Boys of the Dark | ✓ (2015)

20. The Boy with the Cold Heart

Delilah scooted back, heels kicking her back to the end of the couch. "What are you doing?! I-I-No!"

Lucan tried scooting closer to her on the couch but her glowing black eyes inched him back. "What the actual fuck?!" she exclaimed.

He sighed, setting the cup of ice water down. "I didn't want you to find out like this."

"Like this?! What's with people lying these days?" she asked and he started to advance again even with those black beaming eyes staring him down. He learned that over the past few years----how to get past the intimidation of the black eyes. Delilah hated that about him.

"Don't be like this."

"Be like this?! You lied to me the whole time!" she said in outrage. She stood on her feet, nearly falling off the couch in process with her heels on.

"I'm sorry but it's not like I could just tell you without fucking everything up!"

She scoffed and threw her hand up. "Seriously? That's the first thing you say to me in years."

"Technically, we've known each other longer but anyway, yeah I know what you mean."

Lucan got to his feet to and grabbed himself a wine bottle. He popped off the cork with his thumb and chugged back some before placing it back down. "Why are you like this, Delilah?

"Be like this?!" She threw her hand up, the glass table on the left lifting up.

Lucan advanced a step forward. "Now baby, don't be like this."

"Be like this?! BE LIKE THIS?!" She watched the spell wear off of her—this one trick she hated; not peeling back the curtain but being tricked by a trickster.

She shook her head more, wanting to rip this stupid illusion and spell off of her. She could feel his magic coat her skin, cover her eyes and suffocate her from seeing his true form.

She wanted her senses back. She wanted to see properly.

Soon, the spell wore off of her and she looked at Lucan again.

She wished she fucking didn't.

She knew that grin oh so well.

"You're shitting me. I can't believe you used that fucking spell on me!" Her veins throbbed. "I told you to never use that spell on me yet you go ahead and do it anyway you son of a bitch!"

She threw the glass table with her one hand and Lucan threw his arm up, a shield of ice protecting him.

"I'm not the only one who breaks promises!" he hissed.

For a moment Delilah was brought back to ten years ago----dressed in a light blue dress made of snowflakes and was wearing slippers made of ice. Sprinkles of snow dotting over her hair, Lucan had pulled the veil over her face. The emotion and weight of their future together was heavy in his eyes and that fear crept into her again.

She had made it to the vows part until she fled the wedding, clutching her dress and kicking her shoes off. Running out of an ice castle in heels wasn't an option.

He was Jack Frost after all. A man who was everywhere, hiding from him would be almost impossible.

"Don't pull that card on me!" she screamed. She groaned and stomped her foot like a child, unable to grasp the fact this was happening.

"Why the fuck did you put a spell on me Lucan?"

That genuine, nice smile the warmed any heart (ironically), grew on his face but Delilah didn't mind this funny at all. "Well?" she persisted.