CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
31
Elara
Secrets have a way of clinging to you like cobwebs in a dusty attic.
They linger in the corners of your mind, whispering promises and casting shadows of doubt.
Well, perhaps “secret” isn’t the most accurate term – the truth always has a way of revealing itself, doesn’t it? But indulge me for a moment, because I have a confession, a truth so deeply buried it aches for release.
Sighs Here goes.
Would you believe it if I told you Elara Vance, this seemingly fearless vampire – yours truly – is… a virgin? Shocking, isn’t it? The kind of fact that would make most snort with disbelief. Yes, it’s my little secret, a rather embarrassing one at that. Never. Been. There. Done. That.
Now, hold on a fucking minute. Before you start picturing me draped in a cloak of chastity, hear me out...
On the surface, it might seem like a badge of honor, a testament to some unwavering moral compass.
But the truth is far messier.
Vampires, as you well know, are notorious for their… well, let’s just say our appetites extend beyond the simple sustenance of blood.
We’re known for our seductive prowess, our ability to lure unsuspecting humans into fulfilling our wildest desires.
And yes, a significant portion of those desires involve the carnal act – sex.
It would be a lie to say I haven’t been tempted.
The urge, that primal whisper, sometimes claws its way to the surface.
The curiosity to feel the press of a body, the addictive rush of pleasure, the insatiable yearning for… more.
During my clandestine trips into Chimera, I’ve seen glimpses of it all – the tangled limbs in nightclubs, the throes of ecstasy etched on flushed faces. There’s an undeniable allure to it, a forbidden fruit dangling just out of reach. The thought of joining the throng, experiencing a taste of that shared pleasure, a threesome perhaps, or more… the numbers escalate with each forbidden thought, threatening to pull me under.
But then reality bites. These fleeting desires are a dangerous game. Fuck those thoughts, indeed. Fuck the primal urges that threaten to unravel everything I’ve built.
Everywhere I turn, temptation lurks, a siren song promising oblivion. And yet, a part of me craves it, craves the very thing that could destroy me.
This, my friend, is the burden of being Elara Vance.
Being a vampire witch is a curious paradox. While a well-placed spell can lull my thoughts into a semblance of peace, it’s a fleeting comfort at best. The real torment lies in my constant presence at the center of the Brothers of Sin’s depravity.
Their orgies unfold like grotesque tableaux before me, and as their high priestess, I stand there, officiating their debauchery.
Witnessing it only intensifies the forbidden yearning that simmers beneath the surface. How can I resist what nature itself seems to crave? It’s a constant, gnawing battle.
Aric, the most audacious of them all, flaunts his excesses right under my nose. My only refuge is Lord Draven’s estate, a rare haven of normalcy amidst the perpetual debauchery of the Brothers of Sin. But even there, the unwelcome yearning lingers. It always does.
Were the truth known, the Brothers’ would thirst for me. Elara Vance, would be insatiable.
They believe my virginity long lost, a casualty of my past with Xul. A scoff escapes my lips. Their assumptions are as misplaced as their morals.
Xul, bless his simple mind, presumes my service to Aric translates to… intitimacy (the word itself leaves a bitter taste on my tongue).
Luckily, neither assumption holds any truth.
However, should my virginity be exposed, I can only imagine the whispers, the hungry speculation. Who among the Brothers would claim me first? The very thought chills me. It’s a secret I fiercely guard, and I intend to keep it that way. Virginity isn’t something I yearn to lose just yet.
My focus has shifted. The lure of the coven, the embrace of my true magical heritage, calls to me stronger than the insatiable hunger of the undead.
Helping Morwenna, somehow tethered to Victoria’s reincarnated essence, has become my purpose.
The evidence is there, I can feel it, but the damn magic bangles remains a shackle, hindering the full extent of my power. Breaking free from its constraints is the first step on my new path.
Let’s dispel some myths, shall we?
According to the dubious wisdom of the “Styxfall Grimoire,” virginity signifies pure-hearted women who’ve shunned intimacy for a path of self-proclaimed freedom. Poppycock. My choice to abstain from intimacy is a personal declaration of independence, a road less traveled, if you will. It’s a means to an end, a way to maintain emotional distance.
Foremost, it allows me to gracefully decline participation in the “Brothers of Sin’s” infamous orgies. Trust me, witnessing such debauchery wouldn’t exactly bolster my resolve.
Additionally, it necessitates a healthy dose of “social distancing” from a certain someone. Proximity to that particular individual would undoubtedly lead to...well, let’s just say unwanted arousal and a shattered heart.
Therefore, the notion of losing my virginity is a relic of the past. It’s a distraction I must readily dismiss.
My focus is singular: Xulin’s enigmatic invitation. Attendance is non-negotiable. It was a tacit acceptance on my part, a consequence of his veiled proposition regarding my banishment.
His “offer,” as he so craftily phrased it (always me, it seems), was a mere euphemism for this so-called invitation. A clever ploy, no doubt, to elicit a positive response.
Cornered as I was, I uttered the very word I loathe – a three-letter curse I loathe most: “Yes.”
Fuck. That’s a four-letter word, yes, but far less potent than the storm brewing within me.
Anyone who dared whisper that Xul was calm and reserved would earn a swift smackdown from yours truly. Because hell no. Reserved, maybe, to his brothers. But I see straight through his carefully constructed facade.
Beneath that stoic exterior lies a simmering cauldron of low-key annoyance, an effortless allure that practically oozes from him (even when he’s not trying), and yes, a temper. A dangerous, volatile temper that’s best left unprovoked and one you wouldn’t want to tangle with.
In my mother’s world, Master Xulin’s (as she insists on calling him) “invitations” were a coin toss. Punishment or pardon? This time, he’d explicitly denied any punishment, yet here I was, all worked up about a potential change of heart. Because let’s face it, knowing Xul, “punishment” could very well translate to a very intimate kind of… servitude.
Okay, Xul doesn’t really mean that... does he? Shit, he does. He hardly ever jokes.
The only reason I haven’t run for the hills with this latest “invitation” (like I usually do) is because I want to see if my submissive obedience can quell whatever...unruly thoughts...might be swirling around in that head of his. Keeping my mouth shut about him wouldn’t hurt either.
Honestly, shutting myself up is easy. No badmouthing Xul? Check. Avoiding close proximity? Easy, as long as he keeps those hungry eyes off my body. Staying calm? Piece of cake. Respecting Mom’s godmaster? Done and done. With this checklist in hand, how hard could it be?
Except, a faint echo of my mother’s parting words still lingered: “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I’d replied, rolling my eyes for good measure. Now, let’s see how long that vow lasts.
Obedience. Obedience. Obedience. The mantra echoed relentlessly in my skull. “Don’t be a bad girl,” I hissed under my breath, a second, less eloquent counterpoint. With a resolute sigh, I embarked on the journey.
My destination: one of the brothers’ estates, a place I hadn’t visited in years. Well, except for that one time I followed Aric to see Xul. The details of their meeting remain shrouded in secrecy, a topic I studiously ignored at the time.
Can you blame me? Xul’s voice, a silken caress, could turn any woman’s head, and his physique was sculpted by the gods themselves. But dwelling on such things, especially when it concerns Aric’s... proclivities, would be a dangerous path indeed.
Magic, once my constant companion, would have whisked me across the vast distance in a heartbeat with just a snap of my fingers and I’d be at Xul’s doorstep. But it remained distant. Or rather... restraint.
His estate boasted two distinct pathways: the whispering darkness, a path that often called to me, and the sun-drenched light.
The dark route was fraught with perils – a gauntlet of obstacles like the Lake of Bones and Despair. Crossing the lake meant confronting your deepest, most painful memories. A crucible that could break even the strongest will. Failure to overcome it meant being consumed, a fate worse than Draven’s own Lake of Torment.
The light presented a stark contrast – a shimmering expanse reflecting one’s happiest memories. A gentle journey where laughter bubbled to the surface as you relived treasured moments.
But did I have such memories?
I didn’t know if I had any happy thoughts left.
My past was happy until I lost Bethany.
I’ve always used magic to shield myself from those memories.
Memories can be a constant pain, something to hide away, but sometimes they always come back to haunt me.
Crossing the Lake of Happy Thoughts showed me my deepest desires: being hailed as a hero, a champion who vanquished the corrupted soul of Victoria. To see my name etched onto the hallowed walls of legend, a seat on the council of elders within my grasp.
And then... what? Is that really all I wanted? To prove my worth to everyone who doubted me? Yes, but is proving my worth really worth it? Sometimes, I get confused.
Fury gnawed at me. I should have joined Bethany, crossed that damned lake of bones and never returned.
At least with her, wherever she is, there would be a freedom – a release from this constant torment, this relentless need to prove myself a freak among freaks.
But no. Here I was, Elara Vance, still breathing.
I’d traversed the Lake of Light, leaving behind the diminutive pixies – fairies, I should say. Ridiculously tiny, but apparently Xul has a fondness for them.
These fairies, you see, govern the lake, wielding its power over good thoughts and positive energy.
The demons, some of whom mutated because they failed to overcome the lake of torment, are always seen across the other border of the lake of dark.
As I passed the tiny fairies (just hope they don’t hear me), they took me to wherever their godmaster is, as they must have informed him that he has a visitor.
Unlike Draven’s sprawling estate, perpetually shrouded in shadows and flickering magical lights, Xul’s castle overflowed with illumination, thanks to the fairies that cover the place. Xul has always liked the comfort of light.
Everywhere, it’s just so bright that it can burn me.
Oh right, the light is full of magic.
This is so magical.
Now, I found myself surrounded by a botanical wonderland. Plants of every description thrived, flowers bursting into vibrant bloom, tended to by a swarm of industrious fairies who flitted between them, sprinkling pixie dust with a flourish.
The dust tickled my nose, threatening a sneeze.
It was beautiful.
The grass beneath my feet was impossibly soft, and I kicked off my low, white flats, surrendering to its luxurious caress.
It tickled, a sensation that almost coaxed a laugh from my lips. This was pure magic, sweet and joyful.
They say magic works wonders, all you have to do is open yourself to it, let it course through you. And that’s exactly what I was doing.
Lost in the wonder of nature, I began twirling.
Circles, then lines, I danced with an abandon I hadn’t known in ages. Until… I caught sight of Xul.
He stood amidst the flowers, a single bloom held delicately to his nose, inhaling its fragrance.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to compose. I straightened my back, the short haircut I’d opted for – a rebellion against the long tresses I once loathed – brushing my shoulders.
Blinking rapidly, I chased away the nervous flutter in my stomach. Dammit, this wasn’t my first meeting with Xul. So why was I nervous?
My gaze drifted to his hand, marveling at its masculine strength as he plucked a flower.
The sleeves of his tunic were rolled up, revealing a glimpse of forearms – and gods above, three buttons remained undone. The audacity! A traitorous part of me yearned to peek further, to see the rumored crystalline planes of his chest bathed in sunlight.
I want to devour every scent, every flavor of him.
I imagine the flower he plucked as me, him sniffing it as if it were me. What would it take for me to stop drooling over being that flower? My nipples tightened at the thought. This isn’t the time to start fantasizing about Xul now, Elara. My inner voice shouts at me, even as it keeps sending me cryptic images of Xul’s bare chest. Fuck. But what would be sweeter is seeing him fully bare, no clothes, nothing.
Now that, that was a touch too far.
A genuine nervousness, far more potent than my earlier fluster, washed over me as his gaze met mine.
Gone was the stoic mask he’d worn during our previous encounter. This Xul sported a smile, a stark contrast to his usual impassivity. Emotions were a curious thing with him, tightly leashed beasts he kept hidden beneath a facade of stoicism – perhaps a carefully cultivated image to project strength amongst his brothers.
The smile, however, suited him. Or... maybe he’s smiling because he’s been with one of those fairies. They’re small, and his... well, it wouldn’t fit into those pixies’ little holes, if they have any. By the Gods, why am I even thinking like that?
A soft murmur escaped his lips. I don’t know if it’s directed at me or the tiny pixies flying around. My apologies... fairies.
Okay, Elara, just as you’ve practiced: no badmouthing. But how can I badmouth when I’ve stumbled into his beautiful... paradise? His castle looks more like a paradise really. His private quarters were a breathtaking vista of cascading waterfalls, vibrant flora, and ethereal beauty.
Now this is where I supposed to be running to instead of Lord Draven’s dark fortress.
So no badmouthing, and I’ll stay true to myself being here.
Pushing down the treacherous thought, I straightened my gown and began, “My Prince...” My voice trailed off as a wave of annoyance washed over me. This whole elaborate curtsy felt… forced. Clearing my throat, I started again, “Prince Xu—”
“Spare me the theatrics, Elara,” his voice cut through the air from a distant, effectively severing my carefully constructed greeting. Well, that’s one plan down. But hey, at least his brothers aren’t here to witness my faux pas. They even wanted me to call him “Godmaster,” like some kind of deity-king hybrid. Not happening on my watch.
His voice returned, a low murmur, “We both know it doesn’t suit you.”
I flinched. When did he get so close? One moment he was a disembodied voice, the next he was practically looming behind me. Xul freaking Lin had teleported with such speed, I hadn’t even registered the shift. My grip on the gown loosened, and I straightened my back instinctively, trying to put some distance between us.
Sure, avoiding negativity was part of the plan, but maintaining a safe distance – at least two, preferably three feet – was also a priority.
Xul, however, was a walking redwood at an intimidating six-foot-six. Even a single stride of his could easily erase my carefully measured three-foot buffer zone.
“Yeah, it doesn’t...” I nearly stumble over my words, successfully putting some distance between us. “But I’ll still address you with the ‘desired respect.’ I wouldn’t want your loyal sprites gossiping to your brothers about my transgressions.”
A sly smile played across his lips. “Precisely why they’re loyal, Elarabeth. Their reports reach only my ears, no one else’s. And a word of advice – you wouldn’t want to refer to them as ‘sprites.’“
“Unflattering term? Pixies?” I sputtered, the weight of his words settling in just as a miniature whirlwind of iridescent fury materialized around me.
“Ah, yes,” Xul drawled, a hint of amusement dancing on his lips. “They take offense to the ‘pixie’ label.” He flicked his wrist dismissively, and the swarm of – wait, fairies? Right, fairies – scattered like startled fireflies.
Frustration bubbled within me. “They’re smaller than ants! How am I supposed to address them appropriately?”
A low chuckle escaped Xul’s lips. “Not ants, Elarabeth,” he purred, adding my full name with a knowing smirk. “Though they might take a nip at you for such a comparison.” He gestured towards the now-placated fairies, their tiny fists clenched in silent warning. “Small they may be, but fiercely loyal nonetheless. Just stick with ‘fairies,’ shall we?”
“But they’re so small—” My initial scoff about their size died on my lips the moment the “tiny” fairies transformed. They grew to a height that brushed my 5’7” frame, their forms undeniably enchanting.
Gone were the pixies flitting among the flowers; these were ethereal beings with an aura of twilight magic.
Their lips were full, their eyes possessed a captivating depth, promising secrets whispered on the wind.
The word “den” seemed crude to describe their dwellings. Perhaps “flower chalices” would be more fitting.
Nestled within the vibrant blossoms, the fairies were a study in captivating diversity.
Some possessed skin as pale as moonlight, others a rich, sun-kissed bronze, all with a faint, mesmerizing luminescence.
Their hair flowed like silken rivers, some cascading to veil their bodies, while others were styled in intricate braids that accentuated the delicate curves of their forms.
A fleeting thought crossed my mind. Maybe “tiny” wasn’t so bad after all.
Here, I was confronted with their unfettered beauty, a living embodiment of Shakespeare’s most eloquent verses on womanhood. Honestly, I think I preferred them tiny so I only had to see their wings and nothing else.
“Well, I guess I take back my words about them...” I said, smiling at the now-tall fairies. “I’m sorry I called you tiny. I see why you wouldn’t like that. Maybe a truce so you don’t bite me if you see me again?” I extended a hand in greeting, but the one with hair the color of dark wine and skin like sun-warmed chocolate seemed mesmerized. Her gaze lingered on me, a curious intensity in her deep brown eyes.
With a sigh, I turned back to Xul. “Do they ever listen to a word we say?”
A musky spice tickled my nose as Xul dipped lower, his presence once again looming behind me. I’d maintained a studious distance earlier, yet somehow, he always managed to bridge the gap.
“They do,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath ghosting over my ear. “Sukihanna understand you.”
“Wait,” I stammered, a flicker of surprise sparking within me. “They have a name?”
“Not ‘they,’ Elarabeth,” he chided playfully, his voice a touch theatrical. “It’s a ‘she.’“
He gestured towards another ethereal creature who now stood within arm’s reach. Her ivory skin shimmered, and her hair, pulled back in an elaborate style, did little to conceal the startling sight of her vibrant pink nipples.
“Oh, her,” I acknowledged, a wry smile gracing my lips.
“They,” Xul began, then corrected himself with a dramatic flourish, “she seems rather taken with you.”
“They or she?” I pressed, feigning confusion.
“All of them,” he declared, his gaze flickering to the cluster of fairies who huddled together, their whispers weaving a tapestry of sound. Frustration gnawed at me. My restricted magic rendered their language incomprehensible. Their chatter intensified, punctuated by pointed gestures in our direction. It was clear, even without interpreting their words, that Xul and I were the subject of their fervent discussions.
“Seems you find much delight in observing your fairy companions,” I remarked, my voice dripping with a hint of playful sarcasm. The use of “your” was deliberate, a subtle attempt to paint a picture of intimacy.
His response was enigmatic. “The only view I relish at present is the one directly below me.”
My brows furrowed in confusion. “And what might that view entail?” I inquired, my voice trailing off as my gaze followed his suggestive line of sight. It landed squarely on my bare feet. So, bare feet were the object of his newfound desire?
“Oh, how terribly unfortunate,” I drawled, feigning disappointment. “My humble feet simply cannot compete with the magnificence of your ethereal companions.” But even as I spoke, a flicker of amusement danced in my eyes. As if sensing a shift in the atmosphere, the fairies shrank back to their usual pixie size, their towering forms dissolving back into the background. Interesting.
A low chuckle rumbled from Xul’s chest. “Nonsense, my dear Elarabeth,” he countered, his voice taking on a playful challenge. “I find both views captivating, though I daresay your own possesses a certain…tastefulness that the others lack.”
A shiver snaked down my spine as he continued to stare. “Perhaps I should find my footwear,” I murmured, desperately trying to deflect his attention from...well, from my feet. “Wouldn’t want such mundane details to be the distraction, would we?”
A sardonic smile played on his lips. “Elarabeth, my dear,” he drawled, the amusement evident in his voice, “removing your shoes at this point could only be interpreted as a sign of...satisfaction with your accommodations.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed, the word barely escaping my lips. “As if I had any choice in the matter! Besides, the sooner I’m out of this gilded cage, the better.”
A glint sparked in his eyes. “Surely, Elarabeth,” he purred, “you can admit to a modicum of enjoyment during your stay in my humble manor. It wouldn’t be such a terrible thing to say, would it?”
My lips formed a stubborn line. “Enjoying myself here? Hardly,” I muttered, the words catching in my throat before they could fully escape. There was no way I’d utter such a blatant lie.
“Perhaps,” he offered, a hint of challenge in his voice, “if I were to assist you in removing that pesky restriction bangles, a word of appreciation might be forthcoming?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises. Before I could overthink it, a choked “Yes” escaped my lips. Yes, I craved the freedom that removing the bangles offered. Yes, I was willing to utter a white lie to expedite my release. However, there was one truth I couldn’t deny: the undeniable pull I felt towards him, a force that needed to be resisted with every fiber of my being.
Taking a deep breath, I inched forward, then pivoted on my heel, measuring the distance between us. Three paces, to be exact. “Are you certain about this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my gaze momentarily snagged on his otherworldly luminescence.
He ignored my question, his voice sharp with command. “Elarabeth. Extend your hand.”
“Are you going to take them off if I do lift my hand?” I questioned.
“No,” came his swift, clipped reply.
“Then I’m not saying I enjoy my experience here in your manor,” I echoed his earlier statement. His facade faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features as a weighty silence descended upon us. The only sound was the delicate whisper of tiny wings as the ever-present fairies flitted about.
“I can read your heart, Elarabeth. Your thoughts are enough to tell me you’re enjoying your experience here,” he said.
“Well, that’s just cheating.”
“That’s me taking the easier route,” he conceded, taking a single, deliberate stride forward. It effortlessly bridged the distance I’d placed between us.
“Still cheating,” I said, taking a strategic step back.
A slow grin spread across Xul’s face, sending a jolt of heat through me. “I can play this little game of ours over and over again,” he warned, a playful glint in his eyes.
Here comes my traitorous mind conjuring an image of him unfastening the last two buttons of his shirt.
Stifling a blush, I mentally shook my head to clear the unwelcome fantasy.
“And that’s why I don’t want to play,” I said, taking a breath. “I came here because you commanded it, and I couldn’t refuse.”
“I just needed your presence...”
“With you surrounded by fairies, I think my presence here isn’t that important,” I admitted cautiously.
A knowing smile touched his lips. “Do you want to compete with them?”
A wry snort escaped my lips. “Competing with them? I wouldn’t stand a chance,” I muttered, the urge to roll my eyes a physical ache behind my lids.
“Of course you can,” he countered, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long. It wasn’t a blatant appraisal, more like a slow, simmering scan that sent a shiver down my spine. “All you have to do is shred those clothes, and trust me, your attention will be solely mine.”
The way he emphasized the word ‘mine’ sent a jolt through me, a delicious warmth. Heat rose in my cheeks, blossoming into a wildfire that danced down my neck, igniting my breasts, and settling low in my belly. A forbidden warmth bloomed between my thighs, a sensation both terrifying and thrilling.
As a virgin, the fantasy of surrendering to a single touch, someone who could unlock a kaleidoscope of orgasms I couldn’t even fathom was intoxicating. But the man I desired remained unspoken, a secret wish locked away. But you know whom I’m referring to.
He didn’t just look at me; he read me. Oh, gods above, I could feel the embarrassment coloring my cheeks. I prayed he wouldn’t guess my secret—that I was a virgin. That revelation would doom me, igniting a sexual urge I wasn’t sure I could control.
Xul’s intense gaze made me falter, stumbling over my words. “I-I don’t think my body can compete...” Elara, what in the nine hells are you babbling?
“It...” His voice was a guttural sound, almost a growl that rumbled in his chest. The air shimmered, and in a heartbeat, he stood behind me, his hand closing around my most sensitive spot – the nape of my neck. A primal thrill shot through me, a weakness vampires couldn’t resist. “Right here,” he murmured, his voice a heated caress that sent my breath hitching. A breathless smile played on my lips, a delicious surrender to the raw power coursing through us.
“I’m not taking off my clothes...” I said firmly. His breath, cold and inviting, tickled the nape of my neck, moving forward. His grip tightened, causing my blood to pulse. The tighter his hold, the stronger my need to feed on blood. It was awakening my senses. No, blood. No blood, no blood, no blood... I repeated the mantra in my head. I had pledged not to feed on blood, and I must fulfill it.
“You don’t need to... your scent, the bare elegance of your form – they’re branded into my memory, an endless loop that consumes me. They never leave me. Everything about you stays with me,” he said.
Witnessing his vulnerability was a cruel twist. This raw yearning, this desperate need – how could I resist? It ignited a yearning in me as well, a primal echo resonating from a dormant part of my being. Fuck.
Then, a searing heat blossomed along my spine as his lips grazed my neck. My backside involuntarily pressed back, a shocking jolt as I felt the insistent presence of him against me. Dammit. A silent curse echoed within me. This wasn’t part of the plan. Maintain distance. Avoid his... protrusion. Impossible. Yet my traitorous body is craving the very touch it should be denying.
“Fuck this,” I hissed, the words laced with a tremor of frustrated arousal. “Fuck those feelings.” My reason, my carefully constructed plan, felt like cobwebs in a hurricane. All I could focus on was the scorching need to maintain distance, to somehow escape the gravitational pull of his... arousal.
“Xul,” I rasped, the word barely a whisper above a strangled moan, “let go.”
“Those thoughts swirling in your head...” Xul’s voice rumbled, an edge of amusement lacing his tone, “...don’t quite match the story your body’s telling, do they?”
His touch lingered, a pointed reminder against my straining core.
Though every fiber of my being screamed for escape, my traitorous body pressed closer, grinding shamelessly against his arousal.
My mind, a traitor as well, conjured vivid images of him claiming every hidden crevice of my flesh, his powerful thrusts sending shivers down my spine.
Fuck.
“Xul, please,” I choked out, the plea a ragged whisper. If my own body wouldn’t obey, surely he would respect my wishes? But a flicker of doubt shadowed that hope.
“Mmm,” he growled, a primal sound as he surged deeper, his heat branding my backside. Denial was futile. This, the very thing I’d dreaded, was unfolding. “Elara,” his breath hitched, “I can’t hold back any longer.”
My own breaths echoed his ragged pace, panic clawing at my throat. “Neither can I,” I gasped, the words a desperate confession.
“So close,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
“Too close,” I mirrored, my voice barely above a whimper.
“I just want to sink my fangs into every inch of your fucking neck,” he voice dipped, his grip on my neck loosening fractionally. And just like that, Xul—whom I never thought would respect my wishes—let go.
I regained control over my body, but I was left speechless, nearly breathless. My head spun, a chaotic whirlwind of emotions.
I had anticipated something like this happening between Xul and me, but never imagined it would actually come to pass. And now that it had, I couldn’t even piece my thoughts together.
Each retreat felt deliberate, a measured retreat of one, two, then three steps backward.
My gaze remained stubbornly downcast, unable to meet his.
The silence between us was a suffocating entity, heavy and potent enough to drown me whole. We weren’t speaking, and frankly, neither could I. Had the fairies witnessed the exchange with Xul and I? Of course they had. Tiny they might be, but their sight was all-encompassing.
Unable to bear the pressure any longer, I lifted my chin, stealing a glance at Xul’s face. Despite my attempt at composure, a tremor ran through me.
His expression was an unreadable mask, a stark contrast to the earlier smirk that had played upon his lips. Was he angry? The prickling sensation on my skin suggested so.
Regardless, a wave of embarrassment and self-reproach washed over me. I was far more irritated with myself for what had happened than with Xul. The blame rested squarely on my shoulders.
Determined to break the suffocating silence, I spoke, my voice catching in my throat. “Perhaps you should learn to smile more often...” I ventured, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush. “It might, well, lighten the mood a bit.” Lighten the mood? Elara, you utter dolt. Is that the best you can muster? True, he did exude a brooding intensity when the dangerous glint wasn’t dancing in his eyes.
Silence stretched between us, taut as a lute string. No response. Was he still angry? It was tempting to draw conclusions, a habit I was diligently trying to break.
Swallowing, I continued, “I brought you something...” My hand dipped into the hidden pocket nestled in the bodice of my gown. I retrieved a folded parchment tied with a silken cord, revealing a miniature, ornately carved jar nestled within.
“I couldn’t help but notice your affinity for nature,” I confessed, a touch of warmth creeping into my voice. My gaze swept over the vibrant gardenia haven surrounding us, the air buzzing with the gentle hum of fairies flitting amongst the blooms. “Your dedication to your flowers is truly admirable.”
With a practiced flick of my wrist, I sent the wrapped vial swinging like a pendulum. A furrow creased his brow, a flicker of something akin to suspicion crossing his features. It was the most animated expression I’d ever witnessed, a stark contrast to his usual stoicism.
“Before you leap to conclusions,” I interjected, a hint of defensiveness coloring my tone, “yes, it contains magic. However, this has been in my possession long before the unwelcome arrival of this power-restricting bangles.” My voice dropped to a near whisper. “It belonged to my twin. She, too, cherished the natural world, much like you.” A pang of grief lanced through me. “For years, it lay dormant, a constant reminder of her absence. But then I thought of a kindred spirit, a master of the natural world who could use its essence...”
My justification felt hollow. Perhaps revealing such a personal detail was a misstep. Vulnerability wasn’t something I readily embraced.
Sharing glimpses of my past was uncharted territory, a path fraught with the ghosts of memories best left undisturbed.
Oh, gods. This was a mistake. The words hung heavy in the air, leaving me feeling exposed.
My twin sister, Bethany, six days my senior, possessed a heart that mirrored the sun itself – a vibrant, life-affirming force that yearned for the very thing that threatened our existence. As half-vampire, half-witches, sunlight was a cruel paradox; it fueled our magic yet withered our skin.
Yet, Bethany, ever the optimist, dreamt of defying fate.
One day, consumed by a yearning for mortality, she concocted a spell to transform her skin into that of a human. It was a foolish wish, a rebellion against our inherent immortality. But Bethany, perfect in her magic and eternally captivating to our mother, held an undeniable influence. It was only after her untimely demise that I truly embraced my own magical heritage.
But before her untimely demise, she’d gifted me a vial of her captured sunlight, imbued with its own unique magic – the power to coax life from even the most barren soil.
Steeling myself, I approached Xul’s imposing figure and reached out, my fingers brushing against his cool hand as I placed the wrapped vial in his palm. A blush crept up my neck, a traitor betraying my composure under the intoxicating aura that surrounded him. “I wouldn’t normally share something so personal,” I admitted softly, “but I have a feeling this might be of use, even to someone like you.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his features, quickly replaced by a gentle smile. Finally. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice a welcome balm to my sudden fluster. “And for this...” he added, raising the vial with reverence, “I’ll treasure it dearly, especially knowing it came from you.”
A blush crept up my cheeks at his words. With a flick of his wrist, Xul infused the jar with magic. It floated effortlessly into the air, the lid unhinging at his command.
Then, in a mesmerizing display of power, the jar tipped upside down, sprinkling its contents onto a patch of bare earth within the garden.
The ever-present fairies, sensing the magic at play, flitted about, their tiny wings stirring the air as they misted the soil with an ethereal dew.
Before my astonished eyes, a miracle unfolded.
Seeds, dormant for years within the jar, sprouted with phenomenal speed.
Within moments, a breathtaking bloom emerged, unlike any I’d ever witnessed.
It was the Nightshade Lily, a magnificent flower with velvety black petals that shimmered with an inner luminescence. Delicate silver veins traced its surface, and at its center, nestled a cluster of miniature, pearlescent fruits that pulsed with a faint, bioluminescent glow. It was a sight both otherworldly and utterly captivating.
Bewildered, I stared at the blossoming wonder.
Years I’d kept that jar, dormant and forgotten, yet its magic remained potent. It was a testament to Bethany’s power, a final, unexpected gift from my extraordinary twin sister.
A delicate fairy flitted down, plucking the Nightshade Lily with a reverence I couldn’t help but admire. She presented the flower to Xul, who took it with a reverence of his own. The way he inhaled its fragrance was a slow, deliberate act that sent a jolt through me. I squeezed my eyes shut, battling the traitorous warmth that bloomed in my lower abdomen. The sound of his voice, a low murmur brushing against my ear, shattered my fragile composure.
“Hold still,” he whispered, the heat of his breath sending shivers down my spine. We were impossibly close, yet a tantalizing breath separated our bodies. My traitorous body trembled under his touch, a tremor I knew wouldn’t escape his notice.
“I can’t,” I mumbled, the breath catching in my throat as he adjusted the flower until it sat perfectly. Then, his hand drifted to my chin, his fingers cool against my heated skin.
He tilted my face up, his gaze locking with mine. Gods, those eyes. They were black holes, swirling with an intensity that both terrified and enthralled me. Flecks of silver danced within their depths, like fallen stars trapped in a cosmic storm.
For a heart-stopping moment, his lips parted, I thought he was going to kiss me. But instead, he spoke, his voice a low rumble. “Those dimples,” he murmured, “they make you look deceptively innocent.”
Innocent? My heart lurched. Did he think me a naive child, untouched by the world? Or... Did he sense the virginal magic still clinging to me, a telltale sign I’d desperately tried to hide?
Oh no. I braced myself...
“You’re not innocent, are you?” he continued, his voice laced with a hint of amusement and…seriousness. My breath hitched. Now he was certain.
“Innocent like what?” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Like your facade,” he said simply.
A wave of relief washed over me, calming my frantic heartbeat. “Oh, yeah, that. Definitely not!” I blurted out, a touch too quickly.
His gaze lingered on my lips a beat too long, the ghost of his touch leaving a phantom sensation on my skin. My own heart lingered on that touch, a silent plea for more.
“I just wanted to...” he trailed off, his voice laced with frustration. With a sigh, he seemingly abandoned whatever thought he’d been entertaining. “I have something to show you, Elara.” Thankfully, the annoying nickname was absent this time.
A flicker of suspicion crossed my mind.
For a fleeting, horrifying moment, I envisioned him whisking me away to his chambers, a predatory glint in his eyes, intending to… No. I shut down that train of thought immediately.
Elarabeth Vance, get a grip! I muttered under my breath, the annoying nickname clinging to me like a second skin. Silently, I cursed Xul’s infuriating influence for that one.
Straightening my shoulders, I forced myself to appear composed. “Alright,” I managed, my voice betraying the nervous flutter in my stomach.
“But first,” he said, his gaze intense, “there’s one thing I need from you.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “Anything,” I offered, my voice barely audible.
“I need you to...” he paused for dramatic effect, “...let me in.”
Let Xul in? The implication hung heavy in the air, a tantalizing invitation that both terrified and excited me. My mind raced, conjuring lurid images of what “letting him in” might entail.