Aldric
Iwatched the woman attempt to escape Blackthorn Keep all day. I find it surprising that the curse keeps her confined as it does me—my servants and their descendants were free to come and go, bringing supplies and new livestock as needed. Though I have been alone now for… a long time.
When I heard her tell the cat her fantasies for a bath and strawberries, I couldn’t resist. I warmed and carried each bucket of water upstairs like a gaggle of ladies’ maids.
Then I picked fresh strawberries and laid them out next to the bath.
All the while, Schmetterling—named so by a servant’s daughter when he was a kitten, though the cursed cat outlived her entire line—watched me with silent judgement.
He always was a smug feline. After all, he stayed beautiful while his master slowly decayed.
I observed as the mortal ran from one corner of the keep to the other, searching for… well, I guess she was searching for me. Though the way she’s screaming now makes me think she’d rather I had stayed hidden. Just Blackthorn’s ghost.
“Stop shrieking,” I admonish, feeling more self-conscious by the second. I have seen my reflection on occasion. I know I’m hideous.
The woman screams louder.
Sighing, I step closer to the bathtub, trying very hard to keep my gaze above the waterline. I should be commended for my restraint. A quick glance was enough to show stiff nipples outlined through thin wet fabric.
I raise my hands and speak with what I believe is a reassuring tone. “I assure you I will not—”
The woman scrambles out of the bathtub, nearly falling three separate times.
Water spills everywhere, including over my pants and boots.
I reach to steady her, but she vaults out and sprints for the doorway, dressed only in translucent, soaked underthings.
By Saint George’s lance… I’m not sure I can stand not touching her.
Her bare feet make slapping sounds against the stone tiles as she puts distance between us.
“Wait,” I order, my voice like gravel.
When she continues running, a growl builds up in my chest. She is insolent, far too tempting for her own good, and my patience is running thin.
My fists clench and unclench at my sides as I stride after her.
In the bedroom, Schmetterling stares at me with the haughtiness of one who hasn’t been touched by time as his master has.
“Fuck off,” I rumble, not bothering to slow down. If she manages to get out of the castle wet and undressed, she’ll catch a fever. I’ve seen too many servants succumb to illness over the years to allow that to happen to the only living human Blackthorn Keep has seen for decades.
The woman has already reached the landing.
Despite nearly promising not to touch her before, I now grab her wrist and spin her around.
She’s panting, staring up at me with undisguised fear.
Her eyes are enchanting, blue with hints of purple.
Her plush lips are parted, and I can’t help but fantasize about how they’d feel wrapped around my cock.
Pale and unblemished, her skin is begging for my touch.
“You’re ravishing,” I whisper in awe.
She blinks at me. “And you’re d—d—d—”
I sigh, resigned. “Are you attempting to say I’m dead? Because I believe the term you are looking for is undead.”
I step closer, pressing my hard manhood against her soft belly. “As you can see, parts of me are very much alive.”
The woman’s mouth falls wide open as her breath catches in her throat. I’ve been told I am endowed far beyond the great majority of men. Hard as she makes me, my arousal is unmistakable.
“Do you like this?” I ask her, grinding my pelvis against her with slow circles. “I am sure you’ve never felt anything like it before.”
“N—no,” she stutters unconvincingly. “Get away from me, you—you monster.”
Rather than feel offended or hurt, I throw my head back and laugh. “Don’t lie to me, little intruder,” I drawl with a smirk, slowly leaning in so our lips are inches apart. Her skin turns blue from the glow of my cursed eye. “I saw the way you looked at my portrait.”
“Your portrait?” I can all but see the calculations going on behind her eyes. “But that would make you…”
“Hundreds of years old?” I tilt my head. “Is that truly the most surprising thing about me?”
A moment of silence. Then she asks: “Who—what are you?”
I allow my lips to graze over the curve of her cheek as they move to her ear.
“My name is Lord Aldric Blackthorn, and you are in my home, little intruder.” I pull back, considering. “Well, one of my homes. Though I have been limited to this one long enough to live through the rise and fall of empires thanks to a vengeful witch.”
The woman’s breathing hitches as my cold skin touches hers.
“As for what… I’ve been told the word for what I’ve become is revenant.”
“That can’t…” She trails off, staring at me and slowly shaking her head as she tries to deny my words. My appearance makes that impossible.
“And what is your name?” I ask her when the silence stretches for too long. “Or shall I just call you my little intruder?”
“C—Clara,” she breathes. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“Hurt you?” I bark out a bitter laugh. “Why would I hurt the only woman who’s tempted me since my life was essentially taken from me?”
“What do you want from me?” Clara asks, desperation leaking into her voice.
Grinning, I press my forehead against hers. “Everything. I want everything from you, Clara.”