Chapter 10
ten
Ivy
Leseldh’s fury burned hot and bright when he learned of what took place at The Silver Sluice. When his eyes fell to the burn mark on Ivy’s chest, his eyes glowed a shade of gold that she’d never seen before.
In the weeks that followed, the mark faded to a barely discernible pale pink line.
But it didn’t escape Leseldh’s notice; his expression changed whenever he cast his eyes upon it.
He preferred her in outfits that covered the mark, and she was happy to oblige.
She shuddered every time she looked at the scar in the mirror, and unwelcome images of her harrowing encounters with Killian flooded her mind.
Shortly after the incident, Leseldh’s Shapeshifter case was closed, and Ivy and Leseldh’s magnetism resumed.
Ivy became his focus once again and they returned to a comfortable rhythm, where she could explore the true depth of her feelings for him.
With Leseldh to occupy her, her desire to visit Zentroa’s clubs diminished.
Under Leseldh’s guardianship, she returned to Sabor Sanguine for their nightly feeds.
They hadn’t crossed paths with the Hunter on any of their outings.
Ivy’s favourite nights were those spent at the Theatre Enthique.
She found herself there with Leseldh almost three months after the night at The Silver Sluice.
They were seated in his private box, and she wore a high-necked, sleeveless black dress.
It was tight-fitting to the hips, with a delicate, flowing skirt that kissed the ground.
Leseldh was also dressed all in black. The colour set off his silvered locks and caramel-coloured eyes in a way that made Ivy’s heart race.
Burlesque dancers graced the stage with glittering costumes and risqué performances to lively music. The air was charged with sexual energy, and although Ivy was intrigued, Leseldh seemed intent on pulling her focus tonight.
Leseldh sat to Ivy’s left with his hand resting on her thigh.
Her attention on the performance wavered when his hand started to drift up and down her leg in a gentle caress.
His movements changed with each musical number that played, and by the time the house lights rose for intermission, Ivy was squirming in her seat.
Ivy saw her desire reflected in his eyes of molten gold.
It was all the encouragement she needed to lean across and crash her lips against his.
Their kiss was urgent, hungry and passionate.
At some point she found herself in his lap, and their arms wrapped around one another during their clash of lips, teeth and tongues.
They could barely tear themselves away from one another as the theatre grew dim and the performance resumed.
Ivy remained in Leseldh’s lap, and she felt his teasing caresses, gentle kisses along her exposed shoulders and the rush of his warm breath against her neck. She couldn’t get enough.
“How long do you think this thing has left?” Ivy asked breathily, impatience creeping into her tone. She turned her back to the stage, coiling herself around him. Her interest in the performance was dead and buried.
“At least a few more performers.”
“I was thinking…” Ivy started, whispering against Leseldh’s neck.
His response was a soft “hmm?” and the sound’s vibrations sent chills skating through Ivy’s body.
“If we leave now, we’ll avoid the crowds.” Ivy barely finished the sentence before Leseldh stood, forcing her to scramble out of his lap. His hand clasped hers and they hurried from the theatre.