Her Wicked Secret {Sequel to His Mortal Bride}

♱ Chapter 17 ♱

Piper

I shoved Evander away with enough force I could hear the breath being knocked out of him.

It was just a single drop of blood, but it laced my lips and sent me into an internal frenzy. My gums ached, my sharp fangs protruding severely. My mouth salivated, coating the little bit of blood that hit my tongue and savored it. I had had one small taste of it, and it was all I could focus on.

I felt like I was choking. I could smell the blood now coming from his cut tongue and it sent a rush of dizziness passing through me.

Evander was coughing heavily, regaining his lost breath as if I had punched him in the gut. I practically had. I was surprised I hadn't broke all of his ribs just by that single blow. I was appreciative of that at least.

Everything was so... enhanced. Everything around me was so clear. Much clearer than my immortal abilities managed to make things. All the luminescent flowers around me shined so bright I had to adjust my vision so I didn't blink away from the almost blinding light. The fire just a few hundred feet from me was also blindingly bright. It felt odd, as if I were seeing things that weren't completely real. More as if everything was... embellished.

I could see the appeal to Wicked blood now. It really did act as a drug... A steroid perhaps. As if Vampires needed any more enhancements.

I pressed myself back into the fir, trying to stay as far from Evander as possible, but the pressure I applied to the trunk made it tumble down as if it were nothing. It felt like I had barely put any strength towards it. And that was coming from a Vampire who had perfected my strong abilities.

The fir came crashing down behind me in a series of screams as it took down the branches of others around it. It shook the ground as it finally met the forest floor, thankfully away from Evander's cottage. Evander flinched at the loud boom that came from the large tree colliding with the ground.

The worst part, the most tempting part, was that I could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Before, it had been somewhat of a comforting lull that calmed me. Just minutes ago, I laid my head on his chest to do just that. I had tried not to pay too much attention to it and the subsequent whooshing of blood in his arteries, but now it had my utmost attention. I was rooted in my spot, fearing that if I moved a muscle that I would kill him.

I wanted to taste every last drop of him. Let it pool in my mouth and drip down the sides of my lips onto my neck as I drained him. The images were so vivid. I knew that if I let myself start, I wouldn't stop until he was dead.

I could only imagine the regret if I did. I couldn't kill him. I cared for him too much...

Evander reached up to the blood on his lips with alarm. When he glanced down to his fingertips, they were coated with his enticing blood. My teeth were sharp. I should have known that there was a chance they would cut him so easily.

I held my breath, not letting the scent in so it hadn't the chance to seduce me any more.

It broke me to see the shock in his face. He wasn't horrified, but I could see deep down that he was scared. He knew how his blood affected me. He knew what I was capable of... He'd seen others of my kind do it over and over again to his friends, his family.

In that moment, I could see it written all over his face.

He was finally seeing me for what I was.

"Evander," I choked, "go inside."

Evander didn't move. He stared at me in bewilderment. I needed him to get away from me.

When he didn't answer, I grew frustrated. Not with him. I was frustrated with myself. Not even that, I was enraged. How could I let this happen?

"I said, go," I growled through gritted teeth, still trying to hold my breath. An angry tear slipped down my cheek. "I don't want to hurt you."

Evander opened his mouth to protest, then he shut it. There was nothing he could say. He kept his eyes on me, studying my terrified expression. Finally, he nodded slowly and backed away.

He never turned away. He kept himself facing me as he backed away slowly, as if he didn't trust me enough to take me out of his sight.

Halfway to his cottage, I finally took whatever self-control I had in me and darted, leaving Evander, his cottage, and his addictive blood miles behind me.

♱

I didn't sleep a wink that night. When the morning sun came up and it came through the glass panes of my balcony doors, my eyes were still wide open as they had been when I planted myself on my bed the night before.

I was still in my crumpled, muddy dress. My hair still smelled of the tall fir and it's bark. And my skin... it still held the smell of him, bringing back the clear memory of holding him close to me as he kissed me all over.

My lips still tasted of jasmine and mint, and most of all, his blood. It still lingered in my mouth, no matter how many times I tried to brush my teeth and rinse my mouth. When I made it back to my balcony last night, the first thing I did was rush to the bathroom and savagely try to rid the taste of his blood from my tongue.

It didn't work. Maybe it got rid of most of the physical evidence. But it was as if the memory of the taste still lingered. And I don't know when or if it would go away.

I would always remember the taste of it. No matter how much time passed, the memory would always be there; clear, sickening, and uncontrollably tempting.

Would I ever be able to bring myself to see him again?

The memory of how he looked at me made me sick. He looked at me as if I was some beast. He was strong, and not much fear came over his expression. But it was as if he had finally seen me as the enemy I truly was: one who couldn't control themselves at the taste of his blood and that of his kind.

I hadn't realized I was crying. The tears ran down my cheeks and dripped onto the pillow below my head. At this point, my cheeks had gathered a layer of tear stains and smeared makeup. It was pathetic.

When my lady's maids came to the door I shooed them away and ripped myself from my bed. I tore my dress off in a fit of rage and went to take a shower. I didn't even bother to look in the mirror as I brushed the knots and tangles from my hair. I stared down at marble sink to avoid seeing how awful I must look.

I was kidding myself thinking that Evander could possibly see me as something other than another Vampire he loathed. I had proven to him that I was just like the others, uncontrollable and savage when it came to blood.

I wasn't a woman he could possibly care for. And I was stupid to think that he was the perfect suitor, even if I couldn't have him in the end.

The rose, the note, the want and passion in his kisses. It all meant nothing.

Because at the end of the day, I was set to be bound to someone else and I cannot entertain the idea of falling in love.

He was a Warlock, and I was a Vampire. We were never meant to be together and never would be.

––––––––––•A/N•––––––––––

Comment here what you think Evander is feeling. Is Piper right? —>

Vote

&

Share