Chapter 3 #2
Baezal seems to weigh my words. Finally, he clicks over to me, his large wings fitting over the back of the chair and flexing in front of the roaring fireplace. The chair groans as his massive frame settles atop it. Even his arms are impressive, thickly coiled with muscle and wider than my thighs.
My thighs—which are now turning slick with arousal—clench together. The heavy silence stretches as I tuck back into my meal. Baezal watches me as I devour the whole bowl. Once it is empty, his posture seems to relax.
“Where did you get all this?” I ask, reaching for a piece of warm bread.
Popping it onto my tongue, it melts in my mouth. I groan, quickly reaching for another. Baezal’s eyes track my every movement.
“Village,” he says as I ingest another piece of bread.
I raise an eyebrow.
“You stole it?”
Baezal shrugs, and I cannot even be mad. Stealing is a part of this new world I find myself in. I’m glad he had done it because if it were up to me, I’m not sure I would’ve been brave enough.
If he can freely go to the village to procure me food and clothing, then surely he can take me from this place. He has to know of some safe place, somewhere I can find employment and earn a wage. I have some skills from being a Sister that are surely needed in a small village.
Gripping my goblet, I take a sip of the red wine for courage. I have to make an ally of him sooner rather than later. This is my first chance to do that. The bitter liquid loosens my tongue as I train my gaze on Baezal’s.
“How did you become trapped here?”
His eyes flare to life as his dark brows pull low.
“Cursed,” he snarls.
A male of few words, cannot say I’m surprised. Silence settles in as I take another sip of wine. Perhaps that was too forward a question to start out with. Before I can try again, Baezal tears off another piece of bread and hands it to me. My heart begins to race as a flush erupts all over my body.
I take it with shaking hands. My fingers graze his, and I have to swallow my moan. I’ve been starved of another’s touch—my desire for it is making me lose sense of what’s most important. My freedom.
“How did you come to be here?” he asks.
I take a bite of bread, chewing and swallowing before deciding how to answer. There is no point in lying to him. If I want to gain his trust, then unfiltered honesty will surely be the best way to do that. Taking a sip of wine, I lean against the wooden back of my chair.
“Got in trouble. I was discovered kissing a local boy. Father Knoll was not pleased by my actions.”
Baezal hums a low growl in his throat. Taking another sip of wine, I press on.
“Before I knew it, I was loaded into a carriage and left here to contemplate my sins.” The wine has done its job, as I am powerless to stop the words slipping from my lips.
“Secretly, I believe Father Knoll’s true irritation is the fact that someone other than him touched me.
Vile man. He’s been planning something for me—I know it.
Therefore, I cannot say that I’m too upset at being here and away from him. Away from all of them.”
Baezal’s eyes give nothing away. He watches me carefully, and I worry, as the silence stretches, that I’ve said too much. I hold my breath, only letting it out once he gives me a simple nod. Hope pumps thickly through my veins.
If anyone was to understand my plight, it would be Baezal. Reaching for the final piece of bread, I chew it slowly, summoning my strength to ask my next question.
“Baezal,” I say carefully, watching his eyes blaze. “I was wondering—well, hoping really—if you could help me escape this place.”
His wings pull tight behind him, the motion causing a swift breeze to disrupt my hair. The scent of crackling wood from the fire turns heavy. His claws curl along the worn table top, gently scraping the surface.
“Where do you wish to go?”
“Anywhere that isn’t here.”
My reply is instant and true. I do not give much care where I end up. Perhaps a place near water, where I can finally see the bright blue sea I’ve read about. Yes, I would like that very much.
Shaking free of my childish fantasy, I lean forward.
“I want to leave the True Faith behind,” I confess. “My only request is that you take me somewhere they won’t find me. Somewhere I can break free from my obligations and live as I’ve always wanted—unburdened.”
Silence fills the room, save for the crackling hearth.
Baezal looks at me, and a flurry of emotions crowds his glorious eyes.
Something sparks in his irises as if seeing me for the very first time.
What must he think of me? A Sister—remanded for her transgression and begging for his help to leave the True Faith behind.
All my prayers and teachings seem hollow. A sharp pain pierces my heart as I realize I never meant any of them. My vows to the Sisterhood were given, not out of devotion but of expectation. I was forced into this role, and that is why my soul is restless. A pious life was never mine to lead.
From this moment on, I will live for myself—taking what I want and doing exactly as my heart commands me. I am no longer owned by the One True Faith. Their rules no longer bind me. The shame once inflicted on me dissipates—who are they to judge me?
Sister Willow is dead—it is only Willow now.
She will be a fearsome thing to behold once fully unleashed.
“I will help you.” Baezal nods thoughtfully. “It will take some time for me to prepare for our journey, but I know just a place to take you. Somewhere they’ll never go looking. I make this vow to you.”
Elation races through me, making my pulse pound. A smile stretches my lips until my cheeks ache. Baezal’s cheeks darken, and he looks away towards the fire.
Freedom is within reach. He will help me—take me someplace where I can start my life over. This is what I dreamed of. So what if my knight happens to have scales and wings? He saved me nonetheless. Baezal is just as valiant as any scarred hero.
Without thinking, I take his hand in mine. His eyes fly towards mine, widening. His palm nearly covers my entire hand. Clasping it between both my palms, I bring it towards my chest. My heart pounds against his rough skin. Baezal sucks in a breath as he stares at our joined hands.
Pale, fleshy pink surrounding rough, scaly gray is quite the sight to behold.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Baezal shivers at my words, his hand tightening against mine ever so slightly.
A delicious thrill runs through me as I survey him.
His hand could easily snap me in half, yet it holds mine so gently.
His massive frame could crush me. Still, every touch has been featherlight.
Veins protrude from the thick column of his neck before giving way into the deadly cut of his jaw.
Inky black hair falls over his shoulder, and my fingers itch to touch it.
I meant what I said to him. The True Faith’s teachings no longer apply to me. With this new chance at freedom, I leave behind all the vows I once took. I swore to be pious and humble—to be unwavering in my devotion—and above all else to remain pure and chaste.
Chastity is the first tenet I wish to disavow.
I stare at Baezal and consider my next move.
He’s been nothing but kind to me, and now that he's offered to help me, I want to thank him in a way that shows him just how grateful I am. However, more than that, I want to be free—to experience the pleasures I’ve read about for years.
Ultimately, I want the chance to choose someone of my own volition.
And I’m choosing Baezal.
Carefully, I lower his hand back to the table. Sadness tinges his gaze, and I have to swallow my giggle. He will not be bereft of my touch too much longer. Clutching my wine goblet, I drink down the remaining liquid so as not to lose my nerve.
He may very well reject me—this is all a bit sudden, I can admit that. Yet, it feels right. My heart has chosen him—my savior and protector. He is who I want to be with for my first time. I’ve felt more at the brush of his hand than I ever have with another.
My soul is leading me towards him, and I’d be a fool to ignore its urging.
I lick my lower lip and allow my hair to slip over one shoulder. Trailing my finger along the table, I capture his blue gaze once more.
“Baezel,” I sigh softly, nearly purring at his shiver. “I must confess something to you. Won’t you hear it?”
“Yes.”
His growl echoes around the room, and the skin between my thighs grows even damper. The pulsing ache has returned with a frenzy, demanding to be satisfied.
“The other Sisters believed me cursed—said I had the soul of a demon.”
Baezal rears back, eyes large in his gray face.
“Impossible.”
A small smile curves my lips.
“Normally, I would agree with you, but I fear they may have been right. You see, there’s always been this wickedness inside of me.
” My fingers skim up the side of his palms, his scales rising to meet my wandering hand.
“I was always getting in trouble with the Elder Sisters—reprimanded for my desires. Father Knoll said intense prayer was my only chance at salvation, though it did very little to stop my hedonist thoughts.”
My fingers trail up his forearm, nails biting into the hard, rigid of muscle. Baezal’s powerful chest rises and falls. Full, gray lips part to reveal the fangs lurking inside his mouth. What would his bite feel like? I will not be satisfied until I discover it.
“At first, my wickedness blossomed innocently. Sneaking off during prayer time or staying up past curfew. Then there were the books. The Elder Sisters would’ve killed me had they discovered what I was consuming. Do you want to know what was written on these sinful pages?”
Baezal swallows, his nod is swift as my fingers draw swirls along his scales.
“They were tales of battles—heroes earning glory. However, they were mostly tales of love—beddings of fair maidens by their handsome knights under the pale moonlight. Those books inflamed what lay dormant within me. A wantonness the True Faith was determined to see snuffed out.”
Licking my lips, I watch Baezal’s claws embed themselves in the table. Splinters rise around his strong fingers, but he pays them no mind.
“My wicked soul made me seek out local boys and share kisses with them in stolen moments.”
My heart races as heat spreads along my body. I hardly recognize my own voice. This is the real me—the one who is open about her wants. A seductress that’s been stifled for far too long.
Lifting my hand not touching Baezal, I reach for the sleeve of my gown.
“It made me touch myself beneath the covers at night—swallowing down my moans as I imagined myself being ravaged just like the women I had read about.”
Yanking down the sleeve of my gown, the swells of my breasts come into view. The movement nearly bears them entirely. My nipples are barely concealed by the lace neckline.
Rising on shaking knees, I pull my hand from him and pad slowly along the floor.
“Do you understand now, Baezal? If I am truly to break free of the True Faith, then I must give myself to someone. To experience the one thing I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.”
Baezal's eyes are wholly black as I approach him in the chair. Even seated, we are eye level with each other. The skirt of my gown brushes his splayed thighs. I bite my lip to keep from grinning at the hardness tenting the front of his pants. My earlier doubts are elevated—he wants me just as much.
He hands curl onto his knees—in an effort to keep from grabbing me, I hope.
“Willow, you—you don’t have to give yourself to me. I will help you regardless.”
Disappointment threatens to weaken my resolve. If my books have taught me anything, it’s that glory only belongs to the brave.
“Does that mean you don’t want me?” I ask.
Baezal rears back as if he’s been struck.
“Of course, I want you. From the moment I was freed from my stone prison, my thoughts have been filled only by your face, your scent. My desire for you is not why I protest.”
Pleasure skims soft fingertips down my spine. Goosebumps erupt all over my flesh in delight. I move closer towards him, sliding fully between his legs. My hands fall to his strong shoulders, and with a snarl, his hands find their home on my waist.
Nothing has ever felt more perfect than this.
“I’ve always been curious, but I’ve never been intrigued by something so completely as I am now.” My breasts nearly graze his chin as he looks up at me. “Shall I tell you what that is?”
“Please,” he snarls.
His claws press into my waist, the sharp pricks pressing through the fabric. With a smile, I rise up and claim a seat on his lap. The chair beneath us groans as I position myself. His seeking hardness rests against my wet flesh. Baezal hiss as my hands skim up his shoulders to tangle in his hair.
Softer than silk and hotter than fire, the dark strands shift between my fingers.
“Since the moment I entered this room, I’ve wondered what you taste like.”
With my heady confession still ringing in both our ears, I lean forward. My breasts pillow against his chest, and my eyes flutter shut. My lips meet his firm ones in a hard press. The touch is slight—the kiss is beyond chaste. The skirt of my gown hikes up around my hips.
Baezal’s loud groan vibrates his chest. The sound unlocks something within my heart—a deep well that’s been suppressed for years. It’s been unleashed now, and with it, a potent desire rushes through my veins.
I know, without a shadow of doubt, that nothing from this moment on will ever be the same.