Page 47 of Dark Souls

The water parted for the most hypnotising face I had ever seen. With her white hair slicked back, full lips parted and the smoothest, most porcelain skin pebbled with water droplets, she looked like a fallen angel. But there was no innocence about her whatsoever. Her black mascara was smudged beneath unique pink eyes, giving her a dark, smouldering look that only made her more appealing. And the way her lustful gaze was drinking in every inch of me had my mind racing with unholy thoughts.

When our eyes finally crashed together, explosions happened deep inside my chest. I felt something. Want. Desire. Aching. Maybe I should get in there with her after all. No. She was a royal. And I’ve already fucked up big time by letting her see me.

“Who are—”

I quickly held my finger to my lips to silence her. The narrowed glare I got in return only sent more excitement coursing through me. She was feisty. Most people couldn’t look me in the eye without quivering. But she didn’t fear me. Even as vulnerable as she was right now, she didn’t even flinch. And it was turning me on.

Remembering her discarded thong, I lifted it to my nose, inhaling the sweet, forbidden scent of her. Fuck, even just her scent was addictive. A deep, primal groan erupted from my chest as I imagined tasting it with my tongue. I was about to snap. The merciless beast within wanted out. Wanted to ravage her until there was nothing left.

Fighting it, I stood up, stuffing her underwear in my back pocket and smirked at her shocked face. Something told me it took a lot to shock this woman and the fact I had made me grin with pride. I gave her an arrogant wink just as one woman shouted for her and I used my speed to vanish into the woodland before she could look back.

The cabin was one large open-plan room. A small living area next to an open fireplace on one side, a kitchen on the other and a large king-sized bed at the far end. The room smelled of pine and oak, but the faintest flowery aroma mixed with spicy pepper sent my body spiralling once again as I walked towards her suitcase. The stickers of heavy metal and punk rock bands and the sketch of a skull with flowers around it, carved into the metal case with a knife, made me smirk.

Unzipping her suitcase, I looked through her belongings, finding more of that sexy underwear, a hoodie, fishnet tights, skirts and tops and a bag of make-up. At the very bottom, I found a leather rucksack that had seen better days. Clearly, she took it everywhere with her. Unbuckling the flap, I turned it upside down, spilling its contents onto the bed. Phone charger. Lipstick. A set of keys. A journal. Knuckle dusters. Silver daggers. Wood-tipped blades. Kinky. My kind of girl.

I shoved the thought far from my mind. I didn’t have the right to think of anyone as my kind of girl, let alone a royal vampire princess. She was too good for me in every fucking way possible.

Grabbing the black leather-bound journal, which had a similar skull design on the front as the suitcase, I started flicking through pages of handwritten musings and sketches. I walked over to the armchair by the fire, unable to put the thing down.

So this was a glimpse inside the brain of Ilaria Romano-Black. Darker than I imagined. Funny too.

I stopped on one page which had a drawing of a short comic strip. A cartoon goblin stood on a desk with lightning bolts and thunder coming out of his head. It had a little speech bubble next to it which read, ‘Miss Romano-Black, how dare you sit in this class painting your nails and doodling in that journal! You act like you don’t care about the origin of toadstools.’ Underneath, a drawing of her and the words ‘Professor Spellmed, I am not acting. I really do prefer watching my nails dry.’ The capitalised graffitied word DETENTION was in the last box with a ‘yippee!’ and a drawing of her skipping away in clumpy boots, a short skirt and a corset. I caught myself smiling. I only recognised it because my cheeks felt weird. Higher. When was the last time I had genuinely smiled? Not a smirk or sneer, but a smile. I couldn’t remember.

I flicked through more pages, nearing the most recent entries and froze. There was an illustration of Heathen. Horns, wings, black eyes, vines and magical tattoos. The whole shebang. What the fuck was this? How did she know his true form? Surely, he wouldn’t be so fucking stupid as to reveal himself to her. But it would appear the demon had lost his mind. What the hell was going on between them?

I considered ripping the page out to destroy the evidence of his existence, but what would be the point? She could just draw him again. Has she told anyone about him? I clenched my fist and threw the journal on the small table beside me. What was Heathen thinking? Did he expose himself to a royal? Why? Why the fuck would he do something so insane and risk everything? Fuck, if The Devil got wind of this… He just put that girl’s life in so much danger by getting her involved in this shit. Leaning forwards, I dropped my head in my hands, tugging at my burgundy hair in frustration and pure rage.

The cabin door flew open with so much power that it nearly came off its hinges. My head snapped up to see that little firecracker in the doorway, looking like pure temptation. Her hair was still damp, which made it look almost silver in the dim lighting. She still had makeup smeared under those enchanting eyes, which were narrowed into a cock-twitching glare. Her fangs hung over her plump lips, and my rage instantly vanished. She was now dressed in a short skirt, fishnet under top and a ripped crop top, with a pink feather boa that matched the same shade as her eyes wrapped around her neck.

“You little shit! You smashed the fucking door in, He—Oh, it’s you,” she breathed, and I swear I heard excitement in her voice. The last thing she should be feeling was excitement in my presence. She found a stranger had broken into her cabin and was sitting in the dark waiting for her like a crazed maniac, and she looked at me like that? With longing. Like she’s… happy I’m here. Who did she think had broken in before she realised it was me? Heathen?

Her eyes scanned the room, seeing the mess I had made, and her nostrils flared as she placed her hands on her dainty hips. “Did you do this? You went through my shit? What is it with you men and your lack of boundaries?”

I slouched back in the chair, raising my hand to my jaw to rub my stubble as she stepped over the shards of glass and closed the door behind her. She flicked the latch down to lock it and I raised my eyebrow in surprise.

“Expecting someone else to be going through your shit?” I asked, and she visibly swallowed upon hearing my voice for the first time.

“Not really.”

Well, that was ambiguous. I shoved my body up and out of the chair, taking slow, calculated steps towards her. As I approached, I couldn’t help but let my intense gaze take a teasing stroll over her gorgeous body.

“I hope you broke in to return my underwear. And you had better pay for the door. This is a nice place, and a friend of my family owns it,” she stated, folding her arms over her chest in an attempt to look stern. It was cute.

“I won’t be paying for the door. Or returning your underwear.”

She frowned. Deeply. “You broke it. You pay for it.”

“You think every criminal who forces entry leaves some cash to pay for the damage? What a wondrous world you must live in, love.”

A flash of irritation replaced the desire in her eyes as I loomed over her, using my size to intimidate her into submission. The quicker I worked out just how much she knew about Heathen, the quicker I could get out of here and away from her. Because I was realising being this close to her again was a dangerous distraction. For us both.

“You’re a criminal then?” She narrowed her eyes into slits of distrust, not taking the bait of my attempt to make her uncomfortable. Instead, her gaze roamed my face and I saw the burning desire behind that fiery disposition.

“Did I not just commit a crime?” I tilted my head to the side, lifting my hand to touch a strand of her hair. My actions were instinctual, my body working on its own accord because I knew I shouldn’t touch her, yet I did it anyway.

“Smart ass.” She smirked, her dilated eyes twinkling with mischief. Was she… enjoying this? “Who are you? How did you find me?” she questioned, watching my fingers play with a strand of her hair with apprehension. “I still can’t believe this happened tonight. I actually thought I was hallucinating. I’m still not convinced that I’m not. This is just… insane. I never thought—”

Her words trailed off and her breathing hitched as my fingers dropped her hair and caressed the skin of her shoulder unexpectedly. It was the first physical contact between us and the action took us both by surprise. I became fixated on how soft her skin was and how the feel of her beneath my hands sent an inexplicable surge of raw want through my veins. Hands that had done unspeakable things time and time again.

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