Story Part Three07:30 Feb 21 2009
Times Read: 460
“Your so damn touchy Izzy” the very sound of that cursed nickname made me want to rip those devious hazel eyes right out of their painted little sockets. Out of habit I let a low growl escape my clenched teeth, but it only made her laugh. The tiny claw shapes dagger I referred to myself as raven claw was close enough to grab if I was aggravated to far. I looked between the two for a moment waiting for the little twit to catch the idea processing through my head.
“Don’t even think about it nutcase” she tried to sound fierce but I caught the hint of fear in her tone and worry in the frown of her brow. The scar on her lift thigh reminded her just how lethal I could be when provoked to far. I urged the growing furry further back into my mind and tried to calm down. The blood of another slave would be a good release after the relentless teasing from Lucian but would also get me a week of confinement to the post outside. It was June and no matter how dark, it was still hot as hell outside in the courtyard and I was not about to be chained in steal and laying naked on the sizzling stone floor, again.
The shift in my mood gave Danora some confidence back and her frown disappeared into a sickly sweet smile.
“There you go little Izzy, just cool your jets. Wouldn’t want the Master punishing you again for disobedience.” I spat at her boots at the very mention of that ridiculous name she referred to that arrogant bastard as. Just thought that she thought of him as some kind of God was ridiculous.
I slowly backed away until my legs reached the bed and gracefully sat down. Darnora wasn’t generally so stupid as to enter my room without some kind of ploy or plan, so it had better be good. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to piss the hell out of her before I found out what that reason was.
“He hasn’t punished me in past three months” I purred, “at least, not in the way you were hoping.”
I met her furious gaze with a calm collected one of my own.
“The only reason you’re still alive,” she spat out angrily, “Is because the Master frowns upon killing his property.” She leaned against the door and turned off her still screaming ipod.
“If you had been given to Kayden by the stupid little orphanage of yours you would have been dead a long time ago.” She fumbled with her chipping black nail polish as I recalled the memory of meeting the ancient Kayden.
They say his eyes were the color of blood because his lust for it was unquenchable. His long black hair seemed as though it could swallow the moon whole if he wished it. He dripped with danger and the air around him crackled with hatred. The only property I had ever seen him with had been a skinny brunette who was broken to the very core of her being. She could barely walk, probably from blood loss, and was dressed in ripped clothes that hung loosely off her body. His eyes had gazed darkly into mine one day when the elders had met with Lucian about his household. Lucian was an ancient also, but he was a younger ancient with different ideas. He did not beat or drain his property almost did. He acted superior but didn’t treat others like the scum under his shoes, like Kayden did.
Danora had poked and prodded me for a week trying to work my mood up just right. I had gone off and given her that pretty scar across her leg that night and she had screamed like a banshee. I was brought before Lucian as was custom but had been terrified to find several elders also present. His eyes had said everything he did not. He was angry, disappointed, unsure of what to do, and curious how I would react to the punishment I was about to be given. As I had entered the room Kayden had mocked Lucian with my boldness and offered to take me off his hands, promising to teach me to be proper. My heart had raced in surprise and horror, but Lucian has declined and stated that he had a plan for me. But Kayden’s gaze never wavered and I knew something in him hungered to steel the fire of my soul away from me with what lay behind those tight stone lips.
The memory only made me angrier with Danora and I was growing impatient and irritated by her presence.
“You have two minutes to explain why the hell you’re here.” I stated, calmly but keeping the hint of danger just on the tip of my tongue. When she raised an eye brow and said nothing I couldn’t help but remind her of whom she was dealing with. I smiled sweetly and leaned back slightly on my hands to give myself a better position to volt off the bed if need be.
“Unless of course you want another scar.”
Her gazed flickered to the claw only inches from y finger tips. I did not give empty threats, and I wasn’t about to start.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” she said tightly, “Not unless you have a death wish.” I laughed at her words that meant nothing to me. The only way she could kill me was if I were already dead. When I moved my hand a fraction of an inch and smiled I saw the small twitch that ripped through her body.
“Alright” she mocking childishly, “But when the elders sentence you to death done say I never warned you.” When my gaze grew confused he laughed.
“Oh that’s right” she laughed harder and took a few bold steps closer to where I sat. “You weren’t told there was going to me a Changing Ceremony tomorrow.”
Cold shock swept over my body as the breath in my lungs turned to ice. “A turning” a whispered, more out of fear.
“That’s right, so I would be a little nicer to me Izzy,” she turned to leave but stopped as she reached the door handle. “they only choose a fledging every two hundred years, and theres no way in hell they’d choose some hot headed crazy bitch for the dark gift. I’d stay you have a few more days to live before I drain the life out of those pretty pink cheeks.”
The door slammed shut and I felt the color in my face drain.
A Changing Ceremony…..
I wasn’t possible that I could forget something so important and terrifying. I knew I wouldn’t be chosen, couldn’t be chosen. I would kill Lucian with that kind of power. Or at least try. But the changing of a fledging was not something I could escape from should the curse be passed to me. Fighting Lucian would only result in my immediate death as payment for such an insult. My mind raced with possibilities and ways I had attempted escape before. Every though came back to the same conclusion, I was trapped. My thoughts were shattered when a knock at my door caught my attention. My heart raced as a butler placed an envelope on my dresser next to my door. The seal meant one thing.
Lucian was summoning me, now.
Story Part Two07:29 Feb 21 2009
Times Read: 463
The stain glass windows of my quarters shook with the rage I summoned to slam my seven foot oak doors. I was blissfully welcomed by the aroma of white sage and jasmine as I stalked the few paces into my room. This was my sanctuary compared to the world outside. With its grey stone walls, dark blue Persian carpets, and lit torches hanging from the ceiling I felt a sense of calm wash over my troubled mind. It wasn’t much to many people, but it was a room I could have only dreamed of for myself. When I had been brought here months ago it had been used as a dungeon of some sorts. It was large and at first when I had disobeyed or refused Lucian, I had been thrown in here to be made an example of. Yet it had done the opposite in giving me my only real place of protection and solidarity. He had changed his tactics at my growing comfortably and had tried to move me into a more “suitable” room. When I disinclined and sincerely asked to stay within this room he had accepted if only to please me.
My fists clenched into tight balls and my forehead creased at the memory of my first gift.
It had been a glorious dark wood, hand carved four post king size bed. The posts swirled five feet high and ended with a carving of a rose perched at each top. The legs were covered in tiny carved vines and arched out as if they were prepared to flee from the very ground they stood on. The mattress was of course filled with goose feathers and the comforter was silk and a gorgeous dark blue touched with gold. Of course it had been placed in the bloody middle of the room where it would always be admired as if the room revolved around it. Just like Lucian. He had expected to sweep me off my feet with such a gift and had been greatly infuriated when I had still refused his presence. I loved it of course, but would not give him the satisfaction of knowing so. He had tried many other gifts. At first it had been with gowns he felt would compliment my features and eyes. Blues to show off my long blonde hair, and purples to give the depth of my dark brown eyes. Then it had been lingerie, black silks and lacy bras fit for a Victoria secrete model, which I was not and had left in a small bundle in the drawer of my dark wood dresser. He had seen his insult and tried to make it up by finding out my favorite stone and purchasing what seemed like a small fortune of sapphire necklaces, rings, bracelets, and earrings. The only thing I had ever put on was a necklace I hadn’t been able to turn away, but hung low enough to hide the tiny ear shaped beauty. When his anger grew with every rejection he had tried to hide it behind his control. I had chuckled nearly every time the muscle just above his upper lips twitched at my jeans and sweaters. But still that pig headed egotistical bastard had not given up. He had finally cracked my weakness when he saw me gawking at the art room filled with hundreds of the most exquisite paintings I had ever seen. I knew I was not allowed in gallery, because he was afraid of people stealing his priceless work, but I had been to curious. In the corner of the room, a grand piano sat practically untouched and my fingers had ached with every fibber of my being to reach out and stroke a key. Had it not been for the immediate warmth of his presence and my fleeing from the room, I would have.
It had been three weeks after the incident, when I felt it had been ignored and forgotten, only to return to my room to find and easel by my balcony, and a miniature grand piano in the far right corner. I was stunned and frozen with confusion and joy. I hadn’t even notice when his presence filled the room to the tiniest crack in the stone. I had been speechless and he had known it.
“It is a gift, my darling” he had purred sweet as liquid honey into my ear. “For my sweet Isabel of fire.” I stayed frozen as fingers intertwined with mine and he gently pulled me back to his chest. I closed my eyes if only for a moment in blissful happiness. I had never been given such a beautiful gift, even if it did come with a consequence, which I knew It would.
“Do accept?” he whispered as he gently placed a kiss on my ear lobe, sending shivers down my spine only to spread into a warm pool bellow my waist.
I couldn’t speak, but I tightly nodded my head in response and a tiny tear dared to flee my eye.
His chuckle was soft and low, but dripped with the response of his desire.
“I’m afraid that wont do my love.” And when my body tightened in his embraced he chuckled again.
“You should not be so afraid of me, I only wanted a kiss as a reward for my hard work.”
My mind spun with realization, if I refused him perhaps he would take back my beautiful knew treasures. I didn’t know if I could take that. After been rejected by my blood family, cast aside from the only home I had ever known, and rejected by the only love I thought my heart would ever hold, my mind couldn’t handle loosing something else. One kiss, that’s all, one kiss and I could keep something that would take away some of the misery I felt in my heart my being owned by a man I hated. I turned slowly in his arms and faced his gaze with a challenging expression. I had been surprised by the warmth radiating out of those captivating blue eyes. I perched up on my toes and quickly pecked him on the mouth hoping that I could claim to have kept my side of the bargain. The short feel of those strong but tender lips had captivated me down to the very soul and I couldn’t control the state of shock that smacked my face.
Of al the things he could have done he did the one thing that made me the most angry, he laughed. A deep chuckle that made him smile and melted me down to the tips of my toes. Then his gaze grew slightly serious and desire filled his eyes.
“Perhaps I should show you how to properly reward a man.” His words dripped with dark promise.
I was about to snap back at him when his hand gently ran through my hair and pulled my lips to his.
The contact could only be described as liquid fire in my mouth. He started gentle, teasing, making me crave the spicy taste of his full lips. I dragged his lower lips between my teeth and gently bit down. He groaned and pulled me tighter to his body until we molded as one. His tongue flicked out to meet mine and then turned hungry. He had held back for a long time and I knew where I would end up tonight. If I could have formed a coherent thought perhaps I would have pushed him away or smacked him. But the truth was that the aching of my core was just as bad as his. I gave way to the feel of his silky fingers gliding over my soft skin, the pull of his lips against my tongue, the strength of his chest pressed against mine. I had lost all control when I felt the chill of night air as my sweater was being lifted over my head. I was slowly being backed onto the feeling of silk sheets when the clasp of my bra gave way and his han…
The memory so perfectly embedded in my mind was interrupted by the sudden bursting open of my chamber doors. The stench of cheap perfume filled my nostrils and made my eyes water. Even faintly, I could hear the punk rock music of an ipod screaming out into the open air.
“Look who made her way back to her little birdie cage” came a high pitched voice that could only be described as nails on a chalkboard. I turned to see the punk rock little bitch waltz into my room like she owned the damn place. In her knee high black leather boots that looked like they weighed five pounds each, a red plaid mini skirt that could more classified as an extra scrap of cloth, her black corset that pushed her ridiculously small breasts just into view, and her bright purple hair braded and put in two pony tails on either side of her head, she looked like the very stereotype of your average punk rocker goth girl. She enjoyed making herself look paler with makeup and wearing weird bright colors that made her look more like a clown to me. All I hoped was that one day one of her damn piercings gets caught somewhere and rips her face up the annoying little whore.
My felt like they were on fire and my nails nearly drew blood from my palms. I hated people entering my space, almost as much as I hated Lucian’s property rights on me. This bitch deserved a good smack in the face with my rapier.
“Danora” I spat like a disease, “What the Fuck are you doing in my room?”
Story Part One
07:28 Feb 21 2009
Times Read: 464
My lungs were on fire from running so long. Every fiber of my being was awakened by the presence that followed me through London’s crowded streets. I knew that my even pace was the only thing keeping me just out of his grasp as he moved swiftly as the wind only steps behind me. My heart raced with fear and excitement. If I let him catch me, I’ll have lost the battle. But I feared that if I continued this play of cat and mouse, I would be punished for my childish teasing. Yet with every thought of defeat my legs carried me a little faster, until I could feel the wind wiping through my hair and cloak as I raced down the narrow alley ways. I heard a growl intended for my ears only, and I knew the chase would soon be over. I was ready to turn the next corner when a strong hand reached my waist and hurled my back. I felt our bodies collide as we swing around the dark alley just out of sight f passing strangers on the busy streets. My lungs struggled to stay within my chest as my racing heart recognized the sudden halt. I couldn’t see his face but I had carved it into my mind so perfectly that I knew the smug smile taking over his lips and the triumphant gold flickering in his sapphire blue eyes. He had pinned me to the wall will his body and I knew that struggling or movement of any kind would be impossible, but the fire in me would not die so easily with defeat and I tried desperately to push him back. I was rewarded with a deep chuckle close to my ear. The very warmth of his breath was enough to make me close my eyes in silent anticipation.
“Do you surrender my love?” he asked already knowing of my response.
“Never” I whispered, slightly aggravated at my weakness to his touch.
Gentle but strong hands moved slowly over my arms pinned to the stone wall, I couldn’t hold back the soft sigh that escaped my lips and I knew he marveled in his control over me. I retaliated with the gentle push of my pelvis forward to meet the solid warmth I knew was there. The smallest groan escaped him and I knew he could feel my wicked smile through my very bones.
“Your playing with fire Isabel” he grunted through clenched teeth, “And one of these days I won’t tolerate it anymore.”
The chuckle that escaped me only made his grip tighten and I struggled to breathe as I felt his head dip into the column of my neck. He gently rubbed his chin against the ivory softness until yet again I found my breath becoming rigid.
“Play Fair ” I softly panted as I subconsciously tried to push closer into the warmth of him.
I felt his lips caress my neck softly as his gently kissed his way to my collar bone. He knew was he was doing and enjoyed every moment of his torture and my punishment. When he abruptly stopped only to capture my aching lips with his hunger I could help my sudden jolt of surprise. It was not like him to be so open with his desire, so move so slowly and tenderly. As his hiss turned fierce I retaliated with a fierceness of my own. Biting ever so softly on his lower lip, I couldn’t stop myself from darting my tiny tongue out to steal a taste of him. He responded with his own movements that reminded me of our long nights wrapped in nothing but our own arms. Though I refused to love him, I knew that I could never live without his touch. The way my blood flowed through my veins like liquid fire with every stroke of his strong and promising fingers.
“Playing fair never suited me” rang his arrogant voice through my misted haze. I was too close to him, loosing too much control, I knew the consequences for refusing him, yet I had never been one to play by the rules of anyone except myself. When I felt the warmth of those strong lips I craved so often slowly work their way beneath my collar bone I knew his hand would soon be twisting in the knot that held my bodice so tightly closed. My choice was moments away and that wicked tongue traveled lower still. It was now or never, to be bold, or to give into the one predator who I had even considered letting catch me. When his finger reached the solid tights just bellow my breasts, my body froze. My breathing ceased, and I felt as if time itself stood still. I expected his anger, I expected his disappointment and frustration, but I did not expect the hellish growl that escaped those stunned lips. Without lifting his face I could feel the lips around his forehead and mouth tighten and was still unsurprised when those blue fire eyes met mine in cold, deadly furry.
“You dare defy me what is rightfully mine?” He spat like poison drenched the very words, hoping that I would push him just far enough to break his solid control.
I met his malicious gaze with one of my own. My dark eyes told everything I was saying but I couldn’t help but clip back a response, it was not like me to back down from a fight, it was one of the reasons he loved me so much.
“I am Not you pet” I emphasized the last word to make my point clear to the fullest extent.
His hold on my arms grew tighter as his gazed deepened. I could feel his eyes reach into my very soul. It was a tactic he had tried so many times, and had it not been ripped out of me and replaced with a stone heart, it may have worked. The air from my lungs slowly drained as his chest continued to crush into mine.
“If you were my pet,” he growled, “I would keep you on a leash tied to my bed so you could never leave again.”
I felt my anger growing and even though I knew it was what he wanted, the furry inside me grew hotter and hotter with every clip of his own anger. I knew what I was about to do was risky, but I didn’t care. Challenge me, and I’ll push right back.
“You couldn’t keep me if you tired, I belong to no one.” My only surprise as the final word slipped from my tongue, was the soft release of my arms. As I struggled to free myself and give us both some room to think, I realized his chest was firmly planted against mine, keeping me firmly against the stone wall. As my face showed a small sign of confusion, I saw the slow seductive grin take hold of his lips. For a moment those golden blue eyes held my gaze and I was unsure of what was to come. As his head slowly dipped back into the column of my neck, I felt the gentle scrape that sent chill crawling down my spine. My eyes widened as the beat of my heart raced. A groan escaped him just barely as the aroma of my anticipation surrounded us.
“My little warrior,” he whispered against the warmth of my skin, “So soft, so strong, and ever so sweet.” His free hand came to cradle the other side of my neck, and I reviled in the touch of his skin against mine.
“Someday you shall be mine” were the final words I heard before the gentle sting of his fangs pierced my flesh and my body was overcome with a sensation like no other. Everything grew hott, everything pushed into his, and a soft groan was my final argument for my freedom. He held me like a starving child in the palm of his hand. I craved his touch as he himself craved the warmth of the forgotten sun. And there, cradled in his arms, feeling more alive than ever, I couldn’t have hated him more. My demon, my angel, my Lucian.
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