The next day, Charlotte awoke and the first thing she did was taking off her necklace and handing it off to Arran.

Arran did not take the necklace right away, he stood and took a few deep breaths.

"Take it and wear it, Arran. You must."

"Charlotte, I—"

"You must."

Arran sighed, took the necklace, and put it around his neck.

Charlotte nodded her satisfaction that her plan was put into practice.

Her condition deteriorated pretty much right away. Her skin turned bluish, and her breath was shallow.

"Charlotte!" Arran hugged her when her knees failed her and she began to slump.

"Take the necklace. I have battled Rogh's influence my whole life, I have more experience than you ..."

Charlotte gathered her strength and flicked Arran's hand who was going to take off his necklace. "Don't you dare taking it off—" she trembled but managed to state her words clearly enough. "I am strong enough, Arran."

Arran carried her to the bed and laid her there. He brought warm tea for her, of which she just drank a sip. He asked if she wanted to eat anything and she shook her heard. Her whole body felt cold again.

Her memories of all the good in her life, of Dad, of Mom, of her friends, her accomplishments, her clown-for-hire side business, all started to fade away.

"Pl-play the flute, Arran. Please. For me," she took Arran's flute that laid next to her on the bed, and handed it to him.

Arran hesitated, though he took the flute.

"Please. It'll be good for you ... for me."

Arran seemed to think hard about something, then he took a deep breath, and began to play the flute.

Charlotte's tears began to stream down her cheek when she heard the flute music. It was sad, but it was also uplifting. The crisp melodic sound of the instrument filled the quiet air, touched her soul, the barren and cold soul battling immora. She focused on Arran who sat in front of her, and her mind tried to hold on to all the sacrifice that he had made for her.

She let her mind wander off freely.

I have lost trust in love since the last relationship, a relationship I hoped would be my one last haven, a haven where I would rest and lay my head down. Jason, that jerk, has destroyed me. A control freak with jealous rage that has prevented me from applying to so many cool opportunities because he said I was not good enough. I trusted him! I never told this to anyone, but after we broke up, I found out that he had been cheating on me with my lab research assistant, this cute undergrad that he met a few times at the department's party.

But now. Now I am—kind of—married to Arran.

He seems so different from Jason, and from the guys before Jason.

Dad, oh my old sweet Dad. You would love to hear this, but maybe you are right. Maybe a good man is not a myth.

Charlotte struggled to focus on Arran and his music. Her eyes looked straight at Arran—his face was not ugly, in fact he had quite a pleasant, handsome look, with ruggedness that masked the fragility and the sensitivity below it. His clear blue eyes that spoke of deepening wounds and stubborn hope, of intense passion and chaste curiosity.

She groaned when the coldness seemed to intensify, and again she let her mind wander, clawing bits and pieces of whatever she remembered to think about, and surprisingly, it was all about Arran ...

He is kind of a myth indeed.

An immortal, a half-demon. Guess you would be having issues with him being half demon.

I would love it so much for you to meet him, Dad.

Yes.

The first ever guy that I want you to meet. I remember you and Mom beg me to bring Jason home to meet you guys and I said not yet. I was right. Jason was not good enough to earn the privilege to meet you.

But this one. This one is the good one. The one, if I survive this-this demon thing inside me.

I think, I do think he is special to me.

If I survive this, this immora, I want you to meet him. I want you to get to know the man that I have chosen ...

"Charlotte?" Arran stopped playing the flute and moving closer to her, tapping her hand.

She tried to nod, to acknowledge that she had heard Arran, but she ended up slumping and pulling her knees closer to her chest because of the cold. Her lips felt stiff, it made it difficult for her to speak. She could run sentences in her mind, but to speak it out loud was tough.

"Please, Charlotte. Wear this necklace," Arran was getting ready to take off his necklace again.

"No. No. I am strong enough till tomorrow, till ... till we take turn again!" Charlotte shook her head hard.

Arran's eyes grew somber in his worry and helplessness. "You are stubborn," he huffed in clear desperation.

Charlotte heard that, and she realized she wanted to smile. She could not smile, but she did grab Arran''s hand tighter and whispered,"Well, tough luck, sweetheart. I'm your wife."

Arran's eyes widened at that sentence, it was like he was surprised he had a wife, and he needed to get used to a whole strange new role. He leaned closer to Charlotte and whispered,"I have something that will help you feel a bit better. I hope."

Charlotte tilted her head in curiosity.

Arran stood up, walked to the table, and took the red clown nose that was still laying on the table. With the clown nose in his hand, he walked back to Charlotte, sat next to her, and leaned closer as his hand put the clown nose on his own nose.

That was quite a success.

Charlotte's eyes, for a brief moment, shone in surprise, and she managed to finally crack a smile. A thin, fleeting smile, but a smile nevertheless. "Arran ... you are a warrior, a gardener, a good one at those. Not a clown," she whispered.

"You do not think I can be a good clown? Like you?"

"I do not see you playing and singing some nursery rhymes with-with c-c-children."

"Well—" Arran thought for a bit, then pinched his clown nose and spoke,"Well, you will be surprised of what I will do for you."

"Do-do you like c-children?"

Arran seemed startled by her question, but she was curious. "I-well, when I sneaked out of the fence, I would go around here, and sometimes I saw children. They would be with their family. They looked so ... so happy. Though they could cry a lot, and very loud."

"And you do not ... mind it? The crying and the ... th-the loudness?" Charlotte heaved as she struggled to finish her question.

Arran lifted his eyes and stared to the wood ceiling when he answered,"I have lived in this castle as a demon's son, Sylve and everyone else make sure I remember that. Always. After all this, to live out there, with crying, loud children, it would be a reprieve for me. A blessing. So ... no, I do not mind it." Arran sighed and took away his clown nose and put it back on the table.

Charlotte was going to say something but a sudden shot of sharp pain in her stomach made her scream while grabbing the bedsheet till her knuckles turned white.

It was then Arran decided to just take off his necklace and put it around Charlotte's neck.

Charlotte saw it but she was trying hard to withstand the pain that she could not do anything to prevent Arran's action.

"Wear it for now, Charlotte. You can be angry at me later."

Enchanted necklace created by Evinia worked wonders indeed. The sun pendant glowed a gentle light, and Charlotte felt warmth that beat the cold in her body.

Arran nodded at Charlotte's scabbard with the small knife in it which was still hanging from her belt. "The knife. Charlotte, remember, do not hesitate to-to stab me if I turn demonic," he looked at Charlotte in all seriousness, his breath started to get heavier as the influence of Rogh got to him more without the necklace.

No. No I will not stab you. How could I? was all that ran in Charlotte's mind, but exhaustion after fighting immora took over and she just fell in deep sleep.

<<<>>>

Charlotte must have slept for hours and hours because when she woke up, the day had turned into night.

Her head was clearer, and she did not feel cold anymore.

She sat up. "Arran!" she shouted.

Her eyes took a bit of time to adjust the the dim room.

She scanned the room, and saw him.

He sat on the floor, hugging his knees to his chin, and groaning.

Charlotte jumped out of bed, got to Arran, and as she tried to take off her necklace to give to him, Arran let out a roar and stood up in front of her in one suddent movement.

She shrieked in surprise, stood back a couple steps, and saw Arran standing two arm-lengths from her. His blue eyes was devoid of emotions, and his skin was pale-bluish.

"No, no ..." Charlotte whispered to herself.

"Arran is mine, almost completely now. Soon, very soon, Sylve and her dumb followers will figure it out and what a party it will be!" Arran opened his mouth, but what came out was not his voice. It was raspy and hoarse, a voice that made Charlotte tremble in fear.

"No ... Rogh, how dare you!" Charlotte was scared, but she realized she was more furious than scared.

Arran shook, and he spoke again, this time with Arran's voice. "Charlotte, stab me. Stab me now. Rogh is in my mind, he is there. I do not know how long I can withstand him."

"Here is your necklace!" Charlotte walked up to him.

"No! No. Keep it. Please. It is too late for me."

"No. Not too late. You are mine, Arran. Not Rogh," with that she continued walking to Arran, and stopped half an inch from his nose. "Give me your right hand, Arran."

"Charlotte, no. Please stab me."

"Your right hand."

Arran trembled like he was fighting something, and Charlotte knew she would be dead if Rogh took over him now. But something within her, something stronger than her fear, something that made her plant her feet and stood still with the necklace in her hand: That determination that she would not lose Arran, not tonight, not here, not to Rogh.

"Arran, please ..."

Arran still seemed like he was fighting something in his mind, he shook his head, and finally in stumbling movement, he lifted his right hand.

Charlotte took his hand, and wrapped the long necklace around it, before finishing wrapping the necklace around her own left wrist. Her left wrist and Arran's right wrist were now connected by the necklace as they stood face to face, the sun pendant dangled in between their two wrists, glowing gently. The necklace was long enough for them to still be able to move their connected hands easily. Charlotte nodded and spoke to Arran,"We both need this. We share. This way may not be a great way, but it is a way."

"Charlotte ..." Arran whispered in surprise at what she had just done.

"I cannot lose you, Arran ..." she whispered back as she looked up and her nose touched the tip of Arran's nose. "I do not want to lose you."

Arran recovered from his surprise, and closed his eyes. "I do not want to lose you too, Charlotte. You-you are my light."

He wrapped his left arm around Charlotte's waist, and slowly pulled her closer.

Charlotte was not sure whether the warmth that made her feel better now was from the long necklace wrapped around her wrist or from how close she was to Arran.

It did not matter anymore.

Arran's breathing did get slower, and he was trembling, but his eyes showed much more warmth now.

"He is still whispering his filth in my mind, but his voice is softer, like something has muffled it. I think I can fight him, Charlotte."

"Of course you can. We are in this together. We fight together. Arran, do you hear me?" she caressed Arran's facial tattoo with her free hand.

Arran brought her even closer to him, and she could hear the thumping of his heart and her heart became harmonious. When he leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips, she knew there was no other place she'd rather be other than there, in Arran's arms.

The warmth and longing in Arran's kiss startled her at first, but she welcomed it like a bulb of flower that had been buried deep in frozen soil for so long and finally found the sunlight.

"Charlotte ... I ..." Arran whispered, and Charlotte did not let him finish his words, and let the words be swallowed by her lips.

Her mind was not in her own, faraway, world for now. She was in Arran's private world, a world noone he ever let enter, and him in hers, reigniting memories of corporeal pleasure in every inch of her body.

When Arran guided her to step back to the wall behind her, she did exactly that. With her back leaning to the wall and Arran in front of her, they drowned in their own world—a dizzying world of quiet air and gasping breaths, of yearning touch and blazing desire, of halted whisper and hushed moan, of a love that was found, and a world that was created by and for just the two of them ...

A world that existed in its own bubble, with the quiet night outside, the demon that lurked beneath the earth, and the sorcery that surrounded them. Their world, for a moment, was without all those. Their world was warm and safe and pleasurable as their bodies entangled, their bare skin touched each other, and their heavy breaths were all they heard.

Time passed by, and they took their time. Slowly, meticulously, and bravely.

When they were done, they kept their body close to each other, and Charlotte lifted up her face, touching her nose to Arran's as she spoke ...

"You still look at me so bashfully even after ... what we ... have done," Charlotte smiled as she struggled to contain her breath, her hand ran the length of the tattoo on Arran's face, damp with sweats and her husband just gazed into her eyes, bashful and surprised at what had just happened between them. His dark hair was moist from sweats as well, and she could feel the stickiness of her own hair falling on her face.

"I think I will-will be forever bashful in front of you," Arran whispered.

They helped each other fixing their clothing which by now was a tangled mess, then Charlotte started feeling it. Something strange.