Chapter 45: 45
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There are very few people outside, save for the few wandering vampires, and Faey folk cooing to each other amongst beds of roses like turtle doves in a nest. The night is cold enough that Soren's hand almost begins to feel warm in my own, almost comfortable as, before I can fully register what is going on, he pulls me into his lap on one of the soft garden sofas.
"This is beautiful," I sigh, surveying the surroundings as I draw my arms further around myself, shielding my body from the bitter chill of the night. Soren pulls my body against his, his hands gentle around my waist, tenderly toying below my rib cage.
Hedonistic bastard.
"Yes it is rather lovely," he chuckles, giving me a knowing look, as though he had heard the exact words that are chiming in my head. I blush a little.
"What is it with you and sitting me in your lap? I am not some promiscuous accessory you know," I joke as Soren blows out a long breath against my neck, lifting his head to place his lips to my ear.
"And do you object to such advances?" he whispers, sending a shudder running through my body, and making my stomach churn with the fiery warmth of embarrassment and... something else. Upon the absence of my reply, and the quickening tempo of my traitorous heart, Soren smiles against my skin, placing his lips on the junction between my neck and shoulders and murmurs smugly:
"Didn't think so."
A few paces off, a tall, black haired vampire spits in the grass at the sight, and mutters something under his breath, too quiet for my ears. Soren's head snaps up.
"What was that, Andrais?" says Soren coolly, as a thick cord of black shadows binds itself around the vampires neck before I can even register something is going on. I didn't think it was possible for a vampire- whose skin is already pale as fresh fallen snow and all the more colder, to get any paler, but I find yet again I am mistaken as that cord wraps tighter around the vampire's throat with a careless twirl of Soren's fingers.
Andrais clutches his throat and starts to turn a glacial, icy, blue. I flinch.
"Come on Andrais, Serena darling didn't hear you, say it a little louder for her," Soren prompts, leaning back on the sofa, and pulling a spare arm around me, as if to fix me in place.
There is no sign of tautness in his body, just a strange unnerving calmness that centuries of torture and murder had probably offered him. Yet his body is as hard as steel, so much so that if I had wanted to lean round and hit him, it would probably have crushed my hand instead. All at once I feel entirely helpless, remembering my sword pressed up against my bedside table, my first line of defence against vampires. Idiot.
Andrais gasps for air, and squirms some more.
"Please, my Prince," he starts.
"I asked you to tell her what you said," comes Soren's smooth reply, picking casually at his nails. The cord tightens with a crack. The look in Andrais eyes is nothing short of fear and I am sure, if he had a heart, it would be racing faster than an elven horse right now. I take shaky breaths to steady my own.
"Go on, tell her what you said," Soren purrs, as Andrais opens his mouth, and even the guard under the canopy shivers.
"Elvish slut," he chokes out, and my back goes rigid.
So Soren was right, a rumour had been spread.
Of course he is right- he always is. My hand instinctively goes to find my sword, and then remembering I don't have it, my fingers curl into tight, angry fists. Silently I curse myself.
I suppose I could see how I became that to them- Soren's whore, an elven woman lusting after the wickedest prince in all of Faey. Perhaps they wonder how I had gotten so close to him in such a short matter of time, seduced him, no doubt they thought.
Honestly, I remind myself, staring at the ropey cords of darkness strangling themselves around Andrais, I didn't really know either. Andrais groans against the pressure on his throat. My lip curls in disgust- for a vampire, he looks pitiful. Part of me debates going up there and ending his misery myself, and I probably would have had there not been a mass of crimson eyes watching the whole affair. With a light snap of Soren's fingers, the cords around Andrais' neck disappear, but fortunately he seems to know better than to run.
"See, wasn't so hard, was it?" Soren croons, his fingers sliding down my arms and curling around my balled fists, thumbs running in soothing circles over my skin, his eyes still fixed on the black haired vampire.
Calm down Serena darling. Don't let him see what that rumour does to you, you will only encourage them. Come that soft purr in my head, caressing my thoughts with his quiet, honeyed words. My eyes flicker round, just for a second, confirming that, in fact, Soren's lips hadn't moved. Yes, the voice is in my head. Slowly, I relax my hands.
"Now, tell me Andrais," he asks, his breath tickling the inside of my ear as he deliberately presses a cheek against the locks of my hair, bound into tight, curling horns.
"Is she not lovely, hmm?" Gently Soren prizes the mask from my face, his hands moving to caress my lower ribcage through the ruby confines of my dress, the movement very obvious to the series of onlookers. Some of them grimace, others stare fixated, as though they would very much like to be in his place. My breath hitches.
Of course, a power show. I should have expected this.
"Of course, my Prince," Andrais says slowly, uncertainly, glancing from Soren's hands, to his gleaming eyes behind his wolf mask. Others nod in a silent, nervous agreement. Andrais shifts from foot to foot.
"And did you think, Andrais," Soren's voice lowering a little now, dangerous undertones laced with the promise of violence and bloodshed. "Did you think that I would be foolish enough to let myself be seduced by a mere 'elvish slut'?"
"Of course not, my Prince, I merely think-"
"What?" Soren asks quietly, his fingers stilling on me. "What do you think?" Cold shadows seep out from underneath the canopy, crawling to Andrais' feet, a cruel parody of the events of the ballroom.
Fear shines in those bright ruby eyes, fear that roots him to the spot, that turns his face to a sickly grey. Perhaps he too is digging up the memories of Soren snapping Azrael's neck- the news must have been everywhere. And maybe he is thinking he won't be so lucky to be spared from death. I let him see the smirk creeping onto my face as I lean back against Soren, swaying my hips a little.
A power show it will be then.
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There are very few people outside, save for the few wandering vampires, and Faey folk cooing to each other amongst beds of roses like turtle doves in a nest. The night is cold enough that Soren's hand almost begins to feel warm in my own, almost comfortable as, before I can fully register what is going on, he pulls me into his lap on one of the soft garden sofas.
"This is beautiful," I sigh, surveying the surroundings as I draw my arms further around myself, shielding my body from the bitter chill of the night. Soren pulls my body against his, his hands gentle around my waist, tenderly toying below my rib cage.
Hedonistic bastard.
"Yes it is rather lovely," he chuckles, giving me a knowing look, as though he had heard the exact words that are chiming in my head. I blush a little.
"What is it with you and sitting me in your lap? I am not some promiscuous accessory you know," I joke as Soren blows out a long breath against my neck, lifting his head to place his lips to my ear.
"And do you object to such advances?" he whispers, sending a shudder running through my body, and making my stomach churn with the fiery warmth of embarrassment and... something else. Upon the absence of my reply, and the quickening tempo of my traitorous heart, Soren smiles against my skin, placing his lips on the junction between my neck and shoulders and murmurs smugly:
"Didn't think so."
A few paces off, a tall, black haired vampire spits in the grass at the sight, and mutters something under his breath, too quiet for my ears. Soren's head snaps up.
"What was that, Andrais?" says Soren coolly, as a thick cord of black shadows binds itself around the vampires neck before I can even register something is going on. I didn't think it was possible for a vampire- whose skin is already pale as fresh fallen snow and all the more colder, to get any paler, but I find yet again I am mistaken as that cord wraps tighter around the vampire's throat with a careless twirl of Soren's fingers.
Andrais clutches his throat and starts to turn a glacial, icy, blue. I flinch.
"Come on Andrais, Serena darling didn't hear you, say it a little louder for her," Soren prompts, leaning back on the sofa, and pulling a spare arm around me, as if to fix me in place.
There is no sign of tautness in his body, just a strange unnerving calmness that centuries of torture and murder had probably offered him. Yet his body is as hard as steel, so much so that if I had wanted to lean round and hit him, it would probably have crushed my hand instead. All at once I feel entirely helpless, remembering my sword pressed up against my bedside table, my first line of defence against vampires. Idiot.
Andrais gasps for air, and squirms some more.
"Please, my Prince," he starts.
"I asked you to tell her what you said," comes Soren's smooth reply, picking casually at his nails. The cord tightens with a crack. The look in Andrais eyes is nothing short of fear and I am sure, if he had a heart, it would be racing faster than an elven horse right now. I take shaky breaths to steady my own.
"Go on, tell her what you said," Soren purrs, as Andrais opens his mouth, and even the guard under the canopy shivers.
"Elvish slut," he chokes out, and my back goes rigid.
So Soren was right, a rumour had been spread.
Of course he is right- he always is. My hand instinctively goes to find my sword, and then remembering I don't have it, my fingers curl into tight, angry fists. Silently I curse myself.
I suppose I could see how I became that to them- Soren's whore, an elven woman lusting after the wickedest prince in all of Faey. Perhaps they wonder how I had gotten so close to him in such a short matter of time, seduced him, no doubt they thought.
Honestly, I remind myself, staring at the ropey cords of darkness strangling themselves around Andrais, I didn't really know either. Andrais groans against the pressure on his throat. My lip curls in disgust- for a vampire, he looks pitiful. Part of me debates going up there and ending his misery myself, and I probably would have had there not been a mass of crimson eyes watching the whole affair. With a light snap of Soren's fingers, the cords around Andrais' neck disappear, but fortunately he seems to know better than to run.
"See, wasn't so hard, was it?" Soren croons, his fingers sliding down my arms and curling around my balled fists, thumbs running in soothing circles over my skin, his eyes still fixed on the black haired vampire.
Calm down Serena darling. Don't let him see what that rumour does to you, you will only encourage them. Come that soft purr in my head, caressing my thoughts with his quiet, honeyed words. My eyes flicker round, just for a second, confirming that, in fact, Soren's lips hadn't moved. Yes, the voice is in my head. Slowly, I relax my hands.
"Now, tell me Andrais," he asks, his breath tickling the inside of my ear as he deliberately presses a cheek against the locks of my hair, bound into tight, curling horns.
"Is she not lovely, hmm?" Gently Soren prizes the mask from my face, his hands moving to caress my lower ribcage through the ruby confines of my dress, the movement very obvious to the series of onlookers. Some of them grimace, others stare fixated, as though they would very much like to be in his place. My breath hitches.
Of course, a power show. I should have expected this.
"Of course, my Prince," Andrais says slowly, uncertainly, glancing from Soren's hands, to his gleaming eyes behind his wolf mask. Others nod in a silent, nervous agreement. Andrais shifts from foot to foot.
"And did you think, Andrais," Soren's voice lowering a little now, dangerous undertones laced with the promise of violence and bloodshed. "Did you think that I would be foolish enough to let myself be seduced by a mere 'elvish slut'?"
"Of course not, my Prince, I merely think-"
"What?" Soren asks quietly, his fingers stilling on me. "What do you think?" Cold shadows seep out from underneath the canopy, crawling to Andrais' feet, a cruel parody of the events of the ballroom.
Fear shines in those bright ruby eyes, fear that roots him to the spot, that turns his face to a sickly grey. Perhaps he too is digging up the memories of Soren snapping Azrael's neck- the news must have been everywhere. And maybe he is thinking he won't be so lucky to be spared from death. I let him see the smirk creeping onto my face as I lean back against Soren, swaying my hips a little.
A power show it will be then.
There are very few people outside, save for the few wandering vampires, and Faey folk cooing to each other amongst beds of roses like turtle doves in a nest. The night is cold enough that Soren's hand almost begins to feel warm in my own, almost comfortable as, before I can fully register what is going on, he pulls me into his lap on one of the soft garden sofas."This is beautiful," I sigh, surveying the surroundings as I draw my arms further around myself, shielding my body from the bitter chill of the night. Soren pulls my body against his, his hands gentle around my waist, tenderly toying below my rib cage.Hedonistic bastard."Yes it is rather lovely," he chuckles, giving me a knowing look, as though he had heard the exact words that are chiming in my head. I blush a little. "What is it with you and sitting me in your lap? I am not some promiscuous accessory you know," I joke as Soren blows out a long breath against my neck, lifting his head to place his lips to my ear."And do you object to such advances?" he whispers, sending a shudder running through my body, and making my stomach churn with the fiery warmth of embarrassment and... something else. Upon the absence of my reply, and the quickening tempo of my traitorous heart, Soren smiles against my skin, placing his lips on the junction between my neck and shoulders and murmurs smugly:"Didn't think so."A few paces off, a tall, black haired vampire spits in the grass at the sight, and mutters something under his breath, too quiet for my ears. Soren's head snaps up."What was that, Andrais?" says Soren coolly, as a thick cord of black shadows binds itself around the vampires neck before I can even register something is going on. I didn't think it was possible for a vampire- whose skin is already pale as fresh fallen snow and all the more colder, to get any paler, but I find yet again I am mistaken as that cord wraps tighter around the vampire's throat with a careless twirl of Soren's fingers. Andrais clutches his throat and starts to turn a glacial, icy, blue. I flinch."Come on Andrais, Serena darling didn't hear you, say it a little louder for her," Soren prompts, leaning back on the sofa, and pulling a spare arm around me, as if to fix me in place. There is no sign of tautness in his body, just a strange unnerving calmness that centuries of torture and murder had probably offered him. Yet his body is as hard as steel, so much so that if I had wanted to lean round and hit him, it would probably have crushed my hand instead. All at once I feel entirely helpless, remembering my sword pressed up against my bedside table, my first line of defence against vampires. Idiot.Andrais gasps for air, and squirms some more."Please, my Prince," he starts."I asked you to tell her what you said," comes Soren's smooth reply, picking casually at his nails. The cord tightens with a crack. The look in Andrais eyes is nothing short of fear and I am sure, if he had a heart, it would be racing faster than an elven horse right now. I take shaky breaths to steady my own."Go on, tell her what you said," Soren purrs, as Andrais opens his mouth, and even the guard under the canopy shivers."Elvish slut," he chokes out, and my back goes rigid. So Soren was right, a rumour had been spread. Of course he is right- he always is. My hand instinctively goes to find my sword, and then remembering I don't have it, my fingers curl into tight, angry fists. Silently I curse myself. I suppose I could see how I became that to them- Soren's whore, an elven woman lusting after the wickedest prince in all of Faey. Perhaps they wonder how I had gotten so close to him in such a short matter of time, seduced him, no doubt they thought. Honestly, I remind myself, staring at the ropey cords of darkness strangling themselves around Andrais, I didn't really know either. Andrais groans against the pressure on his throat. My lip curls in disgust- for a vampire, he looks pitiful. Part of me debates going up there and ending his misery myself, and I probably would have had there not been a mass of crimson eyes watching the whole affair. With a light snap of Soren's fingers, the cords around Andrais' neck disappear, but fortunately he seems to know better than to run."See, wasn't so hard, was it?" Soren croons, his fingers sliding down my arms and curling around my balled fists, thumbs running in soothing circles over my skin, his eyes still fixed on the black haired vampire.Calm down Serena darling. Don't let him see what that rumour does to you, you will only encourage them. Come that soft purr in my head, caressing my thoughts with his quiet, honeyed words. My eyes flicker round, just for a second, confirming that, in fact, Soren's lips hadn't moved. Yes, the voice is in my head. Slowly, I relax my hands."Now, tell me Andrais," he asks, his breath tickling the inside of my ear as he deliberately presses a cheek against the locks of my hair, bound into tight, curling horns. "Is she not lovely, hmm?" Gently Soren prizes the mask from my face, his hands moving to caress my lower ribcage through the ruby confines of my dress, the movement very obvious to the series of onlookers. Some of them grimace, others stare fixated, as though they would very much like to be in his place. My breath hitches.Of course, a power show. I should have expected this."Of course, my Prince," Andrais says slowly, uncertainly, glancing from Soren's hands, to his gleaming eyes behind his wolf mask. Others nod in a silent, nervous agreement. Andrais shifts from foot to foot."And did you think, Andrais," Soren's voice lowering a little now, dangerous undertones laced with the promise of violence and bloodshed. "Did you think that I would be foolish enough to let myself be seduced by a mere 'elvish slut'?""Of course not, my Prince, I merely think-""What?" Soren asks quietly, his fingers stilling on me. "What do you think?" Cold shadows seep out from underneath the canopy, crawling to Andrais' feet, a cruel parody of the events of the ballroom. Fear shines in those bright ruby eyes, fear that roots him to the spot, that turns his face to a sickly grey. Perhaps he too is digging up the memories of Soren snapping Azrael's neck- the news must have been everywhere. And maybe he is thinking he won't be so lucky to be spared from death. I let him see the smirk creeping onto my face as I lean back against Soren, swaying my hips a little.A power show it will be then.
