Past Lives

He was huge, six foot ten of lean hard muscle. Wearing a long black jacket that stopped just above his ankles, black hat with the brim pulled down hiding his features in shadow. Black shirt and trousers. Grey and black striped tie and grey gloves. Shiny black shoes and trims that covered the lower half of his legs. For such a huge man he moved with such grace and elegance.

Paul was the first to enter the ring, clutching the urn to his chest like a prized procession. Undertaker followed him in, holding his coat out of the way he climbed the ring steps, walked along the ring apron and stepped gracefully through the second rope, keeping a hold of his hat so that it wasn't knocked off. He turned letting his coat fall back into the correct position and walked towards the centre of the ring. Paul walked towards me with the urn raised. He gave a small start of surprise when he saw a woman referee standing before him. He passed me the urn and made me stand there holding it while he went back to Undertaker who was glaring at me. Undertaker held an arm out at his side, letting Paul pull the jacket down and off his arm, repeating the process for the other arm. Paul draped the coat over his arm and stood in front of Undertaker. He reached up and yanked the tie off and placed it on top of the jacket. For the first time since entering the ring Undertaker moved; placing one hand to the front brim of his hat and the other at the back he tilted his head forward and slowly removed his hat and passed it to Paul. Paul walked to the ropes and passed the clothes to the man waiting to take them back to the dressing room.

In the mean time Undertaker had turned his attention back onto the urn and the person holding it. Me. He walked towards me, his long slow steps eating up the distance. He tugged on his glove and started raising his arm. Then he stopped, starring first at the urn and then at me. I could swear that he was seeing something that nobody else could. He started forward again and I found myself backed into a corner. I tried holding the urn out to him, knowing that that was the thing he was drawn to, his source of power.

He kept coming, not stopping until the urn was pressed between us. I looked up at him, not an easy thing to do standing so close to someone fourteen inches taller than you. His cold green eyes were glittering down at me, trying to see into my soul. I berated myself for thinking such things, he's just a man, even if he is the most perfect man you have ever seen.

Dark auburn hairs hangs down to his shoulders in soft curls, framing his strong handsome face as he looked down at me. I'd rather hoped not to get this close to any of the wrestlers, especially this man, as closeness tended to mean danger. I could feel Paul reaching for the urn, but Undertaker's body was blocking him and I couldn't move to pass it to him as it was been pressed firmly into my body as he leant against it. "Who are you?" I swear I could feel his low growl vibrate through the urn and into my chest. Paul pulled on his hair forcing him to back off. Undertaker did not look the least bit happy at that but stood back a few feet tugging on his gloves. I quickly passed the urn over to Paul. With one last, long glare in my direction Undertaker followed Paul and the urn as Paul exited the ring.

The Undertaker's opponent tried to get the jump on him, attacking while he was watching Paul leave the ring. He struck him with a forearm between the shoulder blades. I signalled for the bell to be rung as Undertaker very calmly turned around and gave his opponent his full attention. He was beaten to the punch several times but kept on stalking the other man, showing no signs that the blows were affecting him in any way. His opponent backed up, desperation in his eyes when he realised that he'd probably made the worse decision in his life by signing for this match.

Undertaker grabbed the man by the throat in a chokehold and pushed him back into a corner, leaning against the ropes for extra leverage. He had to the count of five to break the hold, he refused to let go until I reached the count of four. I had to skip out of the way then as he turned his attention on me, his eyes were still rolled back in his head. Reaching back he slapped on another chokehold and I counted to four again. This time he started stalking me. Dwayne staggered out of the corner and leant over the ropes. Undertaker turned him around and grabbed his wrist. Pulling him off the rope he knocked him down with a short-armed clothesline. Walking over I checked on him then had to move quickly out of the way as Undertaker approached, tugging on his glove again. He reached down and pulled Dwayne back to his feet only to knock him over with a jab of his fingers to his throat.

Dwayne managed to score a hit with a piledriver, Undertaker sat straight back up. Another one, Undertaker sat up again. A third one, Undertaker got part way up then collapsed back down to the mat. Getting over confident Dwayne didn't go for the pin, just stood there mocking Undertaker as he lay flat out. Paul Bearer climbed onto the ring apron, buying more time for his man to recover. For his troubles he was knocked off the apron, loosing the urn in the process. I gave him some verbal and turned back around. Dwayne had got the urn and was preparing to strike Undertaker over the head with it. Rushing over I grabbed the urn from him. He turned around to strike me for interfering. Undertaker grabbed his arm and whipped him across the ring. As Dwayne came back off the ropes he was met by an airborne Undertaker. Undertaker spun around on one knee and raised his hand to the urn, climbing back to his feet he pulled Dwayne back up, picking him up he spun him around and dropping him on his head with a tombstone piledriver. He folded the man's arms over his chest and I counted the pin and signalled for the bell. It wasn't until then that I realised that I was still holding the urn. I looked at Undertaker. He was standing over his fallen opponent looking down at the man. Suddenly he turned his head to look at me. I looked around desperately for Paul Bearer but he was on the other side of the ring and Undertaker was between him and me. There was no way to get the urn back to him without going past Undertaker first and I didn't feel up to another confrontation. I kept an eye on him as I backed away.

It was like been in a cage with a black panther, never knowing if your next move would be the one to set off an attack. Kneeling down I placed the urn on the mat, keeping my eyes locked on his. Feeling with certainty that breaking eye contact would be a fatal mistake. Standing back up I backed away from the urn, still keeping an eye on Undertaker. He glanced down at the urn then brought his eyes back to mine. My back hit the ropes making me jump slightly, I stepping through the second rope onto the ring apron, still trying to maintain eye contact. I jumped from the apron to the ground and made my way backstage, I could feel his eyes on me the entire way.

I sat down in the back with the other referees, there weren't to many of them as a flu epidemic had taken most of the regular ones out of action. Which was why I had just been out, my regular refereeing duties were normally restricted to the preliminary matches as they didn't think that a woman would be able to control some of the bigger superstars. After been out there with one of the biggest I was inclined to agree with them. A cold can was waved under my nose, I looked up to see that Earl Hebner, the head referee, was the one doing the offering. I took the can gratefully running it over my forehead.

"Just don't put me in with him again." Earl looked at who I was looking at. "Looking like a zebra," I pulled on the front of my black and white striped shirt, "does not mean I want to be stalked by some big black panther." Earl laughed, used to my referring to the wrestlers by animals they reminded me of. Hulk Hogan was a bear, Ultimate Warrior was a Tasmanian devil, Macho Man was a peacock and Undertaker was most definitely a black panther, beautiful and lethal. "Am I done for the night?"

I made my way to the ladies locker room. It was empty, as both Sherri and Elizabeth were both due at ringside for the last match. God, this headache was getting bad. I pulled a bottle of aspirin out of my bag. I shook a couple of them out into my hand and starred at them for a minute then put them back into the bottle. I hated taking tablets of any kind, even aspirin, so I decided to let the shower ease the pain.

His hand wrapped around my throat holding me still. I tried unsuccessfully to wiggle out of his grip while desperately keeping a hold on my towel. Suddenly his mouth was on mine and I went still at the sensation. Such soft gentle lips. The kiss deepened and I felt myself responding to it. I groaned his name, his real name, as his lips travelled over my jaw. At the sound of his name his lips came back to mine, his tongue gently probing between my lips.

Opening my eyes I could see concrete. I was huddled on the floor in a foetal position my body shaking from what I had just gone through. Sherri and Elizabeth helped me over to one of the benches. I looked around fearfully but Paul and Undertaker were nowhere in sight. The two women had identical looks of concern on their faces, guess it's not everyday that you find a near naked referee passed out on the floor. Elizabeth hurried off and came back with a doctor.

Getting dressed I made my way outside to my bike. After checking that my phone was fully charged and that I'd got everything necessary for three days on my own I climbed onto my Harley and started it up. I just loved the engine roar that could only come from one of these beasts. I spun around feeling eyes on me again. I looked around but could see nothing, must be imagining things. I put my bike into gear and peeled out of the car park.

"I only caught a quick glance at the list." He could still feel the panic when he had heard footsteps down the hall while he had been checking Vince's computer records. "She has to take a lot of prescription drugs, most of which I've never even heard of, but a lot of them are dream suppressants. It looks like she's got a few mental problems."

As Paul drove them, following Jess at a safe distance, he remembered what he had seen in the ring. He'd looked around for his urn and spotted the ref. holding it. Knowing how Undertaker felt about it, Paul took a great deal of delight in passing it to the unsuspecting refs. They didn't deserve the honour of touching it, no one did.

Black tendrils of energy were flowing from the urn and heading straight for the unsuspecting ref. As he had watched, they had started to enter through her nose and mouth, pulsing back and forth with each breath she had taken. How many years ago was it when the same had happened to him? He knew that no one else could see what was happening and she was unaware of it, been focussed on his approach.

When Paul had taken back the urn it had broken the link, pulling most of the blackness back out of her, but some had been left behind. When she had grabbed it off the wrestler she had, whether she knew it or not, been incapable of putting it down as the blackness had reached out to her again. Only her fear of what he would do to her had given her the strength to leave it behind.

He'd liked what he had seen when she came out of the shower and when he had touched her he had been overwhelmed with the need to taste her. As his lips had touched hers he had realised with certainty just who, or what, she was. His name escaping her lips had him wanting to hear her say it again. He wanted to hear her groan it while he made love to her, scream it as they came together.

Putting the urn into her hands had produced the desired response but this time with greater force. The blackness had covered her face, forcing it's way into her, panic filling her eyes as she had collapsed to the floor. But once again Paul had interfered, grabbing the urn and pulling him out of the room. He'd taken one last look at her, body curled up on the floor, shivering and moaning at whatever she was seeing.

I pulled up at the base of the hill and dismounted my bike. Walking along, with torch in hand, I came across what I was looking for. A cave. Over the years I spent quite a few nights here. Not many people knew about the caves, which meant that it was quiet. It was the perfect place to just forget about everything and just think.

Finally I reached it, rummaging around in a bag I found what I was looking for. I unscrewed the top off the bottle and tried to shake a couple of tablets onto my hand. A grenade went off right behind me and the bottle flew from my hand, scattering tablets all over the place. I dropped to my knees searching for some of them. All I found was mud, blood, metal and body parts.

Suddenly she was gone and I found myself standing atop a castle, looking out into the night sky. Strong arms wrapped around my waist and I was pulled back against a hard muscled body. Once again I felt safe. His long hair blew around my face as he nuzzled the side of my neck. I turned in his embrace, wrapping my arms around his waist as I buried my face against his chest. We stood like that, arms wrapped around each other, his long leather cloak surrounding us as it stirred gently in the warm breeze. I was home.

"My boss knows all about my `condition'. Earl is just a co-worker and I don't want anyone treating me like a freak for something that, until a couple of nights ago, hasn't happened for over five years." I could feel the powerful tablets starting to work and my head started to go slightly woollen. He'd given me the most potent of my tablets. I hated taking these as they knocked me out. "Your not going to keep me here are you?"

I nodded my agreement and lay back on the bed as the drugs took a hold. I had no intention of taking them regularly as they affected my life too much. Making it difficult for me to make decisions. The next day I discharged myself and rode down to the next venue. I was pulled into Vince's temporary office as soon as I walked into the arena.

Undertaker's match was one of the last of the night and once again I was standing in a corner watching as he made his way down to the ring. As soon as he got into the ring he turned his head and fixed his gaze upon me. Paul walked over with the urn and tried to make me take it. I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. There was absolutely no way I was touching the urn again and I told Paul as much. He thrust it towards me again and I hopped back out of reach.

I could feel his eyes on me the whole time but I refused to look at him. I eased the sleeve of his coat off his arm, my fingers brushing against his bare skin. I shivered slightly as I felt the warmth of his skin against my fingers. Moving behind him I went to his over side removing the coat from his shoulders as I went, watching the play of muscles across his back. I pulled the coat off his other arm and folded it over my arm.

I stood directly in front of him and reached my right hand up to grab his tie, the back of my hand resting against the broad expanse of his chest, feeling his heart beat against my hand. I snatched down and removed his tie. His shirt opened slightly revealing the light dusting of hair on his chest. I placed the tie on top of the coat and waited. His hands moved and he grasped the brim of his hat, front and back. Tilting his head forward he slowly removed the hat.

My eyes met his for the first time that night. I felt the breath catch in my throat as I starred into the light green depths of his eyes. Looking at him I could remember the feel of his lips against mine as surely as if he were kissing me again. I could also remember something else. A memory, that wasn't my own tugging at my mind. Begging me to remember something. The clash of swords. A man's embrace.

Undertaker could see the pulse beating in her throat as she looked at him. She was staring into his eyes, but remembering something else. He looked back into her eyes watching as they changed colour as blackness washed over dark green. Knowing that now wasn't the time, he placed his hat into her hand, snapping her back to reality.

Undertaker walked down to the ring. Pleased to see that Jess was waiting for his arrival. His opponent meant less than nothing to him, as his one goal tonight was to get the urn into her hands. She looked scared, a rabbit caught in headlights, knowing that something bad was going to happen but not knowing quite what it was.

The black tendrils gently brushing against her face. By the look in her eyes she could feel the touch but, once again, was powerless against it. Her hair stirred as the tendrils moved through the strands as they gently wrapped around her head, almost a lovers caress, the tips came around and gently touched her lips, asking for entry. As her mouth reluctantly parted a tendril gently entered her mouth.

Her scream echoed around the arena then she went deadly still. While two of the refs carried her backstage the others grabbed Undertaker and tried to hold him back. Wrestlers arrived from the back and helped, even then it was no easy task and even with everyone trying to stop him he still managed to force he way passed them and made his way backstage.

He stood there, silently watching as the paramedics worked on her lifeless body. As he made no move towards her they let him just stand there. Finding no pulse, breathing or heartbeat they started CRP on her. When that failed they tried to shock her heart back into action. Ripping her shirt and bra out of the way. They tried five times, continuing the CPR while they waited for the machine to charge. Nothing.

Just as I was beginning to think I would never stop I came to rest, face down in grass. I stood up with a moan of pain. My right arm was hanging limp at my side. My one thought was `get to safety'. I took a step, oh god, the pain. Sharp arrows of agony shot through my left hip and leg. I fell to my knees putting my arms out instinctively to stop my fall. Blackness engulfed me as my body gave way under the pain.

The next thing I saw was the sun rising above the horizon streaking the sky with red. For a brief moment I forgot about all my troubles and just watched the sun rising. Then I made the mistake of stretching. The pain in my arm was as bad as before. I could tell from the angle of my shoulder that it was dislocated but my hand and wrist were swollen and bruised indicating at the very least a bad sprain but more than likely a broken bone.

I looked around. On one side of me was the rock and tree covered hill I had fallen down; there was no shelter on it and I couldn't climb back up it. On the other side was a forest; I needed to head for that, but to get there I had to cross a wide open area of grass, which I currently sitting in, then a road and finally another area of grass.

I reached the road, just starting to let myself believe that I could make it, when I heard horses approaching. `Please God, don't let it be them.' My hopes were dashed once again when I saw the banner that one of the riders was carrying, a purple `T' with two stakes crossed together through it on a black background. I looked around desperately, no hiding places, no weapons, nothing. I hurried my steps towards the forest hoping that they hadn't seen me

A cry from one of the men and the sound of horses speeding up signalled yet more of my hopes being dashed. There was another shout and the horses stopped. I glanced over at the riders. All, but one, were turning their horses and heading away from me. The lone rider approached, slowly. He was obviously confident that he could catch me, as he didn't even bother trotting his horse over. I stood there and watched him approach. Everything was black, his clothes, his hair even his horse.

I started to back away from him, my eyes travelling up his body to his face. Some people would not consider him handsome but I thought he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Strong jaw line, wide forehead, slightly up-tilted nose, goatee beard, full lips. My eyes met his and I stopped moving backwards. They were the most beautiful pair of green eyes I had ever seen. It felt as if he were peeling away all my layers and looking straight into my soul.

My limbs suddenly grew heavy and my eyes drifted shut. I could feel his hands moving over my shoulder and a steady increase in pressure but no pain. Then his hands were on my hip repeating the process. All the while he was chanting the same thing over and over. Then the chant changed and I could feel myself coming around. I staggered slightly as I opened my eyes. The pain in my arms and hip were gone as were my other bruises.

Strong hands gripped my waist and I was hoisted into the saddle as if I weighed no more than a feather. He swung into the saddle behind me. So close that I could feel every inch of him against my back. He gathered the reigns up and urged his horse into a walk. He passed me a piece of bread and dried meat to nibble on. After a few minutes we met up with his men who were guarding the road.

"Come." He took told of my hand and tried to move me. I pulled against him terror stricken at what Paul had said. I pulled for all I was worth trying to twist my arm loose from his grip. He was unmoving easily resisting my attempts to break free with no effort at all. He shifted the position of his fingers, gently pressing the tips to various points on my hand and wrist. Suddenly I stilled feeling all resistance leave my body. He tugged gently on my hand and I followed placidly to a large tent.

Marcus turned his back on me and started to loosen his armour. I backed up towards the entrance. I wasn't sure what I was going to do when I got out of the tent, but I was NOT going to be sacrificed. I kept my eyes on Marcus as I crept backwards. I could feel the tent flaps against my back, then I felt something else. I yelped with pain and jumped forward, it felt as if I had been struck by lightning. I stood there looking at the tent flap, rubbing my backside a scowl on my face.

I was shocked at his words yet I knew in my heart that he was telling the truth. He took off the cloak and breastplate and placed them on a stand. His shoulders were no less impressive for loosing the extra width. Underneath he was wearing a very close fitting sleeveless top. He flexed his shoulders, the movement highlighting how well muscled he was. He turned and hid a smile when he found me staring at him.

While I was pondering this he stepped closer. Putting a finger under my chin he tilted my face up forcing my eyes to meet his. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered "You won't regret it… ever." I shivered as his lips travelled down the side of my neck. Gentle kisses brushed the line of my jaw, his long hair creating a curtain around us.

I felt myself falling into the green depths of his eyes as he stared deep into my eyes. I could feel his mind brushing against mine. Unlike Paul's this was a gentle caress, like a gentle breeze on a hot summer's day. I started to shut him out but he was already withdrawing. He had a slight smile playing about his lips and I wondered what he had seen, or felt, in my mind.

"All right then I'll just have to keep a close eye on you while you bathe." My mouth dropped open at this suggestion. Reaching over he closed my mouth with a finger under my jaw. He took my hand again and once again the familiar feeling of lethargy settled over my body. He pulled my unresisting body out of the tent and led me down to the pool. He released my hand and I stepped back from him rubbing my wrist and shaking my head.

"It's not that. I was hoping you'd let me wash your hair." He took the soap from her and lathered up his hands and started washing her hair. He went slowly, cupping her head he pressed firmly but gently against her head knowing that it would relax her. Gathering up the full length of her hair he let his fingers brush against the back of her neck. Hearing her sigh in pleasure he stepped back but kept his hands on her shoulders. "All done. I'll leave you to rinse off then we can go back and get some food."

I watched as he swam back to shore, his huge body cutting through the water. Reaching the shore he stood up and I watched the water run down over his back. My eyes ran over every inch of him that was revealed as he walked from the water. My mouth went dry at the sight of his taunt backside and long legs. With a groan I ducked under the water, trying to deny what I was feeling for my captor.

I sat and looked out of the tower window looking desperately out over the land waiting for Marcus to return home. A little over a month had passed since he'd brought me back to his home so that he and Paul could begin my training. They helped me to develop my telepathy and mind reading. They also brought in a woman to teach me how to use spells and how to make potions.

As time had passed I'd fallen deeply in love with him. Such a strong but gentle man. He cared deeply for all the people under his care and in turn they cared for and respected him. His reputation as a fierce warrior, which he also was, meant that he was constantly been challenged by others. I'd seen his response to these people and it was scary but he always gave his challengers plenty of time to reconsider their course of action before he destroyed them.

Rushing from the room I went outside to great him in the courtyard as he and his men rode back. He reigned his horse in close to me and dismounted. I could tell by the tense set of his features that he was hurt. His strong arms gathered me close against him and I wrapped my arms around him. Something was wet under the palm of my hand. Looking down I saw that my hand was covered in blood. His black leather clothes hid the fact that he had been wounded from everyone, including his men.

I sat down on the edge of the bed in shock. Paul cleaned the wound as best as he could and bandaged it. By the time he'd finished the bandage was already soaked through with blood. I brushed the hair off Marcus' forehead. His face was wet with sweat but he was cold to the touch. Paul shook his head at my questioning look. Tears flowed from my eyes at the thought of Marcus dying.

"How far have you got Jess? You know if it wasn't for all those drugs it would have been over long before now." He sat and talked to her for hours. Telling her things that he would never of told anyone else. He talked about they places he'd been and the matches he'd been in. He told her about the new wrestlers and what jokes they were playing on each other; clothes missing, shoes glued to the floor.

As he talked he held her hand and occasionally stroked her face. He wasn't even paying attention to what he was saying, just hoping that she would respond in some way. He suddenly became aware that her hand was moving under his. He looked at her not quite believing what he'd felt. Her lips were curved up in a small smile.

A week had passed since he had been poisoned and at last he felt well enough to walk around again. He probably could have been up sooner but he was rather enjoying having Jessica looking after him. Moving through the kitchen he stood in the doorway and watched as Jessica walked through the herb garden. Stooping down she picked a sprig of mint and placed it in a basket with all the other herbs she'd already picked.

Hearing him in my mind I turned and looked. I didn't think I'd ever get used to having someone speak to me through me mind. I smiled when I saw him, his body framed in the kitchen doorway. Restraining myself from running to him I slowly walked over and stood in front of him. I had to touch him. Reaching up I touched his face, stroking over his cheek my hand moved over his neck then rested against his chest. Suddenly realising what I was doing I pulled my hand away. "I didn't expect to see you up so soon."

"It's nearly time." He could see the panic building in her. "Trust me." Leaning down he kissed her. Her lips, tense beneath his, relaxed as he continued to kiss her. Teasing her with his lips and tongue as his hands moved over her back. He wanted to do so much more but his control was already at breaking point and all they were doing was kissing.

Every touch he gave and received was in preparation for that night. It was also sweet torture. Looking into her eyes he could tell that she felt the same. As she washed his chest she moved slowly, caressing not washing. Her fingers seeking out and finding all the little areas that made him moan. Her nails scraped over his nipple and he jumped at the sensation, a deep growl rising up from deep inside. By her small smile he knew that she'd felt his growl against her hands.

He took her lips in a heated kiss, pulling her off her feet to gain better access. Her body floated through the water and settled against his. He pulled her closer, pressing his arousal into the softness of her stomach. Her legs moved around his waist and he shifted until the tip of his manhood was poised at her entrance. His body was screaming at him to take her, make her his.

After we were joined together in the sight of God Marcus refastened the blindfold. I could tell that he was leading me deeper into the wood. A owl hooted overhead and I heard the gentle beat of its wings as it flew from its perch and went in search of food. I could hear the crackle of a fire and feel its warmth against my skin.

Marcus removed my blindfold again and I looked around. We were standing in a clearing. Paul was there, standing behind a long table laid out with candles. A silver chalice, a dagger and a large, leather bound book were the only other items upon it. Several torches had been placed to light up the area. And Marcus' guards had taken up position around the perimeter to prevent any interruption and to act as witnesses.

Our lips met in a gentle kiss as a breeze blew across the clearing. As our kiss grew more hungry and heated the breeze picked up and leaves were tossed around. The guards stood their ground even when the wind picked up enough to stagger them. Paul clasped the silver chalice and the book close to his chest as he watched the couple kissing. They were the only two unaffected by what was happening as they were the cause of it. `Although I don't think they'd notice if an army rode through'. Paul thought with a smile on his face.

Returning to the castle we were greeted by a party that was been thrown to celebrate our wedding. Even though we both wanted to be elsewhere we stayed. At everyone's insistence we shared a dance. It started off as any normal dance but as our bodies touched we moved closer and closer. By the time the music stopped we were standing still in the centre of the room, eyes devouring each other.

He looked down as he removed my gown, eyes moving over every inch as it was revealed. Shyness had me covering my breasts against his hot, hungry gaze. Smiling gently he took hold of my hands and pulled them away. His gaze was as potent as any touch and I felt my breasts swell and the tips hardening as they begged for more than just a look.

His eyes were riveted on what his hands were doing to my body. I watched his face as his hands moved over my breasts, his touch light and teasing. His fingers moved and gave my nipples the attention they desired. As heat streaked from them and pooled between my thighs I closed my eyes and let my head roll back, hands gripping his shoulders.

Our lips met and the smiles faded as hunger took over. Reigning himself back under control he slowed things down and refused to be hurried in any way. He moved up and down my body, each touch of his hands and lips creating havoc with my senses. With his encouragement I returned his touch, delighting at the sighs and groaned that escaped his lips, the little catches in his breathing and the quivers that ran through his body when a particularly sensitive area was touched.

Eventually we could both no longer take it and he joined us together. Any pain I felt was brief and quickly forgotten under the wonderful feelings that his body evoked within me. He moved slowly and carefully, drawing out the pleasure for both of us until I was nearly sobbing in delight. Every move, every touch, had me shuddering and groaning. He captured a groan with his mouth.

His pace quickened even more as his control finally came to an end. She followed willingly crying out in release. He cried out as he came, feeling as if he'd jumped from a cliff and was soaring up to the heavens. He caught himself on shaking arms before he collapsed on her. Rolling to his side he held her close as they drifted back down to earth entwined in each others arms.

I'd never felt so alive and yet so tired all at the same time. My skin tingled where it came into contact with his. The feeling making me shiver in delight, he gave a smile and brushed his hand over my shoulder and back. Feeling myself drowning in the love shining from his eyes I brushed his sweat-dampened hair away from his forehead and smiled back at him. "I feel as if I've spent my entire life waiting for you."

Mark stood in front of the boiler room and reached down for the handle. He wasn't in the mood for this match. He'd just got off the phone from talking to Jess' mum. She'd had good news for him, Jess was finally awake. Unfortunately her husband had flatly refused to let Mark anywhere near Jess. And if that wasn't enough Paul had been acting very strangely lately.

The fight certainly kept him occupied. They battled through the boiler room using everything they could get their hands on as a weapon. Mankind made it to the door first and started to shut the door in Mark's face as he tried to get through, Mark thrust his arm through the opening and fought his way out. The battle moved through the backstage area where they continued to throw things at each other, trashcans, hot drinks, cutlery, everything.

Mark knew that with any other opponent they would of given up long before now but Mankind was nothing like any other opponent he'd ever faced. This man did not care one single little bit if he got hurt, just as long as he could hurt someone else at the same time. As long as he was willing to take some punishment Mark was more than willing to dish it out.

Then came the betrayal. After a long brutal match Mark knelt down to receive the urn from Paul and end the match. Paul turned his back on him. It didn't sink in at first what was happening. Mankind attacked him from behind and pushed his fingers into his throat. Mark fought as had as he could but could feel the paralysing effects of the mandible claw taking over.

Crawling over to Paul he tried again to claim the urn and this time he got it as Paul smashed it down on his head. The next couple of minutes were a blur. He could hear the referee shouting at Paul. He knew it was over when Mankind's music started up, that deceptively soothing piano music. And still he couldn't quite believe it.

Everyone in the room was suddenly rocked by a shockwave of power. Chairs and tables overturned, doors slammed in its wake and a deafening boom rocked the castle. He scooped her body up in his arms as she went limp. Righting a chair he sat with her in his lap. Her eyes drifted back to the pile as ash and with a shiver she huddled closer to his body. "Don't worry, we'll make them pay for all they've done."

We stood atop the highest tower and as Marcus placed the protection spell over the castle I boosted his power with my own. We were just in time. As we watched riders approached the castle. Some distance out they were suddenly thrown as their horses ground to a halt as they sensed something ahead. I was surprised at how far out the barrier reached but as I heard a startled squeak as one of the men landed against the barrier I smiled.

Standing atop the battlements I defended the castle from attack while Marcus led his army on the battlefield. I boosted the protective field around the castle to protect everyone inside from any surprise attacks. I stayed in contact with Marcus telepathically, letting him know from which direction the attacks were coming from and adding my power to his.

Most of the opposing army was made up of conscripts and captives. Quickly learning that they were no match for Marcus and his men they tried to retreat. They found themselves trapped, Marcus on one side and the warlords on the other. Anyone trying to retreat was forced back or killed on the spot, depending on the mood of the warlord. Eventually though the number trying to escape overwhelmed the warlords and the battlefield quickly started to empty.

"It's safe, that's all anyone needs to know." Even though they were both working together again, he wasn't about to tell Paul, or anyone else, where it was. It had been stolen and melted down one year. Luckily restoring it to its original shape hadn't affected its power in any way. Not wanting to take that kind of chance again he had replaced the original urn with a `fake'. Not wanting anyone to find out he hadn't told anyone, not even Paul. It had turned out for the best when Paul had betrayed him and run off with the `fake' thinking that he could use the power of the urn for himself.

Time after time, year after year, Mark had travelled to England in an attempt to see Jess and time after time he was turned away by her father. If Mark was scheduled at a show she was taken out of the country and if Mark had any amount of time off her father spent all his time near her just to prevent Mark from coming into contact with his daughter.

He refused to listen to the truth and had even threatened to have her committed if she didn't stop with `that crazy story'. Against his wife's wishes he'd hired a nurse to look after Jess and to keep her pumped full of drugs, as he didn't believe that leaving them off would help. And he knew that she would try to stop Jess from taking them.

As they walked down the corridor Mark smiled as everyone they came across scurried to get out of his way. They didn't have anything to fear from him as long as they stayed out of his way and didn't interfere. The only man that had anything to fear was Vince McMahon. For all his interference Vince was going to suffer like no man had suffered before.

Landing at Heathrow, he was just about to leave the airport when he'd spotted her walking towards him. He wanted to sweep her up into his arms where she belonged and take her home with him. Instead he stepped back out of sight and watched. Once again he was so close but there might as well been an entire ocean between them.

"Hello Mark." He nodded his head in greeting, his eyes firmly fixed on Jess, begging her to look at him and remember. "I don't think you'll get a lot out of her I'm afraid. She'd just had her tablets when he got the call off Vince." His eyes narrowed as his suspicions about Vince were confirmed. Reaching out he stroked a finger down her cheek but there was no response from her at all. "When she's like this she doesn't even know who her own parents are." She scrubbed at her eyes as tears threatened to fall.

His plan was relatively simple. He was going to hit Vince where it would hurt him the most. He'd start with his business first, make him believe that was what he was interested in. Then when he was busy protecting that he'd move on to his family. Before he was through he'd have Vince on his knees begging for mercy. He smiled at the thought then smiled some more when he saw people near by shiver and move further back out of his reach.

Mark grabbed the young man by the throat and slammed him back into the nearest wall. Forcing Shane to stand on his tiptoes to relieve the pressure. Mark ignored the hands of the Corporation wrestlers that were trying to pull him off Shane. Snarling in Shane's face he punctuated each word with a shake that smacked Shane's head into the wall.

Everyone was kept in the dark about the identity of the `Higher Power' until he was unveiled that fateful night. The man that he'd been trying to destroy had been using him all along. And worst of all, he'd been using him to get at another man. So consumed by his own scheming that he was oblivious to Mark's plans for him.

Big Show had been furious. To avoid a needless feud Mark told Big Show what was happening. Luckily the big man had agreed to help them. The next week Big Show attacked Paul and Mark `abandoned' him. Creating a perfect opportunity for Paul to leave the WWF. Within a matter of weeks Mark got the all clear from Paul and he walked out of the WWF without a backwards glance.

She crossed the road and went to the same café that she always went to, sitting down in the same seat and ordered the same thing. Standing in the shadows across the road he watched as she took out her tablets. He sighed and turned to leave, stopping when he saw her put them back in the bottle. He'd got his sign. She was still fighting. He stepped from the shadows as his car drew up. As it pulled off he was already planning his next move.

Finishing my lunch I went back to work. Not that it could really be called work, it was just another way for my dad to keep an eye on me. Going into a bathroom I splashed water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't recognise the person staring back at me anymore. My hair was cut short again but the person I was looking at had long hair. A man stood behind me. It was the man I'd seen earlier, but at the same time it wasn't. His face shifted slightly and it was the man I'd seen but he was dressed differently and he looked younger. "Undertaker." This man I had met before. I could remember bright lights, crowds, cheers, fighting?

Mark watched through the window as the nurse passed the obviously reluctant Jess her tablets. She stood over her until Jess had swallowed them down. Once she was satisfied that the tablets were gone she left the room. Mark smiled as Jess stuck her tongue out at the nurses retreating back. The door shut and Jess spat the tablets out of her mouth and shoved them down the back of the sofa.

Mark watched from the safety of the shadows as the car left. Turning back to the window and continued to watch Jess. She sat up and started watching TV, flicking through until she found a WWF show playing. Not finding what she wanted she threw the remote down and sat back with a sigh a look of disappointment on her face.

My small defiance with my tablets hadn't gone unnoticed for long. With my head clearing slightly I'd started asking questions about my life before my coma. I'd also started having the dreams again. Growing suspicious my father had me followed and before I could realise what was happening I was made to stay at home where the nurse could make sure that I took my tablets.

I was alone in my house with four strange men. I thought of all the reasons for them been there and a shiver of fear ran down my spine at some of the possibilities. I turned to judge the distance to the other door. My wrist was suddenly taken in a firm but gentle grasp. Before I could snatch my hand back his warm, slightly callused fingers shifted and I felt my fear melting away.

Mark felt her twitch slightly under his touch. Moving a finger he pressed more firmly until she went still again. "No. It might react with what they've given her. Just bring the car around." He waited until everyone had left then moved her over to the sofa and released his grip on her hand. She rubbed her wrist and looked at him. He sat back and waited.

I'd heard those words before. I closed my eyes and tried to chase the memory down. Images flashed before me. Every one I tried to focus upon vanished like mist making me groan in frustration. Lips touched mine so softly that I thought them another memory. At the brush of a tongue across my lips, seeking and finding entry, I realised that it wasn't but by then I was enjoying the kiss so much that I didn't object. Fingers brushed along the back of my neck and pressed gently. I could feel myself loosing consciousness at the touch.

My eyelids grew heavy and I could feel my body relaxing. I wasn't sure what was happening but I knew it had something to do with him. I wrenched myself from his grasp, landing on my hands and knees on the floor. His hand touched my back trying to get a hold of me. I scrambled away before he could get a grip. Sitting with my back to a wall I shook my head to clear away the cobwebs.

I turned my attention to the other two men, I was sure I'd never met either of them before. They seemed relaxed but I was aware that they were keeping an eye on me. At the moment they were engrossed in a game of poker but every time I moved they looked at me. Barely a glance but just enough to make sure that I knew there was no escape from them.

My eyes were drawn back towards Mark and Paul. Judging by their body language they were discussing me. Finishing the conversation Mark picked up the drinks and walked towards me. I was mesmerised as I watched him move, those long legs eating up the distance between us. My eyes travelled up over his trim waist and broad chest and shoulders. As he sat back down and passed me my drink our fingers brushed. My heart pounded at the light contact and the glass started wobbling dangerously in my hand. He steadied the glass and my hand with his.

Looking out of the window I watched as land started to loom large ahead of us. At the sight my pulse picked up and my breathing quickened. Once we landed maybe I could make a break for it or attract the attention of someone at the airport. My heart leapt into my throat at the touch of a hand on my shoulder. I turned to face him and as my eyes met his I felt myself drowning again.

"You okay?" He'd seen her growing agitation and wondered if she was thinking of doing something stupid when they landed. Moving his fingers he touched the pulse in her neck. Her heartbeat quickened but the look of panic faded from her eyes to be replaced by desire. She might fear him at the moment but her body and soul ached for him. Her lips parted under the gentle brush of his and a sigh escaped her lips as his tongue swept over her lips. With shaking hand she touched his face so lightly that it was barely felt.

At the unfamiliar touch my eyes sprang open in confusion. I pulled away from Paul's touch and looked around. Faarooq and Bradshaw had paused in their game of poker and were watching us with interest. By the looks of their faces you'd have thought that Mark had grown another head. The looks on Mark and Paul's faces was that of concern.

He heard the panic in her voice. "I'm not going to lie to you. Things are going to get a lot worse before they'll get any better." A look that clearly stated that she didn't want to hear that crossed her face. "We'll be there to help you get through this and once it's over you'll feel a lot better. You want that, don't you? Else you wouldn't be avoiding the tablets."

"Do you really think you should be trusting her?" Mark's face remained neutral so Paul decided to take it as a sign to continue. "As far as she's concerned we've just kidnapped her from her home, what if she tries to get help at the airport? Everything you've been trying to do for so many years could be lost in a split second with just one word from her."

As we moved through the airport Mark's hand caressed the back of my neck. Just enough pressure was applied to keep me calm but I knew that with the slightest shift of his fingers I'd be unconscious again. Paul walked at my other side, close enough to grab me, and the other two were behind us, just in case I made a break for it.

His eyes kept moving from Mark and me then down to the phone at his side. It would have been so easy to shout for help then. But I'd promised to behave. His hand inched closer to the phone. He was going to do it. Paul stiffened at my side and started to reach into his coat. A move which had his hand moving quicker towards the phone.

Mark felt as though everything was starting to spin out of control. The man behind the desk was looking at them as though he expected them to start sacrificing people in the airport. His body started to prepare for trouble, muscles tensed ready to strike. He was aware of a growl rising. He kept it silent but he knew that Jess had felt it vibrating against her body.

I was just about to talk to the man behind the desk and reassure him that nothing was wrong when I felt Mark's growl. I glanced up at him and he looked back down at me. His eyes were hidden behind his dark glasses, sparing me the sensation of drowning that I usually felt when I looked into them. After so long on the plane his previously smooth cheeks were dark with stubble. My hands itched to feel it under my palms. Without even realising that I'd moved my hand was there stroking over his cheek to feel the gentle rasp of stubble. His mouth quirked slightly and my eyes were drawn to it. Recalling our kiss on the plane I wanted to feel those soft, full lips on mine again.

A crowd was closing in on us and it was obvious by all the t-shirts and signs that they wanted Mark. They milled around and I was separated from Mark and the others. Standing back I watched what was happening. Mark and the others were forced to sign autographs just so that they could be allowed to continue on their way. It was easy to keep track of Mark as he stood, quite literally, head and shoulders over everyone around him.

Mark shifted slightly so that he could whisper to Faarooq and Bradshaw. "As soon as you can try to get away and find her. If you can, restrain her but don't hurt her." He warned the two men, knowing how much they liked to fight. "If you can't get to her just follow and contact me as soon as you can." They nodded in understanding. "Paul, she knows you and may let you get close to her. Take the letter with you, just in case. Only use the injection as a last resort. Understand?"

I sipped at the last of my coffee and glanced at my watch. They must have finished signing autographs by now. Setting down the cup I was about to get up to go back to Mark when a shadow fell over the table. Tipping my head back I looked up at Mark. His arms were folded firmly over his chest and there was a stern look of disapproval on his face. "I, ah, do you want some coffee?" I gave him a sheepish smile.

"Don't get too comfortable boys. Looks like we've got company headed our way." Mark nodded and everyone turned to look at what he'd seen. More fans headed towards them. Mark held firmly onto Jess' hand as he led the hasty retreat out of the airport. "So you thought of Warrior as a Tasmanian devil… what did you think of me back then?"

Distracted by the commotion behind us I glanced over my shoulder while answering him. "You were definitely a black panther." We were quickly outpacing our followers but they weren't giving up too easily. "Beautiful and deadly." I slapped a hand over my mouth when I realised what I'd said. I glanced up at him, hoping that he hadn't heard me. He was busy saying something to Faarooq. I'd gotten away with it.

Reaching the car park Mark guided Jess into the back of his car then went to talk to Bradshaw and Faarooq. "You two go first. Make sure that anyone waiting around gets a good look at you. If anyone follows lead them around for a bit then loose them." They nodded in agreement and left in their own car with a squeal of tires. Mark climbed into the back seat with Jess and let Paul do the driving. Paul turned on the radio and quickly tuned it in to a country music station. Turning his attention to Jess he saw that she'd broken out in a sweat again. When her mind was occupied the effects of the withdrawal weren't too bad, yet. Leaning over he gave her something to think about.

At Paul's words I looked out of the window but couldn't see a house anywhere. Before I could question them the car turned and headed straight for a group of trees. Covering my eyes I tensed ready for the inevitable crunch of metal against wood. When nothing happened I parted my fingers and peered cautiously through them. We were on a perfectly normal drive heading towards a house. Looking back I watched as a huge pair of metal gates closed behind us. "How? What?" I stuttered in shock.

I traced the outline of his smiling mouth with my fingers. "You have a beautiful smile." His lips twitched under my fingers as his smile broadened. I gave myself a quick mental shake, what was it about him that kept making me think and talk about him like this? Those beautiful eyes captured me once again. My heart quickened, as I looked at him yet my blood seemed to slow in my veins. We reached for each other at the same time and our lips met in a soft kiss that quickly threatened to overcome us.

Thinking that maybe the Acolytes were playing a trick on him Paul spun around to give them a piece of his mind. At the sight of Mark, and especially the look on Mark's face, he felt the blood drain from his face. Looking down he almost expected to see it running from his shoes. He rushed to apologise, for what he wasn't too sure, but then he just stood there with his mouth gaping open as Mark started laughing. He heard Mark laugh before it had been nothing like this. A full-bodied, head thrown back, infectious laugh of pure joy.

"Wow." I looked around the room in amazement. Where Mark's room had been dark this one was light. Decorated with pastel shades of blue and grey but the most striking feature had to be the huge canopied bed that dominated the room. It didn't really seem the kind of room that Mark would have in his house but the furniture didn't have the gleam or smell of newness. I looked at Mark wondering just how long he'd had this planned.

I looked over the balcony wall at the courtyard below. His house had to be the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. Once you were inside it was easy to forget that the outside looked like a castle. But looking down at the courtyard was like stepping back in time. Any minute now I expected to see knights in shining armour mounting up ready for battle.

Mark grabbed Jess around the waist as she suddenly started to sway, her body teetering on the edge of the balcony. Fighting the instinct to shake her until she came back to him, he pulled her gently back against his body and wrapped her arms around her. He knew what was happening and knew that she would have to go through it many more times, but it didn't make it any easier to see her looking so pale.

Mark had left for the day after muttering something about `throwing Vince off the scent'. I read for a while but even my favourite book couldn't hold my attention for long. The TV proved to be just as unhelpful, so many channels and nothing on. And to top it all off it was raining so walking around the gardens was out as well.

I opened the double doors that Paul assured me led to the Library. I'd never been in here before and although Mark had assured me that I was free to go into any room it still felt strange. The feeling increased as I entered the room, something didn't seem quite right. I shook the feeling off and looked around. Apart from shelves stocked with books there was also a couple jammed with videotapes. I looked at the spines curious as to what was on them. They were all numbered and labelled `Wrestling'. I looked around but there was no VCR anywhere in sight. Finally I'd found something I was interested in seeing only to find myself frustrated.

I sat down and watched tape after tape, completely mesmerised as I watched Mark in the ring. For such a big man he could certainly move quickly when he wanted. Even after watching all the tapes I still felt no closer to understanding him. It just seemed as though he hid a part of himself. There was also something else missing.

They had said that I'd refereed a couple of his matches yet the tapes were nowhere to be found. Just a couple of empty places where they had once stood with the rest. It was strange but there was nothing I could do. Deciding to ask Mark when he got home I went to remove the last tape. As I was removing it I spotted some tapes tucked down by the side of the TV. Fishing them out I realised they were the missing tapes.

Her tone had started calm, too calm. As her anger suddenly started to erupt he'd expected a slap or a punch but nothing could have prepared him for what she did do. The breath caught in his throat, his eyes crossed and multicoloured spots exploded behind his eyes as she brought her knee sharply up into his groin. He'd been hit before but there was a difference to the mild pain caused when wearing protection and this.

As Mark sank to his knees cupping himself in agony I only had one thought, escape. Running from the room without a backwards glance I took the quickest route I could find out of the house and made my escape. The expected shouts and pursuit never came but I didn't dare relax. Reaching the road I looked around then struck off to the right. Not knowing where it led but not particularly caring either.

A huge spot of rain hitting me square in the forehead was immediately followed by a loud clap of thunder. The heavens opened and within a matter of seconds I was soaked to the skin. I trudged on. Tears rolled down my cheeks and mingled with the rain. But they weren't tears of anger they were tears of sadness. For each step I took away from Mark I felt as though my heart was breaking.

The quiet purr of a powerful engine behind me shook me from my musings. I stepped off the road in case I was in the way. The car slowed as it drew closer then kept pace as I walked. Turning I came face to face with a hearse. My heart leapt with joy and sank through my boots at the same time. He'd found me. It pulled to a halt and the back door opened to block my way.

Bending down I glanced inside to see a very grim looking Mark staring straight ahead. Knowing there was no escape from them I climbed into the car. Paul turned the car around and started back to the house. I sat as far away from Mark as the back seat would allow. His body was fairly vibrating with his anger and it scared me. His face was deceptively calm, too calm, but after watching all his matches I'd seen that look before. It was usually followed by the person that had angered him receiving the beating of their lives.

Grabbing a tissue I wiped the rain from my face as best as I could. Then wiped some more, then more. Finally it got through that I was no longer wiping at rain but sweat. Not wanting to bother Mark I kept it to myself even when the pain started. It was just a dull ache at first almost like the bloated feeling caused by eating too much food.

Paul rushed round the car and tilted Jess' face to look at her. She was icy cold yet sweat was beading her forehead. Her eyes were fluttering almost as if she were caught in the midst of a dream. "You better get her…" before he could finish Mark was taking the stairs three at a time, "upstairs." He finally caught up with them as Mark was gently placing Jess on her bed. "How is she?"

"What are you hiding from me?" I was getting a little fed up with all the hint of things to come. Why couldn't he just tell me? I grabbed his arm as he tried to leave. "Don't go. I don't want to be alone." He looked at me for the longest time then lay beside me on the bed. Needing his touch I wrapped myself around his body and rested my head against his chest. The feel of his long muscular body against my own gave me more joy than I thought possible. And after what I'd done it was a joy I didn't feel like I deserved. "I'm sorry I kneed you earlier." He grunted but didn't move away. Tiredness settled over my body but my mind was full of questions. "That last match… what happened?" There was a rustle as he lifted his head to look at me.

I cried out as pain wracked my body once again. There was a brief moment of relief as a cold, wet cloth brushed against my forehead. Forcing open my eyes I stared at the men standing around the bed. I whimpered in distress as the two familiar figures of Paul and Mark kept changing into two completely different, but equally familiar figures. I struggled briefly then subsided when it proved futile.

"She's got a strong will Mark, she'll make it. If for no other reason than to be with the man she loves. That's why she's doing it… so she can remember you." It confused him as to how Jess seemed to have memories of events that hadn't happened. Events of a time long gone, events that Mark was desperate for Jess to remember. He was as curious as hell as to what was really going on but unless Mark decided to tell him he knew he would just have to stay in the dark.

Mark could see the curiosity burning in Paul's eyes but he had no intention of telling Paul anything. Paul was his friend and he liked Jess but he would never understand. His words had worked though and Mark was feeling a lot better. She was strong, she'd proved that time and again over the years. And she was going through all that pain for him as much as herself.

With the drugs gone I could recall my time with the WWF and how I'd felt from the moment I'd first seen him. I could remember with great detail, and pleasure, the feel of his lips on mine that first time. I could also remember the urn and how I'd felt when I'd touched it. I shivered in memory then shook the feeling off and watched as Mark placed a box on the dressing table. He opened the box and I backed away in horror.

He was about to take the urn from the box when Jess made a break for the door. Running after her he managed to close and lock the door before she got out. She backed away from him, eyes wide. He talked to her but she was so terrified that she didn't hear a word he said. As she started throwing everything she could get her hands on at him he realised that he was going to have a problem.

He tackled her to the ground and reached behind her neck. She started fighting even harder making it difficult to find the pressure points necessary to calm her down. He knew of plenty more though. She was concentrating so hard on stopping the hand on her neck that she didn't notice the other moving to the area between her shoulder and collarbone. One quick press and she stilled long enough for him to latch on to the pressure points in her neck.

He closed his heart to the hurt in her eyes as she started to loose consciousness. He tied her hands together and then did the same to her legs. The less she struggled, the easier it would be. Taking the urn from the box he placed it on the floor making sure that it was out of her reach. Reaching down he took the lid from the urn and turned back to Jess.

As I watch in horror a white light starts to pulse deep within the urn. My screams for Mark only seemed to make it brighten. I clamp my lips tightly together but it makes no difference. Before I'd only ever felt something touching me, I'd never seen anything. I couldn't tare my eyes away from it even when the light reached a level that it was painful to look at. Shadows started to form within the light. Tendrils of darkness twisted and stretched within. As I tried to scoot backwards they turned towards me and I froze in terror.

Two separated from the others and rushed towards my face. I closed my eyes expecting to be struck by whatever they were. When no blow came I opened my eyes again. They were floating a couple of feet away from my face. They started forward again moving so slowly that at first I didn't notice any movement and by the time I did, even if I could have done anything, it was too late.

They brushed back and forth over my lips, each stroke making my lips part further for them. One entered so swiftly that I didn't have time to panic or feel any pain. I could feel something click back into place inside my mind and I could remember some of my time with Marcus. Before I could recover from the memory another tendril entered and I could remember even more. They entered swiftly one at a time until I could remember most of my life with Marcus.

"Marcus!!!" I ran to where he'd fallen and looked over the wall at his body below. Blood was spreading around his head. "Marcus!" His arm moved. He'd landed in a quiet corner of the courtyard and no one had noticed his fall. Movement behind me reminded me about Paul. Before I could turn fully I felt a shove to my back and I fell over the wall.

I stretched and yawned as the morning sun passed over my face. Opening my eyes I turned over in the bed and faced Mark. He was asleep so I took the opportunity to study him and compared him to my memory of Marcus. While he looked a lot like Marcus there was the subtle differences that made him uniquely Mark. His hair was a lot darker than I when I'd first seen it in the ring but it wasn't black. The early morning light touched his hair, picking up the auburn at the roots.

"One day my father brought home an urn from an antiques shop. The thing was sealed tight and no amount of brute strength, or any kind of tool, could open it. The stories he used to tell my brother and I about it all sounded like a fairytale to us. Tales of battles throughout the ages. Seems the wizards spell was still working and the urn manipulated people into taking it to war so that it could continue collecting the souls of warriors."

"It called me again that night and once again I was powerless to resist its call. Using a chair I tried to reach it. With my fingers I was just able to touch the edge of it, so near yet so far. I should have looked for something taller to stand on but I knew that if I just stretched a little more I could reach it." His hands moved, reaching for an imaginary urn.

"And I did… but at a price. The shelf toppled and all the chemicals crashed down around me. Not wanting to face my father's anger I ran. Certain that they would awake and come looking for me I ran deep into the woods. Oh how my heart pounded as I ran. I was convinced that in any second I would feel the weight of his hand on my shoulder. But I reached the clearing unscathed."

"Knowing that the urn was still needed for when I found you I dug a hole with my bare hands and buried it. Exhausted I made my way home. Only it was no longer there... All that was there was fire. Hands grabbed me as I was trying to run in to rescue my family. I could hear my brother, Kane, screaming for help." He could still hear it sometimes even now, Kane crying out for his mother and father. His last scream had been for his big brother. He shook at the memory. Jess' arms wrapped around his waist and he felt a tear fall on his chest as she wept for him.

"His screams died and all that was left was the crackle of wood and the drip of water." He gave a deep sigh. "My uncle took care of me after that. It couldn't have been easy for him… I was a bit of a handful back then. It wasn't until I heard that they were going to build where the wood stood that I remembered the urn. I got there just before the bulldozers did."

"Knowing the urn it probably wasn't your choice. But we're together now… and that's all that matters my love." Leaning over I kissed him gently on the lips. He let me be the aggressor for a time but eventually he gave a deep groan and rolled until I was under him. He lay there looking down at me as his chest heaved with his ragged breathing as he fought for control. Reaching up I brushed his hair back from his face and saw the concerned look in his eyes. "What's wrong love?"

Mark propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at Jess. "Sleep well my love." Pressing a kiss to her forehead he stroked a hand down her body as he watched over her. He grinned broadly as she murmured and turned into his touch. He realised that, in this lifetime, he'd never been this happy before and he didn't think that anything could make him happier.

Unlike all the others this one was white and only a fraction of the size. It moved towards the bed, heading straight for a still sleeping Jess. Suddenly fearing a trap Mark held out his hand hoping to attract its attention away from her. It came to him and started playing between his fingers. Twisting and turning between his fingers like a kitten rubbing against its owners legs.