Chapter 34: 34
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And I do. I really do. The soft fabric is comfortable, tightly drawn in at the places a female might want to show off, breaking away at the deep plunging v-neckline, which is covered by the same sheer fabric that makes up the sleeves. The rest of the dress flows out from the waist, airy and light, not too puffy but with enough volume that any prying vampire would probably stay an arms length away if only to avoid getting caught in the reams of crimson fabric. It compliments the beautiful swirls of the blood necklace so perfectly that I might have thought he had it tailored especially for me- might have if he wasn't the Scarlet Prince who happens to lust for my blood.
Soren's eyes simmer a hazy gold, his face soft and thoughtful, and in that one, solitary moment, I look at the gentle fondness on his face and forget he is a monster at all.
"I think you look beautiful," he says in response to the question I hadn't fulfilled with an answer, curling two clawed fingers around the stray ringlets of my hair. My heart skips a beat. Traitor, I think to it.
"Like that's supposed to convince me," I snort, trying my best to keep my heart from rocketing again, like it did three days ago, wrinkling my nose and struggling to bury its rising flutters. I press a finger to his chest accusingly, a drunken smirk rising on my face. "How many women have you said that to? 20? 100?" All those women around your throne, I add silently. Soren frowns- actually frowns, as though accused of some treacherous crime.
"You want me to deny the fact I find you attractive?" As soon as the words leave his lips my face drops, and I take a step back. So bold, yet the tone of his voice has dropped, serious, as he tilts his head to look at me, questioning, searching. It is almost as though he is daring me to tell him otherwise, to deny him his opinion, and see what would happen as a consequence. Yet is is obvious what he wants me to do. The tap of his foot is willing me to answer, pushing me to speak as he studies me with those curious golden eyes.
Well? A voice in my mind purrs that is not my own. I ignore it, and that flawless frown deepens. It isn't like I hadn't been called beautiful before- it isn't like I had been much either. The angels of Illistrae had tended to avoid complimenting me, lest it be wrongly taken as advances upon their queen, and punished by the council. The council had always been strict with controlling access to my company, and so although I knew most of the angels in our borders, I had very few friends, and even fewer admirers. Compliments, therefore, were never a given. Perhaps this is why I am taken so much by surprise. Or maybe there is something- perhaps the surprising tenderness in the way he said the words, or perhaps more simply the bewitching allure of a vampire, that makes my head dizzy.
Beautiful, echos my mind, and suddenly those words are all I can hear.
"So when were you going to tell me you were ogling at my back?" Soren laughs now, drawing away the subject that I am not going to answer, a careful mockery in his voice as he wiggles his eyebrows at me, hands placed smugly on his hips.
"Tease," I sniff, half turning from him. He shrugs lazily.
"Perhaps, yes, to you Serena darling," he states simply, offering up another shrug, as if that is all that needed to be said. He sits himself on the bed, dark shadows dancing around him like wispy snakes, flickering in and out of existence. I tuck my nightgown under my arm, and lean myself against his wardrobe, eying him warily. From a distance, shadows forgiven, he might almost look normal: a dark, handsome figure obscured by buttery light and delicate curved horns. Not the cruel prince of the vampires who killed for fun and viscously teased and snapped the neck of his own brother. Someone I didn't have to manipulate, someone I might like to be friends with. I almost don't register when his golden eyes catch mine. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out:
"What are your powers?" He shifts slightly, eyebrows raised in silent questioning. For a moment, the room itself darkens, the faint golden glow receding into its source. My back stiffens. I continue hurriedly before I can start arousing suspicions from him, before I can lose my nerve. "You can teleport through shadows, and you said you know my desires, so you can read my mind?"
He chuckles delightedly to himself, levering himself up with one hand and walks to inspect the glass door, running his fingers down the panes of glass longingly. His rings clink as they come into contact with the door. The light in the room returns, as does my breath, which I didn't realise I was holding.
"Since you look so very gorgeous in that dress, and I am not one to resist a beautiful lady, I shall tell you." he affirms, not looking at me as his voice drops low, cold breath fogging up the glass. He stares out of the window for a few silent seconds, perhaps at his city, perhaps at the stars, or perhaps at nothing, and then deeming me quiet enough to continue, he murmurs:
"I am a very rare type of creature, called a shadowspeaker. As you have already seen," he states, holding up his fingers to the light of the lamp- fingers that are coiled with shadows, thick, wreathing shadows. "I can indeed teleport, as many vampires can. Though here we prefer to call it shadowshifting.." As if to demonstrate his point, a moment later he vanishes, and in that split second he does, I am hoisted off the ground.
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And I do. I really do. The soft fabric is comfortable, tightly drawn in at the places a female might want to show off, breaking away at the deep plunging v-neckline, which is covered by the same sheer fabric that makes up the sleeves. The rest of the dress flows out from the waist, airy and light, not too puffy but with enough volume that any prying vampire would probably stay an arms length away if only to avoid getting caught in the reams of crimson fabric. It compliments the beautiful swirls of the blood necklace so perfectly that I might have thought he had it tailored especially for me- might have if he wasn't the Scarlet Prince who happens to lust for my blood.
Soren's eyes simmer a hazy gold, his face soft and thoughtful, and in that one, solitary moment, I look at the gentle fondness on his face and forget he is a monster at all.
"I think you look beautiful," he says in response to the question I hadn't fulfilled with an answer, curling two clawed fingers around the stray ringlets of my hair. My heart skips a beat. Traitor, I think to it.
"Like that's supposed to convince me," I snort, trying my best to keep my heart from rocketing again, like it did three days ago, wrinkling my nose and struggling to bury its rising flutters. I press a finger to his chest accusingly, a drunken smirk rising on my face. "How many women have you said that to? 20? 100?" All those women around your throne, I add silently. Soren frowns- actually frowns, as though accused of some treacherous crime.
"You want me to deny the fact I find you attractive?" As soon as the words leave his lips my face drops, and I take a step back. So bold, yet the tone of his voice has dropped, serious, as he tilts his head to look at me, questioning, searching. It is almost as though he is daring me to tell him otherwise, to deny him his opinion, and see what would happen as a consequence. Yet is is obvious what he wants me to do. The tap of his foot is willing me to answer, pushing me to speak as he studies me with those curious golden eyes.
Well? A voice in my mind purrs that is not my own. I ignore it, and that flawless frown deepens. It isn't like I hadn't been called beautiful before- it isn't like I had been much either. The angels of Illistrae had tended to avoid complimenting me, lest it be wrongly taken as advances upon their queen, and punished by the council. The council had always been strict with controlling access to my company, and so although I knew most of the angels in our borders, I had very few friends, and even fewer admirers. Compliments, therefore, were never a given. Perhaps this is why I am taken so much by surprise. Or maybe there is something- perhaps the surprising tenderness in the way he said the words, or perhaps more simply the bewitching allure of a vampire, that makes my head dizzy.
Beautiful, echos my mind, and suddenly those words are all I can hear.
"So when were you going to tell me you were ogling at my back?" Soren laughs now, drawing away the subject that I am not going to answer, a careful mockery in his voice as he wiggles his eyebrows at me, hands placed smugly on his hips.
"Tease," I sniff, half turning from him. He shrugs lazily.
"Perhaps, yes, to you Serena darling," he states simply, offering up another shrug, as if that is all that needed to be said. He sits himself on the bed, dark shadows dancing around him like wispy snakes, flickering in and out of existence. I tuck my nightgown under my arm, and lean myself against his wardrobe, eying him warily. From a distance, shadows forgiven, he might almost look normal: a dark, handsome figure obscured by buttery light and delicate curved horns. Not the cruel prince of the vampires who killed for fun and viscously teased and snapped the neck of his own brother. Someone I didn't have to manipulate, someone I might like to be friends with. I almost don't register when his golden eyes catch mine. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out:
"What are your powers?" He shifts slightly, eyebrows raised in silent questioning. For a moment, the room itself darkens, the faint golden glow receding into its source. My back stiffens. I continue hurriedly before I can start arousing suspicions from him, before I can lose my nerve. "You can teleport through shadows, and you said you know my desires, so you can read my mind?"
He chuckles delightedly to himself, levering himself up with one hand and walks to inspect the glass door, running his fingers down the panes of glass longingly. His rings clink as they come into contact with the door. The light in the room returns, as does my breath, which I didn't realise I was holding.
"Since you look so very gorgeous in that dress, and I am not one to resist a beautiful lady, I shall tell you." he affirms, not looking at me as his voice drops low, cold breath fogging up the glass. He stares out of the window for a few silent seconds, perhaps at his city, perhaps at the stars, or perhaps at nothing, and then deeming me quiet enough to continue, he murmurs:
"I am a very rare type of creature, called a shadowspeaker. As you have already seen," he states, holding up his fingers to the light of the lamp- fingers that are coiled with shadows, thick, wreathing shadows. "I can indeed teleport, as many vampires can. Though here we prefer to call it shadowshifting.." As if to demonstrate his point, a moment later he vanishes, and in that split second he does, I am hoisted off the ground.
And I do. I really do. The soft fabric is comfortable, tightly drawn in at the places a female might want to show off, breaking away at the deep plunging v-neckline, which is covered by the same sheer fabric that makes up the sleeves. The rest of the dress flows out from the waist, airy and light, not too puffy but with enough volume that any prying vampire would probably stay an arms length away if only to avoid getting caught in the reams of crimson fabric. It compliments the beautiful swirls of the blood necklace so perfectly that I might have thought he had it tailored especially for me- might have if he wasn't the Scarlet Prince who happens to lust for my blood.Soren's eyes simmer a hazy gold, his face soft and thoughtful, and in that one, solitary moment, I look at the gentle fondness on his face and forget he is a monster at all."I think you look beautiful," he says in response to the question I hadn't fulfilled with an answer, curling two clawed fingers around the stray ringlets of my hair. My heart skips a beat. Traitor, I think to it."Like that's supposed to convince me," I snort, trying my best to keep my heart from rocketing again, like it did three days ago, wrinkling my nose and struggling to bury its rising flutters. I press a finger to his chest accusingly, a drunken smirk rising on my face. "How many women have you said that to? 20? 100?" All those women around your throne, I add silently. Soren frowns- actually frowns, as though accused of some treacherous crime."You want me to deny the fact I find you attractive?" As soon as the words leave his lips my face drops, and I take a step back. So bold, yet the tone of his voice has dropped, serious, as he tilts his head to look at me, questioning, searching. It is almost as though he is daring me to tell him otherwise, to deny him his opinion, and see what would happen as a consequence. Yet is is obvious what he wants me to do. The tap of his foot is willing me to answer, pushing me to speak as he studies me with those curious golden eyes.Well? A voice in my mind purrs that is not my own. I ignore it, and that flawless frown deepens. It isn't like I hadn't been called beautiful before- it isn't like I had been much either. The angels of Illistrae had tended to avoid complimenting me, lest it be wrongly taken as advances upon their queen, and punished by the council. The council had always been strict with controlling access to my company, and so although I knew most of the angels in our borders, I had very few friends, and even fewer admirers. Compliments, therefore, were never a given. Perhaps this is why I am taken so much by surprise. Or maybe there is something- perhaps the surprising tenderness in the way he said the words, or perhaps more simply the bewitching allure of a vampire, that makes my head dizzy.Beautiful, echos my mind, and suddenly those words are all I can hear."So when were you going to tell me you were ogling at my back?" Soren laughs now, drawing away the subject that I am not going to answer, a careful mockery in his voice as he wiggles his eyebrows at me, hands placed smugly on his hips."Tease," I sniff, half turning from him. He shrugs lazily."Perhaps, yes, to you Serena darling," he states simply, offering up another shrug, as if that is all that needed to be said. He sits himself on the bed, dark shadows dancing around him like wispy snakes, flickering in and out of existence. I tuck my nightgown under my arm, and lean myself against his wardrobe, eying him warily. From a distance, shadows forgiven, he might almost look normal: a dark, handsome figure obscured by buttery light and delicate curved horns. Not the cruel prince of the vampires who killed for fun and viscously teased and snapped the neck of his own brother. Someone I didn't have to manipulate, someone I might like to be friends with. I almost don't register when his golden eyes catch mine. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out:"What are your powers?" He shifts slightly, eyebrows raised in silent questioning. For a moment, the room itself darkens, the faint golden glow receding into its source. My back stiffens. I continue hurriedly before I can start arousing suspicions from him, before I can lose my nerve. "You can teleport through shadows, and you said you know my desires, so you can read my mind?"He chuckles delightedly to himself, levering himself up with one hand and walks to inspect the glass door, running his fingers down the panes of glass longingly. His rings clink as they come into contact with the door. The light in the room returns, as does my breath, which I didn't realise I was holding."Since you look so very gorgeous in that dress, and I am not one to resist a beautiful lady, I shall tell you." he affirms, not looking at me as his voice drops low, cold breath fogging up the glass. He stares out of the window for a few silent seconds, perhaps at his city, perhaps at the stars, or perhaps at nothing, and then deeming me quiet enough to continue, he murmurs:"I am a very rare type of creature, called a shadowspeaker. As you have already seen," he states, holding up his fingers to the light of the lamp- fingers that are coiled with shadows, thick, wreathing shadows. "I can indeed teleport, as many vampires can. Though here we prefer to call it shadowshifting.." As if to demonstrate his point, a moment later he vanishes, and in that split second he does, I am hoisted off the ground.
