CH.10 Sweet temptations
The sky was adorned with a moon surrounded by thousands of stars. The brightest jewels of the night. Iris was already tired of Anastasia's talk about what wonderful times she had with the prince.
"Stop rolling your eyes," her stepmother chided her. "And smile when we get to the palace."
"As you wish, madam," Iris said bitterly.
"From now on, you will call me your mother. As it is what I am to you by the law."
Iris laughed.
"You are not my mother and never will. She died when I was a child."
"Don't make me your enemy, Iris. I can make you lose everything."
In front of the palace, servants were already waiting for them to help them carry their luggage, and the prince was waiting for his bride-to-be.
He took Anastasia in his arms and kissed her passionately, and she kissed him back.
Iris looked away. She was disgusted. She clenched her fists until they bled, welcoming the pain it sent through her veins.
"I apologize," the prince came back to himself, his eyes falling on them.
"It is a pleasure to meet you again, Madam Tremaine.
A day without your beautiful daughter has seemed like an eternity.
" nonchalantly he kissed the back of her hand and turned his attention to Iris.
"You must be Miss Iris, Anastasia's stepsister. "
"Yes, Your Highness." She bowed respectfully to him.
Her stepmother gave her a warning look. Iris curled her lips into a fake smile and as soon as Prince Edmund turned his back on her, she let it evaporate into nothingness again.
"Your chambers are ready. The servants will show you around. I will take care of my bride."
Anastasia giggled and left with her prince.
"Don't forget that from now on you will obey every single word I say, otherwise you will know the consequences." the stepmother whispered to Iris with poison on her tongue, promising terrible punishment if she dared to disobey.
"I will not forget, madam," she said. "You will never let me."
The maid led Iris to her room. It was better than what she had expected.
She had honestly expected to be thrown into the stables on straw with the horses.
But she was given a room with a four-poster bed.
The room even had a desk and its own bathtub.
There was enough space for all her sewing supplies.
She was honestly surprised. She had thought her stepmother would make sure she ended up in a dungeon somewhere, where she could blackmail her.
But when Eddie, Prince Edmund, said that their chambers were ready, he must have meant her stepmother's and Anastasia's, not hers.
Cobwebs hung in the corners. As she lay down on the bed, allowing her body to rest after a long day, a cloud of dust rose into the air. It made her cough.
"I'll probably have a lot of work to do before sleep," she sighed.
Iris dusted the blankets and pillows. She dusted the canopy of the bed.
Fluffy dust flew off it like snowflakes in the freezing winter.
She felt like suffocating from it. She polished the candlesticks and mirrors.
They reflected the flickering light of the candles throughout the room.
She plastered all the cobwebs. By dawn, she had managed to clean the room into a habitable condition.
She filled the tub and allowed her tired body to finally rest. She sat down in the warm embrace of the water, playing with the flower petals floating on the surface.
Herbs scented the air. She was very very tired.
Her eyelids felt heavy. The deafening silence hanging in the air called her into sweet unconsciousness.
Slowly, her body slid deeper and deeper into the water.
Up to her neck. The warm water touched her lips.
Her head sank below the surface. She felt the water engulf her, but she was too tired to break free from its grip.
She just wanted to close her eyes and fall asleep.
Luc pulled her out of the water. The cold air brushed her skin. She took a deep breath. The air filled her lungs again. It woke her to life. The demon pushed her wet hair away from her face. Fear was written in his eyes. The demon trembled with fear as he held her tightly in his arms.
"What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to kill yourself?"
She opened her eyes and saw her lovely demon. His golden eyes, which even shaded the sunlight. A fleeting smile involuntarily loomed on her lips. She felt safe in his embrace.
"I just closed my eyes for a second."
"Next time you're tired and want to sleep, you better choose the bed. You scared me."
"Were you worried about me?" she grinned mischievously at the thought.
"I'm supposed to protect you, in case you forgot. Your self-destructive tendencies make it difficult for me."
"Sorry."
He noticed how she pulled away from him, how she tried to cover herself because she was completely naked.
But the clear water could not hide her from his gaze.
It made him smile briefly. He took off his jacket and, like a true gentleman, threw it over her shoulders so she could cover herself.
She pulled herself into it. She smelled the fabric that smelled like rose beds and the air after a storm.
At that, Luc seemed to pull a rose out of the void.
He sat on the edge of the bathtub. He tore off its snow-white petals and let them fall to the surface of the water.
"Why roses?" Iris asked him.
"They are like you," he replied. "Beautiful to look at, but prickly if you get too close." He gently ran t his finger over the sharp thorn, not letting it dig into his skin. "Many have tried to win your heart, but you have never let anyone near you."
"I may have let you get too close to me. I'd appreciate it if you'd give me some privacy."
"That's out of the question. You'd still may drown."
"If you haven't noticed, I'm naked. And I'd like to get dressed."
"I've noticed and cannot say I don't like the view."
"Luc!" she blushed. She felt her cheeks burning.
She splashed water on him. Luc stared at the wet spot on his shirt. The white fabric shone through, revealing his sculpted chest. He began to unbutton it gradually. Button by button. Very slowly. He made sure to get her attention.
"What are you doing?" she asked him, holding her breath.
He bit his lower lip gracefully. His eyes sparkled mischievously as if the gold in them wasn't enough. He liked the way he could make her tremble when she held her breath and her heart beat faster. The color of shyness in her cheeks.
"I'm only giving you what you want. You wet my shirt, so you obviously want me to take it off. No wonder. I'm charming, attractive, and muscular. Also funny. Who could resist? Maybe I could join you."
"No!" she exclaimed in shock.
"Your voice says something else, my little witch."
He took off his shirt, exposing his muscled chest. Iris closed her eyes.
She covered her face in shame. Maybe she peeked through her fingers.
Just a little. She watched as he took off his shirt.
He let it fall to the floor. He kept his pants on and climbed into the tub after her.
He grabbed the hem of his jacket and pulled her close.
He sat her on his lap. He pushed her hands away from her face.
"You're not being very gallant now, Luc," she told him.
"Maybe it's because I don't even want to be."
He took a wet strand of her hair in his palm, playing with it. He wrapped it around his finger. He felt her breath tremble, her heart pounding even faster. Every beat echoing through her whole body.
"Are you tempted, dear Iris?"
He slid his palm down her waist and onto her thigh. His fingertips gently caressed her skin, teasing it, then grabbed her tightly and held her even closer to him.
"If so, then I'm probably doing something right."
"And what is your temptation, Luc?" she asked him. She didn't even know why. It escaped her mouth before she could stop the words.
"I'll be happy to show you."
He kissed her neck. His tongue gently wander over her sensitive skin.
He was biting softly. Iris held her breath.
Their lips touched. At first fleetingly, then more passionately and predatorily.
He claimed her soul insatiably. And she gave it to him.
There was something poisoned about his kisses, yet so addictive.
She wanted more and more. She couldn't get enough.
"This isn't right, Luc," she said through the kisses.
"I know," he said. "I shouldn't get involved with you, but you're my irresistible temptation, Iris."
His kisses were insatiable. He was like a predator savoring his prey.
He stole her breath. There was a certain urgency in them, for the moment to never end.
For her to be his. Only his. But then Iris came to her senses.
She rested her head on his chest, listened to the calm and powerful beat of his heart while hers beat wildly.
"I can't," she said.
"I'll wait for you. I'll wait for you, my queen. We have whole eternity."
?
Iris curled up in the blankets, ready to finally sleep. She had darkened all the windows so the morning sun wouldn't disturb her. But as soon as she closed her eyes, there was a knock on the door. She wanted to ignore it, hoping that the intruder would leave.
"Miss, are you awake?" a female voice called out.
When Iris didn't answer, the maid came in. She gave her an unhappy look.
"I'm tired. Please let me sleep."
"I'm sorry, miss, but I can't," said the maid. "Madam Tremaine sent me for you. You are expected to have breakfast with His Royal Majesty."
So Iris had no choice but to force herself to get up and get ready for breakfast.
She put on the first dress she took out of the chest. Blue, with a skirt that looked like it was made of butterfly wings. It was shorter, exposing her ankles. The lacing exposed her graceful back.
"What on earth are you wearing?" her stepmother almost screamed in horror, waiting for her outside the dining room.
"Dress," she replied.
"So provocative? You could have come naked," her stepmother scolded her.
"If you wish so, I can take them off right here and now," Iris said.
"Don't embarrass me in front of the king and queen, Iris," an outraged Anastasia told her.
"Do you think you're funny?"
"No, stepmother."
"Madam."
"Yes, ma'am. I'm just trying to fulfill your every wish, ma'am."
"Then stop causing trouble."
The doors opened, revealing the royal family's lavish private dining room, to which only their closest people were allowed access. They bowed deeply before them.
"Please stand," said the king. "Our future daughter and her family do not have to bow to us."
Iris was the first to come to terms with it. In a way, she accepted the rebels' views. Jace had passed that on to her. And in a way, it was her pride. She refused to bow to anyone.
"You must be Iris, Madam Tremaine's stepdaughter." The queen approached her.
"Yes, Your Majesty," said Iris.
"A very bold dress."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said, even though she knew it wasn't well-meaning. "I made them myself. So did the ones Anastasia has now, or my dear stepmother."
"You must have inherited your talent from your mother."
"Yes."
"I knew her. Dahlia was an excellent seamstress. It's just a shame she turned down the position of court seamstress."
"The royal court is bound by centuries-old conventions. My mother was a free-thinking soul who valued her freedom and did not want to be bound by rules."
"Are you also a freethinker, Miss Iris?" the queen gave her a questioning look.
"I hope so," she replied.
The king laughed. "It must have been difficult to tame such a personality, Madam Tremaine."
"I did what I could. I only wanted the best for both of my daughters. Even though Iris is not my blood, I accepted her as my own and loved her as if I myself gave her life," said the stepmother.
Iris laughed inwardly. But she also heard someone else's laughter.
Luc appeared there. But again, no one saw him.
He walked among them unnoticed. He threw contemptuous glances at the royal family.
Iris wondered if she had gone crazy or if it was all real.
Maybe she was just dreaming it all, him just a ghost of her imagination and maybe he really was a demon like he claimed.
"That is very generous of you. Not many people would do what you did after the death of their husband, madam. To raise another's child as your own. You are a very kind being," said the king.
"Kind as a hungry wolf to a wounded doe." Luc appeared behind Iris and whispered in her ear.
Iris laughed. Everyone looked at her in confusion.
"Do you find anything funny, Iris?" there was suppressed anger in her stepmother's voice.
"Just voices in my head," she replied with an innocent smile.
The royal family looked horrified. The stepmother couldn't believe she had actually said that. But they tried to ignore it and sat down at the table.
"The wedding will take place on the first day of autumn, during the full moon," said the king.
"I would have married her today," said Prince Edmund. "What are we waiting for?"
"Traditions," said the queen.
"It's nice to see how she's changed you. Before you met her, you didn't want to get married at all and kept putting it off."
"Times change, Father. Love changes us."
The prince kissed the back of Anastasia's hand. She giggled. He looked deep into her eyes. Luc rolled his eyes in disgust.
"Aren't they sweet?" he grinned as if he wanted to vomit. "I must say you have terrible taste, dear Iris," he told her.
Iris had an answer on her tongue, but she held it back before she had a chance to look like crazy again. No one had seen or heard him.
The prince fed Anastasia his dessert. The mothers gushed over how their children looked together.
"You should actually thank your stepmother and stepsister for saving you from him. You two are not a good match.," Luc said. "He's too gentle for you."
"What do you know about that?"
The stepmother gave Iris a stern look.
Iris was taken aback. She said it out loud. Luckily, no one but her stepmother heard her. At least, it didn't seem like it.
"I know more about you than you think, my dear. I know every dark corner of your soul, the perversity of your desire," he whispered captivatingly in her ear. "You're wasting your time grieving for someone who can't even make you laugh."
Luc kicked the leg of the chair Anastasia was sitting on.
She fell to the ground before the piece of cake could reach her mouth.
Iris couldn't help but laugh out loud. She had to cover her mouth to stop herself.
The royal family looked at her in shock.
Her stepmother's eyes were filled with pure anger, not believing what she had just done.
"Excuse me, Your Majesties. I'd better return to my chambers."
She stood up from the table and ran away.
When she looked over her shoulder one last time, she saw Prince Edmund looking her up and down as he helped Anastasia to her feet.
She felt his gaze slide down her exposed back.
Despite the spell that controlled him, he was still just a man.
Or did he remember? Somewhere deep down?
Iris returned to her room and jumped on the bed, laughing. She didn't even know why. She simply felt laughter tickling her soul and her lips had to let it out.
"I'm glad I entertained you." Luc didn't leave her alone for a moment.
"How come they can't see you?" she wondered. "Have I gone crazy?"
"No," he replied. "They only see me if I want them to."
"Can you hide from me too?"
"That's the problem with you witches. You have a sight. There's no way we demons can hide from you. And even if I tried to, we are bonded, if you forgot. You can feel me when I'm near, even if I'm not."
He knelt in front of her. With a fleeting touch, his fingertips gently caressed her ankle.
He took off her shoe. He kissed her foot, her ankle.
He rolled up the skirt of her dress. Iris propped herself up on her elbows.
She watched as his lips slid higher and higher.
He didn't take his bewitching gaze off her as he kissed her knee, her inner thigh. A soft moan escaped her lips.
"You can't do this to me, Luc," she said, her voice filled with desire. Secretly she wanted him to continue.
He climbed onto the bed to her, his body towering over hers. He held her hands above her head, his grip firm and gentle at the same time.
"I want you to scream my name," he said.
"I'll whisper it so captivatingly that you'll never get my voice out of your head."
His eyes sparkled brightly. The gold in them suddenly came to life like a flowing river.
His lips were adorned with the smile of a predator eager for his prey.
How he was playing with her and planning to strike the final blow.
She felt his body tense, how his pride trapped in his pants grew.
He claimed her lips, Iris parting them, letting his tongue in.
With insatiable ferocity, Luc claimed her entire being.
She tore the jacket off him. She tore the shirt off him, revealing his strong muscles.
She craved his kisses, his touch. She bit his lower lip.
She felt the taste of his blood on her tongue.
A quiet growl sounded in his throat. He licked his lip.
His eyes sparkled with pleasure. She awakened a wild desire in him. He kissed her neck.
"Say you're mine, Iris," he whispered against her skin. "Say you're mine, and only mine."
And that was the moment she suddenly went cold. She couldn't be his. Not when her heart was bleeding for someone else.
And Luc noticed it. The sadness that suddenly took over her body.
"Are you still thinking about him?" he pulled away from her. "What are we going to do about it?"
Iris flipped them over. Now she was on top, sitting astride him.
"Help me break the spell," she said, gasping for breath.
"That won't be possible," he said.
"You're my demon protector. You called yourself that. You're supposed to help me," she said.
"I'm supposed to protect you, not help you steal grooms from brides," he objected.
He thought he could tell her the truth now, but her mind was still defiant. She wasn't ready yet.
"I don't want to steal him. He doesn't belong to her. He's just cursed by a spell I should never have created. I'm sure he remembers somewhere deep down."
"The spell cannot be broken, Iris. It is a curse for which there is no cure."
"What about a true love's kiss?"
Luc laughed. She truly amused him. "This is not a fairy tale, my little witch," he told her. "Even if you burned the dress, the damage was already done. And the fact that the spell worked at all means he never loved you. He may have once, but he never will again."
Iris sighed desperately. "There must be a way."
"But I don't know of any."
"Do you swear?"
"I cannot lie to you, Iris."
"And are you telling the truth? How do I know you don't just want me for yourself?"
He caressed her skin with his fingertips. He didn't take his bewitching gaze off hers.
"Of course, I want you all to myself, my dear. But I'll wait until you kiss him and the reality breaks your heart. You'll come to me yourself."
"And if I won't come?"
"You're fighting with yourself. You're fighting with your own heart. Denying the darkness that lives inside you. I'll wait until you stop and come."
"And if I won't?"
"You will."