Chapter 13 When The Storm Brews
WHEN THE STORM brEWS
VANESSA
Ididn’t know exactly what was going on in his mind, but it looked as though he was at war with himself. I could see the battle flickering there, behind those midnight-blue eyes. The struggle between the darkness he wielded and something softer he tried so desperately to bury.
All I knew was that, somehow, it felt like a victory of my own when the hand he’d wrapped around my throat loosened its hold.
What once threatened now soothed. His fingers, still firm, trailed slowly against my skin, no longer a claim of dominance, but a touch that burned with restraint.
The shift was subtle, yet it undid me completely.
A tremor ran through me, not born of fear this time, but from something deeper, something that coiled hot and low inside me.
It was as though the world had stopped turning, trapping us in this moment where neither dared move nor breathe too loud, for fear of breaking whatever spell had bound us together.
There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a hesitation that didn’t belong to the monster he claimed to be. He looked as if he were holding his breath, waiting for me to recoil, to flee, to remind him who he was supposed to be. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
Finally, I broke the silence, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I know you don’t want to hurt me.”
The words seemed to strike him harder than I’d expected. His body jolted, the smallest twitch of denial or maybe guilt. Yet still, he didn’t step away.
His eyes searched mine, voice low and rough.
“No…But what if I wanted something else?”
The question tangled in the air between us. The heat in his voice sent my pulse racing, my breath catching as if the very meaning of his words had seared through me. I swallowed hard, and his gaze followed the movement of my throat as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
I opened my mouth to reply, but Mother Nature decided for me.
Lightning tore across the sky, illuminating the grounds in a blinding flash before a deep, rolling thunder followed, shaking the earth beneath our feet. I startled with a gasp, my body reacting before my mind could, stepping closer to him.
He caught me instinctively, his hand wrapping around my arm, steadying me.
For a heartbeat, we just stood there, the storm brewing above us, the scent of rain thick in the air.
His touch lingered, firm and protective, and when I looked up, the space between us felt charged, the air itself alive and sparking.
I could barely think, barely breathe. Every drop of rain that began to fall seemed to slow time, the first few scattering across his dark hair and rolling down the curve of his mask.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he said quietly, his voice low and rough, almost swallowed by the rumble of thunder.
“Like…wh…what?” I managed, my voice trembling, though whether from the cold or the moment, I wasn’t sure. His eyes caught the lightning as it flashed again, twin shards of blue burning through the night.
“Like you want me to forget what I am,” he admitted, making me gasp as my heart thundered in my chest.
“And what if I don’t?” I whispered, unable to look away.
He inhaled slowly, his chest rising as if he was fighting something inside himself. Then he leaned in, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath, the pull of the moment drawing me toward him.
“Then let me show you,” he murmured. The words were a promise, a warning, and a plea all at once. His hand lifted, brushing a stray strand of hair from my cheek, and for an instant, the world stilled, balanced on the edge of something forbidden.
Then the heavens opened.
The sky split apart with a violent crack, and rain poured down in a heavy, unrelenting sheet. The first drops hit like ice against my skin, soaking through fabric, drenching everything in seconds.
I gasped, blinking up through the downpour, my hair plastered against my face, and saw him staring at me, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and a suppressed laugh.
“Well… I guess someone is angry at us,” I said breathlessly, my voice half-laugh, half-shiver as I looked up at the dark grey sky.
He blinked, then something remarkable happened.
A sound, low and rough, broke from his chest…
a laugh. It was short, startled, and beautiful.
But before I could say anything else, he caught my hand.
“Come on,” he said, and this time there was no hesitation.
We ran.
The rain soaked us as we crossed the courtyard, our feet splashing through puddles, the storm raging around us.
He stayed half a step ahead, his grip firm, unyielding, keeping me close as lightning streaked the horizon.
By the time we reached the manor steps, we were both breathless and dripping, hair slicked to our faces, our laughter mingling with the sound of the storm.
He paused under the stone archway, turning toward me.
Water ran down his face, tracing the edges of his mask, and his chest rose and fell in time with mine.
For a moment, I forgot about the rain, the thunder, even the cold.
Because the only thing that existed was him, standing there with the storm at his back.
“You’re trembling,” he said quietly.
“It’s cold,” I lied, my voice catching. Something in his gaze softened.
“Inside, before you catch your death,” he said, taking a step closer. His voice was rough again, but this time, it carried something else beneath it, something tender I had never heard before.
“Okay, I am going to ban you from ever saying that again,” I teased, making him actually wink at me before he opened the door, ushering me in first. The warmth of the manor rushed to meet me, candles flickering in welcome.
And just before the heavy doors closed behind us, I looked back at him, standing in the rain, half in shadow and half in light.
And that was when I realised something far more dangerous than fear.
Even soaked to the skin and shivering, I didn’t feel cold.
No.
I only felt seconds away from being…
Claimed.