Chapter 32: 32
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"How are you feeling?" he asks suddenly, tilting his head, as though he isn't fully sure he should be asking the question himself. My head shoots up in surprise. His tone has dropped, back into the low, velvety hum, and I almost find myself leaning towards it to let its sweet caress soak through my skin. But, I think, pulling back a little, a vampire shouldn't be asking such things at all. In fact, a vampire caring for anyone's feelings, other than perhaps themselves, is an event rarer than seeing a wizard without their walking stick. That is to say- rare.
"I didn't think the Scarlet Prince cared about such things," I reply sharply, catching his gaze with mine, holding it firmly. Soren tilts his head slightly, watching me through amber eyes, his lips parted and eyes hooded. Steadily, he leans further back against the doorframe and begins to pick at his nails idly. The picture of nonchalance.
"I don't. But that doesn't mean I cannot be amiable when I so choose. Lest you forget when I saw you last I hadn't fed in days, and I certainly was a lot less bothered with niceties than I am now. And I would be much assured to know that my brother didn't lay his filthy hands on you, nor any one of the vampires of my court since I strictly decreed them not to do so. So tell me, how are you feeling?"
"Fine." I mutter, giving a tight-lipped smile, not giving him the satisfaction of a long answer, or let him see how truly shaken I had been after the whole ordeal. If he saw me as weak, then I became easy prey- and that is something I wouldn't let myself fall into in a million years. Or perhaps he would lose interest, and I would become a bore, like the other stagnant creatures who roamed his court lusting for blood, and for death. No, I couldn't let him lose interest either. Best keep him on his toes. Soren's lips upturn in a half smile, the points of his fangs glinting against his red lips as he goes to place a hand on my forearm, trailing his fingers down until he clutches my hand in his. His touch is hesitant, testing to see if I will pull away. I don't.
"Good," he purrs, and I wonder for a second if he can see right through me. "But that does not negate all I said, either," he smirks, drawing up a hand to now prod softly into my chest, his cold touch seeping through my nightgown, clawed finger drawing up the fabric that lingers over my heart. It takes me a moment to realise what he is referring to. My mind draws back to those silky smooth words he had uttered to me as he toyed with me, seeing how far he could push me before I broke my cool. A shiver spider-walks down my spine.
"I know all your darkest desires..."
Instantly I shut out the memory, locking it in the black depths of his mind.
"So what exactly have you come here to do? Didn't you have a whole line of females grasping for your attention?" I sigh a little more confidently now, solemnly drawing my gaze away, not in the mood for any more games at such a late hour. He cocks an eyebrow.
"Well, actually I came to make... amends, but if you would rather I not, I can leave," he grins at me wickedly, eyes sparkling as he brushes an invisible piece of dust off the hem of his beautifully embroidered clothes. The way he says 'amends' is peculiar, as if testing the words in his mouth like they don't sit quite right on his tongue, a foreign object of sorts. I get the feeling he hasn't used such a word for a long time. He shifts a little closer to me, and its hard not to notice the muscles ripple faintly under his sturdy form. He catches me looking, and I jerk my head away, suddenly very interested in a painting on the other side of the hallway. I remain wilfully silent, waiting for him to continue. A ragged sigh escapes his red lips.
"As much as I enjoyed hearing your heart flutter from teasing, little dove, three days of thought and generous feeding have brought back my… better senses. That and I would rather not have you avoiding me at all costs, that would be no fun, would it?" he admits, waving a careless hand in the air dismissively, as if warding off any questions I might shoot at him.
Feeding. That's where he has been. I fold my arms over my chest, willing him to continue. "So. I suppose I shall do my very best not to bite you from now on, since you are, after all, quite an exquisite little morsel and I would not wish to ruin you," and then he adds teasingly, his breath kissing the shell of my ear "Unless you want me too," A shudder convulses through my body at his words, low and seductive in my ear. His finger tips are hovering around my waist now, brushing up against the tight folds of my nightgown, cold and feather light. I don't need to look at his face to know he is smiling. Tease.
"That was an awful apology, you know," I grumble at him, twisting myself away as he pulls himself back, rightening his waistcoat and neatly trimmed collar. He barks a soft laugh.
"So honest, but either way, I don't much care," he sighs languorously, but there is something in his tone that makes me think no one had ever had the nerve to even try to tell him that to his face before- rightly so, it probably would get them killed. In fact, he sounds downright surprised.
"And what of those other women, shouldn't you be apologising to them too? Perhaps for not biting them?" I say snarkily, stepping out of my room and shutting the door behind me, warding against Ithuriel's listening ears, not sure why I am even bothering to ask. He is the Scarlet Prince, he does as he likes. And if he wants to be surrounded by pretty women while choosing a mate, fine, so be it, I couldn't care anyway.
"Is my darling Serena jealous?" he whispers softly, and suddenly, he is right behind me, breath pressing into my ear as I start. I make to snarl a remark at him but his lips against the soft skin of my neck stops me short, and I freeze, body rigid, cocooned against him like a fly in a spider's embrace. My heart pounds against my ribs, and the necklace on my chest runs cold.
He could kill me, I think to myself, sweat forming at the base of my spine. He could kill me on the spot. At long last he speaks.
"I assure you little dove, they do not interest me one bit," he murmurs, words vibrating through my skin, causing my knees to give slightly from underneath me as he slyly snakes his lips down to the joint between my neck and shoulders. He smirks, hands grasping my shoulders, pretty gold and ruby rings gleaming, poised perhaps to bite me, or scare me into thinking he might. The empty promise that he won't means nothing to me. He would bite me, if he wanted to. Not that I would let him. "Did I not already tell you that it was you who intrigued me? Perhaps you would prefer proof of my intrigue…" he trails off suggestively, a hand working its way over my hip, his long fingers travelling lower towards the hem of my nightgown. I do not stick around long enough to find out what 'proof' he is referring to. I shoot away. Hedonistic bastard.
"I am good, thank you," I say curtly, giving him a firm stare as I tuck my arms around myself, pressing my back into the opposite end of the hallway. Soren stands in place for a second, staring, and its almost as if I can see the cogs working in his brain, clicking into place. He studies me across the room, a slight frown twitching on his lips, brows furrowed in a way that- had he not been a vampire, may almost have been considered cute. The look is there for a second, and then… nothing. I eye him suspiciously.
"You didn't come here just to apologise, did you?" I prod, narrowing my eyes at him. He returns my gaze with hooded eyes, sooty lashes pressing against his cheek. Then he begins toying with his gold rings again, and sighs.
"Clever girl. Yes, actually, I came to offer you something." Offer me something? I ponder silently to myself, wondering what sort of bribery he is going to pull on me. As if in answer to my silent question, he spreads his hands wide, revealing a rippling tremor of muscle spiralling through his forearm. "A dress, for ruining your other one. And," he adds, straightening himself, an invisible breeze wafting his hair past his sizable horns. "To invite you to the masquerade as my partner," I stop dead. The Scarlet Prince is inviting me to the masquerade. With him. I hadn't even had to say anything. Didn't have to beg him to go with me, to flirt with him as I had briefly when we first met. I hadn't done anything and yet he had asked. The Scarlet Prince had just asked me to go to a masquerade. My heart leaps.
"You've literally met me twice, I am sure there are plenty of vampires out there who you'd be better off going with," I tell him slowly, trying to hide the amazement that is plastered over my face. The Prince lowers his eyes, mouth twitching into a snarl as he says:
"I am not asking them, I am asking you. If I had wanted to ask one of them I would have done, but they only serve to bore me.. You, on the other hand, are a much more exciting prospect, little dove. So tell me, are you coming?"
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"How are you feeling?" he asks suddenly, tilting his head, as though he isn't fully sure he should be asking the question himself. My head shoots up in surprise. His tone has dropped, back into the low, velvety hum, and I almost find myself leaning towards it to let its sweet caress soak through my skin. But, I think, pulling back a little, a vampire shouldn't be asking such things at all. In fact, a vampire caring for anyone's feelings, other than perhaps themselves, is an event rarer than seeing a wizard without their walking stick. That is to say- rare.
"I didn't think the Scarlet Prince cared about such things," I reply sharply, catching his gaze with mine, holding it firmly. Soren tilts his head slightly, watching me through amber eyes, his lips parted and eyes hooded. Steadily, he leans further back against the doorframe and begins to pick at his nails idly. The picture of nonchalance.
"I don't. But that doesn't mean I cannot be amiable when I so choose. Lest you forget when I saw you last I hadn't fed in days, and I certainly was a lot less bothered with niceties than I am now. And I would be much assured to know that my brother didn't lay his filthy hands on you, nor any one of the vampires of my court since I strictly decreed them not to do so. So tell me, how are you feeling?"
"Fine." I mutter, giving a tight-lipped smile, not giving him the satisfaction of a long answer, or let him see how truly shaken I had been after the whole ordeal. If he saw me as weak, then I became easy prey- and that is something I wouldn't let myself fall into in a million years. Or perhaps he would lose interest, and I would become a bore, like the other stagnant creatures who roamed his court lusting for blood, and for death. No, I couldn't let him lose interest either. Best keep him on his toes. Soren's lips upturn in a half smile, the points of his fangs glinting against his red lips as he goes to place a hand on my forearm, trailing his fingers down until he clutches my hand in his. His touch is hesitant, testing to see if I will pull away. I don't.
"Good," he purrs, and I wonder for a second if he can see right through me. "But that does not negate all I said, either," he smirks, drawing up a hand to now prod softly into my chest, his cold touch seeping through my nightgown, clawed finger drawing up the fabric that lingers over my heart. It takes me a moment to realise what he is referring to. My mind draws back to those silky smooth words he had uttered to me as he toyed with me, seeing how far he could push me before I broke my cool. A shiver spider-walks down my spine.
"I know all your darkest desires..."
Instantly I shut out the memory, locking it in the black depths of his mind.
"So what exactly have you come here to do? Didn't you have a whole line of females grasping for your attention?" I sigh a little more confidently now, solemnly drawing my gaze away, not in the mood for any more games at such a late hour. He cocks an eyebrow.
"Well, actually I came to make... amends, but if you would rather I not, I can leave," he grins at me wickedly, eyes sparkling as he brushes an invisible piece of dust off the hem of his beautifully embroidered clothes. The way he says 'amends' is peculiar, as if testing the words in his mouth like they don't sit quite right on his tongue, a foreign object of sorts. I get the feeling he hasn't used such a word for a long time. He shifts a little closer to me, and its hard not to notice the muscles ripple faintly under his sturdy form. He catches me looking, and I jerk my head away, suddenly very interested in a painting on the other side of the hallway. I remain wilfully silent, waiting for him to continue. A ragged sigh escapes his red lips.
"As much as I enjoyed hearing your heart flutter from teasing, little dove, three days of thought and generous feeding have brought back my… better senses. That and I would rather not have you avoiding me at all costs, that would be no fun, would it?" he admits, waving a careless hand in the air dismissively, as if warding off any questions I might shoot at him.
Feeding. That's where he has been. I fold my arms over my chest, willing him to continue. "So. I suppose I shall do my very best not to bite you from now on, since you are, after all, quite an exquisite little morsel and I would not wish to ruin you," and then he adds teasingly, his breath kissing the shell of my ear "Unless you want me too," A shudder convulses through my body at his words, low and seductive in my ear. His finger tips are hovering around my waist now, brushing up against the tight folds of my nightgown, cold and feather light. I don't need to look at his face to know he is smiling. Tease.
"That was an awful apology, you know," I grumble at him, twisting myself away as he pulls himself back, rightening his waistcoat and neatly trimmed collar. He barks a soft laugh.
"So honest, but either way, I don't much care," he sighs languorously, but there is something in his tone that makes me think no one had ever had the nerve to even try to tell him that to his face before- rightly so, it probably would get them killed. In fact, he sounds downright surprised.
"And what of those other women, shouldn't you be apologising to them too? Perhaps for not biting them?" I say snarkily, stepping out of my room and shutting the door behind me, warding against Ithuriel's listening ears, not sure why I am even bothering to ask. He is the Scarlet Prince, he does as he likes. And if he wants to be surrounded by pretty women while choosing a mate, fine, so be it, I couldn't care anyway.
"Is my darling Serena jealous?" he whispers softly, and suddenly, he is right behind me, breath pressing into my ear as I start. I make to snarl a remark at him but his lips against the soft skin of my neck stops me short, and I freeze, body rigid, cocooned against him like a fly in a spider's embrace. My heart pounds against my ribs, and the necklace on my chest runs cold.
He could kill me, I think to myself, sweat forming at the base of my spine. He could kill me on the spot. At long last he speaks.
"I assure you little dove, they do not interest me one bit," he murmurs, words vibrating through my skin, causing my knees to give slightly from underneath me as he slyly snakes his lips down to the joint between my neck and shoulders. He smirks, hands grasping my shoulders, pretty gold and ruby rings gleaming, poised perhaps to bite me, or scare me into thinking he might. The empty promise that he won't means nothing to me. He would bite me, if he wanted to. Not that I would let him. "Did I not already tell you that it was you who intrigued me? Perhaps you would prefer proof of my intrigue…" he trails off suggestively, a hand working its way over my hip, his long fingers travelling lower towards the hem of my nightgown. I do not stick around long enough to find out what 'proof' he is referring to. I shoot away. Hedonistic bastard.
"I am good, thank you," I say curtly, giving him a firm stare as I tuck my arms around myself, pressing my back into the opposite end of the hallway. Soren stands in place for a second, staring, and its almost as if I can see the cogs working in his brain, clicking into place. He studies me across the room, a slight frown twitching on his lips, brows furrowed in a way that- had he not been a vampire, may almost have been considered cute. The look is there for a second, and then… nothing. I eye him suspiciously.
"You didn't come here just to apologise, did you?" I prod, narrowing my eyes at him. He returns my gaze with hooded eyes, sooty lashes pressing against his cheek. Then he begins toying with his gold rings again, and sighs.
"Clever girl. Yes, actually, I came to offer you something." Offer me something? I ponder silently to myself, wondering what sort of bribery he is going to pull on me. As if in answer to my silent question, he spreads his hands wide, revealing a rippling tremor of muscle spiralling through his forearm. "A dress, for ruining your other one. And," he adds, straightening himself, an invisible breeze wafting his hair past his sizable horns. "To invite you to the masquerade as my partner," I stop dead. The Scarlet Prince is inviting me to the masquerade. With him. I hadn't even had to say anything. Didn't have to beg him to go with me, to flirt with him as I had briefly when we first met. I hadn't done anything and yet he had asked. The Scarlet Prince had just asked me to go to a masquerade. My heart leaps.
"You've literally met me twice, I am sure there are plenty of vampires out there who you'd be better off going with," I tell him slowly, trying to hide the amazement that is plastered over my face. The Prince lowers his eyes, mouth twitching into a snarl as he says:
"I am not asking them, I am asking you. If I had wanted to ask one of them I would have done, but they only serve to bore me.. You, on the other hand, are a much more exciting prospect, little dove. So tell me, are you coming?"
"How are you feeling?" he asks suddenly, tilting his head, as though he isn't fully sure he should be asking the question himself. My head shoots up in surprise. His tone has dropped, back into the low, velvety hum, and I almost find myself leaning towards it to let its sweet caress soak through my skin. But, I think, pulling back a little, a vampire shouldn't be asking such things at all. In fact, a vampire caring for anyone's feelings, other than perhaps themselves, is an event rarer than seeing a wizard without their walking stick. That is to say- rare. "I didn't think the Scarlet Prince cared about such things," I reply sharply, catching his gaze with mine, holding it firmly. Soren tilts his head slightly, watching me through amber eyes, his lips parted and eyes hooded. Steadily, he leans further back against the doorframe and begins to pick at his nails idly. The picture of nonchalance. "I don't. But that doesn't mean I cannot be amiable when I so choose. Lest you forget when I saw you last I hadn't fed in days, and I certainly was a lot less bothered with niceties than I am now. And I would be much assured to know that my brother didn't lay his filthy hands on you, nor any one of the vampires of my court since I strictly decreed them not to do so. So tell me, how are you feeling?" "Fine." I mutter, giving a tight-lipped smile, not giving him the satisfaction of a long answer, or let him see how truly shaken I had been after the whole ordeal. If he saw me as weak, then I became easy prey- and that is something I wouldn't let myself fall into in a million years. Or perhaps he would lose interest, and I would become a bore, like the other stagnant creatures who roamed his court lusting for blood, and for death. No, I couldn't let him lose interest either. Best keep him on his toes. Soren's lips upturn in a half smile, the points of his fangs glinting against his red lips as he goes to place a hand on my forearm, trailing his fingers down until he clutches my hand in his. His touch is hesitant, testing to see if I will pull away. I don't. "Good," he purrs, and I wonder for a second if he can see right through me. "But that does not negate all I said, either," he smirks, drawing up a hand to now prod softly into my chest, his cold touch seeping through my nightgown, clawed finger drawing up the fabric that lingers over my heart. It takes me a moment to realise what he is referring to. My mind draws back to those silky smooth words he had uttered to me as he toyed with me, seeing how far he could push me before I broke my cool. A shiver spider-walks down my spine. "I know all your darkest desires..." Instantly I shut out the memory, locking it in the black depths of his mind. "So what exactly have you come here to do? Didn't you have a whole line of females grasping for your attention?" I sigh a little more confidently now, solemnly drawing my gaze away, not in the mood for any more games at such a late hour. He cocks an eyebrow. "Well, actually I came to make... amends, but if you would rather I not, I can leave," he grins at me wickedly, eyes sparkling as he brushes an invisible piece of dust off the hem of his beautifully embroidered clothes. The way he says 'amends' is peculiar, as if testing the words in his mouth like they don't sit quite right on his tongue, a foreign object of sorts. I get the feeling he hasn't used such a word for a long time. He shifts a little closer to me, and its hard not to notice the muscles ripple faintly under his sturdy form. He catches me looking, and I jerk my head away, suddenly very interested in a painting on the other side of the hallway. I remain wilfully silent, waiting for him to continue. A ragged sigh escapes his red lips. "As much as I enjoyed hearing your heart flutter from teasing, little dove, three days of thought and generous feeding have brought back my better senses. That and I would rather not have you avoiding me at all costs, that would be no fun, would it?" he admits, waving a careless hand in the air dismissively, as if warding off any questions I might shoot at him. Feeding. That's where he has been. I fold my arms over my chest, willing him to continue. "So. I suppose I shall do my very best not to bite you from now on, since you are, after all, quite an exquisite little morsel and I would not wish to ruin you," and then he adds teasingly, his breath kissing the shell of my ear "Unless you want me too," A shudder convulses through my body at his words, low and seductive in my ear. His finger tips are hovering around my waist now, brushing up against the tight folds of my nightgown, cold and feather light. I don't need to look at his face to know he is smiling. Tease. "That was an awful apology, you know," I grumble at him, twisting myself away as he pulls himself back, rightening his waistcoat and neatly trimmed collar. He barks a soft laugh. "So honest, but either way, I don't much care," he sighs languorously, but there is something in his tone that makes me think no one had ever had the nerve to even try to tell him that to his face before- rightly so, it probably would get them killed. In fact, he sounds downright surprised. "And what of those other women, shouldn't you be apologising to them too? Perhaps for not biting them?" I say snarkily, stepping out of my room and shutting the door behind me, warding against Ithuriel's listening ears, not sure why I am even bothering to ask. He is the Scarlet Prince, he does as he likes. And if he wants to be surrounded by pretty women while choosing a mate, fine, so be it, I couldn't care anyway. "Is my darling Serena jealous?" he whispers softly, and suddenly, he is right behind me, breath pressing into my ear as I start. I make to snarl a remark at him but his lips against the soft skin of my neck stops me short, and I freeze, body rigid, cocooned against him like a fly in a spider's embrace. My heart pounds against my ribs, and the necklace on my chest runs cold. He could kill me, I think to myself, sweat forming at the base of my spine. He could kill me on the spot. At long last he speaks. "I assure you little dove, they do not interest me one bit," he murmurs, words vibrating through my skin, causing my knees to give slightly from underneath me as he slyly snakes his lips down to the joint between my neck and shoulders. He smirks, hands grasping my shoulders, pretty gold and ruby rings gleaming, poised perhaps to bite me, or scare me into thinking he might. The empty promise that he won't means nothing to me. He would bite me, if he wanted to. Not that I would let him. "Did I not already tell you that it was you who intrigued me? Perhaps you would prefer proof of my intrigue" he trails off suggestively, a hand working its way over my hip, his long fingers travelling lower towards the hem of my nightgown. I do not stick around long enough to find out what 'proof' he is referring to. I shoot away. Hedonistic bastard. "I am good, thank you," I say curtly, giving him a firm stare as I tuck my arms around myself, pressing my back into the opposite end of the hallway. Soren stands in place for a second, staring, and its almost as if I can see the cogs working in his brain, clicking into place. He studies me across the room, a slight frown twitching on his lips, brows furrowed in a way that- had he not been a vampire, may almost have been considered cute. The look is there for a second, and then nothing. I eye him suspiciously. "You didn't come here just to apologise, did you?" I prod, narrowing my eyes at him. He returns my gaze with hooded eyes, sooty lashes pressing against his cheek. Then he begins toying with his gold rings again, and sighs. "Clever girl. Yes, actually, I came to offer you something." Offer me something? I ponder silently to myself, wondering what sort of bribery he is going to pull on me. As if in answer to my silent question, he spreads his hands wide, revealing a rippling tremor of muscle spiralling through his forearm. "A dress, for ruining your other one. And," he adds, straightening himself, an invisible breeze wafting his hair past his sizable horns. "To invite you to the masquerade as my partner," I stop dead. The Scarlet Prince is inviting me to the masquerade. With him. I hadn't even had to say anything. Didn't have to beg him to go with me, to flirt with him as I had briefly when we first met. I hadn't done anything and yet he had asked. The Scarlet Prince had just asked me to go to a masquerade. My heart leaps. "You've literally met me twice, I am sure there are plenty of vampires out there who you'd be better off going with," I tell him slowly, trying to hide the amazement that is plastered over my face. The Prince lowers his eyes, mouth twitching into a snarl as he says: "I am not asking them, I am asking you. If I had wanted to ask one of them I would have done, but they only serve to bore me.. You, on the other hand, are a much more exciting prospect, little dove. So tell me, are you coming?"
