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unholly-reader · 2 months

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Missus Duke - Hamish Duke x fem!reader

A/N:

Welcome lovely people, here comes another piece about our favorite werewolf acolyte! Hope you enjoy <3

As always, bear in mind English is not my first language.

This one is a bit longer so be warned! Lots of emotional crap and fluffy bits with a teeny, tiny hint at some freaky action.

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Walking inside the den Beatrice wasn’t sure what to expect. The sole fact that her fiancé was a werewolf baffled her as to how he could have kept this a secret from her but then again she has been doing the same thing in regard to her being a member of the Order. Still, the trust they have established over the years they’ve been together began to falter as she entered the old house, where the Knights established their lair. She’s been there before, but briefly and still unaware of the werewolf company she has kept for the past few years. Entering the building now was more of a venture into the unknown rather than visiting an old friend. Righty of the bat she heard Randall and Lilith frantically discussing something but at first she wasn’t able to make out the exact words. Only when she entered the living room still unnoticed, she registered three words that made her freeze in place.

- Hamish got hurt.

Suddenly nothing else mattered as she quickly approached the two Knights, immediately grabbing their attention.

- What do you mean “Hamish got hurt”? What happened? Was he attacked?

Both Lilith and Randall turned around in a blink of an eye, the girl still holding her phone on speaker with Jack’s name clearly visible on the screen. The pair standing before seemingly lost their ability to speak and unsurprisingly the person to reply to her question was none other than mister Morton.

- Is that Beatrice? What are you doing there?

- Apparently saving the day. You take care of your things, I got this covered.

Before he could even answer, Beatrice hung up on him, focusing on the two standing in front of her, still unsure how to react.

- Bea, what do you mean? And what are you doing here? Hamish is not here so… - started Randall but didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence as Beatrice interrupted him midsentence.

- Cut the bullshit, Randall. I know you’re werewolves and I know Hamish is one too. I need to know what happened to him and where he is now?

Although Randall was utterly shocked hearing Bea’s words, Lilith was quicker to shoot back as she stood tall, raising her head a bit to look properly at the taller woman.

- And how do you know about werewolves anyway, Beatrice? I don’t think they teach about lycanthropy in law school.

As she realised there was no hiding the truth now, she rubbed her temple and gripped her hips staring the black-haired girl down.

- You really are smarter than you look, miss Bathory. As you’re clearly implying, yes – I am a member of the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose, but right now that doesn’t matter. I need to know where Hamish is and how badly he got hurt.

Lilith’s eyes glowed silver as her fangs revealed themselves. That was Timber acting up only fuelled by his champion’s hatred for the entire Order.

- You don’t belong here. Your place is back with the Order, all of you psychotic lunatics. You want to know how he got hurt? One of your idiot disciples stabbed him in broad daylight. In human form.

Before Beatrice could truly understand Lilith’s words, the doors opened wide and through then entered the universities mascot stumbling badly on its legs. The Timber Wolf took off its head and revealed a hurting Hamish beneath.

- A little help here?

Immediately Lilith calmed down and all three of them rushed to Hamish. Bea was the first one to get to him, quickly grabbing his arm and swinging it over her shoulders. Randall came to his other side, mimicking Beatrice’ actions.

- Did you ditch them? – asked Lilith, leading her friend inside.

- For now.

Hamish stared at the both of them and then took a second look as he realised the person holding his right arm was his fiancée who had no reason to be in the den. Most definitely she should not have seen him like that.

- Bea?

The brunette didn’t acknowledge his question as she and Randall led the hurt man to the couch where they gently laid him down.

- Where did they get you? – asked Randall as he and Lilith both helped their leader out of the upper part of the wolf costume, while Beatrice stood back staring at the blood covering her fiancé’s shirt.

They could have killed him.

- Right here – said Hamish, gasping out while lifting his shirt over his right side and revealing a nasty stab wound infested with greenish foam oozing out of the cut. Once the odour hit Lilith and Randall, they immediately felt heir breakfast coming back up their throats.

- Jesus, this smells even worse than it looks – exclaimed Lilith, hiding her nose in her arm similarly to Randall who already presented with a gag reflex.

- It’s like if vomit and sulphur had a baby – added Randall, covering his mouth with his hand.

Beatrice quickly regained her focus as she concentrated on the still bleeding wound gaping in Hamish’s side. Carelessly she pushed Lilith away, taking her place next to the blonde and quietly examining the cut. The girl growled at the older woman, but she didn’t pay any attention to the protesting werewolf as she rolled up the sleeves of her dark green jacket and looked up to meet her lover’s stare.

- It’s okay. I’ve got you now – whispered Beatrice gently with a hint of apology in her voice.

Bea reached inside her university bag and grabbed her engraved knife with confidence subsequently slicing her hand open. Hamish was baffled observing his fiancée’s every movement, too stunned and in too much pain to utter a single word. Bea carefully placed her uninjured palm over his wound and brought the bleeding one to her mouth as she muttered the correct incantation.

- Restituattur.

Suddenly, Hamish felt the pain disappear and all that was left of it was a nasty memory and blood covering his skin. He looked down at his side and there was no signs of his injury. Beatrice quietly retreated, standing up while throwing her knife back in her bag. All three Knights marvelled over her work as Randall poked at Hamish’s skin in the exact place where the stab wound gaped just seconds before.

- Okay, but seriously, this is some cool shit, Trixie – said Randall amused and astounded at the same time, turning his head to Beatrice, who was wrapping the cut on her palm with some tissue she found in the pockets of her jacket.

- Not all magic is bad, Randall. Sometimes it’s really helpful.

Hamish looked up at her as he stood on his own two feet, still clad in the pants and boot sof the Timber Wolves mascot. There were so many thoughts running through his mind, but the one reoccurring over and over again was the lie.

She lied to me.

He was painfully aware that those skills did not come to the members of the Order with ease so it was only logical to assume she’s been a practitioner for a longer period of time, which meant she has been lying to him for years. There were now words that came to him at that moment except what he actually wanted to say despite her deception.

- You saved my life – he stated simply, staring at her without as much as a blink.

Beatrice felt the guilt running through her veins, still trying to remember he lied to her just as much, but the guilt trip was about something other than keeping their societies a secret for all those years. Her disciples attacked the love of her life. If she wasn’t there, Hamish might not have made it out alive. The sheer thought of losing him was the most terrifying thing she’s felt in a very long time. She gulped quietly, squeezing her still bleeding hand never taking her eyes off of Hamish’s blue orbs staring at her shamefully.

- I couldn’t let you die – said Beatrice like it was the purest truth in the world.

Silence fell over the room as the two Knights witnessing this unusual lover’s quarrel stood quietly waiting for the grand finale. That is until Lilith decided that her rage was more demanding than she could manage and so Timber took over the reins, growling at the intruder.

- Yet it was your idiot wizard who almost killed him.

- You have no idea what you’re talking about Lilith, so I suggest you stay out of this.

- Why don’t I give you a taste of your own medicine, you bitch.

What happened next was an insane chain of events, one following the other and all in the matter of thirty seconds. Lilith launched herself at Beatrice who was completely defenceless without her knife as she watched the werewolf girl jump at her. Those few seconds when Hamish watched Lilith attack his fiancé felt like hours when he battled between his integrity and his love for Beatrice. There wasn’t much time to waste on logical thinking or reasons why he should do this or that, but in the end the heart won. Swiftly as the lightning hits the ground Hamish ran ahead, jumping in front of Beatrice and throwing Lilith into the couch he occupied just seconds before. His eyes glowed like silver strikes as he growled viciously at his wolf sister standing before Bea like a human shield. She barely noticed his actions as she awaited the impact but when she saw his back in front of her and his arms spread out in a protective manner a part of her felt some sort of relief. He was still her Hamish.

- That’s enough, Lilith. Stand down.

His voice was powerful and strong. He sounded like a leader should. Calm and collected but still firm. Beatrice peeked over his shoulders and saw Lilith slowly rising from the couch, eyes still shining with silver. The girl was clearly fuming with anger but the hide inside her heard his command and obeyed.

- She’s one of them Hamish. How can you defend her?

- She’s my fiancée. She has just saved my life. We have bigger concerns on our hands. We must deal with Kyle and his little death squad first.

Bea furrowed her eyebrows shocked to hear Kyle’s name mentioned as the one leading the attack.

- That moron?

***

After Midnight returned to his locker following Kyle’s unfortunate death at the hands of Gabrielle Dupres, the Knights returned to the Den for the traditional après-kill drink. Hamish sipped on the red liquor swimming in his glass as his thoughts kept running back to his fiancée. Now that he knew the whole truth about Beatrice Stone a war has started between his heart and mind, both equally convincing and both screaming in his head. Even as they toasted their victory, he was clearly someplace else and his loss in thought did not go unnoticed by his comrades.

- You okay, Hambone? – asked Randall.

Hamish raised his eyes to the brown-haired boy nodding his head silently. Lilith glanced at Randall knowingly as they simultaneously grabbed one of his arms and slowly dragged him upstairs. Once they reached the couch the sat the man down, took the drink out of his hand despite his loud protest.

- Excuse you, I need that glass.

- You need to spill, Hamish. You’ve been staring into nothing like Grinch on Christmas Day – explained Randall, crossing his arms over his torso – Now talk, mister.

- There is nothing to talk about, Randall. Now give me that drink – denied Hamish, reaching out for the crystal glass in his friend’s hand.

- Don’t bullshit us – intervened Lilith, taking the glass in her own hands and putting it back on the bar before turning to face him again – You were stabbed, almost died, found out your fiancée is a member of the Order and all of that in the span of what, two hours?

- Wow, thank you for summing up this fiasco in one sentence. That really helps – said Hamish, huffing.

- We just want to help you – replied strongly Randall, sitting next to his leader – We both know how much you love her. You literally talk about her every single day. What was it you said the other day after those negronis? “Bea is the butter to my bread, the breath to my life”. This is still the same woman, Hamish.

- Yes, but this one has been lying to me for the better part of our relationship. Hell, she may have been lying to me from the very beginning. I’m not sure if I really know her or is it just the pretty picture she sold me over the years. Is her name really Beatrice? Does she really like cats better than dogs? Does she really like my drinks?

- Hold your horses there, my friend – said Randall calmly, patting his arm gently – We met her too. She was real. She is real. I think she may have even liked me. What I know for sure is that she loves you.

Hamish turned his head to face Randall, suddenly so grateful for his goofy demeanour and never-ending positive attitude.

- I really hope you’re right, dude. Because I know I am in love with her. I can’t even try to hate her, which is kind of frustrating.

- You should go talk to her.

This time it was Lilith still looking down at the heartbroken man. Hamish furrowed his eyebrows as he shot her a glance of surprise.

- Weren’t you the one who tried to rip her throat out just today?

The black-haired girl shook her, rolling her eyes back.

- I am still not a fan of the witch and her magic buddies, but she came through for you. She saved you and you didn’t hesitate to jump to her rescue. It’s clear as day you mean to each enough to look past your mistakes.

Apparently, Lilith’s speech was all that Hamish needed to get up and run out without a second thought. He grabbed his phone and car keys on the way and quickly left the Den, leaving his two comrades grinning like idiots.

- We should start a couple’s therapy clinic, cause we’re damn good at this shit – exclaimed Randall, downing the rest of his drink in one gulp.

***

The ride to their apartment in Norwich felt agonizingly slow as he drove past the red lights and other cars, impatient to get to the building. Upon arrival he didn’t even bother with parking his black BMW properly, instead just carelessly left the car in the middle of the private parking place and ran out to the door. As usual he was greeted with a polite “good evening, Mr Duke” but he was too busy running to the elevator to acknowledge the kind security guard. The elevator seemed to be taking forever to get down so instead he chose to sprint seven storeys up to get to their shared apartment, praying Beatrice was there. Without thinking twice, he pushed the door open and entered the dimly lit flat.

- Beatrice? Are you here?

The living room connected with the kitchen and the mini bar they had installed for his alcoholic beverage’s construction was quite dark except for two dim lamps on the underside of the kitchen cupboards, but the main source of light was their bedroom. It was also the room from which Hamish clearly heard hangers ruffling in the closet. Quickly he made his way to the bedroom and found Beatrice fishing out her clothes from the closet and chucking them inside the giant suitcase which laid open on the neatly made bed. Hamish felt a pin in his heart, seeing his fiancée moving out of their apartment and out of his life.

- Bea, stop it – said Hamish firmly, grabbing the woman’s attention.

Beatrice turned around with two hangers in her hands, tear stains covering her cheeks. She froze in place as she gripped the hangers in her palms. On one of them hung the satin red dress she wore to the dinner, when he proposed to her just a few months prior. Just seeing the dress brought a wave of memories to the both of them. Hamish looked into her glassy blue eyes, unsure of his own words and actions, but certain of his feelings.

- I still remember how you took my breath away when I first saw you in that dress. I swore I could marry you right there and then.

His voice was just above whisper, but she heard him clearly. She swallowed her tears, feeling a corner of her mouth rise involuntarily.

- I had to pinch your arm because you stood still like a deer in headlights – chuckled Beatrice, remembering the day as if they just lived it.

Hamish smiled fondly at the memory, never taking his eyes of her blue orbs glossy with new coming tears.

- I was certain you were the woman I would call mine for the rest of my life.

- I knew you were the love of my life.

Silence fell on the two lovers as they stared at each other unsure what comes next. They both lied to the person they love most. They both did it to protect the other. Was it reason enough to accept living a lie for four years?

- You can’t leave, Bea. I won’t let you – stated Hamish, slowly approaching his fiancée.

- Hamish, I lied to you – said Beatrice with a shaky voice – I have been lying to you from the beginning. I have been doing the Order’s bidding, my sister’s bidding and now Coventry’s. I could basically become the new Temple Magus in Washington if I didn’t refuse it because I couldn’t leave you. I am so deep inside the Order sometimes the only thing keeping me sane in my life is you. I am a pathological liar, Hamish.

- I lied too. I have been a Knight for the past eight years. I’ve led the Knights for the past six years. I’ve attacked and defended and did some thing I’m not proud either, even if I believe in the cause we serve.

- Your pack literally hates my guts.

- The Order is hunting werewolves down.

- I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt because the Order, Hamish.

- I can’t imagine my life without you, Beatrice.

The honesty in his tone was almost murderous. She felt his words crawling down her skin as she tried with all her will not to fall apart and into his arms the second he touched her. When he finally did place his hands on the hangers and took them out of her palms, she seemed to have lost her balance for a second. Carefully he placed her dresses back in the closet, brushing against her arm only to return to his previous spot standing before her and looking into her eyes. Beatrice tilted her head up as he was a bit taller, barely standing his intense gaze.

- The Order is your enemy. Werewolves and practitioners are enemies.

- Are you my enemy?

Beatrice sucked in her next breath as she felt his hand reach for her own gently intertwining their fingers. She couldn’t look away as if his gaze was a magnetic force and she couldn’t overpower it. With his free hand he slowly reached to her cheek wiping away the fresh tear that fell down her eyelashes. Her whole body was trembling beneath his touch just like she always did when he was this close. His scent was driving her crazy, muting her senses and blinding the reason she always followed. It was only after a few moments of undisturbed silence that she spoke up, giving up all her will power to the love she knew was stronger than anything she has ever witnessed in her life.

- You own my heart and my soul, Hamish. I could never knowingly stand against you.

Beatrice barely got to finish her sentence before Hamish crashed their lips together, habitually wrapping his arms tightly around her form and pushing her flush against him. An uncontrollable moan escaped her mouth as she melted right into his embrace, entangling her fingers in his silky hair. They were used to messy kisses, those filled with lust and passion and always ending in their bed or other less comfortable places in their apartment, but this was different. The urgency in their movement, hungry lips learning each other like it was the first time, greedy hands trailing invisible paths down their bodies. The act itself felt less like a physical form of dealing with the recent events, but like the final stage of accepting who they are as individuals and who they become as one body, one mind and one soul. When breath came to call they broke apart, but never left each other’s embrace, resting their foreheads against one another. Both were breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down at an astounding pace but all that didn’t matter when they knew they had each other despite everything that happened and will happen in the future.

Hamish could hear Bea’s heart beating like a hummingbird locked in a golden cage. He felt the way she shifted in his arms, trying to get even closer than she already was. Suddenly everything was back to normal. She was his, he was hers. The Order didn’t matter. The Knights didn’t matter. In the silence they exchanged wordless vows promising to protect the love they found in the chaos of their lives. Truth was simple and in plain sight. There was no life for Hamish without Beatrice and there was no life for Beatrice without Hamish. Not even their allegiance to enemy societies could tear them apart.

- We’re going to figure it out. I don’t know how or how long it will take but there’s one thing I am certain about. You are my life, Bea. I don’t care what anybody else says, you’re the one thing I can’t live my life without.

Beatrice looked up, catching his longing gaze with her teary eyes. She could see all that he didn’t say but felt within. All the love, the adoration, the promise of life by her side.

- And I can’t live without you. I can’t breathe without you. To hell with the Order, to hell with Coventry. If I have you, nothing else matters. I love you, Hamish. More than anything. More than life.

The blonde man gently squeezed her sides, bringing her impossibly close as he pecked her lips quickly, but fiercely. He had this bewildered look on his face as if suddenly he swallowed all the energy in the world and was just ready to release it all back like a supernova.

- You have no idea how happy I am that you said that. But all things aside, your magic? That was incredible! I can’t even wrap my head around it. You must teach me sometimes.

Beatrice laughed out gleefully, wrapping her arms tightly around Hamish’s neck, gently nudging his nose with her own.

- A Knight of Saint Christopher’s willingly asking to be taught magic? Dear God, a true miracle.

Hamish smiled wildly, staring lovingly at the woman in his arms. All the emotions he felt flying through his mind, he could barely register them all. The happiness, the hope, the overwhelming joy, the relief all flooded him at once, buy unlike before he felt more at peace than ever. Instead of a hurricane he was standing in the soft rain in the middle of summer. Gently he released Beatrice from his grip, turning towards the bed, where the half-filled suitcase laid wide open. Without a word he reached for the clothes already inside and started unpacking it.

- Since you’re not going anywhere, I believe these belong back in the closet.

- But only if I am the one to put them away – agreed Beatrice, taking the clothes from her fiancé’s hands – If you start putting my clothes back in, I will never be able to find anything again, so move aside, Mister Duke.

- If you say so, Missus Duke – replied Hamish cheekily, relinquishing his grip on the hangers.

Beatrice turned rapidly to face him, almost dropping the dress she was hanging back in the closet. She raised her eyebrows at him bewildered by the name.

- What did you say?

- If you say so, Missus Duke.

The sheer tone of his voice, so sultry and alluring made her weak at the knees. Trying to shake off the effect he clearly had on her, Bea turned back to hang the dress she was holding, when she heard the suitcase gently hit the floor beside the bed. The next thing she knew Hamish had his arms around her middle, standing right behind her with his chest lightly touching her back. Every place his fingers touched her body felt like electricity running over her skin as he gently slid his palms beneath the white flowy shirt she was wearing, running invisible traces over her stomach and ribs. He felt her shaking under his hands and smiled wickedly, proud of how she reacted to his even smallest actions.

- I don’t see a wedding ring in my left hand yet, Mister Duke – whispered Beatrice, leaning into Hamish as his hands roamed freely over her skin.

- A small technical issue I will see to first thing tomorrow – purred Hamish, tracing her neckline with his nose – But right now we have more pressing matters to attend to.

***

Beatrice heaved heavily as she laid her head over Hamish’s bare chest regaining her breath after the last few hours they spent in their bedroom.

- Now I understand why you never got tired. Werewolf durability.

Hamish laughed heartily, wrapping hir arms around her body and kissing her temple gently.

- Darling, believe me. The werewolf part is just a small particle of my endurance. Mostly it’s the fact that my future wife is the sexiest woman on planet Earth, and I can’t control myself around her.

Bea raised her eyes, looking up at a very smug looking Hamish grinning like an idiot. She propped herself on her elbow, resting her free hand flat on his chest.

- Say it again.

- What?

Beatrice shook her head quickly pecking his lips.

- You know what.

Suddenly his gaze softened as he expertly tucked a rouge whisp of her chocolate hair behind her ear. For a moment he remained silenced as he admired her flushed cheeks and sparkling blue irises looking back at him with so much love and adoration he could burst. Gently, he cupped her face, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb never breaking eye contact.

- My future wife.

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