Chapter 50 Cold Lips
Chapter 50 Cold Lips
It felt like he was getting closer to her; perhaps she was imagining it, then coldness met her lips as he brought his to hers. Her eyes widen to a size she had not thought possible.
No longer was she worried about the sound of her heart, as she was sure it had stopped beating. Staring at him, she hoped there would be an explanation, but cold skin moved against hers as his eyes remained shut.
After the shock of the cold wore off, she melted into him, allowing him to take control. Her eyes shut as the tension left her muscles, and they melted.
It was as if she were under a spell. His spell. Completely under his control, her brain went hazy. There was a thought in the back of her mind that this was not a good idea, but she ignored it, pushing it to the far corners of her mind.
More. She wanted more, but what that was, she didn’t know. It did not hurt as much as she thought. Vampire bodies she imagined to be like stone or ice, but somehow his lips almost felt soft.
It was exciting as her hand reached for his shoulder, steadying herself. A strong wind could have blown her away with ease. His own wrapped around the base of her neck, encouraging her to fall into him more.
A shiver ran down her spine at his cold touch.
The gentle caress of his lips encouraged her mouth to open to him. His tongue barely touched hers before it retreated, and he dropped his hand, stepping back.
It was as if he had been stabbed; he broke the contact so quickly. Lucy sat there, dazed, her mouth open, and her eyes closed. It took several blinks before she was able to come to her senses.
What remained of Patricia’s work had come tumbling down with her locks falling across her back and in the wind.
Lucy could only imagine the state of disaster her hair and outfit were in. The bottom of her riding outfit was littered with dirt and grass from sitting on the ground, and her hair was free in the elements.
As she seemed to regain part of her brain function, she blinked, taking in sight of the king in front of her.
He looked uncharacteristically rattled, as if something world-ending had happened. His cool composure was gone as he ran his across his face.
“I’m sorry that was impulsive of me.” Caen stepped away from her, looking uncharacteristically rattled.
Lucy began to fix her hair and clothes as if it could steady her racing heart. Words were at a loss for her as she tried to process what had occurred between the two of them. She wished to hide behind the hair that had come undone.
“There is no need to apologize,” She said through ragged breaths before adding, “We are betrothed.” It was a sad attempt at lightening the mood between them.
It did not seem to work as he soon departed. “I will leave you to your riding.” He said before disappearing into the night away from her sight.
Her mouth opened to call out to him, her hand instinctively raising as if she could catch him, but he was already gone.
Words never formed because what would she say? Beg him not to leave? Her pride could not handle that.
Her eyes searched for him in the darkness in the direction in which he had disappeared, even though she had no hope of finding him. What was that?
Confusion soon turned to embarrassment as she looked around, wondering if anyone saw. The knight’s vision was as poor as hers, but if there were vampire guards or servants, then they might have seen.
Squinting, she could not see or hear anyone near, but she was not certain. Trying to act normal, she stood, brushing herself off, and walked to Dulcie, who was grazing undisturbed nearby. She stroked her mane, hoping it would take her mind off what had just happened, but to no avail.
There was no way she would dare ride, as her legs threatened to shake and give out at any moment, as adrenaline coursed through her veins.
Taking the mare’s lead, she walked around in the paddock. The circles her body made around the space echoed the circles her mind swirled in.
The surge of euphoria in her body was gone, replaced with inadequacy. Maybe it had not been the same for him as it was for her. Or worse, he had left disappointed in his betrothed.
The years he had walked the earth were too numerous for her to count; in that time, she wondered how many lovers he had taken. How many hearts had he broken? Had his heart been broken as well? Was there a special person whose heart he longed for?
Her own heart was in her stomach as she seemed to torment herself with her thoughts. This kiss was the only intimacy she had ever known.
The watchful gaze of her stepmother kept any suitors away, not that she had minded. Now her eyes had been awoken to a world of possibilities, and she found herself lacking in knowledge of the ways of the heart.
The sky began to lighten when she finally returned Dulcie to the stables, knowing the grooms would be eager to tuck themselves away before the sun rose in the morning.
She had missed the last meal, or perhaps it was still underway; no messenger had arrived to request her presence. It seemed to mean her attendance was not missed, at least by the king.
She bathed in silence as she tried to tame the hair that had been tangled in the wind. Her vanity held a mirror, and she found herself staring at her reflection.
Every inch of her face, she scanned, looking for any fault or flaw that Caen may have seen. Her insecurities raised their ugly head as her stepmother’s voice echoed in her mind.
The Baroness had an innate ability to find fault in anything, and Lucy was no exception to her scrutiny.
With a sigh, she stepped away from her self-loathing as her body began to give way to the heaviness of the day. Soon she found herself in bed, too tired to dream as she drifted off to sleep.