25

3.5K 147 4
                                    

T W E N T Y - F I V E

D A R I U S

I came to find myself consumed with nervousness as I stood outside of Ellanore's room. The tray was slightly trembling in my hands and my forehead was clammy as small beads of perspiration slid down the side of my face and the back of my neck. The sudden feeling overpowering me did nothing by make me frown.

I didn't want her to see me like this. To see how much she was starting to affect me. So rolling my shoulders I situated my face into a glare. The expression was such a common one to me, I've almost convinced myself that it was my signature look.

With one brisk knock on the door, I swiftly made my way into the room. Bumping the hardwood closed with my elbow, I slowly turned around. Ellanore was lying down on the bed, one arm resting under her head and the other mindfully thrown over her shoulder. She looked so peaceful when she was sleeping. So content. So beautiful. Just standing there, watching her in silence was enough for the prominent harsh glare to slip from my face and be replaced with a small smile.

My eyes taking in every small feature, and every little flaw.

Quietly placing the tray on her bedside table, I just stood there. Confused, and perplexed. I wasn't sure what was going on with me, or where this new found satisfaction for Ellanore had come from. . . But I didn't stop myself from lightly twirling a loose tendril of a curl around my finger. My movements slow and hesitant. Her hair was soft, it almost reminded me of a texture that may resemble that of a feather.

Her skin looked as smooth as buttermilk. Her small button nose layered with faint but yet small light freckles. I never noticed. I always overlooked the small details in a woman, the few things that made her different from any other. I've only ever been focused on one thing when it came to women, and that was whether or not she happened to be good in bed. If she was and I was interested then I'd keep her around for a bit, but if she wasn't then I'd make myself scarce and never speak to her again. The notion made me an asshole, but with Ellanore. . . The thought of getting her underneath my sheets hasn't even crossed my mind.

As Alec had said, she was different after all. And though I may not admit it out loud, I was starting to admire her for that.

***

A L E C

"You need to do something Alec." With eyes full of fury and blazing with rage, Talon looked to me with accusing eyes. Her nose flaring ever so often. "I refuse to let the man I love leave me behind as if I were nothing for some human, all for some stupid prophecy."

Sighing, I placed my book down. After dinner I silently retreated to the library in hopes of getting some peace and quiet to clear up my mind, but that thought was quickly dismissed as I realized that Talon was following closely behind like some lost puppy. "What do you want me to do?" I mumbled. "If it's such a big deal for you then why don't you deal with it." My voice was laced with annoyance. My mood still foul from earlier.

"Darius will see my retaliation coming from a mile away. I don't want to seem too obvious."

Clearly your desperation is, I thought. "Look, Darius has been chosen to see the offering through. I can't change my fathers mind once it has been made." Of course I wanted to do something, anything to keep my brother from getting close to Ellanore. But there was nothing that could be done, at least nothing of reason.

Huffing, Talon crossed her arms over her chest. "But he loves me. I know he does." She muttered looking towards one of our many book shelves. I could tell that her little statement was more for reassurance to herself. She was losing her reigns on Darius, his lies finally seeping through the surface. It was only a matter of time before she cracked completely. The vulnerable ones always do.

"I'm going to take care of this. One way or another." With those being her final words, Talon stormed out of the room. Slamming the door in her leave as she did.

Her sudden change of mood didn't bother me, nor did her wretched statement. If anything it just made me feel more sorry for her then I already did.

Another woman fallen victim to my brothers sinful pleasure and lust.

***

E L L A N O R E

I awoke in the middle of the night covered in a thin layer of sweat. My chest heavily rising and falling as I tried to even out my breathing. "It was just a nightmare." I whispered. "Just a stupid nightmare." Brushing my fingers through my hair, I sighed. My nightmare had felt so real, as if I were actually there. There was so much blood. . .

"Are you okay?" Peaking her head through the crack of the door, Mischa held her lamp out before her. The soft glow of the candle light illuminating her face. "These walls are paper thin. I could hear you whimpering." Her cheeks flushed a light red, her hand tightening around the handle of the lantern. " I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn't sleep."

"I'm fine." I said. Reaching over I grabbed a glass of water that rest on my bedside table. The cold liquid was nourishing as it ran down my dry throat. "I just had a nightmare. But I appreciate your concern for checking up on me." I stated once I placed the glass back on the table.

"Normally I'd say let's talk about it, but being that it's nearly midnight i'll wait till morning." Holding her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn, Mischa smiled. Her eyes slightly glazing over. "Goodnight Ellanore."

"Goodnight Mischa."

Once the door closed, I slowly laid back down in bed. Pulling the duvet over my body as I turned to face the wall. My eyes taking in every design and every small chip of the aging wall paper. I was willing sleep to consume me again, but as time went on and the small clock hanging on the wall ticked on and on, I just couldn't will myself to go back to sleep.

It wasn't till around three in the morning when I could finally feel my eyes getting droopy. All i wanted was to sleep, to rest my eyes without having to relive that horrid reality I call a nightmare. But I found the very one thing I wanted, hard to do as a cold chill ran through my spin. One sharp enough to have me arch my back and groan in pain.

It didn't help the fact that I happened to find myself hearing things as well. Occasionally it would be an eerie squeak of the house settling. Or a faint snore drifting through the hall. But this was neither a snore nor a squeak. I could hear it loud and clear. For it seemed as if someone were looming over me to whisper in my ear.

"Treaz." The voice was soft as it hastily chanted the same word over and over. I didn't know what it meant but as it stopped I could feel the atmosphere around me change. Everything was quiet. There was no occasional squeak, no snoring. . . Just pure silence.

Slowly peeling the duvet away from my face, I hesitantly opened my eyes. Regretting my decision as soon as I did. For there was a man hovering over my bed. His dark brown orbs seemed to glow as thin streaks of gold swarmed within them.

I thought that I'd scream, call for anyone that could hear me. But I didn't, I couldn't. I felt paralyzed. Drawn to the bed with no full control or function of my limbs. All I could do was lay there helpless as this man withdrew a small dagger from his jacket. The blade was made of pure silver, marked with intricate designs of some hieroglyphics of some sort.

I knew what was happening, all of the events that happened over the past few days came rushing back to me like a slap in the face. The fact I've been turned into a heartless creature against my own good will like a punch to the gut.

It was all his fault. All his unnatural doing.

"Cane."

Sinful PleasureWhere stories live. Discover now