Page 132 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
I saunter down the dark hallway leading to her room. There are no sentries, no precaution whatsoever. Even the door is unlocked. I halt over the passage to the bath chamber for a long moment. Just a few steps down this path and I can see her again. What would I even say about the intrusion?
Someone is coming.
I turn and snarl at the visitors. Two young elven maidens are standing stiff at the entrance. One of them has a basket in her hand.
“It’s for the queen,” the taller one says with a tremble. Years of isolation make me fail to switch off the intimidation.
“I’ll deliver it for her,” I say smoothly, taking the basket.
“You will?” the other one asks, taking a step closer. Their shift from fear to curiosity and attraction is instantaneous.
I take no pride in it. Everything about me is designed to lure prey. They should be running. The elves are lucky tonight. Not a hint of thirst rises to my throat.
I immediately shut the door and bite down a smile. Thank the devil for granting me this excuse to visit Rhianelle. I venture down the narrow egress leading to the bath and knock on the hardwood hatch.
“You may enter.” I hear her say.
Everything inside is made entirely from green crystals, from the walls to the pool. The room and the world fade the moment I glimpse the girl, half-immersed at the centre.
I draw in a breath at the sight of her.
Droplets trickle from her silver hair down to the smooth, creamy skin of her breast. My eyes roam over every curve and slope of her naked skin. I can’t look away from the stunning sight. It’s like I’m trapped in a strange spell.
Rhianelle is a goddamn masterpiece. I’m torturing myself with the view at this point.
She is playing with the flowers I gifted, floating them in the steaming waters. A small surprised smile graces her face at my presence. She makes a move to cover her exposed half with a towel. The faint red on her cheeks is visible in the soft light.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen,” I say, planting the basket close to the pool. “Your handmaidens brought you these.”
“Thank you, Svenn.” Her soft voice carries in the wafting chamber. She makes the ugliest of names bearable to my ears. The girl forgoes the attempt to hide her body and it takes everything in me not to lunge at her.
A mixture of heat and fascination crosses her face over my staring. I must look like a creep for intruding on her like this. I almost leave when she suddenly speaks, her gaze never leaving mine.
“Stay.”
No one can ever stare into my eyes for too long, not my enemies, not my brothers, not even the past curse bearers or Lilith. I know I haven’t lost my touch because even Kheirall and the elven guards found a way to break contact in the end.
If eyes are a window to a person’s soul, then mine is a gateway to hell. Rhianelle holds my gaze without flinching.
Brave little fawn.
One of her flowers floats in my direction.
“Push it back to me,” she says and so I do. Too bad it sinks before reaching her.
“That’s not how you do it,” she says, giggling a little. The carefree sound is warming a place in me I never knew existed. I’m tempted to play along and join her in the pool, but I stay near the edge. My control is stretched thin as it is.
“Teach me then,” I request. It’s not like I care about the art of floating petals, but I just really love the sound of her voice. Her small, lithe form moves in the water to be near me. No doubt it’s the bond taking effect.
“You have to spin it before you push it,” she instructs, twirling the rosebud in her hand. I feign as much interest as I can when all I want to do is pin her to the nearest surface and lick those pebbled nipples.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the movement sending her scent floating to my nostrils— desire grips me once again. Memories of that night come rushing in rapid waves. The depraved monster beneath my skin struggles to break free from its binding. My fangs grow and my claws lengthen.
Stop this. Shit—
I grunt to smother this impulsive need to touch her, to ruin her again. I’m salivating like a savage beast, ready to devour her. It’s insane how I’m reduced to this primal instinct with just her simple presence.
Rhianelle watches my hideous partial shift.
