Burn Me Right

Chapter 34

The sun shone brightly on the city, chasing the dark shadows away. The room was shrouded in a dark, gothic ambiance amplified by the light creeping in from the windows. The sun's rays filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls and floor. The intricate carvings on the high ceiling, the heavy drapes of the canopy bed, and the antique furnishings added to the old-world charm of the room. Two figures lay entwined on the bed, lost in the embrace of slumber.

As the sun rays peeked through the curtains, Autumn slowly began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to adjust to the brightness. She felt the weight of someone's arm draped across her waist and a heavy warmth on her chest.

A sudden jolt of fear ran through her body as she realized she wasn't alone. Memories of the previous night flooded back, and she tried to recall how she ended up here. The bloodstains, his pride, all of it was fresh in her head. She looked down to see the culprit, who was heavily asleep yet alert on her chest.

He huffed like a Spanish bull, his breath touching her nipples. The room was cozy with the heat on, but it was his breath that radiated a much-needed warmth, like a raging fire burning inside her. His exhalation filled the air with a heady aroma that was both scary and intoxicating. She tried to move, but even in that sleep, he didn't fail to pull her toward him involuntarily. She diverted her attention to the clock. It read 6 am.

The sound of busy footsteps and muffled voices of the maids and house help made her feel guilty for lounging around while they worked tirelessly to keep the mansion running. But how could she get up when a beast of a man lay on top of her?

Her gaze shifted from the commotion outside to Zyler's chest. The rise and fall of his breaths were like the pounding of a sledgehammer, unrelenting and powerful. She couldn't help but wonder if he ever felt that smooth mass of muscle beat fast or if there was even a heart in that dark, twisted form of his. Was it just a facade? A mere illusion of life? A hollow cavity where a heart should be? She wondered how hard that organ must work to keep up with his wickedness.

As she lay there, pinned under his weight, she couldn't shake off the feeling that he was not human. His very presence was a testament to his inhuman nature, casting a shadow that seemed to glow in the morning light, almost like a warning to stay away.

The light danced around the room, the golden rays casting intricate shadows on the walls. Her beautiful pupils moved down to his chest. A hellish creature, a Fury, was etched on his right chest in deep, dark ink. Its twisted, snarling figure seemed to come alive as the sun shed light on him. Like a sinister sentinel guarding his heart. As the shadows danced around him, Fury's wicked wings and piercing eyes whispered of hidden darkness, a mysterious tale of torment and passion entwined—a perfect annotation for a man like Zyler.

As she studied the tattoo, she couldn't help but reach out a tentative hand, tracing the rough edges and smooth curves with her fingertips. The texture was almost alive as if the creature itself were embedded deep beneath Zyler's skin. The eyes of the beast were a haunting temptation, luring her into the depths of their abyss. They glimmered with dark, magical energy that threatened to ensnare her soul, a siren's call that she couldn't resist even if she wanted to.

But as quickly as the moment came, it passed. Autumn withdrew her hand, and the shadows shifted once more, playing tricks on her mind. The Fury's wings seemed to stretch and flex in the light, hinting at a power beyond comprehension. And yet, the darkness remained, a barrier between Zyler and the rest of the world. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear at the thought of being so close to such a dangerous man. The Fury seemed to whisper to her, calling out with a terrifying voice.

She wondered if anyone got to his heart. Was the tattoo symbol or an indication that anyone who wanted a way to his heart should go through hell itself? But will they succeed, or will they be ripped apart on their way to his heart? Only the devil should know the answer to that.