Chapter 21: 21
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It's at that moment I realise my mouth has fallen wide open.
"Oh my sweet darling little Serena, did you not know?" he coos softly, patronising, his fingers sliding down my cheek, mouth pulling down in mock concern. "I know everything in that soft little heart of yours. Every want you try to hide. I know how much you want to dance with us. I know how often you have thought about kissing a vampire. I know all the dirty little desires that have been trapped inside your heart. Oh how you struggle! And most of all, I love how torn you are. How confused you are that no matter what I do to you, you don't find yourself running. In fact," he croons, fingers dancing low over the swell of my breasts. My heart beat rises involuntarily, and desperately I will it to stop, but it's already too late. The Scarlet Prince smirks. "I think you love it," I do not answer, I do not even dare to breathe. Now, looking at him, he is so, so much worse than I ever feared. Single handedly the prince had torn out all the parts of me I had strained to keep hidden, all my young and childish thoughts that I had never hoped to admit- not even to Ithuriel. Thought that I had tried to forget. That I had wanted to forget. My face flushes hard with embarrassment. I feel like he is seeing right through me, shattering every illusion I had tried to keep, so carelessly, so... cruelly. Of course, he wouldn't care, he probably delights in toying with me.
And yet, despite it all, I feel stupid. Stupid for thinking I had something over him. Stupid for not taking him seriously enough. Stupid for not being afraid. Stupid for not being careful. If he knew who I was, he would rip me apart in an instant. Pick out each of my organs piece by piece, listen to my screams as I bleed out onto the ground, trailing my guts round his room like some sick form of bunting. And I have seen it too, how quickly he can turn. I should be scared. I should be terrified. But the more I think and the more I search, the more I realise there is nothing there for me to feel. The fact scares me more than any vampire.
He draws closer, unsmiling, yet curious all the same. Dark hair falls between his golden eyes, framing his face with a much gentler appearance. The fire crackles, its dim glow casting hazy shadows over us both. Then he moves to lift my chin up with two bloodless fingers, his touch feather light and awfully cold, sending a quaking shiver down my body as he pushes my back against the couch. Even if I wanted to move, even if I had it in me to run, my body feels powerless against him, pinned down against the terrifying ferocity of his gaze. It's all I can do to keep my beating heart inside my chest. Another hand creeps down my arm, leaving a sticky trail of his fast drying blood. I can feel it on my skin, raising the hairs on my arm, as if even they too were repelled by its sickly presence. He smirks.
I've seen it in animals, the look on his face. The way he draws himself close, testing me, feeling for weak spots, to see if I will give and break apart like the rest of his prey. He's toying with me, seeing if I will scare. For a fleeting moment, his eyes catch mine. My face warms.
"Your heart is racing, Serena darling," he murmurs, gently now in his velvety voice, like a lover, laughing a little as he trails a delicate thumb across my lips. I don't dare pull away. All at once, his eyes soften, his face relaxes, an expression that's a mix of affection and curiosity coming over him. He tilts my head a little more. "Forgive me, my pretty thing. You see, it is such a lovely sound, your heart beat. I want to taste it, I want to feel it, to see how much it would race if I had you beneath me as I pleasure your body. It makes me want to..." He trails off, fingers brushing over my neck, down, lower, over the swell of my breasts. He stops. I hold back a soft groan.
Vampires are impulsive creatures on the best of days, who enjoy toying with their prey as much as they do killing them. They are just as hedonistic and sensual as they are deadly. But nothing, nothing, could prepare me for how his touch feels against me. And I hate it, because it made him right about everything he told me. It made this cruel, wicked vampire right.
I don't want this. I think stubbornly to myself.
"Oh, what's this? Falling apart so soon? Come now, where is that plucky little thing who dared me to kill her moments ago?" He smiles, widely, cruelly, and raises his hand with a short, gravelly laugh. A shock wave of rage hits me so hard that for a moment every logical thought flies right out of my head. I flash him a furious look, ball up my fist, draw back, and punch a hand into his chest. It's like hitting a rock of granite. I try not to let him see my wince.
"There. Are you happy now?" I seeth through my teeth, rubbing my wrist, not quite sure why I am even entertaining anything he says. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, charming in the way a hedonistic vampire might be.
"Yes, thank you." His face draws close to mine, so close I can smell the sweet scent of rose that clings to his clothes, mixed with the tang of his own blood. It reminds me of something, a distant memory, or perhaps a dream. He lingers for a moment, waiting to see if I will push him away again, perhaps swing for another punch. Part of me thinks I might. Control yourself Serena, punching him won't get him to like you. I force my head to the side, away from him, drawing my arms tightly around my body.
"Serena, Serena, Serena." he muses with a laugh, teeth flashing. "You're awfully dangerous," but he doesn't push me any further, his hands lingering by my sides, backing up a little. I try not to look at him, to not let him see the redness that has creeped onto my face. But it's hard to ignore his eyes, hooded with lust, twinkling. I frown.
I know, I want to say, but no sound escapes my lips.
At once he takes me into his arms, soft and wary, his hands looping around my body, drawing me in. I feel the locks of his dark hair drifting over my face as he stoops to press his chin on the top of my head, hair like little feathers cascading down my cheek. For a second I think he might be done, tired of teasing me, and my shoulders relax. A bad move. I don't even realise that in that moment he has moved to sit me down on one of the couches. My whole body seems to glow red with embarrassment at precisely where he has put me. I swear softly.
"Um," I mumble dumbly, hiding my face in my sleeves. All at once I hate him more than I ever. Hedonistic bastard vampire. I had wanted to manipulate Soren, sure, but I hadn't expected he would take it this far to try and manipulate me. In hindsight, it was foolish of me to think otherwise, he is the Scarlet Prince, if he wants something, he only needs to take it. I gulp. He pulls back, laughing a little as he prizes my arms gently down from my face, pressing my wrists to my sides. A small growl rips from my throat, and I find myself half debating sticking out my tongue like a petty child at an adult.
Stupid vampires and their stupid games, I think bitterly. But Soren doesn't seem to care.
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It's at that moment I realise my mouth has fallen wide open.
"Oh my sweet darling little Serena, did you not know?" he coos softly, patronising, his fingers sliding down my cheek, mouth pulling down in mock concern. "I know everything in that soft little heart of yours. Every want you try to hide. I know how much you want to dance with us. I know how often you have thought about kissing a vampire. I know all the dirty little desires that have been trapped inside your heart. Oh how you struggle! And most of all, I love how torn you are. How confused you are that no matter what I do to you, you don't find yourself running. In fact," he croons, fingers dancing low over the swell of my breasts. My heart beat rises involuntarily, and desperately I will it to stop, but it's already too late. The Scarlet Prince smirks. "I think you love it," I do not answer, I do not even dare to breathe. Now, looking at him, he is so, so much worse than I ever feared. Single handedly the prince had torn out all the parts of me I had strained to keep hidden, all my young and childish thoughts that I had never hoped to admit- not even to Ithuriel. Thought that I had tried to forget. That I had wanted to forget. My face flushes hard with embarrassment. I feel like he is seeing right through me, shattering every illusion I had tried to keep, so carelessly, so... cruelly. Of course, he wouldn't care, he probably delights in toying with me.
And yet, despite it all, I feel stupid. Stupid for thinking I had something over him. Stupid for not taking him seriously enough. Stupid for not being afraid. Stupid for not being careful. If he knew who I was, he would rip me apart in an instant. Pick out each of my organs piece by piece, listen to my screams as I bleed out onto the ground, trailing my guts round his room like some sick form of bunting. And I have seen it too, how quickly he can turn. I should be scared. I should be terrified. But the more I think and the more I search, the more I realise there is nothing there for me to feel. The fact scares me more than any vampire.
He draws closer, unsmiling, yet curious all the same. Dark hair falls between his golden eyes, framing his face with a much gentler appearance. The fire crackles, its dim glow casting hazy shadows over us both. Then he moves to lift my chin up with two bloodless fingers, his touch feather light and awfully cold, sending a quaking shiver down my body as he pushes my back against the couch. Even if I wanted to move, even if I had it in me to run, my body feels powerless against him, pinned down against the terrifying ferocity of his gaze. It's all I can do to keep my beating heart inside my chest. Another hand creeps down my arm, leaving a sticky trail of his fast drying blood. I can feel it on my skin, raising the hairs on my arm, as if even they too were repelled by its sickly presence. He smirks.
I've seen it in animals, the look on his face. The way he draws himself close, testing me, feeling for weak spots, to see if I will give and break apart like the rest of his prey. He's toying with me, seeing if I will scare. For a fleeting moment, his eyes catch mine. My face warms.
"Your heart is racing, Serena darling," he murmurs, gently now in his velvety voice, like a lover, laughing a little as he trails a delicate thumb across my lips. I don't dare pull away. All at once, his eyes soften, his face relaxes, an expression that's a mix of affection and curiosity coming over him. He tilts my head a little more. "Forgive me, my pretty thing. You see, it is such a lovely sound, your heart beat. I want to taste it, I want to feel it, to see how much it would race if I had you beneath me as I pleasure your body. It makes me want to..." He trails off, fingers brushing over my neck, down, lower, over the swell of my breasts. He stops. I hold back a soft groan.
Vampires are impulsive creatures on the best of days, who enjoy toying with their prey as much as they do killing them. They are just as hedonistic and sensual as they are deadly. But nothing, nothing, could prepare me for how his touch feels against me. And I hate it, because it made him right about everything he told me. It made this cruel, wicked vampire right.
I don't want this. I think stubbornly to myself.
"Oh, what's this? Falling apart so soon? Come now, where is that plucky little thing who dared me to kill her moments ago?" He smiles, widely, cruelly, and raises his hand with a short, gravelly laugh. A shock wave of rage hits me so hard that for a moment every logical thought flies right out of my head. I flash him a furious look, ball up my fist, draw back, and punch a hand into his chest. It's like hitting a rock of granite. I try not to let him see my wince.
"There. Are you happy now?" I seeth through my teeth, rubbing my wrist, not quite sure why I am even entertaining anything he says. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, charming in the way a hedonistic vampire might be.
"Yes, thank you." His face draws close to mine, so close I can smell the sweet scent of rose that clings to his clothes, mixed with the tang of his own blood. It reminds me of something, a distant memory, or perhaps a dream. He lingers for a moment, waiting to see if I will push him away again, perhaps swing for another punch. Part of me thinks I might. Control yourself Serena, punching him won't get him to like you. I force my head to the side, away from him, drawing my arms tightly around my body.
"Serena, Serena, Serena." he muses with a laugh, teeth flashing. "You're awfully dangerous," but he doesn't push me any further, his hands lingering by my sides, backing up a little. I try not to look at him, to not let him see the redness that has creeped onto my face. But it's hard to ignore his eyes, hooded with lust, twinkling. I frown.
I know, I want to say, but no sound escapes my lips.
At once he takes me into his arms, soft and wary, his hands looping around my body, drawing me in. I feel the locks of his dark hair drifting over my face as he stoops to press his chin on the top of my head, hair like little feathers cascading down my cheek. For a second I think he might be done, tired of teasing me, and my shoulders relax. A bad move. I don't even realise that in that moment he has moved to sit me down on one of the couches. My whole body seems to glow red with embarrassment at precisely where he has put me. I swear softly.
"Um," I mumble dumbly, hiding my face in my sleeves. All at once I hate him more than I ever. Hedonistic bastard vampire. I had wanted to manipulate Soren, sure, but I hadn't expected he would take it this far to try and manipulate me. In hindsight, it was foolish of me to think otherwise, he is the Scarlet Prince, if he wants something, he only needs to take it. I gulp. He pulls back, laughing a little as he prizes my arms gently down from my face, pressing my wrists to my sides. A small growl rips from my throat, and I find myself half debating sticking out my tongue like a petty child at an adult.
Stupid vampires and their stupid games, I think bitterly. But Soren doesn't seem to care.
It's at that moment I realise my mouth has fallen wide open. "Oh my sweet darling little Serena, did you not know?" he coos softly, patronising, his fingers sliding down my cheek, mouth pulling down in mock concern. "I know everything in that soft little heart of yours. Every want you try to hide. I know how much you want to dance with us. I know how often you have thought about kissing a vampire. I know all the dirty little desires that have been trapped inside your heart. Oh how you struggle! And most of all, I love how torn you are. How confused you are that no matter what I do to you, you don't find yourself running. In fact," he croons, fingers dancing low over the swell of my breasts. My heart beat rises involuntarily, and desperately I will it to stop, but it's already too late. The Scarlet Prince smirks. "I think you love it," I do not answer, I do not even dare to breathe. Now, looking at him, he is so, so much worse than I ever feared. Single handedly the prince had torn out all the parts of me I had strained to keep hidden, all my young and childish thoughts that I had never hoped to admit- not even to Ithuriel. Thought that I had tried to forget. That I had wanted to forget. My face flushes hard with embarrassment. I feel like he is seeing right through me, shattering every illusion I had tried to keep, so carelessly, so... cruelly. Of course, he wouldn't care, he probably delights in toying with me. And yet, despite it all, I feel stupid. Stupid for thinking I had something over him. Stupid for not taking him seriously enough. Stupid for not being afraid. Stupid for not being careful. If he knew who I was, he would rip me apart in an instant. Pick out each of my organs piece by piece, listen to my screams as I bleed out onto the ground, trailing my guts round his room like some sick form of bunting. And I have seen it too, how quickly he can turn. I should be scared. I should be terrified. But the more I think and the more I search, the more I realise there is nothing there for me to feel. The fact scares me more than any vampire. He draws closer, unsmiling, yet curious all the same. Dark hair falls between his golden eyes, framing his face with a much gentler appearance. The fire crackles, its dim glow casting hazy shadows over us both. Then he moves to lift my chin up with two bloodless fingers, his touch feather light and awfully cold, sending a quaking shiver down my body as he pushes my back against the couch. Even if I wanted to move, even if I had it in me to run, my body feels powerless against him, pinned down against the terrifying ferocity of his gaze. It's all I can do to keep my beating heart inside my chest. Another hand creeps down my arm, leaving a sticky trail of his fast drying blood. I can feel it on my skin, raising the hairs on my arm, as if even they too were repelled by its sickly presence. He smirks. I've seen it in animals, the look on his face. The way he draws himself close, testing me, feeling for weak spots, to see if I will give and break apart like the rest of his prey. He's toying with me, seeing if I will scare. For a fleeting moment, his eyes catch mine. My face warms. "Your heart is racing, Serena darling," he murmurs, gently now in his velvety voice, like a lover, laughing a little as he trails a delicate thumb across my lips. I don't dare pull away. All at once, his eyes soften, his face relaxes, an expression that's a mix of affection and curiosity coming over him. He tilts my head a little more. "Forgive me, my pretty thing. You see, it is such a lovely sound, your heart beat. I want to taste it, I want to feel it, to see how much it would race if I had you beneath me as I pleasure your body. It makes me want to..." He trails off, fingers brushing over my neck, down, lower, over the swell of my breasts. He stops. I hold back a soft groan. Vampires are impulsive creatures on the best of days, who enjoy toying with their prey as much as they do killing them. They are just as hedonistic and sensual as they are deadly. But nothing, nothing, could prepare me for how his touch feels against me. And I hate it, because it made him right about everything he told me. It made this cruel, wicked vampire right. I don't want this. I think stubbornly to myself. "Oh, what's this? Falling apart so soon? Come now, where is that plucky little thing who dared me to kill her moments ago?" He smiles, widely, cruelly, and raises his hand with a short, gravelly laugh. A shock wave of rage hits me so hard that for a moment every logical thought flies right out of my head. I flash him a furious look, ball up my fist, draw back, and punch a hand into his chest. It's like hitting a rock of granite. I try not to let him see my wince. "There. Are you happy now?" I seeth through my teeth, rubbing my wrist, not quite sure why I am even entertaining anything he says. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, charming in the way a hedonistic vampire might be. "Yes, thank you." His face draws close to mine, so close I can smell the sweet scent of rose that clings to his clothes, mixed with the tang of his own blood. It reminds me of something, a distant memory, or perhaps a dream. He lingers for a moment, waiting to see if I will push him away again, perhaps swing for another punch. Part of me thinks I might. Control yourself Serena, punching him won't get him to like you. I force my head to the side, away from him, drawing my arms tightly around my body. "Serena, Serena, Serena." he muses with a laugh, teeth flashing. "You're awfully dangerous," but he doesn't push me any further, his hands lingering by my sides, backing up a little. I try not to look at him, to not let him see the redness that has creeped onto my face. But it's hard to ignore his eyes, hooded with lust, twinkling. I frown. I know, I want to say, but no sound escapes my lips. At once he takes me into his arms, soft and wary, his hands looping around my body, drawing me in. I feel the locks of his dark hair drifting over my face as he stoops to press his chin on the top of my head, hair like little feathers cascading down my cheek. For a second I think he might be done, tired of teasing me, and my shoulders relax. A bad move. I don't even realise that in that moment he has moved to sit me down on one of the couches. My whole body seems to glow red with embarrassment at precisely where he has put me. I swear softly. "Um," I mumble dumbly, hiding my face in my sleeves. All at once I hate him more than I ever. Hedonistic bastard vampire. I had wanted to manipulate Soren, sure, but I hadn't expected he would take it this far to try and manipulate me. In hindsight, it was foolish of me to think otherwise, he is the Scarlet Prince, if he wants something, he only needs to take it. I gulp. He pulls back, laughing a little as he prizes my arms gently down from my face, pressing my wrists to my sides. A small growl rips from my throat, and I find myself half debating sticking out my tongue like a petty child at an adult. Stupid vampires and their stupid games, I think bitterly. But Soren doesn't seem to care.
