Chapter 68 Claimed By The Duke (2)

Chapter 68 Claimed By The Duke (2)
The grandfather clock in the corner of the room began to chime.
One. Two. Three...
With every loud chime of the clock, my heart beat faster. I walked to the balcony doors and looked out into the night. Below was a steep drop into a roaring river that surrounded the castle. There was no way to escape. No windows to climb through. No secret passage I knew about.
... Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
The last chime echoed through the room and faded into silence.
Then I heard it. My heart skipped a beat. Slow, steady footsteps echoed through the corridor outside. Heavy boots struck against the stone floor.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
My breath caught in my throat. I clutched the ivory silk at my chest as I turned to face the door. The brass handle slowly turned. Then the door opened without a sound.
Duke Tristan stood in the doorway.
Away from the bright grand hall, with only the warm light from the fireplace lighting the room, he looked even more intimidating. His broad shoulders almost filled the doorway.
He had taken off his heavy cloak and now wore only a black, high-collared tunic and dark trousers. His dark hair fell over his forehead, partly hiding his eyes as they slowly looked me over.
He stepped inside and shut the door behind him. The lock clicked into place, and the sound sent a chill down my spine.
“You are trembling, Lady Rosamund.”
I didn’t even realize I was trembling until he said it.
“Would you prefer I lie and say I am not, Your Grace?” I forced myself to say, raising my head higher despite the terror clawing at my throat. “You are a man surrounded by blood and ghosts. It would be foolish of me not to fear you.”
Tristan slowly walked toward me. Every step was slow and steady, like a hunter closing in on its prey. He stopped just a foot away, towering over me. I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eye.
He reached out a long, gloved hand. I flinched, expecting pain, but his leather-clad fingers merely brushed against a strand of loose hair near my cheek, tucking it behind my ear. His touch was surprisingly light, yet ice cold.
“Ghosts?” A faint, dangerous smirk touched the corner of his lips. “Is that what your dear parents told you before they sold you to my doorstep?”
“They told me I was to be your wife,” I spat, a sudden flash of anger cutting through my fear. “They left out the part where I was destined to become your tenth victim.”
Without saying another word, Tristan leaned in closer. I flinched as he brought his face to the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply.
“M...my lord—”
“You smell so good,” he purred, his breath hot against my skin. “I can’t wait.”
Suddenly, his arms clamped around me like iron bands. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet, a dark, suffocating energy radiating from him.
“You smell so good,” he repeated, his voice deeper, altered.
“It hurts,” I whispered, squirming against his crushing grip. “Let go of me!”
“You’re mine.” Instead of loosening his hold, his grip tightened, pinning me against his chest. “Mine alone.”
He pressed his face into my neck, and before I could even process what was happening, sharp fangs pierced my skin.
“Wh...what are you doing?!” I gasped, my eyes widening in shock.
Duke Tristan didn’t answer. Instead, he began to drink, sinking deeper into my neck. What kind of a monster is he?!
“Let go of me!” I tried to push against his chest, but he caught my wrist easily, sucking harder, drawing my life force out of me.
My vision began to blur, dark spots dancing across my eyes. My head spun, lightheaded and weak. Panic seized me. Am I dying? Is this how it ends?
Just when I felt my knees giving out, he abruptly released my neck.
I stumbled back, gasping for air. My hand flew to my neck, coming away slick with warm, dripping blood. “You...” I stammered, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “You are a monster.”
Abandoning all pretense of nobility, he smirked. He wiped a drop of blood from his lower lip with the back of his hand. “You taste so good.”
“Is this how your brides died?” I choked out, tears stinging my eyes.
“I guess you must know by now that none survived,” his voice filled the quiet room, heavy and chilling.
“I... I don’t want to die,” I sobbed out, clutching my wounded neck.
“Easy,” he said smoothly. “You won’t die. I’ve had my fill already.”
“Are you saying... you won’t kill me?”
“Yes, I won’t,” he replied, his tone chillingly calm. “I am satisfied already.”
He turned away and walked toward the four-poster bed. I watched in stunned silence as he took a seat on the edge, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Come here. Tonight is our wedding night.”
My heart pounded against my ribs like a trapped bird. Every terrible thought of death filled my mind, but I walked slowly toward him. I had no choice.
“Strip,” he ordered coldly.
I froze, stunned. Did I actually hear him right?
“I hate repeating myself.” His voice dropped to a register that made the hairs on my neck stand up.
With trembling fingers, I unbuttoned the top of my ivory silk nightgown and let it slip down my shoulders. As soon as the fabric hit the floor, leaving me completely bare, I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest and lower body.
“Remove your hands. Let me see all of you.”
I forced my arms to drop to my sides, the cold night air biting at my skin while blood continued to trickle down my collarbone from his bite.
Tristan reached out, caught my hand, and pulled me forward, forcing me to sit across his lap. His fingers gently moved the loose hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear once more. Then, he leaned in and pressed his tongue against the wound on my neck, slowly licking away the blood.
“My saliva will heal you,” he whispered close to my ear. “Stay put.”
“Mmm...”
A quiet gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it. I bit my lip in shock. Did I just moan?
“Lady Rosamund, you only awaken my hunger more,” he whispered against the side of my neck.
I gasped as his hand moved down, cupping my breast and squeezing it gently, wringing another soft, involuntary moan from my chest.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Beautiful? Am I really beautiful to a monster like him?
He paused, then reached up to grab my chin, forcing my face up, so I had no choice but to look directly into his dark, penetrating eyes.
“Everything about you smells amazing.”
I gasped again as his tongue trailed down from my jawline, tracing down my chest and torso.
Everyone said he was cruel, a bloodthirsty demon who slaughtered his brides, but the way he kept chanting how beautiful I was... it made me feel something dangerous. Something twisted.
He lifted me off his lap and set me on my feet directly in front of him. Tristan’s dark eyes moved slowly up and down my body, taking in every single inch of me.
“Kneel.”
My body obeyed his command almost automatically, my knees hitting the plush rug in front of him.
“Unbuckle this.” He gestured to the dark leather belt and trousers at his waist.
My hands trembled so violently that I could barely grasp the metal buckle. “W-what should I do next?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Are you seriously asking me that?” he murmured, leaning forward so his face was inches from mine. He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Do you expect me not to test the property I’ve bought?”
“I didn’t mean that... I just... I don’t know what to do.”
Duke Tristan’s temperament was like unpredictable weather. One moment he acted strangely gentle, and the next he was a cruel demon.
“Well, since you are so confused, I will tell you what to do,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming in the firelight. “Bring it out and suck on it.”
“Yes, my lord,” I whispered.
I wanted to refuse. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to fight, to pull away. But I dared not disobey. What if I made him angry? What if he changed his mind and killed me right here?
I still don’t know how he killed the nine brides before me, I thought, looking up at his dark figure. Did they displease him? Did they refuse him... and that’s why they died?