Hey, Everyone! I’m finally back with a Claudia D. Christian release. Yay! As promised months ago, I am happily releasing the first novella in my Beloved Series—Darling. This series is by far my sweetest Claudia fiction. However, don’t think I’ve softened up. There’s still angst, betrayal, good-intentions-going-bad—all that stuff I love! (And I hope you love it too. )

SUMMARY

“Vampires should not love, Mistress. Their love is dangerous, expressed in a way humans do not understand. It could bring out the worst in both of you.”

From birth, Cassandra has been groomed to be the Beloved of Lord Constantine. Deeply in love with her lord, she is obsessed with being his wife and mother of his future Half-Blood children. As the Pureblood Vampire King of Nightmares, Lord Constantine has been obsessed with keeping Cassandra sheltered from the necessary cruelty of his world.

Even if that means keeping Cassandra a perpetual maiden.

Unfortunately good intentions and love are not enough when Cassandra cannot be protected from the one man capable of destroying her—Lord Constantine himself.

EXCERPT

“Darling, you cannot continue to be so miserable. It kills me. I know what you want. . .what you’ve always wanted.” Lord Constantine’s hand found its way beneath her robe. “I will make you feel better, darling. I promise.”

His touch shocked Cassandra enough to stop weeping. Despite all their years of familiarity, Lord Constantine had never once caressed her in such an intimate way. Trembling, she parted her legs, hoping, praying, ready to bargain for anything, if only her lord would finally change their interactions.

Please, please, please!

“Is this what you want, Cassandra? Tell me.”

Besotted by the touch of leather against her skin, she sighed, “Yes, my lord. This is what I have always wanted. Always.”

His eyes flashed crimson. She immediately looked away. Her instinctive reaction apparently gave him much needed control. “I adore you so much I am almost willing to give into damnation.” Lord Constantine squeezed her thigh once. Face tight with tormented lust, he struggled to hold back the beast hiding behind the beautiful mask of a civilized man. Lord Constantine waited until Cassandra looked back up at him. “Almost, but not yet.”

Lord Constantine removed his hand. Ice descended. Shock made her body numb. “I do not understand, my lord.”

Pity softened his expression. “I know you do not and I am sorry for it. We cannot do this.”

“But why?”

He kissed her softly, silencing her plaintive cry, and whispered, “I will not allow your love for me to become a poisoned thing.”

BOOK INFO

• Darling by Claudia D. Christian
• Word count: 18,000 (approximate)
• Categories: Gothic, Dark Romance, Paranormal Romance
• DRM-Free
• $3.99

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“He does?” Breathy and soft, her words fell away into the void.

“Yes. He does.”

“Why?”

“Because he hates you.”

“Oh. I see.” Alice’s natural armor attached itself without a fight.

Director H. patted her head once. “Let that sit for a bit, dearest.” He moved to the stairs and made himself comfortable. The water entrenched him half-way to the knee. He crossed one over the other prettily. “Now, about your partner. He’s a prig, Alice, of the first order. He’s going to look down his well-bred nose and declare you inferior.”

“Because I’m an orphan.”

“No, because he’s being a stubborn ass.”

Alice cracked a smile. Keeping her arms crossed and her knees tucked, she gestured with her chin. “You’ve gotten your legs wet.”

“Yes. I know.”

“Okay.”

“You think it strange? How refreshing.” Director H. preened. “When you live in world where consequences mean everything and nothing on the same turn, you find it easier to just do what pleases. Remember that, dear.”

“I will. I’m going to rinse my hair now.”

“You should let it set longer.”

Alice paused. “No. I’m going to rinse but thanks.” She scooted out, careful to remain on the last step, and dipped her head back. Alice swished her head from side to side.

“See. I knew you were a smart girl.”

“Of course I am, Director H.”

He flicked water towards her. “Would you like some more advice?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Why not indeed? Come here, pet. Sit next to me.” He waited until Alice arranged herself modestly before proceeding. “This first meeting is very important, dearest. Don’t let your partner get the upper hand with you. He will try to do so.”

“He’s that much of a jerk, right?”

“No. To be fair, I don’t think it’s a deliberate action to dismiss you based on you. It’s self-defense for him.”

“Self-defense? How so?”

“He’s frightened to death you, Alice.”

“Of me?” A tiny frown stitched between her brows. “What does he think I’ll do to him?”

“Change him. Challenge his beliefs. Make him someone he doesn’t ever want to be.”

“I’m not that—”

“Powerful? Of course you are, Alice. You’re a woman. You have all the power you could ever need. Life and death—it all rests upon your whim.”

Alice’s attention skimmed everywhere but Director H.

“I’ve embarrassed you.”

“A little.”

“You shouldn’t be when it’s truth.”

She puffed a tiny breath. “Maybe it’s how it works here but in the real world I’m just an orphan with a whole lot of problems. No power there. Everyone is afraid of me for one reason or another. Do I have any psychological issues? Am I dangerous? Will I cause problems? Will I set your house on fire? Am I dirty? It goes on and on.”

“And now you have to worry about the same things here.”

“Yes. It’s really not going to be any different here. Wherever here is.” Alice regarded Director H. “Maybe I’m still in the hospital and you’re just something I’ve dreamed up. Maybe I’m dead.”

“And maybe you’re just being a bore.” Director H. stood up and held out a wet, gloved hand. “Come, Alice. You’ve gotten entirely too maudlin. I don’t need you morose. I need you confident, defiant, and smart.”

Alice took his hand while keeping her other arm banded across her chest. She clenched her thighs tighter in an awkward attempt at modesty. Before she could ask for a towel, he pulled one out of his front pocket.

“How did that fit in there?”

“Pardon?”

“The towel. How did it fit there?”

Director H. wrapped her in the scarlet towel with efficient ease. “Magic, pet. White or black?”

“What?”

“White or black? Hurry. Choose. White or black?”

“Uh…black!”

“Very fitting.”

She writhed in terrible bliss. Lily crashed into Julian’s marvelously blue stare. Lighter than the crystallized sky, it ate into her with ice teeth. Lily fixated on everything and nothing. Julian’s lips were moving. Tiny, elegant movements orchestrated to obliterate all of her.

I don’t want to think. Shut-up! Shut your filthy mouth, Julian! Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking.

“I will not.” His fingers bit into her jaw, pressing the skin over her teeth until her mouth hung open. “I think you should, my dearest little girl, before you embarrass us both.”

Lily didn’t realize she had been chanting her thoughts out loud, over and over again. Alone in her mind, alone in her conviction, she had become a broken record. Seeking to find that which had never really existed; searching for that someone who had existed only in her head.

Something hot, sticky, and foreign slinked inside the protected parts of her memories. It wrapped around the pretty box scored with Ian’s name and likeness. Dark, dirty, and obscene it soiled all those precious vignettes bearing the likeness of the demon vampire holding her aloft.

The pictures in Lily’s mind singed. Never the same. Always damaged. Always incomplete. A falsity to being an honest representation of the past.

That’s what being next to Julian Douglas did to a person like Lily.

He dirtied her with his peculiar brand of truth. It couldn’t be refuted…only denied. Denied until she screamed herself hoarse. Denied until she spewed blood. Denied until she believed it too.

Lily thought this all in the span of a stuttered breath. She shook her head like a demented thing, seeking to throw his restraint off. Julian followed her, always following, always pressing, always opening, always…always…always.

“Tell me what you want, Lily. Tell me.”

Short, hard bursts of sound gouged through the madness infesting her. It screwed into Lily, deflating her rebellion. Her borrowed power ebbed, dying an uneventful demise. It disappeared. No trace of superhuman abilities, only a body racked with severe chills and the type of sweat accompanied by high fevers.

“I’ll keep feeding you drops of my blood if you don’t give me what I want. I’ll break your legs to keep you from running…your arms just because. Do you think they’ll heal straight?”

Lily’s molars cut the inside of her cheeks. The blood tasted foul, a cheap, disgusting substitution of his. Her head jerked forward and back. Her jaw ached from the pressure of his fingertips. Her tongue flopped, making speech nothing more than a clumsy effort to appear human.

“Tell me, you little bitch! Tell me!” Julian pushed her head back. An insidious urge to snap her neck leapt upon him. Lily’s face paled into a small stone circlet. Perhaps she saw the beast pressing him to kill her and be done with it all. Her black gaze reached out. It sucked him in and smothered him like tar.

Julian shuddered from disgust. Being this close to Lily, scenting her, tasting the tiny particles of sweat covering her skin, taking her into his body as surely as he flowed into hers, made him forget. It made him forget the humiliation he suffered at her hands, at hands such as hers.

So great is my rage, so great is this insidious need to push her away even as I drag her back by her ridiculous hair.

Her coloring was too much. Black hair, black eyes, dusky skin promising swarthiness if exposed too long in the sun…all of it too much.

Julian longed for the peace his eyes found when in the presence of pale hair, eyes, and skin. A long, lithe, willowy frame fit his arms so tenderly, promising companionship without confusion. Lily’s body, small as it was, rioted with curves. It muddled it his body, this juxtaposition of tiny stature and a woman’s lushness.

Pinpricks of color bloomed beneath his fingers. Julian’s insides coiled. Lily’s blood, her wretched, impure, disgusting concoction of instinct and impunity dragged him closer. His mouth touched her chin. He closed his eyes, head moving slightly as if hearing the symphony of life and death play between them.

“Lily, you are filthy creature. If I caged you up, locked you far away from prying eyes, how long would it take to turn you into an animal? A week? A day? How long, Lily? Should we try? No? That’s too bad. I am going to lock you up, you know. I’m going to lock you up in cage right in front of the whole world.”

Lily bent her head until it rested against his. She whined. Inevitability had already chained her to him long ago.

“Tell me, Lily. Call me by name.” Julian slid his hand away. Lily’s mouth hung open obscenely. He pulled back to look at her. Limp, sweaty hair, glazed eyes, and puffing breath all created a tableau of sexual satiation.

A lie, like so many of the ones between them. A beautiful one though.

Lily’s entire body fixated on Julian’s lips. She wanted to taste and ravish him. The wish that she could have a penis, if only for an hour, just to fuck him senseless shocked her.

Only a little.

She never would have birthed this deviant thought for Ian. However, Julian made her hard, wicked, and immoral.

He wanted her to call him by name. As if he could draw her closer by making her pronounce those gliding syllables. Stupid man. Julian already had her in his net.

Lily open and shut her mouth, imagining herself as his fish. His dinner to cut open, consume, and take into him. It sickened even as it made her press closer. Her tongue slipped out and tasted the corner of his exquisite mouth.

“Julian.”

He rushed forward and slammed her against a tree. Lily’s sharp cry hushed into a trembling moan. Julian’s mouth, his precious, gorgeous, hurtful, sharp, terrible mouth attached itself over her virgin nipple.

Lily watched her mother leave the room. She waited until the footsteps faded into the muted sound of a carefully closed door.

“You actually can obey orders. It’s very gratifying to know.”

“Douglas…” her tiny voice paired alongside a placid countenance attested to a battered opponent. “Is there anything you would like before you take your leave of us?”

The vampire possessed a smirk worthy of a well-fed cat. “Are you offering me sustenance?”

“What would you like?”

Julian beckoned Lily to him. He noted her stingy steps. Amusement charged the air with mischief. Once she stopped an arm’s distance away, Julian snapped out and hauled Lily to him. He ignored her hiss and settled his mouth above her carotid artery. It throbbed and jumped madly.

“How about you, Lily?”

“You’re not still hungry. You already fed from…Nicole.”

“Hmm. True. Maybe I’m just a glutton, Lily.” He feathered his lips right above the skin. The tiny hairs sprang to attention, currying for his favor. “Maybe I just wonder how virginal you’ll taste.”

Lily stayed silent.

“Oh, you’re being so submissive, darling. I like it very much.”

She tried to burn a hole in the floor with her dogged stare.

“Are you not going to screech in my ear? Hmm. That would disappoint me if you lost all your fight, Lily.”

She remained rigid in his hold. Her mouth hardened like her posture.

“Maybe if I bite you I’ll get to hear a little screech. What do you say?”

“I say you won’t. You have no interest in feeding off of me. I’m not food for you.”

“Sounds like a dare.” Julian’s fang tips scraped over Lily’s neck. “I’m not above indulging in childish antics. After all, I’ve endured yours all night.”

Lily inhaled sharply. Ridiculous pleasure threatened to rob her numbness. She wanted to drive her fist into his throat. Knowing it wouldn’t do much but satisfied with the symbolism, Lily struggled to keep her impulse in check.

She’d already been reprimanded for her aggression more than once by her mother. She wasn’t going to go for a third. Not tonight and not for him.

“Lily? Lily?”

His sing-song voice penetrated her resolve. Anger, familiar, beautiful anger, boiled beneath her skin. Lily hated their game. Hated the way things had degraded between them. Honesty used to be their language. Now it was a thing difficult to find amidst all the pretty words and hissed curses.

“Douglas. I want you to leave. I can’t make you because my mama wouldn’t approve. Instead, I’m asking you to go.”

Julian pulled away. He released her arms. “Why? Is my company that repellant to you?”

“The way you are now? Yes. It is.”

His eyes flashed gold. “Do you think you are so much more amusing this way?”

“I’m not trying to amuse you, Douglas. I’m just trying to survive.”

“I see.”

“Do you really?”

“I do.”

“I don’t think so. You come into my life as someone I can look up to, someone I can trust. You protect me, become the brother I never had and father I needed. I grow up with you. I fall in love with you. And then you leave. You leave me and come back as someone else. You hate me. You hate me for not knowing you existed. I can’t help that, Douglas! I can’t help that no one saw fit to tell me who you really are! Last night you wanted to kill me. You. Wanted. To. Kill. Me. And…I…no. I’m not…going…”

Lily walked briskly into the kitchen and out the back door. Her words, the most honest ones she’d spoken to him since their reunion the night before, dug away at her insides. They exposed her for the lost, abandoned child she really was.

She stalked past the tiny ash pile, remnants of the blanket she burned just that morning, and kept walking. She went past the vegetable garden, past the flower beds, and past the shed. Lily walked, disheveled and barefoot, and mourned. Tears slipped past their ebony cage, free to show their existence when no one was watching.

Lily became aware of footsteps echoing hers. She wiped her cheeks and stifled the swollen sobs pouring from her mouth. Her humiliation complete, Lily saw no other option than to stop and turn around.

Julian stood only a few feet behind her. “If you wanted to speak outside, darling, all you had to do was ask.”

“Stop it. Stop being so nice to me when you don’t mean it at all!”

“Of course I mean it. I’m courting you now, Lily.”

“Oh, my sweet girl. I pity you but so look forward to seeing you both burn.” Director H. looked back at the pool. “Pooh! I should’ve left you on the stairs. Back with you, my girl.” He lifted Alice up by the hair and carried her back. “Director K.?”

“Ready?”

“Anytime you are.”

Sensation halted. Sound caved inwards. Director H. felt his body freeze for a moment too tiny to be classified as miniscule. Time resumed, unnoticed and forgotten by the naked girl named Alice.

“Director H.!” Thin arms clasped about her chest. “What are doing here?”

“I’ve come to fetch you, dearest.”

“Really?” Alice tilted her head to touch the bubbled strands with the tips of her shrunken fingers. “I still haven’t finished washing my hair. I didn’t think I was in here that long.”

Ruby eyes gleamed in secret amusement. “Time means nothing and everything here. It really can’t be trusted.”

Alice considered him, noticing how his new suit matched his colorless hair perfectly. It hurt her eyes to see such beauty.

“Do you like what you see, Alice?”

The blush most teenaged girls would’ve produced failed to color her cheeks. “I do. You’re very handsome, Director H. Why is that?”

“Superior genetics, my dear. Superior genetics.”

“You’re very lucky.”

“Really? Why do you think so?”

Alice shifted in the water, belatedly bringing her legs up to attempt at modesty. “The rules don’t belong to you.”

“Don’t you mean apply?”

“No. Belong. People like me belong to the rules. People like you don’t. You’re so beautiful you shouldn’t exist. Humans say you should be a monster but you’re not. Not in that way. You’re something else so beyond rules. You’re lucky.”

Director H. crouched down. His face, smooth as marble, beckoned Alice to touch it. She kept her arms crossed but her fingers itched.

“Would you like me to finish washing your hair?”

This time Alice’s cheeks erupted in violent color. “Oh, no. I can do it myself. Really. You don’t—” Her throat choked. Director H.’s gloved fingers took her hair and massaged it into a whipped confection of scented bubbles. “I really could’ve done it myself.”

The wretched whisper produced an ear-splitting grin. “I know you could have. You’re so independent, my dearest. One of your finest qualities if not your worst. Indulge me.”

Alice’s posture reminded him of someone else—it was as inflexible as Yukio’s. “Do people scare you often, Alice?”

“No.”

“Even when they’re…hmm…how should I say this? Abusive?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t abuse me if I don’t let you. I don’t let anyone do it.”

“Ever?”

“Never.” Alice risked moving her head. She looked at him. “Abusing my body isn’t the same as abusing me.”

“You’re warning me. Alice, my love! I have no interest in hurting you.”

“Then why ask?”

“Because your partner definitely has every interest in doing so.”

Image Credit: dimitri_c @ Stock.Xchng

I’m playing on my canvas yet again, Angst Junkies. I have had the pleasure of meeting via Twitter an extremely talented writer by the name of Penny Jane Goring. She weaves passion with a lyrical tongue. Her work is raw; chaotic in perfect order. Bone, Dust, Disco is a glorious example of Penny’s unapologetic, always moving, evolving poetic style. It is raucous, whispering, lamenting, shouting, loving all at once.

Reading Penny’s work has inspired me to experiment with my prose. To push the boundaries of how I tell a tale. I am not a poet but I would like to create with a poet’s freedom. The story is ragged about the edges. Not polished and written right off the cuff. Part literary storytelling mixed in with ambiguous imagery. It may develop into a novella. It may not.

Paint by Numbers is a story about love but it is not a love story. Not in the traditional sense. The adoration is circular, familiar patterns repeated in unfamiliar ways. I don’t know how it will end but maybe that’s the point.

“Paint By Numbers”

Life runs in cycles. It is guaranteed when nothing else can be.

Born. Die.

Love. Lose.

Hate. Love.

Lust. Hate.

Love.

Love always drove the cycle. In its basest form at times, barely distinguished as such, but there nonetheless. Another tick to the tock. Another way to begin. Another way to end.

They had many cycles. Many lifetimes of love, hate, denial, betrayal.

Though they never called it such.

***

The first had been eons before in a place where time meandered instead of flowed. The world, faithful to its virgin cycle, stood on the cusp. Knife above the wrist, all it needed was a handful of giants to see-saw the blade.

He had been the one to kill them all.

She had been the one to see it coming.

Kae and Kaen. Names so much like keen.

“It will change everything. The Gods sanction it. This. It is my duty to serve. We will be safe when the culling begins.”

“No God’s word can be trusted, Kae. You know that.”

Still she welcomed him inside her, despite the worries gnawing her mind. Her love for him, purest, devoted like a simple-minded pet, drank the madness siphoning off him.

If her smiles lost their sun brilliance so be it. If her eyes dimmed as she looked about so be it. If her shoulders buckled more and more so be it.

He loved her for it. He hated her for the same. His caresses, once so tender, amalgamated into something else. Bit by bit—poison in a matter most tolerable until it kills.

Walking so close to the Gods did something to his psyche. Burned it, molded it, worked it into something new. Something monstrous.

He plucked her out of the glittering purple towers, cordoned her into a cage of his making. Deprived of sight, sound, smell, touch, taste of anything but him.

The last night in that world of forever finds her suffering courage.

“I want to go home.”

“This is home. I am home, Kaen. Where I go is where you live.”

First thrust of the blade leaves the victim numb. She bleeds out in ignorance. Her words, staccato bits of pleading fall out of his ears as quickly as they enter.

“Please, Kae. I don’t like this. Just stop this. Don’t do this. Don’t help them kill us all.”

“Kaen, it is over. There are no more tomorrows.”

Her heart shrivels. She continues to move. Empty spot where flesh mated love.

“You’ve lost your mind. You’ve lost everything that made you. You’ve lost me.”

A rough shake, hair twining like spider webs around his wrists, before he pushed her down onto the bed. Sprawled legs, bite marks ravaging the tender skin, bruises replacing kisses. Liquid slides, fun for all and fun for none, leaving her gasping muttered incantations of loathing.

He kisses her. Blood stains their lips. He whispers, “You’ll like the new world. It’ll be perfect, free from our flaws. Absolute. It goes back to absolute. We can start over. You won’t even remember this.”

“You’re wrong. I’ll find a way. I swear it.” She takes him inside her mouth, sucking, pulling, lapping, swirling her tongue along the head in mimicry of unfound magic, setting a spell to her curse.

Somewhere in the night the sky turns orange. Everything is incinerated. Including an entwined couple whose names sound so much like keen.

The Gods came. They didn’t need the bodies. Just the newly-created souls.

***

The second. Much like the first and nothing like it at all.

He loves her. She doesn’t love him.

She’s drawn to his devotion. She loves to see herself in his liquid eyes. She accepts his overtures, his food, his strength, but not him. It doesn’t matter to her that he’s loved her since she was born and he only a few winters old.

No. She hates him.

She doesn’t know why. There are many things she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know why the sun leaves the sky. She doesn’t know why the moon cries when dark is its sharpest. She doesn’t know why he keeps after her when all she wants is for him to go.

They mate.

It is violent. It is glorious. She hates him more than ever before even while she hungers to have him mate her again. She thinks if he can just stay behind her, inside her, she’ll love him a little.

They cleave to a scraped out portion of the cave. It’s theirs alone. Scratching, biting, moaning. More moans than screams lately. Somehow she found herself atop him and stayed. Variety has introduced more love in his gaze.

She is repelled.

Not by his dirty fingers, musky odor, or even hers. She is repelled because she’s sticking to him. She’s forgetting the hates and remembering something different. She sees a flower and knows it is purple. Purple like the rocks spiking into a sky that used to be another color.

She leaves. Quivering like the beasts roaming the earth, she becomes half-mad with memories slicking through her like stagnant water.

She remembers. She doesn’t. She remembers more. She slams her head against a tree in time to the thoughts collapsing her mind.

More. More. More.

She finds another. Same hair, same eyes, same body. It’s him but not.

She mates him too.

Physical pleasure is scarce, satisfied like an itch before it starts up again.

He finds her. He finds him. He kills him in a matter most savage.

Sticky with blood, he comes to her. His grunts, screams, and cries morph into a slur she’s heard in her head. She looks at him, seeing him but seeing someone else. She hears him and another him all at once.

He rips into her and she screams. His echoes. Her stomach heats as hot as the blood smeared across her neck. She understands him. She understands herself. She hates him still but she hates herself more.

Her lips smash against his. She dribbles stone memories. They flow down his throat in a cadence he’d understand if only he could remember.

The Gods have been forgotten and this is her punishment for disjointed recollection.

Once finished but not sated, she pushes off of him. She runs away. Not in fear. Not in hatred. Her feet cut across the rock, leaving pieces of herself as red as the sky in her mind.

When she jumps off the cliff he follows. Always following, always loving, always forcing her to remember.

She angles her body, seeing him coming for her. The wind pulls at her skin.

Update 4-6-10

She whispers garbled memories. His old name keens.

They both shatter against rock.

***

Enough time passes. The Gods, fickle and sincere as they may be, realized the bones needed to stay buried until forgotten. Resurrect the souls too quickly and the meat puppets end up splattered.

The world evolves into something predictably destructive. The end is beginning again even if the final chapter is too far off to be considered a threat. Primitive roaming stops. Humans swarm like ants—localized and territorial. Stone rise in neat patterns.

He is now a man of wealth and power. The need to acquire rides him. Hardness blunted his limbs from memories he’s buried deep so they can’t ever hurt.

She’s a slave in his sand fortress. Her name is, “You there!” At first it frightened her beyond speech to be addressed by him. His temper ferocious, his power infinite, he had complete dominion over her. Night-black stare followed by curling hair, he is beautiful like a knife.

The first time she came to his bed it wasn’t a bed. He grabbed her by the arm and thrust her to the ground. Her arm throbbed in time to her ragged breath. She wants to speak, to plead for gentleness, but the words die.

They’re reborn into stingy bits of air.

He put his head down between her legs. His tongue rasps down and up. She’s reminded of the furred creatures roaming at will. She’s too afraid to let herself feel. It’s only after he’s withdrawn that she remembers the virgin bliss she’s had in a life too hard to be enjoyed.

He pushes into her, clamping his stone hands around her hips. She doesn’t even realize she’d been sliding away like sand. Afterwards, he tells her to go.

When she cries in asphyxiated silence he looks away as if she’s not there.

Somehow she didn’t expect it of him. Even she knows she deserves a slap for thinking blasphemy.

He never calls on her. She’s not worthy to be one of his perfumed, jeweled concubines. Instead, he pushes into her when there are no eyes to see his preference. Their couplings are rough but not violent.

Like a cut, painful but without the devastation of a missing limb.

He takes her everywhere but in his chamber. She’s not allowed to cross that threshold. He doesn’t speak to her except to tell her, “Turn over. Stand up. Come here. Down on your knees. Up on your knees.”

She likes those commands.

“You there! Get out.”

She doesn’t like those.

It’s the Sun Celebration. He marries a woman from far across the desert. She’s beautiful in the way of exotic.

She looks nothing like her lady.

She cries again but knows there’s no helping it. Such was the way for a girl named, “You there!”

He doesn’t fall upon her for many, many days.

She begins to forget the couplings. She forgets what it was like to clasp muscled arms. She forgets his stolen taste.

Her body can’t forget. It thickens into a small hard ball. She knows what is to come.

Update 4-14-10

She wonders what will become of her, of her little seed. She touches her stomach often. A smile finds him on such an occasion. Stroking, touching, protecting with her fingertips she stands in one of the labyrinth corridors, unaware of him watching her.

Her heart bursts for this small part bulging out her always-too-flat belly. She loves the boy/girl child without fear. She never thinks of death in the beginning of this life.

Stone hand pushes into underdeveloped flesh. She captures the scream before it runs. She’s too terrified to feel anything else.

He hisses questions at her, demanding to know who’s tasted her, who has put his bastard in her. She shakes her head, unable to form speech. He crowds her. The questions tumble over her like chains.

“Who? Who did this to you? Who?!”

Finally, she finds courage to name him. She expects to be murdered. Her tears run hot like his rage.

He takes her. Tiptoes strain to fly over stone to match his ravenous strides. He puts her into an empty room. No eyes to see what is to come and no mouths to repeat it. He demands for her to repeat herself.

She does. Her hands tingle with something forgotten. She feels rage lick at her restraint.

His black stare devours her. He takes one step towards her. She takes one to meet him. She knows there is no good ending for slaves who do what she is going to do.

He reaches out, enormous hand hovering above her cheek, and then thanks her.

Murderous self-destruction halts. She thinks he’s already killed her with a blow to the head.

He sees the confusion. He knows its cause. He repeats himself again. Again. And again. He confesses many things. He shares how she dances in his mind and has since they were children. His admits how his eyes never see anything but her.

She stands mute, mouth stitched by words.

When he lifts her gown she remembers to breathe. He goes down to his knees. His cheek rests against the tiny life they created. She sees herself in his shiny gaze. She wonders if he’ll dig out the child in his eagerness.

He takes her into another room. This one enormous and nearly empty. A bed, bigger and more beautiful than she can imagine, crouches in the center. She wonders if she’ll get to see it as he pushes himself inside her.

He barks her name. “You there! What are you looking at?”

His gentleness evaporates like their rain storms. She realizes they are no longer alone. Several slaves scurry about, bringing in wares she’s only allowed to touch in duty. She notices she’s been staring at a male slave and not seeing him.

He dismisses them. His brow snaps together. His expression terrifies, reminding her again how much power he holds over them all.

He tells her never to look at another man. Ever. He tells her she is his private slave, beholden only to him and their child. He describes her life from that point forward.

There’s nothing. Nothing to fear, nothing to do.

He chews his words. They nourish him in a way she doesn’t understand but accepts.

They bathe together. He keeps touching her despite the blushes. He slides into her. Their hips undulate in the hard rhythm that marks their couplings. He’s spent but she’s not. He drinks of her over and over again. She’s cleansed inside and out.

When he finally takes her in the bed she lets her cries fly.

Her cage is her own and she is pleased.

Time passes far too quickly. She loves her rooms. She loves the freedom of nothing. She loves to eat. To sleep. To love.

He comes to her every day and many nights as well. Very few eyes are allowed to see the thickening waist draped with gauze. She is his and his alone and he will not share.

Their lady hears tales of his slave-queen. She cares for none of it.

Bit by bit, grain by grain, poison will have its way.

She feels the weights dragging at limbs gone numb. She reasons it must be because of her pregnancy and hours spent in love. His eyes miss nothing. They gleam like polished rock.

She doesn’t question the new slaves about the old ones. Slaves like them, like her, were as numerous as the sand in her food. They never fully went away.

Finally the day comes when she must bear fruit.

She keeps the agony inside, contained in the muscles to be used as strength. This she has learned well. Too well. Pain, her faithful companion, is so common it can’t be distinguished from its plethoric variations.

He comes to her. He sees a living corpse. Whiter than white, she lays there, pushing, fighting, living only to die. Fear claims him. He knows she won’t see the morning.

“Lythara.”

It takes her many moments to realize he’s speaking to her. About her.

“My name. You know it?” She pants in a long version of speech.

“Thank you.”

She smiles. Shiny with sweat, in agony that rends her womb useless but for this one time, she smiles. He wonders why only now does he remember seeing her before. Later he dismisses the memory as those spawned by the drugging incense.

She pushes out their son. He’s small but strident. His screams bring more smiles in his mother.

She dies with a smile.

He sits there by her side and keens out her names.

The Queen dies without a smile. She chokes on her own blood.

He never remarries.

His son is a greater king than him.

Many grandchildren are born before he finds death.

Update 4-24-10

***

That life produces a line greater than the star-filled sky. Too many to count. The Gods are pleased. So are they. For a time that feels like forever and never all at once, they see each other and remember. Cleansed of the hate but filled with regret, they are eager to try again. They believe the next life will be better, longer.

They are wrong.

***

This time she is white like a flower. White hair, white skin, eyes so light a blue they’re silver. She is cherished, adored, and worshipped for looking like a goddess. Hidden in a temple, kept sated, she is happy with her life. Peace is like a net. It allows her safety from the hungry pinchers of man.

This time he is colorless with power. Whiter hair, whiter skin, eyes so light a brown they’re gold. He is brutalized, hated, and tethered for looking like a spirit. Exposed in an army, kept hungry, he is miserable with his life. Hatred is like cage. It keeps him embittered from the endless cruelties of man.

Hatred keeps him well-fed even when pushed beyond endurance. He grows larger, stronger than the biggest shadow. He kills without remorse. He fights his way to the top of their war machine. He controls them, directing their base savagery to benefit him. Disobedience is met with instant death.

None can topple him. What was once hated is now revered.

Love inspires her to serve those who serve her. The supplicants believe she can protect them from harm. Whispers of a black army tearing through their country drives them to her temple. Flowers adorn every inch of walking space. Her crimson robes drag the petals wherever she goes.

She can’t admit her fear. They love her too much.

Eventually he arrives. Knowledge of wealth beyond compare tugs him to their splendid mountain. His pitiless stare strips the walls clean of defense. He knows his soldiers will breach the temple before nightfall.

He sends them forward with a punch of his fist.

Inside the death cage, the supplicants swarm over their lady. They scream for divine mercy. Terrorized beyond coherency they beg for her help. She knows of only one way to do it. Her silver stare freezes, trapping the overwhelming love she feels for them all.

Dusk seizes the day when the walls give.

He leads them in, leashing their savagery with a bloodless stare that stretches to the very last man.

The streets are littered with decaying flowers and fresh corpses. They swarm in controlled patterns. Every man, woman, and child lie dead. Hundreds of them. Perhaps thousands. He eyes the slit throats with dispassion. This scene of mass suicide matters not to him. He doesn’t fear the revolt of an army filled with blood-lust. Gold will keep them in line.

He rides to the center. The ivory temple shines like his skin. He sees her seated on a throne and believes this little goddess to be dead too. Black robes, blood-red hair pricks his curiosity. Her swollen hand clutching the ceremonial knife snares his attention.

When she rises on swaying legs, the men murmur in death whispers.

He sees patches of white. Neck, crown, and leg.

Her hair is like his. So is her skin. In all the world he had razed, never had he come across another like himself.

She views them through bloodied lashes.

Update 5-9-10

The love she had once, liquid and warm like honey, hardened into something malignant. Her beautiful world was gone. Beloved friends, disciples, and supplicants were dead by her hand. She looked down at it, seeing the puffy skin attempting to swallow the knife whole.

Memories burst all at once.

The faces dropping back like broken flower stems, necks exposed to her with precious trust and devotion. The skin so soft, so trusting, so pure for her silver death. The children cried. Their screaming terror, wordless pleads for a bit more life, drove into her ears. She remembered how the weeping mothers and fathers held them still. Their taut shoulders and liquid eyes pleading for quick, flutterless death.

Her hand, her rotted, deviant hand, had struck true. Their precious baby skin had parted the easiest. Severed cries morphed into pitiful gurgles.

She swayed before the white demon. She watched him watch her. He was pristine, clean in the middle of all that precious death. His white hair, braided back high on his head, shimmered like dying starlight.

His lips moved. Their fullness a tribute to crimson, clotted gluttony.

Her arm rose. There was no more reason for one such as her to exist. Goddesses could only live if someone believed in them. Her believers all lay dead. It was time for her drop among the sickly-sweet blossoms.

For a young goddess, she had become ever so wise to what awaited her. None would remember her. None would mourn for their beloved deity. She might very well have killed the mother who had birthed her and the father who had carried her to this temple the very night of her birth.

Eyes dropping, sewing themselves shut with blood, couldn’t see him approach. The world switched to black. Fingers tightened, nails digging into the sticky handle, needing to ensure her strength for one more slash.

Wrist locked, will immobile, she created the violently beautiful move to end her reign.

Liquid agony wrapped her hand. She screamed a tiny, pitiful sound. Lashes struggled to release their bloody hold. He stood before her. Gloved fist possessed hers. He shook his head once.

Rage. Unfamiliar, poisonous rage turned her into a paper monster. She roared at him. Her eyes became steel. They promised terrible suffering for thwarting her precious, pure will.

He squeezed his fist.

She keened. Her head snapped back. She slumped away from him.

He dragged her to him with restrained, careful movements. The stench of blood didn’t offend. It was familiar, if not always desired. He knew what he wanted from this child-woman. His burning stare flicked at the ebony men pacing about the perimeter.

Their base desire meant nothing. He would crush them like the flowers beneath his heel.

Let their fucking be assuaged when they returned to camp. Their followers were many. The conquered trinkets would be plenty to assure a pleasing romp and gentle hand for these hardened warriors.

He looked at the unconscious creature cradled like sin against his fighting arm. She pleased his need for likeness. She could’ve been his dearest sister. Instead, she would become his slave.

TBC…

“What? No. You’re not serious. After the way you’ve treated me tonight. Crazy. You can leave now.”

“Lily.” Her spoken name halted her in mid-stride. She stood there, stretched between her adored mother and her un-adored foe. “Sit down.”

Julian patted the seat beside him, his smile dripping with charm. He waited until she reluctantly sat before clasping her hand in his.

“Lord Douglas, if you wish me to take your suit in consideration then I will. However, I need you to answer me honestly. Are you prepared to do so?”

It unnerved Lily to hear her mother speak so formally. It seemed very much at odds with the woman who had flashed her just this morning.

“I am. Please allow me to allay your concerns in any way you deem respectable.”

“Very well. I know Lily and Ian were very close. I also know you two are not. You can imagine this request is unusual from my standpoint?”

“You are correct. I haven’t been cordial to Lily. I even took out an Order of Protection against her.” His devilish smirk slid over Lily for a moment.

“Really? Is this why my daughter dragged herself home last night covered in blood?”

“Yes.” He faced Rachel fully. His eyes were twin points of unerring contrition. “I planned on killing her, Mrs. Walker.”

Rachel blanched. Lily leaped to her feet only to have Julian yank her back down. “Forgive me on two counts, Mrs. Walker. The first being I’ve chosen to use force with your daughter just now. As you’re aware my…species…is different from yours. We uphold our Elders implicitly and as you’ve instructed Lily to sit I am not willing to allow her to disobey.”

Julian continued speaking only after Rachel nodded in mute acceptance. Lily’s whispered curse went unheeded by both.

“Second and most important, I beg forgiveness for my hideous purpose. I tell you bluntly of my previous intentions to kill Lily because I believe we can only move forward with honesty. I detest lies, Mrs. Walker. I refuse to sully myself or those of my acquaintance with their existence.”

Rachel swallowed her initial reactions. She sat quiet until composure softened the hard glint in her stare and pinched set of her mouth. She shut Lily out; not sparing her a sliver of sight even though her child strained at the chains of courtesy.

“You wanted to kill my daughter last night.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’ve hated what Lily has represented for me. I was…maddened…to say the least. I remembered every moment that had passed between us. I loathed being under her thumb and suffering the emasculation she served daily.”

“I never did that. I loved you!”

Ian regarded her shattered composure. His voice softened. “Not me. You couldn’t love me because neither of us were real.”

Lily’s mouth quivered. Her eyes looked overlarge for her small face.

“Lord Douglas?”

He squeezed her hand once. Julian responded, “Yes, Mrs. Walker?”

“What now? You wanted to murder my daughter last night. Tonight you don’t. What will tomorrow bring?”

CHAPTER FOUR
“Lies Can Be Beautiful”

I can be what you want.
I can remake this world in your image.
I can because I must.

Spring 1995
Southeastern United States

Gaudy lights, greasy smells, and a crush of people marked Katherine’s third date with Mikhail. The first being their initial encounter. The second date when they met for breakfast the morning after. That had been five days before and it had gone surprisingly well.

Most especially since Katherine had almost not gone.

She had spent the whole night prior debating on whether she should go. Distance dulled the very real connection she had made with Mikhail. Neurosis made it so Katherine began to believe maybe none of it had really happened the way she remembered.

For every reason why she should meet Mikhail she had two against.

In the end, she had gone.

Adrenaline beat back exhaustion when Katherine saw Mikhail standing by the restaurant door. She had shown up fifteen minutes early but he had done her better.

Mikhail had met her at the curb, grabbed her hand, and grinned.

Katherine’s stomach flip-flopped when she saw his smile. She didn’t have to read Mikhail to see the effect repeated. From there shy hellos had evolved into a three hour breakfast. Communication birthed as stilted, grew into a marvelous tandem of easy conversation despite the hovering waitress.

After the thirtieth “Can I get you anything else?” Mikhail had paid the check with a rather large bill. He then thanked the server for her superb service and had asked her to keep the change. Katherine’s had watched in bemusement as the sour face blossomed into a beautiful smile.

She found she wasn’t surprised at all to see Mikhail have that kind of power. After all, hadn’t she felt it as well?

When he asked her to meet him at the carnival that weekend Katherine didn’t have to look in a mirror to know her smile rivaled that of the waitress.

Now as she walked next to Mikhail, ever conscious of his closeness, Katherine wondered if perhaps she had been too hasty with everything.

Ever since I met him I’ve lost all control. And the thing is…I don’t even care. I like it. I like not having to calculate everything. I like feeling free. I like being able to touch him and not feel like I’m doing something evil. I just like the way I feel when I’m with him.

And that’s just so wrong.

She had been careful to not give into her empathic urges when Mikhail held her hand to help her disembark a ride. Given they went on every ride in the park, excluding the kiddy ones, she had to control herself numerous times.

And now this.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“What?” Training her gaze to stare straight ahead, Katherine tried to ignore the humiliating flush burning her cheeks.

“You know—love. Have you ever been in love?”

A nervous trill of laughter broke free. The bubblegum cotton candy she held began to droop in her slack fingers. It became sticky and wet against her chin. Glancing at his curiously determined expression, Katherine realized with a sinking stomach Mikhail wouldn’t be denied an answer.

Great.

Finding the carnival sweet in her fist infinitely fascinating, Katherine replied in a hesitant voice. “In love? You mean in love, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I see.” She felt her cheeks fill with even more blood. “Umm…actually…not really,” she stammered.

“Never?”

The shock in his voice made Katherine frown in self-conscious irritation. She met his jade-green eyes boldly. “No, I haven’t. I don’t think it makes me a mutant or anything. It’s just that I never found the right person before now—”

Realizing what she had just divulged, Katherine gasped in mortification. She dropped her panicked gaze and began to eat the spun candy with desperate nibbles while walking away.

“Now?” Mikhail halted her quickening steps with one strong hand. He tipped her chin until she had no choice but to look at him. “What do you mean by now?”

“Uh…nothing! I just meant…” Katherine’s voice trailed off into a humiliated whisper. It was true. She loved him. Even though she had only known him for a week, Mikhail had become the most important part of her life.

How can I admit that to him?

It was ridiculous and she knew it.

“I’ve never been in love before,” Mikhail admitted.

Sadly swallowing the lump in her throat, Katherine was poised to murmur something appropriate when he said it to her.

“Until now.”

Update 11-13-09

Katherine recoiled. She almost dropped her fairy-pink cotton candy. “What did you just say?”

He immediately crowded her; not wanting to let her move away from him. Mikhail dipped his head and placed warm lips next to her small ear. “I love you, Katherine.”

Standing there, clutched his embrace, she looked past his shoulder. Electric lighting blurred, becoming a chaotic representation of their unusual circumstance. With his touch, she found the emotional walls between them becoming paper-thin. Katherine tried to respect their construction, even though she knew all it would take is one well-placed thought to punch right through them.

“You’ve only known me a week.”

“Same as you. And just like you, I’m in love.”

“Huh?” Katherine craned her head back to search his face. “What do you mean by that?”

His eyes crinkled with teasing warmth. “You love me too.”

She sputtered; cheeks pink and mouth gaping like a fish. “Well…I mean…I really didn’t say…you…ah…”

“Yes, you did. I heard you.” Seeing she was going to continue to spout denial in a nonsensical string of broken phrases, Mikhail tapped her nose once. “My ears are very, very good. I heard you, Katharina.”

Katherine trembled from all the emotions trying to erupt. Her gaze skittered away from his.

Isn’t this what I always wanted? Someone to love me. Someone who wasn’t afraid of me. So why am I so afraid?

“Mikhail?”

“Yes?”

“Is this going to get sexual?”

He whipped away his hands from her arms. Mikhail shoved them in his pockets. “Wow. I…uh…wow! That came out fast.”

Katherine took courage from his distance. “Do you just want sleep with me?”

“No. Not just.” The uncomfortable creases in his face took on comic proportions. “I mean, if that’s where we go then yes.”

“Are you liar?”

Mikhail froze. His gaze became glass.

“Would you lie to me just to get me in bed?”

“No.” His whisper made Katherine infinitely sad and delirious all at once. “I would never use you like that. Never. I would never do anything that disgraceful to any woman. Ever.”

Katherine wanted to trust with her eyes and not with her touch. She wanted to but she knew herself better. So she came to him, hand sticky with sugar and touched his burning cheek. Feeling Mikhail made her eyes close in bliss. Katherine entered his mind and danced in his lovely emotions.

She saw them together, imaginings like smoke in his thoughts.

Oh, he does want me. Badly. But that’s not all. He…he loves me. I’m inside his heart. Even I know this is insane. We don’t know each other. I can’t believe I started this stupidity but here we are. He’s not lying to me. He’s not. He loves me. Me!

“Katharina?”

She hummed in answer.

“What are you doing?”

Katherine gasped, pulling out of his body with violent disconnect. She struggled to find normalcy in her phrasing. “I just…I just wanted to touch you. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s okay.” He rushed to pull her hand against him again. “I like it when you touch me. You can do it whenever you want.”

Mikhail’s earnest smile set off guilt.

If only you knew what you were really agreeing to.

Update 2-27-10

Katherine sighed deeply, face troubled by a problem she couldn’t quite grasp. “I like you.” She said it slowly, deliberately, as if she were confessing to a heinous crime.

“Like? That’s all?”

His teasing grin curled her toes and robbed some of her severity. “That’s more than you should get for making me blush.”

Mikhail slid the back of one finger against her flushed cheek. “I like to see you blush. I like knowing I can make you blush.”

“You make me do a lot of things I’m not used to.” Katherine allowed a heady smile to overtake her. “I think I’m going to like it.”

He stared. Katherine’s grin contracted. She had the urge to bury her face back into cotton candy.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that. I thought all this time you were giving me…” Mikhail tucked her hair over her ear. “I want to continue to make you happy, Katharina. I never want to make you lose your smiles again.”

Katherine simply nodded.

“Come. Let us go see what else the night will find for us, yes?”

“Yes.” This time she placed her hand in his without hesitation.

“Oh, so sticky!” He kissed her knuckles. “Now I am sticky too.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll go wash them.”

He regarded the small, overly-concerned face in dismay. “Katharina, you take me too seriously. I was only teasing. I don’t care if your hand is sticky, dirty, clean, or otherwise. I love it as much as I love you.”

She ducked her head. Pink pleasure bloomed. The strain of touching him faded. Katherine stayed on her side of the world, allowing him the privacy he deserved. Instead, she focused on how nice it was to hold his hand.

“You don’t like being touched much, do you?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I can feel it.”

Katherine’s enraptured grin disappeared. She wiggled her hand free. She remembered their secrets. His secrets. “You can feel it.”

“Yes. Your body shakes. Deep inside…like it’s straining. Why?”

She thought of how much she liked the idea of him being different like her. Now she didn’t like it very much at all. “Mikhail…” A group of people crowded the space between them, cutting off her words. Katherine flinched when their limbs jostled her. She didn’t put up her walls fast enough. Slivers of emotional memories scraped across, filling her mind with things that didn’t belong.

“Feet hurt…”

…

“Can’t wait to get home so I can tell Tonya…”

…

“Hope I don’t get in trouble for being out later…”

…

“I like her but can’t let her know it…”

…

She sought his gaze from between the numbers of strange bodies. The crowd looked so happy but it was obvious they weren’t. They lied to one another, but never to themselves. Katherine wondered if it was humanity’s way. If so, did she belong there too? Or did she have to live by a different set of rules?

Mikhail slit the crush. He walked through and grasped her wrist. He pulled her to him and enclosed her in his arms. Katherine buried her face in his chest and just let herself feel.     

Image Credit: Hbregazzi @ Stock.Xchng

Previous | Next

CHAPTER THREE
“Control is the Downfall of Us All”

You seek to trap me.
I seek to keep you.
Neither of us will win.

Winter 2002
Northeastern United States

“Where are you going?” The words curled, heavy with panic. “You were just going to leave without telling me, weren’t you?”

Katherine slipped her arms into her jacket. She noted the brown stains edging the collar probably matched the ones on her sweater and pants. Katherine presumed because they had been cut off and trashed during her emergency room excursion. Blood, lots of it, had apparently gushed out while she lay unconscious in her car just a few days ago.

I’m lucky the airbag just made my nose bleed and didn’t break it. At least I’ve got something to wear. I need to thank Mikhail.

Katherine’s suitcase still sat in the back of her car, which presently sat in the back lot of the local tow company. Luckily, Katherine kept her ID and credit cards wedged in the inside pocket of her coat. Now all she had to do was call a cab and go over to the tow company. The police report had stated the accident as a minor collision with minimal damage, but Katherine wouldn’t feel secure until she saw it for herself.

First she needed to come to an understanding with her husband.

“I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye, Mikhail. Even you weren’t that callous. At least in regards to that.”

Mikhail set the drinks in his hand down on the tiny counter flanking him. “You haven’t been released yet.”

“Actually, I just was.”

“Oh.” Mikhail tilted his head. “I wasn’t aware of that. I thought Dr. Kelrich was set to release you this afternoon.”

“I guess he changed his mind.”

Mikhail heard the impatience in her tone. He looked down for a moment before asking, “Why aren’t you wearing the new coat I got you?”

“I don’t need it. This one is good enough until I get home.” Katherine picked up the black jacket, neatly folded it, and slipped it into a plastic bag. “Here. The tags are still on so you can return it.”

Mikhail held his hand up. “No, please keep it.”

“But I don’t need it.”

“I bought it for you, Katharina. It’s yours.”

Katherine inhaled sharply. “I don’t mean to be rude but I don’t want to keep it. You’ve already done enough for me and I don’t want to take anything else.”

“You’re my wife.”

“In name only, Mikhail.”

His eyes glassed over with tears. “Katharina, please don’t say that. Not today.”

She set the bag down between them. “Whether I say it today or tomorrow doesn’t change the fact, Mikhail. We were only truly married for five months.
That’s all. I haven’t seen you in seven years. I don’t think either of us can honestly call the other spouse.”

“You’re not my spouse. You’re my mate.”

“No, Mikhail. I’m not.” Katherine watched his tears spill over. Once again she marveled at how different this Mikhail was from the one she remembered. Then, he had to been prone to fits of brooding, true, but he had never allowed his vulnerability to show to this degree.

Not to her. Not to anyone.

“I thought…I thought you were going to give it a try.”

“I said we’re going to face this together,” she reminded him gently. “I still mean that.”

Mikhail nodded his head in jerking motions. “You’re still my mate, Katharina. I know you don’t believe me but it’s true.”

“Mikhail, you don’t owe me anything. You don’t owe me any explanations. I know of,” Katherine looked away, still fighting to hold back unwarranted resentment, “the other women you’ve been with. Seven years has passed since then. I’m sure you’ve been—”

“You’re wrong.”

“No, you don’t have to say—”

“You’re wrong,” he repeated. “I haven’t touched anyone since that night. After I felt your…our…loss, I haven’t slept with another woman since.”

Katherine’s heart hammered. The audible reminder of her miscarriage as well as knowing that while Mikhail had been celibate she’d been whoring her body made her feel ill.

I wasn’t always this sick but it feels like forever.

The dirty memories tried to crowd her mind. They wanted their empty puppet back. They wanted to make her do shameful things for the hope of feeling something other than them. Katherine’s vicious demons were powerful and very thorough.

Too bad for them their puppet finally rebelled.

Katherine straightened her posture. She smiled and picked up the bag again. “Well, please don’t feel that you owe me that or any explanations. Your private life is just that—private. I appreciate you kindness, don’t think I don’t, but as I said before—I’m not here to make the same mistakes.” She placed it by his feet and stepped back. “I’m here to be someone better.”

“I wish you didn’t see me as a mistake. I don’t see you as one.”

“Mikhail—”

“No, you don’t have to defend how you feel, Katherine. It was selfish of me to say that. I know you have every right to feel the way you do. God knows I’ve been nothing but a blight on your life in every way imaginable. This life, all the others, and I’m sure I’ll be in the ones to come.” He took the bag and tucked it under his arm.

Katherine, suddenly uncomfortable with the offhanded reminder of who and what they were to the DeMontiers, asked, “Did you come here alone? I mean are any others here?”

Curiosity played with his answer. “A few. Did you want to meet them?”

“No, no.” She held her hands up in defense while shaking her head. “No, that’s okay. I was just asking.”

“They know, Katharina. They know who you really are.”

“Just them or all of them?”

“Just them.”

“Do the DeMontiers know you’re here?”

“The ones that need to know.”

“Why do they think you’re here?” Katherine really knew she shouldn’t hold his answer against him, but the temptation was proving to be too much.

Unfortunately, Mikhail gave her temptation a right to crow.

His gaze slid away. His posture mimicked that of a nervous dog.

“They don’t know.” Bitter triumph painted her lips with a sneer. “You see? This is why we don’t need to get too chummy with one another, Mikhail. This is also why I’m telling you that your business is yours. My business is mine. Never the two shall meet, understand?”

“Katharina, it’s not what you think it is.”

“Oh, you have no idea what I’m thinking right now.”

“Politics are never an easy thing. Throw bestiality into the mix and it becomes near impossible.”

“Speak plainly.”

He looked upwards, as if trying to find the answers painted somewhere among the pristine ceiling tiles. “The First Mother isn’t viewed with much respect. She’s…damned near hated.”

“Why?” Pain, unreasonable perhaps, bracketed her mouth.

“Because she betrayed us, Katharina. She abandoned us, the DeMontiers, and led us to near-extinction.”

Katherine considered her next words. She spoke in halting breaths. “I…I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t? Why not?”

Her gaze flitted about the room. “It just doesn’t seem…right.”

“It is. It’s the truth.” Agitation claimed his stance. “Azer showed you a bit of how it was between Nikolaus and Adria. You saw his predilection for pain and dominance.”

Katherine recoiled from the memory.

The distinct sound of leather boots clicking against stone echoed throughout the room. It alerted her that something was definitely wrong.

Before Katherine could turn back, she heard a falsely pleasant voice.

“Beauty…”

“What’s happening?”

Katherine felt a strong hand jerk her head back. She sucked in her breath when it slapped her cheek sharply.

“Pretty dolls should be seen and not heard.”

Katherine’s furious words remained stuck in her throat. Her body froze in absolute disbelief. The elegant man by Katherine’s side was no longer Azer, but a cold, beautiful stranger. She stared at him in horror. “Who are you?”

He answered in a deceptively gentle voice. “Apparently not only do you disobey me, but insolence is to be added to your list of misdeeds. You have mightily displeased your lord, Adria.”

‘Nikolaus!’

His thin mouth lifted with silent amusement as he patiently allowed Katherine to look her look fill of him. Dressed in a long sleeved black shirt, form-fitting breeches, crimson velvet doublet, and highly polished boots, he resembled a dashing figure out of a fairy tale.

However, not once had Katherine ever seen the prince depicted with such a look of menacing rage on his face.

Katherine shivered as she noted the heavily lashed eyes peering into hers were no longer emerald, but onyx. The hair framing his strikingly pale face no longer burned with living flame, but reflected the color of darkest night. Although he still towered over her petite frame, his lean muscular build was only an inch or two over six feet.

‘He’s pretty…pretty but very dangerous…’

Her reverie was broken with one electric touch.

“Beauty, Beauty, Beauty,” the stranger murmured sweetly as he ran a finger down Katherine’s flushed cheek. “Before this night is through I will teach you what happens when my little doll disobeys.”

Katherine felt his hand brush across her bare back. He pushed the heavy weight of her hair over one shoulder. Looking down, she observed in numb disbelief that it was no longer curly-blond, but extremely long and jet-black. Further studying her new body, Katherine saw her breasts were paler and smaller, as was as her waist and thighs.

His sudden, low laughter immediately produced a tremor of anxiety within her naked body.

‘I’m scared of this man. He frightens me.’

“Although it goes against my judgment, I have mercy for you, Beauty.” Guiding her chin with one finger, he brushed his lips against her violently trembling mouth. “I know you’re not going to be able to control your cries, so let me help you.”

He stuffed a thick square of fabric between her lips and used another to tie it securely in place. Ignoring her muffled whimpers, he whispered viciously in her ear. “Don’t be bashful. Scream all you want now, Beauty.”

Before Katherine could deny this nightmare, she felt a red-hot flame travel from her shoulder all the way to the small of her back. Moaning from pain, she barely recovered before suffering another strike.

‘Oh, my God! He’s whipping me!’

One lash fell after another until it was all she could do to keep from screaming.

‘How could he be this way! Is this really the person he was? It can’t be!’

Suddenly the blows stopped.

Katherine’s harsh breath echoed obscenely from behind the gag. She jerked from another sort of pain when his tongue traced each welt with languid grace.

‘How can he be this perverse?’

“You’re so seductive when you cry, did you know that? It makes me want to do…everything…to you.” He released the thin whip in his hand and continued to lave her back. The action instantly soothed each sting he had inflicted in cruelty. He rose up over her limp figure. “Shhh. Shhh, Beauty. It’s all right, my love, I’m no longer angry with you.”

He released her wrists and carried her shaking body over to an intricately carved throne. Seating himself, he arranged her delicate limbs across his. He tipped her head back, keeping the cloth in her mouth. He brushed the matted locks away from her flushed face. “You suffered it beautifully, Adria. I’m so proud of you.”

The soothing tone vanished as his voice dropped to a warning growl.

“However, the next time I find you giving your smiles to Stephan, I won’t be this forgiving. Do you understand?”

Katherine released a pent-up breath. She couldn’t sort through her feelings in regards to Nikolaus and Adria. Firsthand experience taught Katherine that S&M was rarely just about the pain and its pleasures. Their relationship was dark, twisted, perhaps even sick, but surely there had to be more than just what Azer had showed her?

Or maybe not. Maybe that’s why Adria betrayed them all. Maybe Nikolaus made her crazy.

“Do you remember anything about that time, Mikhail?”

He paused, eyes watchful and compelling with their indescribable mixture of longing and shame. “No. Maybe. I’ve been told that history so often that I don’t know if my imagination has filled in the blanks or if I’m really remembering things that have happened.”

“So the DeMontiers hate the First Mother. They hated me just for being human and that was before they knew about who I am.”

“Yes.”

“What else?”

Katherine waited for more. He didn’t disappoint.

“We weren’t looked at very fondly, as you know. You were blamed, unfairly, for my defection. It didn’t matter that I had left a year before I ever met you. You were seen as the interloper. You were the reason why I wouldn’t come back. You were the human whore who had stolen their Alpha.” Self-mockery tinged the last word.

“And then I became one for real.”

“Katharina, that doesn’t matter.”

“I still say that’s debatable.” She crossed her arms. “We already had this conversation though. So let’s keep going.”

“Being with you again would mean total chaos for them. They saw you as beneath them. Even though leaving you was the reason for my broken heart, they blamed you for that too.”

“Great. No matter what it’s all my fault. I’m like the wicked step-mother in this story. Mikhail, how did you ever think that we could work knowing this?”

“Easy. I’m not giving you up.”

“And I say easy there, cowboy. I’m not exactly up for grabs for you anyways. The DeMontiers can rest easy.”

“Katherine.”

She responded to the chill in his voice. “What?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Sure it is.”

“No. It’s not.” Mikhail looked so very sad. “I don’t think it was an accident.”

“What?”

“The mountain. I don’t think it was an accident.”

Katherine drew back, feeling gravity work against Mikhail. “Why not?”

“I think someone tried to kill you. For me.”

“Someone from your pack?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she sighed and followed it with a whistle. “It’s pretty heavy there, Mikhail.”

“Do you see why I don’t want you to leave by yourself?”

“If what you say is true won’t I be in more danger staying with you?”

“I can protect you.” He said this with all the instinctual arrogance of one of his species.

“Mikhail, why do you think that a DeMontier did this? How can you be so sure?”

He stepped closer. When she didn’t move, he ghosted his hand over her cheek. “Katharina?”

“Yes?”

“You know I love you? Before you answer, don’t judge me by my actions then but what you feel now.”

She nodded briskly.

“I love you beyond reason. I trust you with everything that makes any of this worth it. I don’t see you as inferior. I never did.”

Katherine clenched her fists. Not in anger but against the overwhelming urge to touch him. “But?”

“But I have to find this out in my way. I have to do things that will be foreign to you and just as infuriating.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything more.”

“No. Not for now. Maybe not ever.”

Katherine didn’t need to read him to see the suffering this caused. She knew it hurt Mikhail terribly to believe one of his blood could be guilty of treason against him.

Especially because they loved him as much, if not more, than he loved her.

Years ago she would’ve pushed. She would’ve picked at him, demanding answers before just taking them for herself. Katherine liked to think that maybe she’d grown since nearly dying on a mountain. She hoped she’d become someone better. She prayed she’d follow through on her promises to Azer.

Therefore, Katherine nodded her head and replied, “All right, Mikhail. We’ll do things your way.”

“You mean you’ll come with me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“No.”

He looked and felt more than a little dumbfounded.

She couldn’t resist teasing, “What? Did you think I was going to stupidly fight you and say, ‘Oh, werewolves are trying to kill me? Well, I’m not going to let a man take care of me because I’m a strong woman and I don’t need anybody’s help! I’ll fight them on my own because I’m just too stupid to live!’”

Mikhail barked in a short burst of laughter. “Maybe something like that.”

“No, not for me. I may have been suicidal but I’m not that crazy to become dog food.”

“They wouldn’t eat you. Just tear out your throat.”

“Only if they were interested in making it quick.”

“True.”

“You werewolves are pretty coldblooded.”

“You have no idea.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“I can’t see where this is heading. As long as I’m dangerous to you we can’t risk spending that much time together. Which is probably best considering…well, you know. I can’t risk touching and hurting you. Anyway, how long is this supposed to go on?”

“Until you’re safe.”

“What if that means never?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I have forever.”

Katherine sighed in amused exasperation. “So you’re willing to shut yourself up in a box with me on a shelf forever?”

“If need be.” Mikhail picked up the bag containing her coat. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She took one step before halting. “Don’t you need to tell your…them…that we’re leaving.”

“I already did.” He gestured with one sweeping hand. “Telepathy.”

“Ah.” She walked out of the room and began the eager journey away from antiseptic walls and sickly patients. Katherine kept her walk easy and loose when all she really wanted to do was run the hell of there.

Hospitals sickened her. She hated them. That would never change.

The sliding glass doors beckoned. Katherine rubbed her wrist, fingers searching for the plastic catch to free her from septic identification. She undid the wristband just when she cleared the doors. Already she felt anonymous. Katherine liked it.

“Over here.”

She noticed Mikhail standing a few feet over to the left.

“The car’s this way, Katharina.”

Katherine nodded and made her way in his direction. Her feet slowed, unsure as to exactly what her easy agreement to his keeping would cost her.
“It’s okay, Katharina.” He spoke without turning around. Mikhail continued his easy navigation of the rather large parking lot. “You don’t have to be afraid of me or what I’ll do. I will respect you. I swear it.”

Katherine shifted her mental wards. She had allowed her thoughts to slip into his. Not very wise considering their impasse.

Old habits die hard if they die at all.

Although she was careful to keep the distance between them, Katherine wasn’t as immune to Mikhail as she wanted him to think. Staring at his back, she found herself making company with melancholy. He was different. Open, remorseful, and completely without shame. It should’ve sickened her, repulsed her instinctive need for strength.

Instead, she saw what she always saw—a kindred soul.

Mikhail was as broken as she was. He had allowed himself to become just as much a puppet of his own suffering as she had. This Mikhail DeMontier wanted love so badly even though he believed all he deserved was hate and abuse.

His world adored him, seeing Mikhail as everything they were not and feeling even more enamored because of his acceptance. Katherine was not immune. She expected the sharp lashing of his contempt for what she had become.

Yet he’s accepted me. He’s accepted my flaws because he believes his are so overwhelming that they decimate everything else.

Mikhail had never been anything but kind and loving to me before then. Remote, distant sometimes but he always reassured me when he got in a mood. Then…he pushed me away. He acted in a way that could leave no room for doubt that he was done with me. Mikhail became everything I ever feared.

Katherine had suffered that betrayal. It had warped her. She had forced herself to forget everything he had been since she had met him. She had relied on the hatred to define who Mikhail DeMontier was.

It doesn’t take back the fact that I never deserved what he did to me. It doesn’t change it…but I can understand a little better. I can understand that despite everything Mikhail’s just a man. He’s just as capable of making mistakes as anybody else. Just like me.

Azer, you were wrong. I’m not better than he is. He’s not better than me. And we’re both not better than you.

Mikhail stopped by a dark sedan. It was sensible and nondescript; dark exterior matched by a darker interior. Anonymous. Safe.

Katherine bobbed her head in thanks when he opened the passenger door. She caught sight of his unblemished hand when he closed it shut behind her. Katherine’s stomach clenched with guilt and more than a bit of self-disgust.

I did something that can’t be undone either. He hurt me on the inside and I hurt him on the outside. We’re both scarred and in love.

Mikhail slid in beside her. He smiled once before turning on the car. “Do you want the radio on?”

“Yes.”

The music couldn’t quite fill in the spaces of their awkward silence. Katherine turned her body sideways and propped her chin on her raised fist. “Mikhail, where are we going?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you knew. We’re going to the tow company to get your car.”

“Then what?”

“Then what what?”

She returned the smile she heard in his voice. It had been a phrase for them. The most she had ever gotten to was fifteen whats before breaking out into hysterical laughter. The urge to give into those innocent moments was too tempting.

“Then what what what?”

“Then what what what what?” Mikhail chortled. His beautiful eyes lightened with unfettered joy. He looked like the man she met. He looked happy.

Katherine’s smile faded.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Happiness died. Mikhail’s mournful expression aged him immediately. “I didn’t know how.”

“Didn’t know how or didn’t want to?” Katherine asked without spite. Her voice held resigned curiosity, almost as if the answer couldn’t change her perception of those events.

“Definitely wanted to but didn’t know how.”

“You were very cruel.”

“I know.”

“You attacked my insecurities. You knew how I afraid I was of rejection. You went after it.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Quick kill. It was supposed to kill all feelings you had for me. I thought you’d move on that much faster. You were only seventeen. Too young to really feel love—or so I thought I understood. I didn’t.”

“No. You didn’t.” Katherine turned her attention back to the passenger side window. “I loved you, Mikhail, more than anything in the world.”

“I wish you had known it then.”

“So do I.”

Katherine’s vision blurred. The urge to wallow in hedonistic forgetfulness became unbearable. She shifted, legs sliding against one another in habitual readiness. She heard Mikhail inhale sharply. No doubt he smelled her empty arousal.

“Katharina?”

She felt too weary to be ashamed. “It’ll pass. Try to ignore it.”

“Why?”

“Why ignore it or why do I want to fuck?” Katherine clarified crudely.

“Why are you aroused?”

Katherine’s caustic gaze assessed his perfect profile. She smirked. “Don’t take it personal. It has nothing to do with you. Or rather it has nothing to do with anybody but my messed up coping abilities.”

“You weren’t like that before.”

“How do you know? Maybe that accounted for why we spent the majority of our time naked.”

“I like to think I had a hand in that too.”

“Yeah, but I seem to remember that my sex drive was higher than yours.” She spared him a wicked smile.

“Only because I had to do all the work. You were lucky—you just got to lay there and have fun.”

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” Strangely, in spite of the conversation and the subsequent carnal memories, Katherine felt her self-destructive urges begin to dissipate.

“Very much so.” Mikhail’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He kept his stare fixed on the road before them. It was obvious that neither were fooled by his apparent attention. However, both were surprised by his next words.

“I wish I didn’t love you. I wish I meant everything I said back then.”

Katherine inhaled sharply. Agony vied with breathing, making it so she could barely do one without the other. “What do you expect me to say to that?”

“Nothing.” Mikhail cleared his throat. “No, that’s not true.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She drew herself in, forgoing the temptation to probe his emotions and decipher the truth for herself. Perhaps, that’s what Mikhail wanted her to do just so he wouldn’t have to say whatever was behind his cryptic callousness.

Not gonna happen.

“Katharina?”

“What?”

“You think the worst of me now, don’t you?”

“Not anymore than I already did.”

Pained laughter crept forth from his taut mouth. “I don’t do anything to endear myself to you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Even so I mean what I said, Katharina. I really wish I didn’t love you. Remember that.”

“Sure.” The flippant word couldn’t disguise her pain but Mikhail didn’t attempt to ease it for Katherine.

They spent the rest of the ride in silence.

Image Credit: txpotato @ Stock.Xchng

Previous | Next

CHAPTER TWO
“What’s In A Name?”

Innocence leaves like a breath.
Desire colors them both.
Tragedy has been given life.

Spring 1995
Southeastern United States

“My name is Mikhail DeMontier. What’s yours?”

They were only seven words.

Seven separate thoughts that became a harmless, yet friendly, greeting between strangers. How could something so benign be anything but one of a million passing moments?

Unless these seven words themselves were one a million…

One in a million tears.

One in a million regrets.

One in a million possible lives.

Echoes from another time, another fate, had tried in vain to keep this tragedy from occurring, but only one knew of the seven words that would destroy their useless façade.

“She’ll be safe. No one will ever think to look here. The DeMontiers will never be able to harm her. Why are you so silent? We’ve done it. We changed what’s to come.”

“Nothing ever grows from deceit except more lies.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. But it’s enough that I do.”

So until those seven words had found life, Mikhail DeMontier was simply a sovereign running away from his crown.

And until those seven words had found life, Katherine Merror was simply a seventeen-year-old girl fighting to be common.

Therefore, until those seven words had found life, both could pretend to be something other than what they really were—pawns in their own misbegotten game of reincarnation.

Years later, lifetimes afterwards, both would wonder how seven words could have so much power. But in this moment, in this existence, seven words had never been so innocent.

“My name is Mikhail DeMontier. What’s yours?”

Oblivious to her fate, Katherine drew to an awkward stop. A living wave continued to course around her, impatiently burbling to reach a consumer’s destination of clearance items and reduced prices.

Why is someone standing in front of me? Wait. It’s a guy and he’s TALKING to me.

The stranger was tall, towering over Katherine by nearly a foot. Her assessing eyes quickly traveled up the youthful chest, noting the strength peeking from beneath a baggy blue shirt. She felt the pounding of his heart long before she saw the fluttering in his neck.

He’s so nervous. Because of me?

Curiosity stretched forth an insistent claw and pierced Katherine’s neutral state. Her mind suddenly hungered for a connection. Prodded by desires she couldn’t control, Katherine found herself unable to dismiss this boy named Mikhail DeMontier.

I want to know him. Just a little. I won’t go that far. I just want to see what he feels. Anyways, I haven’t done it to anyone for over a year. But it isn’t right to just do this…is it?

An indescribable sense of longing stirred the shadows in her heart. Katherine grappled between her temptation and conscience, wondering again how she came to be.

It wouldn’t be so bad if I had psychic powers that could actually DO something other than leave me drained and filled with emotions that don’t even belong to me. What a waste. It’s almost not worth using. Almost.

Once, Katherine believed she was normal, that everyone could see what was felt. However, silence and blindness became her legacy when she’d overheard her parents whispering THE word.

“Empath. It says here they’re persons gifted with extraordinary perception of human emotions.”

“We can’t tell anybody about this. Not even Pastor Davis.”

“Why not?”

“Because I think the Church would say it isn’t a divine gift but rather a curse from the devil.”

Maybe it was true. After all, most people would rather burn into nothingness than allow Katherine to violate them.
She didn’t speculate. She knew.

“Do you think that Kathy is possessed?”

“Possessed? Why…why are you asking? Did something happen?”

“No, but the more I think about it, the more I feel this just isn’t natural. She knows things that she shouldn’t.”

“I know. I hate to say it, but sometimes it just makes me uneasy to have her around.”

“Could this be why she was given up for adoption? Do you think that somehow her birth parents KNEW?

Katherine shook off the perpetual sadness related to Carolyn and Kevin Merror. Instead, her reddened mouth smirked in reckless glee.

I’ll never be a saint so why deny myself the pleasures that come with Hell? I want to know him and know him I will.

Katherine focused her entire being on Mikhail DeMontier. The living river surging around them immediately disappeared. Only the occasional brush of clothing or laughter gave clue to its existence.

Talk to me, Mikhail DeMontier.

Katherine watched in giddy pleasure as colors pulsed brilliantly to life. Her eyes glittered with euphoria as vibrant tints carefully layered themselves in a language only an Empath could understand.

Red for passion, gray for confusion, yellow for embarrassment, and myriad shades between defined a familiar collection of adolescent emotion. She blinked once. The world returned to its neutral palette, making Katherine regret her forced emotional myopia. However, she knew all she needed in less than a moment.

I got all your pretty colors.

Katherine smiled secretly beneath her serious stare.

He’s attracted to me and scared I’ll turn him away. I probably will but…

Katherine never finished her thought. Instead, she looked up. And just like that, the silken cord of Fate wrapped itself around her little heart. With only a minuscule whisper, Katherine Merror’s entire world came tumbling down.

Ah…

High cheekbones, dark brows, and an almost delicate jaw came together to form a picture of arresting male beauty. Blond hair kissed his pale temple, continuously falling forward to draw attention to his exotic eyes. Bright like jade, they stared into hers, whispering the question asked only seconds before.

My name is Mikhail DeMontier. What’s yours?

“Katherine Merror.” She found herself saying the words without conscious thought. Frowning, Katherine felt the emotional currents between them change course. Suddenly, she saw what others wouldn’t.

He almost doesn’t look human. Her heart thudded at the prospect. What if he’s not? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve come across someone like that…

Empath. Devil. Unholy.

“Katherine. It’s a good name. I like it.”

A faint accent curled his vowels. She found it as pleasant as she found his arrogance irritating. Thoughts of his possible genetics vanished beneath a slow burn of anger.

“Well, it’s nice to know you approve of my name.” When provoked, Katherine’s soft, girlish voice could be as menacing as any scream without raising one decibel.

Superiority was just the impetus to provoke her.

Prick. Who does he think he is?

Something passing for mirth lightened his verdant orbs. Katherine watched his hand slip into his jeans pocket and come back empty. Although his expression remained the same, indescribable sadness brushed across her skin like a physical whisper.

What was he looking for that made me feel as if his heart just broke?

With the tragic emotions surrounding Mikhail, she expected him to drift away and become just another anonymous ripple lost in the river flowing around them. Instead, Mikhail DeMontier did something feel people could.

He surprised her.

“Would you like to get something to eat with me?”

Katherine’s lips parted. She could taste Mikhail’s manic joy. Her insides warmed, burning away the tragic melancholy of before. Katherine hummed with displaced giddiness. None of the emotions were hers. She liked it.

There’s something about Mikhail that makes me feel less lonely…

Katherine looked away but her voice managed to betray her.

“I don’t know you.”

It wasn’t a rejection and they both knew it.

“I know. That’s why you should let me buy you something to eat.”

His beautiful but cocky smile laid painless waste to Katherine’s defenses. Whereas his mannerism still irked her, it now made her want to smile too. Katherine’s stomach trembled with a sensation beyond hunger.

What an odd little boy I’ve found today. He’s different. Like me. Why?

She lifted her hand and pointed in the direction of the Food Court.

“Okay, Mikhail.”

Notes of pure happiness left his throat, calling to Katherine has potently as any siren. She looked at him once before walking ahead.

I want to know his secrets and then I’ll let him go.

The seven words succeeded all too well.

Innocent to the ruthlessness of Fate, Mikhail followed her lead, content with this small but important triumph.

She said yes. Thank you, God!

Mikhail’s body radiated proprietary intent as he walked behind Katherine. He’d already spent the last hour following her; it didn’t seem like a burden to continue. However, if Katherine thought his method odd, she did well to hide it. Her legs cut an elegant swath through the crowd, leading Mikhail with an unconscious dominance he found extremely desirable.

She’s strong. Good.

The anonymous crowd flowed, picked apart and discarded of threat by the instincts of this hidden predator. Mikhail let the overwhelming rhythms of life wash over him before focusing on the brilliant beacon a few paces ahead.

There! I hear Katherine’s heart. It’s singing to me.

His large body trembled with acute fascination. Mikhail leaned forward, sniffing her delicately. He bit his lip and immediately suppressed a whine. Her scent made him dizzy inside. Innocence whetted his lust but there was something else too.

Something broken.

What happened to make you feel so empty?

Compassion only strengthened the indescribable bond he felt for this little girl. Burnt amber pulsed in time with each step, turning Mikhail’s stare into a covetous canvas.

Katherine looked over her shoulder again. Mikhail simply dropped his gaze and smiled.

My blood is too close to the surface. She’ll know what I’m not.

Reaching the Food Court, they chose to stand away from the claustrophobic crush of bodies.

“Do you know what you want?” he asked, delightful accent curling around each syllable.

“Not really.” She turned her head, not wanting him to see the effect his voice had on her. Katherine’s eyes skimmed over the garishly lit signs. A familiar green, white, and red banner saved them both from indecision. “Maybe pizza?”

“I like pizza.”

“Me too.”

Pleasure danced along the surface of her invisible skin. His intense emotions were penetrating the wall she kept up.

I need to be careful. I could get so used to this.

Sobered by her thoughts, Katherine briskly stepped into line and kept quiet. She felt him take his place behind her, just a tiny bit too close for her comfort. Katherine looked over her shoulder, mouth ready to drop a subtle warning, when she crashed into his gaze.

The world turned upside down once more.

“Katherine?”

“Hmm?”

His eyes kept her locked. They were beautiful in a vicious sort of way. Kindness lit his eyes to a blinding emerald but Katherine just knew they could turn to chips of green ice on a principled turn. Mikhail was dangerous to her and her way of life. He was too many colors. He was the frenzy of fireworks blazing across the night sky, leaving her eager to see it all and not miss a single shattering display.

Mikhail was dangerous. If she was smart she’d walk away. Right. Now.

“Katherine?”

“What?” she whispered in lethargy.

“The line is moving.”

“I know.” She refused to look away and dared him to do it instead.

This time confusion watered down the color of his eyes. “Do you want something else?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Okay, let’s just get out of the way then.”

“No.” Katherine turned around and stepped forward to place her order. Her mouth spoke the dull, utilitarian words, but her body hummed with dark delight. She couldn’t help dipping into his crayon box of emotions and coming out with greedy hands filled to the brim.

She could paint with him for hours and still not be done.

But what held more importance was this—Mikhail was unsure of her yet unwilling to walk away.

Unwilling to walk away. No one feels that for me. Ever.

“Okay, your total is $4.85.”

Katherine dug into her pocket, ready to pull out her money, when Mikhail passed a bill over her head. Looking up at him, she insisted, “I had it.”

“No, I asked to buy you something to eat. Not to watch you buy something to eat.”

Katherine pursed her mouth, looked away, and shrugged. “Okay. Works for me.”

She dutifully slid down, crimson tray beneath damp fingers, all the while listening to Mikhail place his order.

What am I doing here with him? This is crazy, crazy, crazy! I don’t know him at all…he could be a serial killer, rapist, psycho…

A hiss of plastic against steel warned her too late that he had once again encroached upon her space. Mikhail’s arm brushed against hers and the world ignited into vivid color once again.

Confidence…protectiveness…lust…curiosity…I feel so good, so very, very good. I feel like I do anything. I feel free. I feel new and clean. I feel like running far, far away only to come right back again. I feel like fucking until I can’t move…I feel all this and none of it’s me.

Katherine slid away, breaking her dizzying connection with Mikhail. She kept her distance, moving a fraction of an inch in tandem with him. She accepted her plate and drink before dashing off.

I’m losing myself so quickly in him. I’ve never felt such a connection with anyone this fast. It’s like I’m him and the scary thing is that it feels so right.

The pavilion suddenly seemed claustrophobic. There were too many people and too many emotions burning through her. Katherine needed to get outside. Without noting if Mikhail would see where she went, Katherine forced her feet to walk calmly through the nearest door.

Fresh air vied with perfume, smoke, and body odor. Katherine sucked it all in anyways. The deep breaths cleared her mind. Her fascination waned with distance and she wondered if she should just dump her food and leave. She stared at the parking lot with something akin to longing and disgust.

I’m not a coward and that’s exactly what I’d be if I run away.

She spied a dingy cropping of tables and displaced chairs. Walking to one furthest away from the crowd, Katherine sat down. She had no sooner looked up when Mikhail pulled back a chair across from her.

“Napkin?”

Katherine took the proffered rectangle and murmured her thanks. The pizza slice no longer looked so appetizing. Still she made an effort to take a bite while making a bigger effort to ignore the man staring at her.

Why is he staring at me? Doesn’t he care how rude that is? Or is something else?

Temptation struck. All she had to do was drop the veil and she’d know exactly what was hidden beneath that pretty face.

The world already looks that much grayer than it did before I saw him…and that’s why I can’t do this. I should hurry up and eat so I can go without being too much of a bitch.

With that glum decision made, Katherine focused on everything but Mikhail. On some level she knew she was still coming off as a complete bitch, but it couldn’t matter.

No wonder I’m a head case. I can’t even deal with normal interactions. Why am I making such a big deal out of this?

After several agonizing minutes crawled by, Mikhail apparently felt comfortable enough to take the plunge.

“So how old are you?”

Katherine looked away from the milling crowd. She wondered again for the hundredth time what she was doing with this stranger.

Why did I say yes to coming with him? I don’t even know this guy.

“Okay, that’s a pretty nosy question, so how about I tell you how old I am first?” Receiving no response other than a slow blink, Mikhail gamely plowed ahead, uttering the first of many future lies. He ignored the fact she was obviously uncomfortable with him. “I’m twenty-four.”

Great. Now I’m really going to come off as a baby.

Katherine played with the straw in her soda. Nervously, she pushed down the bits of ice, hoping to find the courage to extract herself from this awkward situation. Despite her frosty façade, she did care about what he thought. She didn’t want Mikhail to walk away and think she had just used him for a free meal.

I should give him back his money. I’ll do it before he leaves.

Mikhail cupped his chin with his hand and leaned forward. “How about I guess your age?” Not waiting for a reply, Mikhail took on the appearance of a man deep in thought. “Hmm…now how do I go about this? If I guess too low you’ll think I’m a perv, but if I go too high then you’ll slap me right out of this chair.”

Katherine smiled and a bubble of laughter fought its way free.

He is kind of a perv to be talking to me.

His green eyes twinkled with delight. “I CAN make you smile. Now, if I can get you to talk to me, then my day will be complete!”

She cleared her throat and the burgeoning grin melted away. Katherine’s fingers continued to fiddle with the plastic straw.

This is so embarrassing! Why can’t I even answer a simple question! Argh!

“Oh, no. Quick, Mikhail—think of something. She almost laughed at the threat of your bodily harm. If you do something incredibly stupid and get hurt, maybe she’ll smile again.” Looking around him, he spied the metal railing a few feet away and came upon a solution.

Katherine watched him rise in determination. She realized Mikhail’s reckless intention of following through on his words. “Seventeen!” she cried as she rushed to her feet. “I’m seventeen.”

A crimson blush immediately flooded Katherine’s face. However, she held his penetrating gaze with her own, wordlessly daring him to mock her for her age.

A playful smirk graced his lips. It enchanted her despite the blatant masculine triumph it obviously represented.

“Good. I was right.”

“Right?”

“Yep. Right.”

She frowned and sat down. “How’d you guess?”

“I didn’t. I just knew.” He resumed his seated position. “Now that the dreaded first conversation has just taken place, do you want to eat now?”

Katherine’s lip curled in a combination of befuddlement and admiration. “Actually I do.”

I feel like such a load has been taken off me. I can hang out with him. What was wrong with me before—making such a big deal out of nothing? There’s no rule that says I can’t spend time with Mikhail, right? After all, it’s not like he’s proposing marriage. He just asked to buy me something to eat. No biggie. Calm down, Katherine. Just do whatever you’d normally do at home. Eat like a pig and pass out.

Conscience satisfied, Katherine took a large bite and moaned, “Oh, this is so good.” She devoured the rest and sucked down every bit of soda before leaning back with a happy sigh.

Mikhail reached forward with napkin in hand. “You’ve got some sauce on your face.”

She was too content and relaxed to move. Her eyes shut and she bit her lips to keep in a yawn. “You mind getting it for me?” He didn’t answer but Katherine soon felt a brush across her chin. “Thanks.”

“Do you want me to get you some ice cream?”

“No, maybe later.” She slit an eye open. Mikhail’s face was split in an infectious grin. She was unable to keep from returning it. The previous circle of doubt and dismay had vacated her spirit and Katherine found the unusual freedom intoxicating.

“Do I bore you that much, Katherine?”

His teasing inspired her to smile again. “Nope. I’m just full and sleepy. Let me just rest a bit and I swear I’ll be good as new.”

“Do you mind if I switch seats?”

She waved a hand. “Feel free, Mikhail.” She closed her eyes again and leaned her head back. A chair scraped against the concrete before another repeated the same sound. Katherine’s right arm tingled in pleasure. She didn’t have to look to know he had moved next to her.

The minutes slid by in companionable silence. She was more fatigued from traipsing through his emotions than inhaling a humongous slice of pizza. Obviously, it wasn’t on the share category of conversations.

He probably thinks I’m odd either way. Rather be thought of as a pig than a freak. Although, there was something not quite human about him…so I guess I wouldn’t be the only freak here.

Katherine’s neck rolled to the side. She peeked at Mikhail, somewhat expecting him to have fallen to the lure of a quick nap. Instead, his eyes were scanning the sidewalks and parking lots in methodical succession. Her gaze slid down. Mikhail had moved his chair in a way that effectively blocked her in the corner.

“Mikhail?”

He turned to her with a smile. “Yes?”

“You looking for something in particular?”

“No. Just looking.”

Katherine sat up. She didn’t even have to make an effort to read him to know he was lying.

He’s got secrets. He’s not exactly like them but more like me. Interesting.

She reached for her cup and shook it. She sipped the last bit of melted soda ice with a frown.

“Here. I still have lots left.”

Katherine eyed the drink in his hand. Sharing germs wasn’t usually the first option between strangers—not that she’d mind consuming another piece of him.

All right, girl. Show ‘em what you got.

“Thank you.” She took the plastic cup without hesitation or wiping off his straw. Katherine kept her gaze trained on his. Mikhail didn’t disappoint. After she handed him back his drink he placed his lips exactly where hers had been.

Katherine’s cheeks flushed rose. Not out of discomfort, embarrassment, or any one of a plethora of emotions ready to assault a teenage girl. Instead, something else made its ubiquitous home deep inside. Desire motivated Katherine’s coloring, making the profane exquisitely possible.

While in high school she had heard girls gossiping about sex and had usually listened with more than a polite ear. She hadn’t been immune to the giggles and sighs that drifted from behind the bleachers or in the far back of the library.

However, Katherine hadn’t ever truly been tempted to go there with any guy during school. She’d had a few dates with friends wondering if there could be more. Not surprisingly those ended with the obligatory, “I had a nice time/Yeah, me too,” kind of moments but nothing else.

Until now, Katherine had been content with just focusing on her life and problems, always rationalizing her issues were more than enough to keep busy.

Now was an entirely different creature.

Now was the clichéd apple, garden, and serpent all rolled in one.

Now was the moment Katherine could chose to run, make him run, or choose an option that had never been on the board before.

“I don’t have to be home for a couple more hours, Mikhail. Do you want to hang out here with me until then?”

Mikhail glanced down for a moment. His mouth drew in on itself. He blew out a discreet puff of air. Lust clouded the air between himself and Katherine. His wolven nature demanded he press the young girl to give him what her body was so prettily displaying.

Easy boy. Different time and different rules.

He blinked once. His blood receded as did his teeth and claws. Instinct made peace with logic, knowing in the end they had to work together to get Katherine.

She doesn’t know what she’s offering and I won’t be bastard by taking advantaging of that.

“Sure. Any place you want to go to first?”

She shook her head. “Nah.

“All right.” Mikhail stood up and pulled her chair back. He stepped aside so Katherine could pass. He hoped she hadn’t noticed his instinctual need to protect by placing himself between her and the crowd milling past. “Here, let me get that,” he asked while taking the tray from her hand. Mikhail noted her tiny smile and found himself eager to be responsible for many more.

After throwing away their trash and depositing the trays, Mikhail walked back to Katherine and lightly touched her back. He prayed she’d receive his touch favorably. Her small shudder did not go unnoticed for it echoed his.

She’s already inside me. I want her so badly.

Katherine looked over her shoulder. Her golden eyes darkened into what he knew as lust. “You ready?”

“Lead the way, Katherine.”

Mikhail kept pace with her, fingers itching to do more than rest on the middle of her back. Her skin scorched his, imprinting the truth of her scent and essence upon him. Mikhail’s gaze burned with conquest and adoration.

She’s so…I don’t know. Her moods are impossible to track for long. She’s inexperienced but more. Skittish and bold.

They continued walking, an attractive young couple watchful of their step and considerate of others. Civilized, polite, normal.

And a complete fabrication.

Mikhail bent his head and took several deep, yet discreet, breaths. Katherine’s delectable flavor invaded his senses, threatening to decimate the human façade he wore.

I want to taste her, stretch her until she’s filled with me. I want to make her cry, make her crazed, make her anything I want her to be. I want to fuck her into submission and worship her for letting me do it. I want it all.

Katherine shook inside. His touch enthralled her, throwing her into the middle of an explosion of sensation. She siphoned off his emotions, letting them ricochet inside her until she had difficulty distinguishing his from hers.

He fills me up till I feel like I’m going to burst. And I still want more.

Katherine bit her lip, pinching it with languorous pressure. Desire, thick and heavy, flowed between them in indivisible strands. Madly, she wondered if she could be one of those girls to take him to a hotel room. Katherine smothered a spurt of nervous laughter.

I can imagine it now—“Mikhail, I’m so hot for you and I know you are for me too. How? Oh, never mind that. Say, why don’t you like take me to a Holiday Inn and fuck me until I can’t walk. Sound good? Cool!”

Katherine looked about her with a heavy-lidded gaze. The mall pulsed with color. It was a riotous feast for her starved senses. She hummed with giddiness, wanting to reach out and sample a bit from everyone, despite being engorged with Mikhail.

She giggled as she passed by a small child. The little girl’s joy in her rapidly melting ice cream infected her, making her remember simple happiness. Katherine skipped past a scowling old woman. No, no need to skim through that one’s negative emotions. Instead, she lighted on the next couple. They seemed so happy and cheerful. Katherine wanted a little taste. Although she walked past them within a second, she wanted to wallow in their pleasure so allowed her arm to brush by the woman’s.

Katherine immediately clasped her hands over her mouth and laughed.

Oh, my God! They’re lesbians! I just thought they were friends! Now I know what it’s like to not be able to wait to go home and have sex with my girlfriend! I never knew a woman’s stuff could be so beautiful.

She risked a glance over her shoulder and noted the small signs of their intimate relationship.

“What is it? Did you see somewhere you want to stop at?”

Katherine’s panicked gaze shot up to Mikhail’s. She had been so intent on indulging herself she had forgotten he was still there. Her feet stumbled to an inelegant stop. “Uh, no, no. I just thought I saw someone I knew.”

Mikhail’s eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled a bit. “Really?”

“Hmm. Yeah.” Katherine didn’t need to dip into his feelings to see the doubt and confusion cluttering his mind. Feeling guilty at being caught in a lie, she started castigating herself for being so reckless.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now he’ll think I’m just some big liar who can’t even tell the truth…which is true. I can’t ever really tell the truth.

Katherine blinked and her emotional membrane shrunk back into gray. Lights out. Color gone. She retreated inside herself, neatly severing her connection with the world and with Mikhail. Katherine managed a smile despite the void spreading like an ink stain over her psyche. “Did you have somewhere you wanted to go?”

“No.” His eyes darkened with enigmatic emotion, taunting Katherine to open herself back up.

“Oh, okay.” She walked away and turned the corner, unsure if Mikhail still followed. Her back ached from the lack of imprint from his large hand. Katherine resisted the urge to wrap her arms around her waist. The loss of sensation was worse after experiencing the sweetness of touch. To say Katherine was starved for affection was a sad, pitiful understatement.

My parents sure as hell won’t touch me, not even when necessary. They’re so afraid of what I’ll see and feel. They’re afraid of what I’ll know. Just like those women would feel if they had any clue I knew what they did at home. What I do is wrong.

Katherine gritted her teeth. She rooted around, looking for some sliver of emotion that could fuel anything other than self-loathing. She came up empty. Her haunted stare flitted over the living stream of people flowing past. She cursed herself for being so alien. Once more Katherine wondered if Empath was the correct moniker. She considered herself to be more of an emotional succubus. She fed off of others but no matter how much she consumed it never filled the vacant wasteland inside.

I feel everything and nothing.

It was no wonder Katherine didn’t allow herself to do much of the first and lived everything in the second.

I was right. Mikhail’s dangerous to me. He makes me think there’s a chance for me to be a little normal. I’m not. I’m a freak.

A warm hand grasped her arm. It pulled her into a hallway, out from the crush. Katherine allowed herself to be maneuvered against the wall. She noted how Mikhail shielded her with his large body. He feathered his fingertips against her rounded cheek. She blinked in apathy.

“Katherine, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Despite the brusque command, his hand continued to pet her. “I know something’s wrong. Did I do something to offend you? If so, I apologize. I’m very sorry.”

Katherine shook her head. Pity unfurled, finding a way to break through the barren landscape Katherine had retreated. “No, you didn’t do anything, Mikhail. You’ve been wonderful.” She realized with a bit of surprise she meant every word. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s the matter then? Did someone else offend you?”

She shook her head.

Mikhail ducked closer. His hand dropped to her shoulder, fingertips still caressing invisible patterns into her skin. “Then what is it?”

Katherine blinked owlishly, unsure of how to respond without lying. Oddly enough she found she very much wanted to respect his wishes for honesty. “Sometimes I get sad…I can’t say for no reason…but I can’t explain why.”

Mikhail’s beautiful gaze softened. “Oh, Katharina. I understand.”

She missed the lovely rolling syllables of his new name for her. “Yeah, right.” Katherine’s cheeks flushed with hot color. She didn’t mean to sound so spiteful and ungrateful but the thought that he understood was impossible. She risked touching his chest for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

Mikhail accepted her apology with a poignant smile. “Sorrow is an oppressive mistress to keep. She takes everything, never satisfied with living in a part of you—she wants it all.”

Bemused, Katherine found his speech odd in a wise, delightful way.

“She consumes you, letting you gather just enough strength so she can steal that away too. She keeps everyone away. She perches on your heart, making you think no one will ever be able to see YOU. She infects you until you cannot look around you without see HER.”

“Yes,” she breathed, fascinated.

Mikhail sighed. “She taints your view, making you feel like the stranger in a happy world that you can never be part of. Sorrow is addictive, oppressive, and terrible in her power.”

“How do you let her go?”

Mikhail shrugged. He trailed his fingers across her neck. “I don’t know.”

Katherine’s sight bled at the corners. She swallowed back the thick burn seeking to rob her of speech. “Sorrow seems to be a bitch to you too, Mikhail.”

He suddenly seemed too old and tired to continue standing, much less comfort her. “Let’s just say I’ve been acquainted with her for quite some time.”

Katherine sprinted out of her safe habits and poisoned comfort zone. She ran without fear, determined to be new with this beautiful boy who could be an old man. She arched up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered with gratitude. Cheeks flushed, eyes shiny, she stood there daring Sorrow to intrude on this moment with Mikhail.

He stared at Katherine in astonishment. His hand lifted away from her to touch his cheek. “You’re welcome.” He smiled and Katherine knew her world would never be the same.

Mikhail…

Her heart thudded in anxious beats. Transfixed, she kept her gaze trained on his. She had wondered if he was the same as her, unwanted and on the fringe of the world. She had allowed herself to be distracted from the question. Now, she knew.

Green and gold pulsed in time with her heart, flickering back and forth in an unnatural position of dominance. Katherine was positive Mikhail had no idea what secrets his eyes were giving away.

What are you?

Katherine crept forth from behind her shield. She moved forward, feeling the pull between them take on epic proportions. “Mikhail, I’m so glad I met you.” The words fell from her lips with a whispered promise of many more just like it. “You’re amazing.” Nervous laughter trailed the statement, but Katherine didn’t give into the urge to look away.

Mikhail’s stare edged out the verdant color, leaving it to shimmer gold.

Much like Katherine’s golden eye color.

The hum of the outside world provided the backdrop for secret world existing in plain sight. She didn’t have to muster up the courage to touch him again. He cupped the back of her head, tilting her chin up for what had to be a kiss.

Excitement claimed Katherine. She embraced folly, eager to know Mikhail’s true face and hoping to see hers. No longer content with ghostly sentiments, she entered his mind and saw he was so much more.

Forests, deep and gilded with age, rose up. Air heavy with animal, nature, and power entered his lungs. Running…always running.

Katherine’s lungs ached. Mikhail’s long, loping strides became hers.

A bevy of faces, exotic, memorable, and loved stared back. Their tongues lolled in happiness, flitting between humanity and animal.

Her skin itched, almost as if a coat that needed shedding.

Pride and responsibility. A beautiful but worn woman kneeling on the floor. A child kneeling with her. Sadness and regret staining his face with countless tears.

Katherine’s heart twisted with misery. It stained her, never leaving.

A fortress, burnt and abandoned, flashed crimson with the blood of hundreds. Children lay sprawled in the debris, still stuck between transformation. Their haunches dark with fur and rank with blood. Kinsmen slaughtered. Everything in ruins.

The memory spoke of imagination, but its likelihood of reality kept her held deep with unimaginable grief. “It’s my fault,” she whispered aloud, echoing the silent words embroidered across the scene.

“No, never,” Mikhail whispered back. Obviously, he believed she referred to her own private pain, never guessing she gave voice to his.

Another estate, newly made but not viewed with joy. Dark shapes throwing shadows across the manicured grass. Their legs human, their shadows not. Mikhail standing before them, eyes gold like sunrise, spirit darkening like sunset.

The multitude of people bowed their heads in respect. The moon rose overhead, full and luminous with power. Wolves dotted the landscape, heads thrown back with piercing howls. He surveyed them, hearing their adulation and knowing he was unworthy of such devotion.

He was not the Alpha werewolf they needed.

“Oh,” she breathed in child-like wonderment. Katherine stumbled out of his mind. She shook like a proverbial leaf in the wind. The knowledge of who and what Mikhail were obliterated the plain, colorless world. Nothing could ever be the same again. Katherine refused to let it. His precious adored face continued to descend, emphasizing that Katherine had spurred through this memories like a bullet—in less than a heartbeat.

She pursed her lips, anticipating his mouth to seal her fate to his.

You make me dizzy. You make the world sing in color. You’ve turned me inside out, upside down. I’m crazy to trust you but I know that I can. I’ll never betray you, Mikhail DeMontier. I’ll never let you know what I know. I’ll play pretend with you, believe in your secrets, and let you live a lie because I know all about that.

Mikhail pressed his mouth against her forehead. The skin tingled in a way most pleasant. Katherine turned her body into his, needing to keep his touch centered on her. A lifetime passed within a moment and then he pulled away.

His eyes, green with dull normalcy, peered into hers. “I want to see you again.”

“Okay.”

“When?”

Katherine’s fixation returned back to his mouth. She yearned for it, needed it without shame or guilt. She knew that mouth, those lips, his breath belonged to her. “Tomorrow.”

“When?” he repeated, needy and demanding.

She wanted to peel back his lips. She wanted to see his teeth, to see if the fangs of his heritage were hidden beneath. She wanted to feel those teeth scraping against her bare back and everywhere else. She wanted to be devoured by those fangs, picked neatly apart so she would always be part of him. “Breakfast. Across the street. Buffet.”

“What’s your number?”

“Here. I’ll write it down.” Katherine’s fingers fumbled with her purse. She soon had her number written on a scrap piece of paper. She passed it to him before yanking it back with a frown. “You can’t call me yet though.”

“Well, what time should I pick you up?” he asked in curiosity while prying the paper from her tightly clenched fist. She melted at his touch, leaving him to smile in subtle masculine appreciation.

“No.” Katherine tore her attention away from just how that lovely mouth came together and apart.

“Why not?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come to my house just yet.”

Mikhail bit back his frustration. “Okay, but you’ll meet me at the restaurant?”

Katherine wanted to follow through on her temptations of nuzzling his throat with her nose. She never realized how sexy a man’s neck could be. Exposed to all. Vulnerable. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Mikhail’s gaze flashed once more. He stepped back, lessening the crowding of his body on hers. “I’m hungry again. What about you?”

Katherine smiled. “Absolutely. Food Court?”

He returned her gesture. “Sure.” Mikhail held out his hand to her, wanting Katherine to make the next move.

She stared at it for a moment before carefully placing her fingers in his.

It feels so right. He feels so right…

Katherine naively allowed herself to believe something that felt so right had to be. She was too young and inexperienced to know differently. Mikhail wasn’t, but instead of naivety, he clung to blindness. As tightly as he clung to her hand and she to his…

Image Credit: kandy13 @ Stock.Xchng

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