real and if it be a dream, let me stay in it for eternity." Her skin tingled and her heart raced, she didn't want to move for fear of waking up.

Morgan moved towards her, he had played this moment a thousand times over in his head, but his mouth got the better of him. "Do you really think that I could ever stop loving you? No matter how much time has past, I will always love you, a Chroi."

"To hell with this!" she thought. Miranda had to know if this was real. She flew into his arms and kissed him passionately. In that kissed it sealed their fates. This was no dream, only the very thing they had been waiting for, each other. Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him close. Savoring the taste of him, each movement he made. She pulled her face back from him and opened her eyes, Morgan was still there. "Where have you been?" she asked.

"A coven and you? Where have you been hiding from me?" Morgan face had concern written all over it, even though is eyes were filled with joy.

"Living in a forge. At least I have a fire to keep me warm." She smiled at him. Miranda would have slept on the cold hard ground, homeless if it brought her closer to finding him.

"Tonight you will sleep in a real bed.? He kissed her again, a ting of lust to his voice. Sweeping her small form into his arms, he headed for the door. Morgan had a room waiting for them at the inn. He knew it was the safest place he could take her.

Morgan watch Miranda fall asleep in his arms, a soft sigh leaving her lips once in a while. He wanted nothing more than to stay in her arms. To shower her with kisses and affection the moment she woke, but morning would be here soon and he had to return to the coven. Carefully, he got out of the bed and tucked the covers around her sleeping form. In the back of his mind, as he washed and changed to get rid of her scent, he knew he had to keep her hidden. There was no telling what the coven or Bree would do if they found her. Morgan had lost her once and he vowed he wouldn't lose her again.

Quietly, he wrote her a note, saying that he was sorry for leaving and had a few things to attend to. He promised to be back soon. Morgan smiled, as he signed the note, remembering the first note he ever wrote her in the small cottage in Ireland. He hated leaving her then, and loathed doing it now. Setting the note on the pillow next to her, he stole one last glance at her sleeping face. Joy and fear filled him, as he became one with the lingering shadows of a fading night.

Morgan rolled his shoulder leaning back into the rich leather couch. Both feet rested upon the heavy oak coffee table in front of him. A thick black mug with wisps of steam rising from the bloody colored contents rested in his hand, poised for a sip. His free hand combed through his dirty blonde hair while a thought ridden sigh left his lips. He hadn't seen Miranda since he asked her to marry him at the forge. The memories of her body pressed close to his only brought him a small amount of comfort. Morgan had no idea where she was, but at least he was keeping an eye on the biggest threat to her.

Taking a sip from the mug, a warming sensation trickled through him and quickly faded at the eternal undead chill running through his veins. Morgan stroked his chin in frustration at trying to answer the same pressing questions day in and day out with no luck yet. His jade green eyes briefly glanced at the stairs.

Orange and yellow leaves tumbled after one another in a child like game of tag in the chilly fall breeze. The edge of a violet satin dress danced playfully around Miranda's ankles as she made her way to a small tea shop. All the orders at the forge had been filled, she had cleaned the shop at least three times and finally finished a new enchantment, hopefully it worked. The loneliness finally got the better of her. Pushing open the door to the shop, a soft bell chimed her entrance. The quick rush of warm air to her body made her shiver. Miranda walked in her gaze drifting around the room not caring if it was just her and the shop keep for the night, anywhere was better than the memory ridden forge.

Mint green eyes rested on the figure of Morgan engrossed in pondering the air before him. A tender smile came to her soft pink lips in her stroll towards him playing with a small circular piece of metal in her pocket. "Is this seat taken"'she playfully asked.

His eyes flickered over to her form taking in every inch and his jaw tensed at the sight of the engagement ring. It seemed a vampire could go pale as he shifted and rose from the couch to stand before her. One hand graciously gestured to the seat next to him, "Of course not."

Her sent was intoxicating as she brushed past him to sit. Morgan gave her a warning glare that blatantly stated she shouldn't be here. His jade green eyes flickered to the stairs once more before sitting next to her.

Miranda knew that look, hell she had given it to him plenty of times, but she was not about to go cowering back to the forge. Her mint green eyes seemed to stare straight through him. "I thought I would surprise you." She smiled at him knowing that this had all been a complete accident, but not about to admit it.

A low rumble only the most sensitive of ears would be able to pick up emanated from her throat. Luckily for them, she was happy to remain seated in the comfy chair on the second level just up the stairs. Curled up with a book that such troublesome minds likely shouldn't read, her icy blue eyes scanned the pages, trying to finish. Bree wanted to show just how unimportant the annoyance of chatter downstairs was, that her book had more meaning than life.

Morgan sat next to Miranda, his voice a hushed and meeker than a whisper. He leaned over to her as if to brush something from her shoulder, "You shouldn't have...." his voice trailed off as he tried to find the words. "You shouldn't have left the forge." Leaning back, he refused to let himself look at her face for it would only make him panic more. Rubbing his forehead , he pinched his temples with his thumb and forefinger. A long breath left him, hanging in the air between them like a wall. Morgan's ears perked at the low rumbling up the stairs and a frown formed from his lips to his brow.

Miranda kept her mint green eyes on his face, unable to hear the danger she was in. Matching his whispered tone, she brushed the front of her dress to help cover her words from prying ears. "Then tell me why I should leave. Why should I continue to hide if you have told the counsel." Her voice even whispered carried that serious and stubborn tone. Two fingers brushed the edge of the ring she had spent days working on.

The avid reader felt her anger rising. It would be to easy to demand just who this woman on the couch next to Morgan was, but she decided it would be better to make them both pay for interrupting her. Finishing the passage she was perusing, the little redheaded ice princess stood. Setting the book aside, she casually descended the stairs instead of using her gifts like a normal human being. Her movements were adding tension in little Morgan's shoulders. She had him looped around her finger and at the sight of his increasing worry, she grinned.

"Miranda for hell's sake....After all the times I kept you from the chur..." Morgan went silent, his eyes catching a glimpse of the woman coming down the stairs. All emotion left his face as he rose from the couch. Keeping his body loose, he walked towards the woman and placed himself between her and Miranda. "Seems we have a guest this evening Bree."

Formalities and position, roles and duties, Morgan cursed the day he ever thought of them. The counsel was taking forever on their judgment as to whether or not he could marry Miranda instead of the abomination that smiled down at him. Damn it all! Why did they have to favor Bree all theses years! Miranda stood little chance. Morgan took Bree's hand and brushed a kiss to her knuckles.

Miranda turned to look at the woman coming down the stairs. A cold chill swept her spine, causing her to shiver as she stood. "Good evening." Miranda greeted Bree. In the back of her mind a sensation crept over her thoughts like a snake slithering in the shadows ready to strike. Something was about to go horribly wrong. At the sight of Morgan kissing the woman's hand, she couldn't stay silent even though she probably should have. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" She looked at Morgan, betrayal in her eyes.

Morgan saw the pain in his love's eyes, the subtle changes in their piercing mint green depths. It was painful, no heartbreaking to see it on her beautiful face, but he had to stay where he was, had to play his role to keep her safe. Morgan's face contorted and his lips pursed into a fine line. Damn this night. Rolling his shoulders, trying to find a way to explain this to Miranda without letting Bree know exactly what she meant to him.

"Nonsense, me and my betrothed were just enjoying a cup of tea and some books." Morgan's jade green eyes looked at Miranda, telling her not to jump so quickly to any conclusions. Still holding Bree's hand he lead her to the side of the couch, letting her come close enough to see Miranda, but still keeping barriers between them.

"Oh, a guest?" Bree seemed sincerely excited, though not overly so at the woman before her. A bright smile was given to her and Morgan. A soft rustle came from her blue organza dress as she leaned closer to look at Miranda. "Are we going to treat her to a late supper?" Blue eyes wide and innocently batting at Morgan, a small pouting in her lips. "Or perhaps," Bree tapped her bottom lip and turned her graceful chin to face Miranda, 'she will be treating us." A wild look in her icy blue eyes came with the end of that statement. Sizing up the woman across from her.

"My dear..." Morgan placed a hand on Bree's shoulder and pulled her back from Miranda. It was taking all he had not to wring her neck. "I have told you time and time again, just as we have witches and wolves among us at the coven we do not foul the innocents inside or outside the gates." His words were seething with built up rage. Morgan cast a glare at Bree, while keeping a firm grip on her shoulder, warning her not to push him. He growled lightly, "If you cannot remember this than I shall go to the counsel and recommend that your ".status be reconsidered due to the fact that you cannot abide by my rules."

Another chill claimed Miranda, bringing goosebumps to her flesh. "I will not intrude on what could become a tender moment." She turned to look at Bree, making it very clear that she was not about to be intimidated, if she left it would be her choice. "I can speak with Mr. Doyle another time. I'll just grab a cup of tea to go." Miranda stole a glance at Morgan, as she tried to make her way to the counter.

Bree pulled her shoulder free of Morgan's grip and stood in Miranda's way. "Oh no, please stay." She smiled so very sweetly even with all that darkness underneath her creamy skin. She cherished her black little heart. "In fact I insist. Dear Morgan here will even pay for whatever you like. Isn't that right?" She **** her gaze towards Morgan, her smile still persisting and her footing firm, Miranda was not about to pass her.

Miranda knew she shouldn't try to move past Bree, but she had to do something. Standing between them was breaking her heart. "I think that the two of you should talk about this while I go get that cup of tea. Excuse me." Miranda kept her gaze steady, standing tall while she lifted the front of skirt to walk past Bree to the counter.

Morgan was seething,"You evil, vile woman! How I scorn thee, loathe thee, despise your very existence! I would love to wrap my arms around you neck and strangle the life out of you!"he thought, but held his tongue. "Of course, I don't see why not. If you insist dear she can stay." Morgan stared down Bree. He had to find a way to salvage this. Sarcasticly, he thought running head on into a field of garlic and stakes would be better than this moment.

She didn't bite the young woman at least not yet. Bree gracefully moved out of Miranda's way, her smile unflinching. She took a seat on the couch and leaned back. Whether or not the other woman saw her, she winked at Morgan with a wicked smile. Playfully she patted the seat next to her with a come hither look in her blue eyes.

Taking several deep breaths to keep her steady, she rested on the counter ordering a cup of black tea with a touch of cream. It wasn't long before a delicate porcelain cup and saucer were placed in her hands. Miranda's mint green eyes glanced back at Morgan and Bree, forcing her to fight more tears.

"Can you not be civil in company Bree?" His words a hiss of a whisper. Morgan stood stiffly before her, denying that beckoning look with a clenched jaw. A hard look over took his eyes, but as they drifted to Miranda's back a brief moment of sorrow filled them. He walked over to the counter to pay for her drink and while his back was to Bree he gave Miranda a defeated and broken look. Pulling a few silver coins from his pocket he had to think of a way to tell her, give her some comfort. Shifting slightly he grabbed a napkin and with lighting fast reflexes wrote Achoir acrossed it. Morgan offered the napkin to Miranda hoping she would look at it and understand. He took his expected seat next to Bree with a hard and trying smile plastered to his face. Morgan made certain that there was a generous amount of space between them.

Bree simply grumbled softly like a disappointed cat at Morgan's question and distance. He was going to be hers and that was all there was to it. Sooner or later, she always got what she wanted or someone would get hurt. Bree didn't notice Morgan's secret note to Miranda, but it hardly mattered to her. There were more pressing things to handle. Her icy blue eyes focused intently on Miranda, taking in every inch of her. "So why haven't I met this lovely girl yet, Morgan' Have you been hiding her from me" She is absolutely gorgeous." Bree rested a hand on Morgan's knee, a charming smile on her face. If she meant what she said was debatable, but she was an expert actress when it suited her needs.

Miranda looked at the rushed note on her napkin and held it under the saucer of her cup. To see their term of endearment now only made her heart ache worse than before. A hollow feeling crept into the very core of her, but no matter how much she wanted to fall a part she was not about to show any signs of weakness. She pulled up a chair on the other side of the coffee table from them unable to bare sitting any closer, she tried to appear delicate with her ankles crossed. She wanted to lure Bree into miscalculating her. Taking a sip of tea, Miranda returned the charming smile to Bree. "Mr. Doyle has been helping me establish my forge here in Rhy'din. He has even been so kind as to test some of my weapons in the duels for me." Another sip of tea and she still couldn't shake the cold feeling settling into her chest.

He remained silent, allowing the two to converse. A small scorned look on his face when Bree spoke, always when she spoke. A distasteful looked formed on Morgan's face, both lips curling into a scowl.

"Oh, you have your own little business?" Again Bree remained the charming hostess, proving she could be sickeningly sweet and civil. "Do you make anything besides weapons?" Her gaze flitted over to Morgan, he could surely not be complaining about how civil she had become in a matter of moments. She shifted slightly in her seat, when she looked back at Miranda, she was making Bree hungry.

"I make anything my client wants out of metal. Hopefully, business will pick up soon." Miranda set the tea cup on the table, making sure the note was hidden underneath it. Calculatingly, she pulled a black rose from her hair. "This piece will take the form of whatever weapon it's owner wills it to be." The rose began to twist and turn in her hand, morphing into an elaborate dagger and then back to a rose. Miranda's eyes never left Bree's face a silent challenge past between them. She returned the rose to her hair and sat back in the chair.

Morgan was watching Bree intensely. Not one hand would be put on Miranda so long as he was there to keep Bree from it. She'd lose her head if she even dared. A bitter turn of a brow and his gaze snapped at the glint of steel. Miranda had drawn the line in the sand, but he knew that didn't mean anything to Bree. He gave Miranda a warning look in the stolen moment Bree was paying him no attention. Morgan shifted, hoping to draw Miranda's gaze to him.

Bree looked absolutely delighted at the magic inside the rose and it transformation. It was clear enough to a blind man that Miranda's smile was plastered there against her will and a unspoken threat had been made. She let her delicate fingers dance down the front of Morgan's shirt.

"Oh now that is just plain ingenious." she purred. Bree was actually being sincere for once, but if anyone could tell the difference, they had to be a physic. "I would love to order a custom piece or two. Something to spice up my outfits for my darling." she tenderly kissed Morgan's cheek, hoping to get a rise out of Miranda. "It is even practical." she cooed in his ear. Bree tilted her head curiously, as if asking him what was plaguing him. She kept one one on Miranda and the other on Morgan.

"I would be happy to make pieces for you. Just let me know the color and type of flower you would like." Miranda hid her scowl behind a sip of tea. It was still hot, but the bitter, hollow, aching cold refused to leaver her. Her smile returned while setting the cup back on the coffee table. The small ring pressed against her hip inside her pocket reminding her. Trying to hold herself together, she looked a Bree.

Fishing the ring from her pocket she held it out in front of Bree tauntingly. "Actually, Mr. Doyle has had me working on a prototype to give to you once I get all the bugs worked out of the enchantment." The white gold ring glinted in the pale light revealing in its mirrored finish that it was flawless. "The ring is designed to track its mate. That way the two can always know where their loved one is." A wicked grin came to her face as Bree's eyes lit up.

"This one is his, I'm afraid he forgot to give me the correct size to make yours." Miranda twisted her wrist and move the ring closer to Morgan. "It shouldn't take me to long to make yours."

Morgan leaned forward, taking hold of the ring and slipping it on his left hand. It fit perfectly, the mirrored finish reflecting Miranda's face as he admired it. He was not about to let Bree have it. He was actually grinning , knowing exactly what this entailed. Plus it was fun to watch Bree squirm for the first time this evening. "Cleaver woman isn't she Bree." He was so proud of Miranda and it showed.

Bree's hands had been moving for the ring, but now twitched ever so slightly at being empty. Pulling them to her non beating heart, a perfectly timed gasp of surprise left her. "A ring" For me" You both shouldn't have, that is just darling of you." Deep down she was seething at not being able to get back at Miranda. Morgan had continued to hold his hand out between them admiring his prize. Bree didn't trust easily, but that was a lie, she trusted no one. Especially a woman who Morgan looked at in ways she could never make him, no matter how good her acting. Like the lady of rank she played, Bree rose from the couch.

"I love the idea of a ring to keep an eye out on my love." She looked at Morgan with big doe like eyes, ignoring Miranda entirely now. "But you should go over all the details while I excuse myself for a...snack." Bree's eyes fell on Miranda at the word snack. She was practically giggling as she licked her lips. The urges of her true nature were becoming harder to control. She needed to leave before she simply killed the woman. There was a deep and desperate hunger she had to sedate. Bree moved to the door and rested her hand on the knob, turning back to look at Morgan.

"You should be getting home soon before late darling. Never can be to careful." Her words were tender, but laced with threats to come. Bree blew a kiss to Morgan and waved before exiting the shop. The soft bell chime hanging in the air.

Miranda was only just keeping steady as she returned the wave good bye to Bree. The silence hung between her and Morgan, tuning the hollow ache in her chest to a stabbing pain. It felt like she was suffocating. Miranda wanted to jump out of her chair and give Morgan a piece of her mind, but more than likely Bree was still close enough to hear anything they said. She sat in silence finishing the last of her tea.

Rising from the chair, she felt knees try to buckle, but Miranda was not about to give in to the sorrow now. Steady and graceful, she walked to the counter and returned the empty cup. Miranda's body wanted her to cry, tremble and fall apart, while her mind wanted to scream and say every word that came to it. Turning away from the counter her mint green eyes came to rest on Morgan's face and the mask she had held onto so tightly with Bree around fell, revealing the pain that claimed her. A tired slump rolled her shoulders forward as she rubbed her forehead. "I guess, I should be leaving before your charming....betrothed comes back." Miranda voice held only one tone, soft and trembling.

"Screw her!" Morgan was beyond livid, he jumped up from the couch and started to pace in front of it. He was not going to let Miranda off the hook for leaving the forge. "It's not safe here Miranda. Why couldn' ye' have stayed at the forge" Why didn't ye' wait until I summoned you?" Hell! Why don't you ever be listenin" to me"!"

His anger was boiling inside of him. Bree had been right there in front of Miranda. Anything could have happened and now that manipulative wretch had seen his one and only weakness. "Dammit I know yer' strong, tough, mighty, whatever else might be running through that head o yers', but she could kill you with her pinky! Do you not get that"! Bree is one of the pure and for that she's the counsel's favored. They waste my time being indecisive, knowing they won't get anywhere with me if I can't have you!"

Morgan's hands were shaking. He wanted to hold Miranda, but things had to be made perfectly clear. "Yea know since I requested you as my bride they force me to give her more time at my side." He growled and rubbed his forehead now, a vein throbbing in his brow. All of the thoughts that had been eating at him were spilling out. "My hands are tied, but you insist on thinking that everything is roses. It's not rosy ol'Ireland Miranda, she could kill you! Dammit.....I want to keep you alive, not watch you die!" A memory from centuries ago came back to him in a flash. The image of Miranda laying in a pool of her own blood, the life slowly draining from her eyes. Morgan closed his eyes and covered them with his hand, trying not to let the helpless feeling from then rise in him.

"Don't yea' see?" He ran his hand through his hair and let his gaze fall into hers. "I love you....you silly woman. I'm appeasing her to keep you safe." Morgan couldn't keep his sarcastic humor from rising in his thoughts. "Bloody Irish woman and this *@$&ing game of love. This was surely going to be the death of me."

"You of all people in this world have no right to yell at me!" Miranda pulled herself up to her full height. "I feel like a caged animal in the forge! Watching and waiting every night, scared out of my mind until you can bloody appear! I am not some pet to wait around and be summoned!" It was a fight to keep her accent from coming out. Her whole body was shaking, the bracelets on her wrists turning to liquid. Miranda was not about to back down.

"How was I to now she would be here or what she is capable of doing"! You never told me! I have no intentions of dieing and now you can find me anytime you want! Miranda held up her left hand, showing him the engagement ring. Her anger was starting to fade and it was getting harder to choke back the sobs.

"At least this way, I can know where you are and that you are safe." An exhausted and defeated look consumed her figure and she leaned back on the counter for support. Miranda wanted nothing more than to be in his arms and end this fight, but there was no turning back now from all that was said.

"Bloody hell..." Morgan grumbled and closed the distance between them, coiling his arms around her and resting his chin in the soft curls of her hair. Slow strokes of his palm ran up and down her back, a long sigh leaving him as he cursed under his breath in Gaelic. Both of his eyes closed, a frown forming on his lips. Morgan's fingers curled through her crimson hair before, he stole a glance at those endearing eyes. "Forgive a fool for losing you once and not willing to do so ever again.." Miranda buried her face in his chest and finally let the tears come tumbling down. Tenderly, her arms pulled him closer to her. Being held by him banished the hollow ache that had been clawing at her very soul since meeting Bree. Each muscle relaxed at Morgan's touch. Eventually she found her voice, "Only if you are willing to forgive me the same. I thought I lost you once and I cannot bare to have it happen again Achoir."

"Why did you not listen to the note darling" Why didn't you take it seriously' Morgan chuckled and kissed the top of her head, sighing out coolly against her head. He already knew the answer from that stubborn nature of hers, but he had to get his point across to her. "Why did you not understand that I meant it?" His fingers teased through her hair, tangling and combing through it slowly.

"It doesn't matter what I thought or why I didn't listen." Miranda sighed. "I am just going to have to trust that you can keep yourself safe. I have always hated standing by and doing nothing, especially when it comes to you." She put a great deal of emphasis on just how much hated it. Snuggling deeper into his arms, Miranda kissed his chest right over his heart. "I love you so please be safe."

"Achoir...Achoir.." he whispered, continuing to comb through her hair. Morgan spun her around, wrapping his arms even tighter around her delicate form. Miranda's small giggle of delight, music to his ears. He was going to prove it, prove every word. His fingers rubbing along her back for a second before lifting her up and cradling her in his arms.

Miranda smiled at Morgan and hoped he would stay with her tonight. In the back of her mind she still worried about Bree, about this whole mess they were caught in, but in this moment with Morgan was more important. If tonight could be the last time she held him in her arms, the very last memory, then she intended to make it last.

Mint green eyes filled with worry and anger stared out into the pale lights of the street daring the shadows to come forward, anything other than watch her every move. The edge of a cream colored skirt brushed the top of soft brown leather boots, the only sound to fill the forge. Weapons glistens in the light from being honed so finely, ill intent at the edge of madness. She slammed the window shut at seeing yet another pair of glowing eyes.

Miranda paced the stone floor running a hand through the tangles of her curly hair.

"Where is he"!"

In a fast and hard turn, her fist slammed into the door trying to force its way to the other side out of shear rage and pain. Her calloused knuckles split as she leaned to rest her weary head on the solid oak door. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks as blood traced the grain of the wood.

Choking on a scream in her throat, Miranda refused to let them get the upper hand. She wanted so baldy to go hunt Bree down instead of remaining here like a delicate and weak house wife. A pained gasp left her as she continued to fight the scream turning away from the door to try and keep herself from running out it.

Nothing was making sense, her mind swam in an endless fog of thoughts and emotions. Exhaustion and adrenaline fighting in her veins while her heart tried to break the very ribs that held it in her chest. Miranda's skin crawled as her body flashed from hot to cold. She couldn't stop the sinking feeling in her stomach that kept her nauseous.

Her flesh started burned with anger as she slammed her back against the door, turning her head to the ceiling. Shaking with an unearthly rage laced with fear at what could be happening to Morgan. He was the one facing the coven. He was the one facing that black hearted woman playing a game of whits to try and keep her from killing. Miranda had never felt more useless and helpless.

Silver slithered with power and chaos, trying to consume the green of her eyes. Each breath was becoming more unstable than the last. Miranda was losing control. A pained groan left her lips as she wrapped one hand around her ribs the other trying to keep her from falling to the floor by bracing against the stone lip of the forge.

Emotions churned in her like a violent storm at sea, one lapping over the other with not an end in sight. No time to catch your breath. No one to hear you screams and pleas. The only thing holding her together, the flesh her very tormented soul was bound in.

Taunting whispers reached her ears out of the black shadows creeping across the floor, reaching, clawing for the tattered remains of her sanity.

"Miranda, you know you can't save Morgan." It's words tinged with mailace and seduction.

"You can't even attempt to defend yourself against that woman, what makes you think Morgan will fair any better" Blood will feed the ground in time."

She tried to shut her eyes the pain becoming worse. Clasping her hands over her ears.

"Stop it!" Tears carved their way down her now ashen face, her powerful voice starting to grow faint.

"His first when the coven picks Bree and then she becomes the leader after an accident." The simpering voice started to chuckle.

The shadows began to climb up her dress trying to hold her in place. Forcing her limbs to feel heavy and numb.

"Then your blood will spill. Slow at first. Bree wouldn't waste such sweet blood tinged with magic and mixed with pain. Your death will be horrific and agonizing till your last breath." Power rose in that voice, echoing inside Miranda's skull bringing pain with each word.

A tormented cry tore from her lips as she felt the shadows yanking at her arms. Her body becoming weaker with each passing second. The window to the forge flew open and cold air flooded the room. In that split second Miranda ran.

Down the streets of Rhy'din, she raced for the duels, a single metal rose cutting into her hand. The scent of copper filled her nose and only made her run faster. Miranda said the one thing that kept pounding in her heart.

"Morgan." His name hung on her lips bring new tears and left her gasping for air.

Finally outside the duels her mind started to clear although be it slow and painful. She had fled like a child running from their own shadow. Neo and Sarah could be inside and they would ask questions is she couldn't get herself under control.

Sarah was having enough problems with the void and Neo was focused on her. Miranda couldn't bring herself to drag them into the danger that she was in anymore then they already were. Bit by bit her mind became more calculating through the storm of emotions. Both her heart and breathing became steady. Wiping the remnants of her tears away Miranda had made up her mind.

She would suffer in silence. Face the demons of the dark on her own, to keep her friends, to keep Morgan alive.

Miranda entered the duel to find it was a night for fists. Holding her head high and putting on the mask of the noble woman she was suppose to be back home, she took the first duel offered to her from a mouthy man named Guaire. Rage filled her every blow as she intended to show him his place. Each hit taken and given made her will stronger, her mind sharper. It was here in the ring that she had control over the night, a safe haven for her sanity.

By the end of the duel the man had turned respectful, calling her lady Branson. The title stuck in her ears and brought a sour taste to her mouth. She had been foolish to think that by acting the title given to her at birth that it would make this all go away. Miranda had to be herself, acting was Bree's little trick and she would not bring herself down to that vampire's level.

"Please Guaire, call me Miranda." She allowed herself a smile still fighting the emotions trying to bubble their way out of her. It was in that moment a new friendship started to bloom, a distraction from the pain that consumed her very soul.

The challenge she had issued brought nothing. Each street light showed her alone, waiting and still they let her walk. Chin held high she entered the forge and the heavy bolt slid into place. Taking deep and steady breaths in the back of her mind chiding was starting.

"What the hell made you think that would accomplish anything other than keep you in danger!" You are acting like a stubborn child! So much like your father no less on being threatened! There is more involved in this than you!"

Naturally her hands went to the tender flesh of her temples rubbing. Trying to sort out and justify what was to late to correct. Mint green eyes focused on the shadows slinking out of their corners with wicked grins. Tonight was different.

They kept their distance, as if waiting for something to bring her to them. Fat chance of that! When a Branson submits will be the day hell goes through their first ice age.

Taking a moment to rest her aching bones on the edge of the stone still warm from the banked coals, Miranda felt something shift beside her. The distinct tone of metal on stone. A quick glance had her heart shattering.

Numbly, fingers wrapped around the ring she had made for Morgan and a note clearly written by his hand.

"My darling, I fear that it is time for us to part ways. If only to save you. Even if the counsel were to agree to us marrying I don't have the heart to take your life and change you. Let alone ask you to marry me only to have you witness my death and become a widow just as quickly. I want you to find happiness without me. Trust that my heart is breaking too as I write each word. I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms and shower you with the love you deserve, but I can't bring myself to keep on hurting you. I will continue to have myself and those I trust keep eyes on you, just in case this does not sedate Bree's lust for your death. I won't let anything happen to you my Achoir."

Tears raced down her cheeks as she took off the ring he had given her and placed them safely in a lock box made by her own hands. The pair resting hard and heavy against the wooden bottom. Mint green eyes turned silver as she saw the shadows come closer. Like dogs crawling on their bellies begging for a long awaited treat. To lap at her tears and tear her face off in the process.

"Don't even think for a second this means I go willingly.?

Miranda stirred the coals and grabbed a blanket. Tonight she would stay up staring them down. Only one would give in tonight and she was not about to let it be her.