Fairydale: A Dark Gothic Fantasy Romance
Fairydale: Part 2 – Chapter 19

‘What did you find out? When are we leaving for the country?’ I inquire as Mary comes inside. I’d asked her to inquire among the other servants, sure one of them would have heard when my mother planned to leave for Haversham.

Mary shakes her head slowly.

‘Your mother has no intention of leaving for the country any time soon, My Lady,’ she tells me with a sigh.

‘But…’

My shoulders slump in defeat as I plop myself back in my chair. My eyes are blank and unmoving as I simply stare at the empty wall.

‘Maybe you could talk to her…’ she offers kindly.

‘No. Thank you, Mary. That would be all,’ I give her a small nod.

She takes my meaning well as she soon retires, closing the door behind her and leaving me alone.

All alone with my misery.

In the two months since Amon’s attack at the Berkley house, everything had devolved into chaos. Thankfully, he’d saved Emma and the rest of the innocent people in the house. But that hadn’t been much of a consolation for the Berkley family, who is still mourning the death of their only son.

Emma, too buried in grief, slowly stopped talking to me. Not that I blame her after everything that happened. She doesn’t know the extent of what occurred that night, or what the real cause of the fire was. She thinks that I’d somehow been awaken by the smoke and carried her out.

Initially I’d tried to be by her side and help her through her pain, but it hadn’t worked. Not only had I felt like an impostor by her side, comforting her about her brother while knowing that I, too, had a hand in murdering him. But I’d seen her need to be alone and deal with everything by herself so I hadn’t pried further.

When she’s ready to talk to me again, I will be here, waiting. But I fear the guilt that assails me every time I look upon her will never go away.

The papers had called the fire an unfortunate incident, and the entire ton is mourning the death of the young Viscount Berkley. Yet it seems very few people knew how wicked he was behind his easy-going façade.

Certainly, I would have never thought he could be so depraved as to wish me harm for something entirely not my fault.

Something Amon had done out of his inane jealousy.

I’d only had one moment with him before he’d disappeared and I’d made my stance clear towards him—that I don’t approve of his actions and his solutions.

After that, Amon hadn’t lingered. I’d barely finished telling him off for the disaster he’d created when he’d vanished into thin air—as he always does.

And he hasn’t returned since.

Now I’m regretting my words.

At the time, I’d been too volatile. I’d just seen him slaughter four people with his inhumane powers and with no remorse at all. To say I’d been slightly shocked would be an understatement. As such my words may have been more biting than I would have liked.

Despite everything, I would have hoped he would show up again and hear me out.

And…he hasn’t.

I sigh as I rest my elbow on my table, disappointment filling me as I realize my mother will not allow us to return to the country until summer time—unlikely even then.

She is absolutely bent on finding me a match, and even though she’d seen my reaction to the fire and the slow decay of my friendship with Emma, she’d continued with her absurd quest to see me married.

That has manifested itself in several ways, not in the least the fact that she’s forcing me to attend every ball and gathering, introducing me to various bachelors in hopes something would work.

Of course nothing will work.

I do not want to wed, not now, nor ever.

Amon might be a blood-thirsty demon and a monster, as my mother doesn’t shy away from calling him. But he is still the only one who claims my heart.

He is mine, just like I am his.

Now, and for the days to come.

I am certain, in fact, that if I were to wed anyone, Amon would ensure that man never made it to the wedding day. If before I’d thought that his jealousy was out of bounds, what he’d done to Viscount Berkley had cemented it.

Amon would take offense for any little thing, I’m sure—which is why I haven’t danced with anyone despite attending all these events. I might get the urge to irk him just like that, but I would never risk an innocent man’s life to do it.

The perks of falling for a demon.

Tired of feeling sorry for myself, I take a blank piece of paper, dip my quill into the inkwell and pen the first words.

Dearest Amon,

I pause, pursing my lips as I realize I have no idea what I want to tell him.

Sorry for reacting adversely to murder? That sounds mildly deranged.

Thank you for saving me.

There, that’s better. He had, after all, saved me.

Yet as I try to continue, I cannot for the life of me find the words to tell him to come back—to return to me. Deep within me, I am sure he hasn’t abandoned me. I don’t know how, but I simply do. I’m more concerned about him thinking I hate him when I don’t—that I feel disgusted by him after I’d seen him act like that.

Though I’d been quite scathing with my remarks, I hadn’t really meant any.

Yes, I am aware his nature is more bizarre than I am accustomed with. But that is solely by virtue of his otherworldly abilities.

I dare say, the men he’d killed had been more monstrous than he can ever be.

He might be a demon. But he is my demon.

The tip of my quill touches the paper as words of affection suffuse my being. Instead of thinking too much about it, I just let my heart dictate the letter.

Dearest Amon,

Thank you for saving me.

I’m sorry for my ungrateful behavior and biting words. I was beside myself with worry and terror and I fear I might have come on too strong towards you.

I do not begrudge you what you’ve done. I can only be happy that you appeared when you did and protected me.

It’s been two months and I haven’t heard from you.

I miss you.

Maybe it’s wrong of me to feel so, but I cannot stop my heart from yearning for you.

You’ve shown me your true face—the destruction you are capable of—and I want to let you know that I am not scared.

Not anymore.

I want you as you are.

Just Amon.

My…Amon.

Eternally Yours,

Lizzie

Once I’m satisfied with the letter, I fold it carefully, dabbing a little bit of scented water over it.

Rising up, I head to the window, opening it and arranging for a little nook on the ledge where I can deposit the letter. I may not be entirely sure how he does it, but there’s no doubt in my mind that he will receive it—mayhap even grace me with his company soon.

A silly smile appears on my face as I bring the letter to my lips, giving it a quick kiss before leaving it in that spot.

Yet as I’m about to close the window, my brows scrunch up in confusion as I spot a foreign carriage stop in front of our townhouse. It doesn’t have any recognizable emblem or coat of arms though it looks to be new and expensive.

But at this hour?

A quick glance at the mantle clock tells me it’s entirely improper to receive visitors at one o’clock at night.

Sliding close to the edge of the wall so I won’t be seen, I sneak a peek at the people who get out of the carriage. Two tall gentlemen whose looks, strength and countenance remind me of Amon.

I blink in confusion when I note they are swiftly received within the house.

A little odd.

I don’t trust my mother where Amon is concerned, and I know she would do whatever she could to kill him—neutralize him as she’d so objectively put it.

Curiosity gets the best of me as I quickly pull a shawl over my shoulders and slide the door to my room open. Just in time to hear my mother greet the gentlemen and tell them to adjoin in my late father’s study.

With years of experience sneaking around and eavesdropping on my family, I do my best to quiet my steps as I go down the stairs.

It’s already late and save for my mother’s ladies’ maid, everyone has retired for the day.

Careful to avoid the creaking of the floors, I successfully get to the landing of the stairs before I tiptoe to the back of the house where the study is.

Yet as I get in front of the door, I realize my mother had closed it shut. No matter how much I try to fit my ear to the wood, I can’t make any sounds.

Even more odd, isn’t it?

Why would two strange men visit my mother in the middle of the night if it wasn’t some type of coven business?

Not one to be deterred by a closed door, I put on a pair of slippers and I go outside the house through the servant’s entrance.

Rounding the house until I reach the study’s window, I smile to myself as I note it’s half-open. And if I climb just a little higher, I can listen to everything.

It’s unfortunate I cannot see, but with my situation precarious as it is, I’m not going to risk it. Especially as one of the men speaks first, my eyes widening as I realize my hunch had been right—this is about Amon.

‘The Holy See has received your request, Lady Montford, and we are here to provide you with guidance.’

‘I didn’t think they were going to send you,’ my mother clasps her hands together. ‘It’s so good you have come. As I’ve outlined in my previous letter, I am sure this is about the same demon that Elder Ambrosius spoke about in his account. Considering the lives lost more than a thousand years ago, I would say this deserves immediate attention.’

A thousand years ago?

Amon is that old? My eyebrows crease with the new information. I’d never asked him his age—maybe I should have.

‘You would be correct, My Lady. The Supreme Authority delegated us to assist you with our knowledge about this…demon,’ the other man notes, yet his tone suggests skepticism. ‘Our job as demonologists is to study these entities and make notes on them.’

‘I am happy the Supreme Authority decided to take my claims seriously,’ Fiona says. ‘Why don’t we just go to the topic. How do you kill this Amon? I’ve already tried everything the elders wrote in the codex, and none of the usual spells worked on him. Not even the hallowed barrel powder we used when we shot him. I’ve consulted with other members of the coven and they were equally as mystified.’

One of the men clears his throat.

‘Amon is not a regular demon, My Lady. It wasn’t coincidental that the Elder Ambrosius named him an archdemon. His powers are far above those of regular evil entities, and you will not be able to defeat him with one codex alone.’

I frown. He must be referring to the forbidden spells then, since those are the only ones for which you need all the codices assembled together.

‘What can you tell me about him?’ Fiona’s voice wobbles as she asks the question.

‘There are accounts of him going some two thousand years before,’ one man starts. ‘Ancient scrolls talk of an Amon who influenced kings and emperors, leading from the shadows. In fact, we have reason to believe he could have been the inspiration behind the Ancient Egyptian god Amon.’

‘Dear Lord,’ my mother gasps.

I would, too, if I could afford to make any noise.

Ancient Egyptian God Amon? But that would make him… Not just one thousand years old but thousands.

Cold seeps through my clothes. My shawl is not enough for the temperature outside. Despite forcing myself to stay still and listen, I can’t help my own body rebelling against me as shivers overtake me.

Taking a deep breath, I do my best to be quiet as I fit myself better to the outer wall.

‘No wonder I wasn’t able to harm him. If he’s capable of such things… I don’t want to imagine what he could do if he ever got his hands on my daughter.’

‘We are here to ensure that doesn’t happen, Lady Montfort. And we haven’t come empty-handed.’

There is some noise coming from inside the room, but I’m afraid I will be seen if I try to peek inside the room.

‘This is…’ my mother trails off in awe—the best thing to pique my curiosity even more.

‘This is a sword forged by a holy metal called rhodium. It is an extremely rare metal, and I urge you to be exceedingly careful with how you wield it,’ one man explains.

That’s all it takes for my curiosity to shoot up. Placing my hands on the window ledge, I slowly raise myself up—enough to glimpse the form of the two men and my mother as they gather together around the sword.

I can only make out a powerful gleam before I have to duck again. The cold has affected my fingers, and my grip is tenuous at best. If I try to hang on to the ledge, I might slip and fall, attracting attention to myself—which is the last thing I want.

My teeth start chattering uncontrollably. I slap my hand over my mouth in an attempt to control it and focus on the conversation.

‘You’re saying this can kill him?’ my mother asks.

‘Not much can injure Amon, let alone kill him. But this, accompanied by the spells of the Elders, should work.’

‘Do not worry. Some of the other families have been made aware of this, and I will work to convince the rest too. He won’t escape again,’ Fiona declares.

‘We have all the faith in you, Lady Montford.’

‘I’ve managed to find a husband for my daughter, too. Just as your letter mentioned. But are you sure that will deter him from going after her? I…’

What?

She found me a husband?

My pulse speeds up as shock and fear accumulate in my heart.

When did this happen and why was I not informed?

But then it dawns on me that my mother wouldn’t have told me until the last moment—all so she could ensure the wedding would go smoothly and I will not put up a protest.

After all, despite my feigned disavowal of Amon, she is aware I am not interested in finding myself married off to some stranger—though it’s all my mother has ever wanted.

Now…

Despite my shivering, my lips flatten into a thin line of determination, for I know I will do whatever I can to prevent such a marriage from taking place.

‘We are absolutely sure. Once your daughter is mated to another man, Amon will no longer have a claim over her,’ the man assures her,

So this is where my mother’s odd idea that marriage is the only way to hide the pulsations from my birthmark had come from. These two men have been the ones to put it into her head that the only way to subdue the pulsations of the mark is to mate me to someone else.

They continue to outline a plan, and as I’d guessed before, it involved using me as bait for when my mother has secured the cooperation of all the other families.

With the rhodium sword and the ancient spells, they still only hope to neutralize Amon, which tells me just how powerful he is.

Yet it seems that my mother isn’t the only one who wants Amon caught. These gentlemen and the Supreme Authority seem to be hunting for him too.

God, Amon, what did you get yourself into?

My limbs are frozen from the cold outside. It’s to the point that I’m barely in control of my movements anymore.

As I try to step away from the window to get back to the house, I barely take a few steps before I get a cramp in my lower leg.

Limping for a couple of steps, I don’t manage to regain my balance as I fall face down onto the even colder ground.

A pained cry is wrenched from my lips despite my best attempts to stay quiet.

‘What was that?’ one of the men suddenly asks.

‘What? I didn’t hear anything,’ my mother says.

‘Check the window,’ the other suggests.

I punch my calf as I try to drag myself back up. But even so, I am more than certain that I will be caught. Never in a million years will I be able to make it back to the house undetected. And if these people also have magical powers, then…

Fear grows in my breast just as the pain in my leg continues to echo in my body.

The seconds tick by as the men come closer to the window.

Before I know it, though, strong arms pull me to an equally strong embrace.

I blink in confusion.

One moment I’m behind my house, struggling to move my frozen limbs, the next I’m in a luxurious chamber, the fire sparking to life as heat engulfs the entire room.

The sudden change in scenery would be enough to scare anyone, but I’m not afraid.

His touch sears my chilled skin, his smokey scent invading my nostrils.

I know exactly who this is.

Just as I know he always comes in my hour of need.

‘Amon,’ I whisper as he carries me to the big upholstered bed. ‘You came for me.’

He doesn’t reply as he sets me on the edge of the bed. A thick blanket appears on my shoulders, and I pull it tighter around me as I lose myself in its warmth.

Amon takes a step back, regarding me closely.

He’s wearing a loose silk shirt half unbuttoned at the neck and a pair of black trousers. His white hair flows down his back, the sheen making it look silver in the firelight.

Slowly raising my gaze, I take in his features—that otherworldly beauty that makes my heart clench. His jaw is strong and masculine, his cheekbones sharp and defined, a mix of beauty and danger that never fails to take my breath away. And then there are his eyes. Those pale, almost white eyes that spark with life whenever he gazes at me.

Like now.

He peruses me from head to toe, his jaw twitching when he sees my deplorable state.

‘You’re hurt,’ he states curtly.

The frost had taken away the sensation from my limbs, so I can’t localize the pain, nor do I feel anything but a dull ache radiating from every part of my body.

It’s only when he drops to his knees in front of me, laying his hands on my knees that I spot the ugly bruises forming from my fall.

‘It’s nothing,’ I give him a tight smile. ‘I don’t even feel it.’

‘But I see it,’ he counters, raising his unyielding gaze to mine. ‘You can’t get hurt, Lizzie mine. Not under my watch.’

‘Well, technically I didn’t fall under your watch,’ I raise a brow at him.

After all, he’s been missing for two months.

‘I’m never not watching you,’ he enunciates slowly, the meaning clear.

‘What…’

‘I may not be with you at all times, Lizzie. But I’m always watching. I’m always there for you.’

‘Then why?’ I frown. ‘Why would you not come for me?’ I ask dejectedly.

How many times had I yearned for him, wanted to see him only to be ignored for months at a time.

‘It’s complicated,’ he sighs.

‘Uncomplicate it for me, please. Help me understand this,’ I urge softly as I place my hands on his shoulders, stopping his movements.

‘You’re always giving me vague answers and explanations and expect me to accept everything without questioning you. It doesn’t work like that, Amon,’ I tell him gently as I cup his cheek with my hand, swirling my thumb across his marble-like skin. ‘I know your nature and I haven’t shied away from you. I know you’re capable of extreme destruction, yet I haven’t run away. I’m still here. So whatever it is you’re keeping from me, you can tell me. It won’t change how I feel about you. But I do need to know where we stand.’

He’s staring at me with a frightening intensity. Slowly, he takes my hand in his, bringing my palm to his lips for a searing kiss.

‘You want the truth?’

I nod.

‘I was petrified,’ he admits in a thick voice. ‘After you told me what a brute I was, I was terrified to face you again. I merely wanted to give you time to come to terms with everything.’

Emotion laces his every word as he opens up to me, revealing his weakness.

This man—this strong, strong man—was terrified of what I would think of him.

I don’t know why, but that one admission has the power to make my heart stop in my chest before expanding like never before—all for him. With feelings for him.

Without taking his eyes off me, he materializes some sort of tincture that he applies softly to my injured flesh. After he’s done, he bandages each wound carefully, as if he has plenty of  experience with such things.

‘I’m here,’ I whisper. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Amon. If you want me, you have me,’ I confess, knowing just how much power I’m giving him with those few words. Yet as I utter them out loud, I know them to be true—my entire being knows them to be true.

From the moment I’d met him I felt a strange connection to him—one that befuddled me and messed with my senses. He hypnotized me with his presence before he seduced me with his words. He awoke my body with his decadent sensuality just as he made my heart sing with every little gesture—every proof of his devotion.

Mayhap this is madness—pure, unadulterated madness.

Yet somehow I know he is in it with me. He feels it just as much as I do.

‘From the beginning, I’ve been trying to find a way for us to be together, Lizzie mine,’ he sighs as he leans to lay a kiss on one knee, then the other. ‘And I’m closer than ever to accomplishing it.’

‘How?’ I ask the question as I wet my lips.

‘I shall tell you more about this over dinner,’ he flashes me a smile. ‘There is much we need to talk about. But first, are you warm enough? Do you need anything?’

I shake my head, watching him curiously.

There’s a frightening dichotomy to him—to the tender and sweet Amon that I know and the blood-thirsty monster I’d last seen. It’s as though there are two different entities residing in the same body. As that thought arises, I whip my gaze to his.

He shakes his head slowly, amusement playing at his lips.

‘No, Lizzie. I am not possessed. All of this is me. The killer,’ he whispers as he leans into me, brushing his lips across my cheek before he reaches my ear, nibbling at my skin. ‘The lover. This is all me, love. You can’t have one without the other.’

‘I want you,’ I tell him with all the emotion I can muster. ‘All that you are, Amon.’

His lips tip up into a satisfied smile, and before I know it, we’re in a different room.

‘What… What is this?’ I ask in awe as I look around, taking in the racks upon racks of gowns and luxurious furs. At the end of the room, there is a full wall full of jewelry cases, diamonds upon diamonds, pearls, and other precious stones. Everything must be worth a fortune.

Yet as I’m admiring everything, I can’t stop the ugly jealousy that takes root within me.

Whose room is this? Whose clothes are these?

‘This is all yours, love,’ Amon murmurs, not for the first time sensing my switch in mood. ‘I bought them for you.’

‘You…did?’ I blink, surprised.

‘Choose something beautiful for tonight. I’m keeping you all to myself until dawn,’ he tells me as he takes a step back, letting me move around the room.

‘But…how?’ I mumble to myself, still stunned by the contents of the room and the fact that he’d gotten it all for me.

‘I have more surprises,’ he chuckles. ‘The night is young, love. Let’s take advantage of it.’

Nodding effusively, I turn my attention to the wardrobe, browsing the selection of clothes he’d chosen for me. My lips tip up as I imagine Amon in all his imposing glory, shopping for women’s clothes, remarking on color and style in search for the perfect gown.

There must be at least a hundred gowns in this room, for all types of occasion.

Locating the evening section, I go by color since it’s obvious that all are exquisite and high quality.

‘Amon?’ I tilt my head to peek at him.

He’s sitting in the middle of the room, his hands behind his back, his legs apart, his stance powerful and warrior-like. When he hears me call his name, he whips his head in my direction.

‘What’s your favorite color?’

‘Mine?’ He asks in a perplexed tone, pointing to his chest.

I nod, a hidden smile on my lips.

‘Red. Why?’

‘Red it is then,’ I declare as my hands settle on a deep red gown.

We have an entire night together—I have an entire night to entice him to touch me. After all, how many times have I thought about this in the last months? Especially after that kiss that left me entirely unfulfilled and longing for more.

‘I’m guessing you won’t give me privacy to change, will you?’ I raise a brow at him as I present him with my choice for the night.

‘You’ll need a ladies’ maid, Lizzie. And I’m nothing if not accommodating. You’ll see that these hands can do a great deal of things,’ he says as he brings his hands down my shoulders, the tips of his fingers lightly tapping my flesh.

A gasp escapes me as air whooshes around me, tenderly caressing my skin in all the right places—in all the hidden places.

‘You rogue,’ I accuse playfully when I look down at my suddenly naked body. ‘You don’t need your hands for anything.’

Despite not having been naked before someone of the male sex before, I don’t feel shy. If anything, all maidenly concerns are thrown out the window once I see the way he looks at me, raw hunger emanating off him.

He circles me in a predatory manner, his nostrils flaring as he takes in my body.

Goosebumps cover my entire skin, whether from the light breeze or from his probing gaze, I don’t know.

‘Ah, Lizzie mine, you’ll see just how I use my hands on you,’ he chuckles as he stops behind me. His breath is on my nape, his presence absolutely intoxicating me until I become lightheaded—almost as if I’d consumed copious amounts of alcohol.

‘So, what are you waiting for?’ I ask as I lean into him, undulating my body against his.

His lips part, his breathing intensifying. Yet just as I think he’s going to finally touch me—he merely steps back. With swift movements, he helps me put my dress on, fastening it at the back. Every now and then his fingers brush against my bare skin, eliciting a soft gasp from me as I imagine he’s changed his mind.

But as I find myself fully dressed, I belatedly realize it was all part of his plan.

Though initially I’d thought to entice him with my naked body and the desire I witnessed in his eyes, in the end I’d been the one seduced, my skin flushed, my heart hammering in my chest every time I feel him get closer to me.

I swivel to face him, narrowing my eyes at him.

‘Seduction isn’t merely the consummation of the act,’ he tells me with a knowing smirk. ‘Seduction is in the anticipation, Lizzie mine. It’s in wondering whether every little touch will amount to more,’ he pauses as he caresses my face with the back of his hand. ‘Seduction is the intention without the certainty. It’s all in the element of surprise.’

My breath hitches as I find myself lost in his eyes.

So much so that he surprises me once more as he disappears only to appear behind me.

Cold metal touches my skin as he fastens a necklace around my neck.

‘Beautiful jewelry for a beautiful lady,’ he murmurs in my ear, laying a soft kiss on my shoulder blade.

I’m entirely too dazed by everything to be able to react in any manner, except awe.

There’s something about Amon that goes beyond his strange abilities. Maybe it’s the way he holds himself, as if he’s the guardian of some ancient knowledge. Maybe it’s in the play of emotions on his face that I sometimes witness—the pain and the loneliness that ravage his features before he remembers to put on his carefree mask.

The truth is that no matter how deeply I feel for him, there’s so much I don’t know. So much I wish to know. But I won’t until he thinks I am ready to do so.

He is the one dictating the pace of our relationship.

Yet in spite of all the control he has over the situation and over me, there’s this certainty that every little move he makes, he does so only after he’s carefully deliberated it—only after he’s read me thoroughly.

‘Shall we?’

‘I have one question, Amon. Answer it truthfully, and I’ll go wherever you want me to,’ I suddenly turn to him.

His eyes turn molten as he regards me intently, waiting.

‘Did you kill that girl? The one with the birthmark like mine? Did you do what my mother and the coven are accusing you of?’

He blinks. Slowly.

‘What do you think, Lizzie?’ he murmurs, his question loaded. ‘Do you think I did it?’

‘No,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t know how, but I know you wouldn’t. Just like I believe you are not with me for my mark,’ I say as I bring his hand over my heart, the heat from his palm transferring to my naked skin and making me shiver in response.

‘Trust your intuition. Always,’ he gives me a tight smile. ‘I might not always be able to tell you everything, but know that everything I do is with your best interests at heart,’ he pauses briefly. ‘To answer your question directly, no. I did not kill her, nor am I after that mark—your mark. In fact, the coven doesn’t have the least idea what it means, and how it came to exist…’ he trails off.

‘And you do?’

He nods, his gaze searing.

‘Thank you for telling me,’ I smile as I lay a kiss on his knuckles.

‘Even if the entire world hates me—even if they all revile me—as long as I have your love and your regard, nothing else matters. I can be the enemy of people, Lizzie. But if I am your lover, it’s more than enough for me. I told you before,’ he purrs huskily, ‘I may be bad to everyone else. But to you, just to you, I’ll be good.’

I don’t get to reply as double doors open before us. Tucking my arm in the crook of his elbow, Amon takes me through a small ambulatory before we reach the hallway. It seems that this time he’s decided against teleportation.

The entire corridor is brimming with light. There are candles everywhere, and I can tell he’s spared no expense with this.

As we walk further and further, I’m floored by the sheer size of the location. Especially as we reach the staircase, the top of it overlooking the foyer and what looks to be the entrance to the dining room.

A crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, so high I don’t know how anyone would have reached there to replace the candles. Yet this is Amon we’re talking about. Of course he would be able to replace them—mayhap even with a snap of a finger.

‘What is this, Amon? It’s absolutely stunning!’ I exclaim as we slowly go down the stairs.

‘Do you like it?’ He smiles, pleased with my praise.

‘Like it? I adore it!’

I’ve been to plenty of balls and soirees in some of the most beautiful locations in England, yet I can’t recall ever seeing something so splendid.

My opinions are reinforced as we enter the dining room.

Entirely bathed in candlelight, it makes for a stark contrast with the darkness of the night.

The room is fully adorned with Ancient Greek motifs, while the gilded furniture boasts a Louis fourteenth style.

‘It must have cost you a fortune,’ I whisper as I note the artwork on display—all pieces by reputed artists.

‘It better,’ he chuckles. ‘I made it for you.’

I stop, my fingers digging in his arm.

My eyes open and close in confusion.

‘For…me?’ I ask in a small voice, afraid I haven’t understood him properly.

‘I built this entire place for you, love,’ he confirms. ‘I made it just as I knew you’d like it.’

‘But how… When…’ I mumble, at a loss of words.

Everything about this location speaks of quality and the best materials money can buy—nothing hurried. How could Amon have built something like this so fast when it can take years to build something so flawless.

‘I’ve been waiting for you for a long time,’ he gives me a sad smile. ‘When all you have is time, you devote it to perfection,’ he replies, a note of melancholy lacing his words.

He leads me around the big dining table, pulling a chair for me. When I see him moving to the other side, I grab his sleeve, stopping him.

His brows go up in question as he looks at me. I slowly shake my head as I bite my lip.

‘Stay,’ I whisper.

I don’t want to have him across from me—so, so far away. We’re together at leisure for the first time in forever and all I want is to have him close, feel his body heat and let his deep rumble reverberate through my being.

‘As you wish,’ he gives me a nod as he takes a seat next to me, but not before I spot a small smile pulling at his lips.

It pleases him too.

Though the table is set, the food isn’t here yet. Just as I’m about to wonder if he’d hired servants, the food appears out of nowhere.

Well, there goes my answer. It seems we are to be truly alone for the night.

‘How does this work? This conjuring things out of nowhere?’ I ask as I watch him portion a piece of steak before placing it on my plate.

‘They’re not out of nowhere,’ he chuckles. ‘I’m not that powerful. I merely call to me things which I am familiar with—things I have interacted with before.’

‘So, for example. If I asked you for a pie. Would you be able to get it here?’

He shakes his head.

‘I can only call forth specific things I have touched and know the location of.’

I nod thoughtfully. That makes sense.

‘What else can you do?’ I inquire eagerly.

After the reveal of his true nature, we’d never gotten around to talking about it or what it means for him.

‘How did you turn your hand into a sharp blade to kill that man? What about the mental suggestion? Oh, and reading minds,’ I keep firing one question after another at him.

I’d had plenty of time to think of all the things I wanted to know about him—all the curious aspects of his arcane nature.

He chuckles at my enthusiasm.

‘You’re adorable,’ he suddenly compliments.

I don’t know if it’s the excitement of the moment or his honeyed tongue, but I feel myself blush from head to toe. He notes it, too, because his gaze suddenly darkens as he trails his eyes from my face to the generous décolletage of the dress and the swell of my breasts where my flush had extended to.

Suddenly, he clears his throat as he wrenches his gaze away from that area.

‘My powers are mostly combat-based, though I’ve learned to give them other uses. The teleportation you speak of? It’s my enhanced speed in a fight.’

My eyes widen as I take in all the information. Combat?

‘You were a soldier?’

He nods.

‘I am a war machine, love. I was built with the express purpose to kill and slaughter,’ he says as he lifts his right hand. Under my very gaze, I see it morph into a sharp blade.

‘My mental abilities, too, are an extension of that,’ he smiles bitterly. ‘For interrogation purposes,’ he clarifies. ‘That isn’t to say that I was born this powerful. I trained for centuries to get to the level I am now.’

Though his tone is moderately objective, I can tell this is an area of his life that he doesn’t like talking about. Now that I know at least something, I decide to not probe further.

‘Can you read my mind all the time?’ I wet my lips, awaiting his answer with apprehension. Can he see everything I feel for him and the way my mind is inundated by thoughts of him? That since the moment we’ve met he’s been my very own elusive obsession?

‘Not all the time,’ he answers ruefully. ‘I can do it if I concentrate enough, but some thoughts are louder than others. Just like how people have better mental defenses than others,’ he explains. ‘In your case, I can read your loudest thoughts, but not all of them.’

‘Thank God,’ I whisper, exhaling in relief.

He throws his head back and laughs.

‘Ah, my dear Lizzie, what is it that you hide in that pretty head of yours and you don’t want me finding out?’

His lips are tipped up in amusement, his countenance relaxed unlike I’ve ever seen him.

Before, he would always be tense, almost rigid. And though I’d been drawn to that magnetism he exudes when he channels his warrior self, I can’t help but feel my pulse pick up at the handsome picture he makes like this.

Blithe. Carefree. Absolutely breathtaking.

He looks like…home.

‘You might find out if you’re a good boy,’ I wink at him playfully.

He bursts out laughing.

‘Damn, if I wouldn’t spend an eternity just like this. You. Me,’ he pauses as he catches my eye. ‘Us. Forever. How does that sound, Lizzie mine?’ he murmurs thickly.

‘You might have to convince me,’ I counter cheekily. ‘But is it true that you’re immortal?’

He chuckles.

‘You could say so. But that doesn’t mean I am impervious. I can get mortally injured, but I have a very, very long lifespan.’

The image of the gleaming sword flashes in my eyes.

‘Rhodium,’ I whisper.

His eyes widen with alarm.

‘There were two men visiting my mother. They gave her a sword to kill you with and they mentioned it was forged from rhodium—the only thing that can harm you.’

He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

‘I know who you are talking about. Yes. It is correct that rhodium can kill me,’ he explains, telling me that the only thing that can kill him is a blow with a pure rhodium weapon to his heart. Anything other than that would injure him, but not enough to finish him off.

The mere fact that he’s telling me in detail how he could be killed means that he trusts me implicitly—a fact which warms my insides.

‘Aren’t you scared then?’ I ask, biting my lip.

He releases a dry laugh.

‘Those two have been working against me for a long time. They didn’t succeed last time, it’s unlikely they will this time.’

I narrow my eyes at him.

‘What about the wedding advice? They instructed my mother to marry me off because,’ I pause, blushing as I say the next words, ‘if I take my husband’s seed you will stop looking for me—or, rather, my mark?’

The moment he hears my words, the temperature drops in the room, his eyes shifting color. From the light blue from before, they turn a deep red before settling on the blackest black.

‘Nothing would stop me from coming to you, Lizzie. But that would definitely piss me off. And when I’m pissed,’ he flashes his teeth in a predatory smile. ‘Few people survive.’

‘So it’s not true?’

He shakes his head.

‘They assume that if you were touched by another I would renounce my claim on you, which is erroneous from three points of view,’ he says matter-of-factly as he raises three fingers.

‘One, you’re mine. No buts, no conditions or prerequisites. You’re simply mine.’

His words make me warm and fuzzy so I nod along.

‘Two, no man would ever get close enough to you to do so.’

I roll my eyes at that, since I haven’t forgotten his little stunt with Viscount Berkley. Did he really have to scar the man for dancing with me?

‘And three,’ he smirks arrogantly. ‘You would never let another man touch you.’

My brows shoot up.

‘That’s rather presumptuous of you,’ I challenge.

‘I’d rather call it confidence,’ he chuckles. ‘But it’s a fact, isn’t it Lizzie mine? Have you ever felt anything at all for another man?’

I don’t reply, merely averting my gaze. He is right in that regard. I’ve never felt even a glimmer of something for another man. But I’m not about to inflate his already enormous ego.

‘Then you should know that according to my mother, she’s already found me a husband,’ I add flippantly, watching him from the corner of my eye.

He doesn’t react. He doesn’t rage as I would have expected him to.

‘So she has,’ he merely answers, lounging in his seat.

Still his eyes are on me, his mouth curled at the corners, and that tells me everything I need to know.

‘You had something to do with it,’ I accuse. ‘I know you did. What did you do? Kill the poor man? Ship him off to the colonies?’

His smile widens.

‘I’ll let you in on a little secret,’ he leans in to whisper. ‘We are in the colonies.’

‘What?’ I squeak.

Before he can stop me, I pull my chair back, getting up from the table and going straight to the exit.

Pulling the door open, I’m met by a completely foreign sight.

We’re on a hill, and before me stretches what looks to be a village.

‘This will be our home, Lizzie,’ he whispers in my ear. ‘Away from everyone who is against us. Away from the entire world.’

‘You… Where are we?’ I swallow hard against the panic that threatens to overtake me.

‘Northern Massachusetts. Your new home.’

‘But… How? I don’t understand,’ I say as I turn to face him.

Taking my arm, he closes the door before he leads me back to the dinner table.

Seating me down, he places more food on my plate, urging me to eat as he starts recounting his plan.

‘I know you love your family. Despite their best efforts to hunt me down and break us apart, I will not hurt them. As long as they love you and never harm you, I swear to you that I will never lay a finger on them, Lizzie.’

The sincerity in his voice is unmistakable, as is the fact that I believe him—I fully believe he would never hurt them.

‘You’ve been wondering why I’ve been so absent. The truth is that I’ve been planning a way for us to be together without having to fight against your family or the coven. Just a way we could be together, only the two of us.’

‘But,’ I purse my lips. ‘You’re…immortal,’ I whisper the obvious. How would this work when I would grow old and die while he would just…

‘Don’t,’ he growls. ‘Don’t even think of that. I told you I would take care of everything and I mean it, Lizzie. You will never die on me again,’ he tells me resolutely.

‘Walk me through this, Amon. From the beginning.’

‘I knew about your mother’s quest to find you a husband and instead of fighting it, I decided to play her at her own game. You will, indeed, wed someone,’ he pauses.  ‘Me.’

My eyes widen.

‘What?’

‘Your family and everyone will, of course, think that you are married to someone of your mother’s choice. But it shan’t be so,’ he proceeds to explain that he will use an irrelevant man and gain control of his mind throughout the courtship period and until the wedding takes place.

‘After the vows have been said, to me of course,’ he gives me a sheepish smile, ‘we will relocate to the colonies to start a new life.’

‘And my mother won’t catch on?’ I ask skeptically.

‘She won’t be able to tell,’ he chuckles. ‘Despite what your mother and that coven of hers seem to think, I’m not averse to holy water, nor holy ground, nor any of those silly runes she’s placed all over her house to keep me out. So you see, she has a very poor understanding of who—what I am.’

‘If you’re sure this will work then…’

‘I am certain it will work,’ he assures me gently.

‘Then what about the other part? The immortal problem.’

He chuckles.

‘There is one item I am searching for, Lizzie mine. And if I’m correct, that should stop you from growing old, or…’ he drifts off as his eyes rove over my body. ‘Be so fragile.’

‘Fragile? What do you mean?’

He scowls.

‘With the way Fiona bound your abilities, you cannot heal at all. That means I could hurt you if I’m not careful,’ he swallows hard, and I spot the vulnerability in his eyes—the fact that he is terrified of hurting me. ‘And I could never forgive myself if I hurt you in any way.’

Suddenly, it dawns to me why he’s been treating me with kid gloves—why he’d always kept his distance.

He’s afraid of hurting me.

God, but his features are torn up with such immense anguish, that my heart squeezes in my chest. He can’t bring himself to touch me because he thinks he might harm me in any way…

Getting out of my seat, I slip between him and the dinner table. He’s watching me closely, his gaze heated, his eyes hooded as he awaits my next movement. Pushing his empty plates out of my way, I hoist myself up the table, placing my legs on either side of him—so close; too tantalizingly close.

His hands automatically come to rest on my bare ankles, his touch so delicious, I cannot help but yearn for more. Yet first I must have my answers.

I bring my hands to his face, cupping his cheeks and slowly stroking his skin with my thumbs. Not for the first time, I find myself getting lost in his gaze and the hypnotizing combination of his physical presence and searing touch. I take in his broad shoulders, his prominent collarbones and the muscles that seem to hide under his shirt. I look at him like the exciting, desirable and oh, so arousing man that he is, and I only have one question.

‘Is that why you won’t bed me? Because you’re afraid to hurt me?’ I ask softly.

His jaw clenches as he gives me a brisk, pained nod.

‘I can’t trust myself with that yet, love,’ he releases a weary sigh. ‘I want to touch you more than I’ve wanted anything in my life but… I can’t risk it. I can’t risk that I’ll become lost to sensation and everything you make me feel. You already saw that one kiss got me so worked up I drew blood from your lovely lips,’ he pauses as he gently caresses the column of my neck.

I swallow audibly as his palm closes over my throat, the hold light, yet menacing. In spite of that, all I want is for him to squeeze tighter—touch me everywhere. God, but I want everything he can give me—pain, pleasure, love. I’ll take him as he is.

Violent. Brutal. Suave.

I’ll take the killer and the lover. If only he’d give it to me…

‘Fuck, when you look at me like that it’s fucking impossible to resist you,’ he curses, his features tensing. ‘But it’s been so long since I’ve been with someone that I don’t know how I would react. How…frenzied I would become.’

My eyes widen.

‘How long?’ I ask before I can help myself.

His eyes flash at me.

‘More than a thousand years.’

I gawk at him, though his answer makes my insides flutter in an unexpected way.

‘A thousand years,’ I repeat in awe. ‘And now you’re mine.’

He shakes his head, a sad smile on his lips.

‘I’ve always been yours, love. Always,’ he states emphatically.

‘Then touch me. Do something. Anything,’ I inhale sharply. ‘Please, Amon. I burn for you,’ I plead just as I take hold of his hand, lowering it from my neck to my breasts, urging him to touch me—anything to quench this incessant thirst I have for him.

‘Lizzie,’ he releases a deep, guttural sound, his features contorted in pain as he visibly fights himself and his own desires. I can see the conflict in his gaze, the way he’s looking at me as if he’d die if he didn’t touch me in the next second but at the same time is entirely too afraid to take the plunge.

‘We don’t have to do everything. Just…something. I know there’s more to lovemaking than copulation.’

His eyes flash at me.

‘And how would you know that?’ he grinds his teeth, a murderous aura surrounding him.

‘Emma,’ I whisper. ‘She told me that her fiancé touched her.’ I take hold of his other hand, moving it under my dress, up my leg until it reaches my inner thigh. ‘Here.’

‘Lizzie,’ he growls.

Before I know it, he’s out of his seat, the chair flying back across the room from his residual strength, and I finally realize his reticence.

He is…absolutely super human.

A demon.

God, he is magnificent.

He doesn’t allow me any time to change my mind as he has my dress bunched around my hips, his hands parting my legs for him. I’m not wearing my drawers—or anything that could impede his access.

‘Fuck, Lizzie. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,’ he curses to himself, his eyes turning to molten lava as he lowers his gaze to my core.

I’m almost ashamed of the unusual wetness that gushes out of me and I barely fight the urge to squeeze my legs shut. It’s only his appraisal and the look of pure wonder that he’s sporting that has me equally frozen to the spot.

‘One touch,’ he says, as if trying to convince himself. ‘Just one touch. One taste,’ he breathes harshly.

‘One touch,’ I nod enthusiastically, curious about what he’s going to do to me—dying to feel his big hands on my body.

That thought alone makes my core clench, more wetness accumulating between my legs.

‘Sorry,’ I whisper, making to shield myself from his view.

‘Sorry? Why the hell would you be sorry? Fuck, your sweet little cunt is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. So plump and rosy. So fucking mine,’ he says right as he dips one finger between my folds, gathering all the moisture and swirling it around.

I’m so sensitive there that I can’t help but arch my back, moaning at the barest touch.

God, but I am wanton.

So. Damn. Wanton.

And I can’t find it in me to care.

Nothing else matters but this moment.

Him.

My Amon.

He teases me with soft touches and when he brushes his thumb against a particularly sensitive spot, I all but jump off the table.

‘Amon,’ I gasp. ‘What…’

‘So responsive,’ he murmurs softly, his eyes almost black. ‘Gods, Lizzie, you’re so beautiful. So fucking sensual.’

Raking my teeth over my bottom lip, I peer at him from beneath my lashes as he continues to touch me there, caressing me softly as he watches every play of emotion on my face.

‘So wet for me,’ he rasps as he brings one finger to my entrance, pushing it inside. ‘Fuck. You’re going to be the death of me, Lizzie mine.’

‘Big words for an immortal,’ I giggle, but I barely manage to get the words out as he pushes another thick finger inside of me, stretching me.

There’s a slight burning sensation, but it’s all drowned out by the richness of feeling and the buzzing thrill.

His thumb is circling my sensitive spot while he thrusts his fingers in and out of me.

‘Amon,’ I breathe out. ‘What are you doing to me?’

‘I’m giving you what you asked for, love. I’m touching you, petting you,’ he says just as he increases the speed, applying more pressure to my bundle of nerves.

Just as I feel something mount inside of me, he stops.

‘Amon,’ I call out, confused and unfulfilled.

‘Shh, my darling girl,’ he coos, and I feel his hot breath against my wetness. ‘Let me take care of you.’

A shiver goes down my back.

He can’t possibly mean to…

But he does.

God, he does.

My back hits the table as he throws my legs over his broad shoulders, his tongue making contact with my core. He gives me a long lick, covering that entire sensitive area with the flat of his tongue.

‘Such a bad girl, Lizzie mine. Taunting me with this naughty little cunt,’ he speaks against me, languidly licking me until I’m a thrashing mess in his hold, gasping, moaning, whining.

Anything to get him to continue this sweet torment.

‘This naughty little cunt that begs to be claimed, isn’t that right? It needs to be marked and owned.’

‘Yes,’ I moan out loud. ‘Please.’

His fingers are back at my entrance, stretching me anew as he pumps them in and out while his lips are wrapped around my bundle of nerves, sucking and nibbling and driving me absolutely insane. Every little touch, every little brush of his tongue against me has me tense up, anticipation building inside of me as I know this time I’ll find that elusive peak.

‘So deliciously wet and sweet for me,’ he murmurs. ‘So mine. Only ever mine.’

‘Yours,’ I chant incoherently. ‘I’m your Lizzie. Just like you’re my Amon. My everything,’ I cry out as my muscles strain with this kiss of pleasure.

Something pulsates inside of me, the pressure mounting higher and higher, until it reaches that ineffable pinnacle. I fall apart, seemingly breaking into a million pieces as I chant his name, again and again—the tone alternating between a loving caress and a worshiped whisper.

‘My Amon,’ I barely find my breath as I raise myself on my elbows to look at him.

He’s holding himself still, tension radiating from him. His muscles are taut, the veins on his arms even more prominent than before.

Hunger still gnaws at me as I let my gaze roam over him. Especially as my eyes move from his solid chest that moves with every labored breath lower—to the hardness that dents the material of his trousers.

I may not know much about this love making business, but I’m quite certain that is for me—meant to go inside me.

Slowly biting my lip as I hold his gaze, I slide myself to the edge of the table, my hands trailing over his hard chest as I feel his muscles coil under my touch.

‘You’re so strong,’ I murmur appreciatively.

He’s so big compared to me. He could crush me in one second, and I know that’s what he is afraid of. Yet because he could, I trust him even more not to. Because I can see in his gaze what I mean to him—all the love, tenderness and possession.

Despite everything, I trust him implicitly—with my heart and my body.

I move my hands lower, and his eyes flash dangerously as he senses the direction.

‘Lizzie,’ he gives me a rumbling warning.

My hands hover over his hardness, slowly tracing the outline of it.

And it’s…quite massive.

Certainly more than I would have thought.

‘Lizzie, I…’ he groans as he covers my hands with his, stopping my advance.

‘I want to see,’ I whisper as I search his gaze. ‘Show me, Amon. Show me everything.’

‘Fuck, Lizzie. You’re really killing me here.’

‘This is because of me, isn’t it?’ I murmur softly as I cup him through his trousers.

‘Of course,’ he groans at my touch. ‘Only for you, my love. Only for you,’ he says harshly, his nostrils flared as he exhales sharply.

‘Are you… Are you in pain?’ I ask worriedly as I lighten my hold.

He shakes his head.

‘Show me,’ I coax again.

He bites back a curse as he takes a step back.

Just as I think he’s going to deny me, I see his hands go to the fastening of his trousers.

‘You want to touch me, sweetness? You want to put your hands on my cock?’

My eyes widen briefly as I continue to nibble at my lip, anticipation and desire mingling inside of me.

‘Is that what it’s called?’ I ask curiously.

He grunts.

‘Cock,’ I repeat, tasting the word on my lips and finding that I don’t mind it. Not at all. ‘Let me touch you, Amon. Let me touch your cock,’ I say eagerly.

‘Fuck me, Lizzie mine,’ he groans out loud. ‘Say that one more time and you won’t need to touch me at all.’

My brows scrunch in confusion, but it’s all quickly forgotten as he places my hands on his hardness. Full of curiosity, I reach inside his trousers. Warm flesh greets me, so hot and silky I can’t help the gasp that escapes me.

Slowly, I take him out, my eyes widening when I see the entire extent of him. God, but how is that supposed to fit inside of me? It must be the size of my forearm, the thickness even more daunting as I can barely fit both hands around him. Angry veins run along the entire length, the thick head at the end leaking some clear liquid the more I handle it.

Yet that’s not even the most alarming feature. There’s a thick silver ring at the end of it, intertwined through his flesh in what I can only imagine had been a painful experience.

‘What is this?’ I tentatively touch the ring as I bring my eyes to his.

His hand is on my cheek as he caresses me softly, looking at me almost reverently.

‘That is a symbol of my commitment to one woman for eternity. In my culture, mated males get it after they find the woman they want to be with forever.’

My breath hitches at his explanation.

‘Me?’ I whisper, barely daring to ask out loud.

‘Only you,’ he confirms, his tone firm and unyielding.

Pure joy bursts inside of me, my chest contracting with the power of my feelings for him.

‘This is for me,’ I repeat numbly, bringing my eyes back to his cock—his jeweled cock.

All for me.

That he would risk pain to do something like this to prove his commitment is beyond what I would have ever expected. And that makes me want to please him all the more—give him the same pleasure he’s given me.

‘Show me how to touch you.’

He gives me a curt nod just as he shows me how to stroke him, moving my hands up and down his shaft while giving special attention to the thick head at the end.

‘Spit in your palm, love,’ he commands, and I do.

I spit both my palms before I bring them back to his length, lathering the wetness all over the soft yet steely surface of his skin. I massage his flesh slowly, doing my best to cover his entire shaft before I reach the head. I carefully flick my thumb over it, taking some of his arousal and playing with it. Yet I’m startled to see that the metal ring moves, too.

A low hiss escapes him, but I don’t think it’s one of pain. Not with how his eyes change color again, the light blue becoming darker and darker until it’s fully black—the color of his desire.

I add more moisture as I touch him, tentatively at first before gaining more speed as I watch for his cues—the way his lips part, his breath coming in short spurts when I massage the head of his cock. My eyes on his face, I see all the sensations echo in his features—the tension, the relief, the desire.

‘Damn it all to hell, Lizzie,’ he releases a tortured cry as I start working him faster and faster. ‘Just like that. Fuck, but your hands on my cock… I didn’t dare… I didn’t think you…’ he mumbles incoherently.

His hands rest on either side of me on the table as he leans into me and my touch, his warm breath fanning my face as I continue to stroke him, delighting in every little sound that escapes his lips.

Yet it’s when a loud snap erupts in the air that he wrenches himself from me.

He’s breathing had, his eyes wild as he focuses on the spot next to me—the fissure that appeared in the wood.

Dear God, he nearly broke the table!

‘I can’t…’ he shakes his head, a look of pure disappointment flashing across his face.

‘No, no. Please don’t,’ I whisper, hating to see him so far away—so forlorn. ‘Please, Amon. Let me…’

‘I can’t risk it,’ he releases an anguish sigh. ‘Damn it, Lizzie. Damn it,’ he curses in frustration.

‘There must be a way. Please. I need you, Amon. I need you,’ I’m close to begging him. And if I have to do it, I will—anything for him to come back to me.

He must read my mind because a defeated look descends upon his features.

‘How can I deny you anything, Lizzie mine?’ he murmurs as he slowly comes closer.

I watch him with trepidation and the precariousness of the moment. I want him too much to think coherently. I only know that I can’t stand another moment with him so far from me, without his hands on my flesh, or mine on his.

I’ve never known greater torment than this unleashed passion that’s revealed itself within me—all for him. There’s such depth of feeling, of want and desire that I feel like I will physically wither away if I don’t act on it.

He’s a few inches away—miles still. But as he closes his eyes, he materializes a gleaming metal around him. The chains swirl all around his torso until his arms are fully trapped.

‘You’ll have to help me take them off later,’ he chuckles a moment later.

‘What…’

‘Rhodium chains. They will ensure I don’t accidentally hurt you,’ he gives me a sad smile, explaining how to take them off at the end.

I can tell how much it’s costing him to do this. He’s so used to being in control, yet for me, he’s willing to give it up.

To make me happy.

To please me.

‘I love you, Amon,’ the words flow out of my mouth. ‘I love you and everything that you are,’ I confess.

His eyes widen, disbelief crossing his features before an eerie calm settles over him—an unusual certainty that shifts the currents of the air surrounding us with its strength.

‘I love you so damn much, Lizzie. You have no idea just how much,’ he rasps just as he steps between my open legs. ‘I’m yours, sweetness. Yours to do as you please.’

Wetting my lips, I give him a nod.

‘Kiss me,’ I whisper as my hands reach for his cock, resuming my previous ministrations.

Though he is still slightly hesitant, he leans in, softly touching his lips to mine.

Once. Twice. On the third time a groan escapes him as he gives himself fully to the kiss, plundering my mouth with his tongue and laying small, claiming bites all around my lips.

I increase the rhythm of my strokes, his cock twitching in my hold as he nears his climax. My own core grows wetter and wetter from his proximity, my muscles tensing with desire and a need to be possessed by him—to be fully his.

‘I need you, Amon,’ I murmur against his lips. ‘I want to feel you.’

He draws back just enough to gaze at me. I topple all my mental defenses as I beckon him to look inside of my mind and see everything he makes me feel—the absolute inferno that burns in my veins because of him.

From the first moment I’d seen him, he’d opened something within me.

I may not have known what it meant at the time, but I do now.

An all-encompassing need to belong to him—to be one with him.

‘I need you inside of me,’ I whisper, blinking in fear as I may have pushed too far.

His control is already tenuous as it is, the chains only doing so much to keep him from taking over. And though I know he’s doing all this for my benefit, I can’t help but yearn for more—regardless of the consequences.

‘Just a little. Enough so I can feel you for a second,’ I continue when I see the mix of pain and arousal on his face. He wants this as much as I do—maybe more.

Yet beyond the desire there is the need to protect me even if that means denying himself.

‘Please…’

Breathing hard, he takes a moment to look at me. His eyes are wholly black, and they seem to bore into me with the power of their perusal.

‘Just a little…’ he repeats on a ragged breath, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself of it. ‘Just the tip, Lizzie mine,’ he rasps as a dangerous gleam enters his eyes. ‘I’ll tell you what to do and you do it for me,’ he murmurs seductively.

I nod effusively. Leaning in, I lick his lips as I search for access to his mouth, all the while scooting to the very edge of the table and wrapping my legs around him.

‘That’s it. Now take my cock and bring it to that sweet wonder that hides between your legs.’

I maneuver his cock right at my core, a gasp escaping me as I feel the cold metal of his ring slide between my folds.

‘Fuck yes, Lizzie mine! That’s it. Rub me against that rosy cunt of yours and lather me in that sweet honey,’ he growls against my lips.

I can only comply, the sounds of pure male pleasure echoing in my ears the more I rub him against me.

‘Push my cockring against your little nub,’ he commands, and I acquiesce, moving the metal-covered head against that sensitive spot. A low moan escapes me. ‘Just like that sweet thing, just like that,’ he groans, his pelvis tilting in small but punctured thrusts. The combination of hard metal and silky skin is maddening against me, the friction delicious as he drives forward before drawing back.

In no time, I’m tensing all over, my eyes rolling in the back of my head as my muscles tighten with the power of my release. So much so that I lodge my nails into his arms, holding onto him as the climax cascades through me.

‘So beautiful,’ Amon whispers. ‘So fucking beautiful. And mine. My love. My lover. My other half,’ he speaks huskily in my hair.

‘Now slide me to your entrance,’ he continues. ‘Let me feel your tight little cunt squeeze the life out of me, Lizzie.’

As if hypnotized by his voice, I can only comply, sneaking one hand between our bodies to grasp his cock and move it lower to my entrance.

I instinctively know it’s going to hurt—it can’t be otherwise with his monstrous size. Yet I want that pain more than anything for it will make this real—his possession.

Nudging the head of his cock against me, I slowly push it in. The ring makes it inside me first, the texture of the metal making me release a small gasp. Just that small jewelry and it’s already a tight fit. Not one to be deterred, I wrap my hand as best as I can around his shaft and I push him into me at the same time as I cant my hips, the double action helping him breach me successfully.

A loud pop erupts in the air at the same time as a searing pain radiates from my entrance.

‘Fuck, Lizzie. Fucking hell,’ he rasps loudly, the chains rattling around him as his entire body vibrates with pure strength. For one second, I think he’s going to break free of them and have his way with me. But despite all my hopes, they seem to hold.

‘My God, Amon,’ I whisper in awe as I rotate my hips to find a more comfortable position.

He’s mine. Just as I am his.

Good Lord, he’s inside me.

Well, maybe just half an inch, but the stretch is unmistakable as is the burn.

‘You’re so big,’ I breathe out. ‘So…’

‘Are you ok?’ he asks suddenly, his voice tinged with worry.

‘It hurts a little but I’m fine. I feel…glorious!‘

He chuckles against me, a deep rumble that makes my insides tingle.

‘I never dared to imagine this would happen,’ he whispers softly. ‘Not this soon. Not when I’m still a danger to you.’

As he speaks, I realize that he feels the same all-encompassing awe I do—the same endless love that pulsates between us.

The head of his cock throbs inside me, the ring bumping against my inner walls with every little move and making me jerk in pure pleasure.

Though only barely, we are united—and that in itself makes my entire being soar with unadulterated pleasure. If this feels like this… Then I can’t imagine what having him wholly inside me would be like.

‘No, don’t,’ he grits his teeth when I continue to undulate my hips in an attempt to draw more of him inside me—despite the renewed pain. ‘I’m losing control, my love. The chains… I don’t know how long they will hold me.’

I whip my gaze to his.

‘But…rhodium…’

He smirks at me.

‘It might slow me down, but it’s temporary. It’s why a puny sword will never fell me,’ he tells me confidently.

‘My big and strong protector,’ I coo at him, nuzzling my face in the crook of his neck.

‘But that doesn’t mean I’m not marking you today, Lizzie mine. I want you dripping with my cum, smelling of me, feeling me everywhere,’ he drawls smoothly.

‘Yes. Yes, please,’ I agree wholeheartedly.

‘Put those hands on me,’ he rasps. ‘Put those soft hands of yours on me and stroke me like before,’ he commands me.

I use both hands to cup him, keeping his head inside me as I follow his instructions and move them up and down his shaft.

Soft groans escape him as the chains rattle more and more.

‘Fuck,’ he moans, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. ‘Just like that, my darling girl.’

His sounds grow increasingly louder. His musky scent invades my nostrils as I feel him like never before.

And his cock. God, but it feels like his cock is swelling in size with each pump—each stroke of my hands.

‘I’m coming,’ he roars, and before I realize it, he lodges his teeth deeply in my shoulder just as the hot liquid of his seed fills me to the brim.

My mouth opens on a soundless moan as pain and pleasure mingle together.

He sucks on my wound, animalistic sounds escaping him as he laps at my blood.

Reaching around, I find the small mechanism of the chains, quickly unscrewing it. They fall to the ground with a thud, leaving him completely free. But just as I think he’s going to continue—claim me fully—he draws back.

Blood trickles down his chin, his eyes swirling red and black as he regards me with an odd expression on his face.

‘I’m sorry,’ he hangs his head low, fastening his pants back on.

‘No,’ I shake my head. ‘I’m not. Please, Amon. You didn’t hurt me,’ I whisper, holding my hand out to him and urging him to come near.

He’s like a savage beast as he takes his first step. Yet as he approaches, his nostrils suddenly flare, his eyes pinned to my shoulder before moving lower. Slowly, he tentatively moves in front of me, bringing his lips to my wound and licking it clean.

I smile at him and the tenderness I note in his eyes—just as I see the guilt.

‘I liked it,’ I confess. ‘I like the pain and the feel of your mouth on me.’

His nose wrinkles some more, and it’s as though he doesn’t even hear me as he pushes me back on the table, pinning my dress above my hips as he regards me with a crazed look on his face.

‘Amon?’ I call his name, but he doesn’t reply.

He trails his nose down my body until he reaches between my legs.

‘I made you bleed,’ he suddenly says. ‘Again.’

‘No, you…’

I don’t get to speak, though, as his tongue connects with my slit, licking me clean.

He laps at me for what feels like an eternity, and as two more orgasms rack my body, I find myself too spent to protest when he finally gathers me in his arms, flashing us back to the bedroom.

‘This should have never happened, Lizzie mine. I was too impatient,’ he murmurs in my ear as he gently places me on the bed.

‘No,’ I hold him to me. ‘This should have happened. I don’t regret anything, Amon. I’m yours. And you are mine. Don’t tell me you regret that?’ I ask, a tinge of hurt in my voice.

He shakes his head vigorously.

‘Never,’ he states resolutely. ‘But you’re hurt. I hurt you…’

‘I wanted you to do it, and I loved every moment of it. Just like I love you.’

‘Lizzie,’ an anguished cry makes it past his lips as he hugs my waist, laying his head over my heart and holding me tight. ‘I’ll make this right. Soon, I’ll make this right,’ he promises.

And I know he will.

The following day I wake up in my own bed with Amon nowhere to be seen. As promised, we only had one night together—but many more to come.

As Mary comes to tend to me, I ask her to run me a hot bath before starting the day. I am still sore between my legs despite the fact that I took so little of him inside of me. But seeing how he’d fretted about me afterwards, my guess is that he broke my maidenhead, which is why it had been both painful and a little bloody.

Yet how could he expect anything less with his frightening size? I wonder if human males are similar in that regard, yet somehow I doubt it. Everything about Amon is in the superlative. I don’t think anyone in the world could measure up to him. But again, I may be a little biased on the subject.

For the next hour, I lounge into the hot bath, enjoying the many fragranced oils Mary adds to my water.

Yet as she helps me dress, she informs me that my mother wants to see me in her office.

That in itself would sound ominous, considering what I’d overheard yesterday.

But I trust Amon implicitly.

So when my mother gives me the dreaded words, ‘I found you a husband,’ the only thing I feel is anticipation for the future.

For my mother’s sake, though, and to maintain our cover, I pretend to be entirely surprised.

‘His name is Jeremiah Creed. He’s an American industrialist. He may not have a title, but he wishes to relocate to his home with you. I’ve had him checked, and his credentials are sound, as is his fortune and his morals. He is everything I would have wished for you.’

‘And I don’t get a say?’ I mumble drily.

‘Of course not,’ she gives me a tight smile. ‘I know best for you, dear. He will call on you in,’ she pauses as she glances at the mantle clock, ‘one hour. Please do make an effort. This is your only chance to escape that…demon,’ she grits her teeth, unable to even say his name out loud.

I mumble something before I make my exit, going to my room and waiting for the so-called meeting.

No matter how much my mother may love me, and I do believe she does, she is also entirely too invested in her coven.

Unfortunately for me, not only am I the second-born, but I also have my powers bound, which means that aside from the curious mark on my chest, I won’t serve for much in her world. As such, as long as she thinks I am safe on the other side of the ocean, I know she will not bother with me again.

Mary helps me prepare to receive Mr. Creed, and all the while I cannot help but be curious about what Amon had in mind.

Just who would he send to play the role of this Mr. Creed?

When the hour comes, I go to the drawing room to meet my intended.

‘Elizabeth, come,’ my mother exclaims. ‘Just in time. This is Mr. Creed.’

‘A pleasure to meet you, My Lady,’ he drawls, the bass reverberating through my entire being.

My lips tip up in a polite smile.

‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Creed.’

Our gazes meet, holding, arresting.

Oh, the rogue!

I don’t know how he managed such a ruse, but he looks like another person.

Dark hair, dark eyes, everything about him is different.

Everything but the essence, and the voice that I would recognize anywhere.

‘Why don’t you sit there with Mr. Creed and talk.’

My mother is quick to steer us to the sofa, telling us to take our time getting to know each other while she moves to the other end of the room to give us some privacy.

I maintain my pleasant smile as I gaze at him, studying him. Despite looking so different, he isn’t in any way less striking. In fact, my attraction to him goes beyond looks. It’s something at a more primal level.

It’s his mere presence, his essence that intoxicates me.

‘You’re crafty, I’ll give you that,’ I murmur in a low voice.

‘And you’re not too sore, I hope?’

I shake my head lightly.

‘How can no one tell? How did you even do this?’

‘I can change my eye color at will,’ he says just as he does a brief demonstration. ‘My natural color is light, but my mood often influences the shifts.’

‘And the rest?’

‘I can slightly alter my physical appearance so I won’t be recognized. But the rest is here,’ he taps his forehead.

‘You’re using your mind tricks, aren’t you?’

A quick nod.

‘I won’t be able to stay long because of that. Though I changed my appearance a great deal, it’s the mind glamor that gives the impression I’m a completely different person. I didn’t want to risk anything with your mother in case she might find some familiarity.’

‘You can do it with more people at once?’ I ask in wonder.

‘Not for long though. It depletes a lot of my strength to control that many people. It’s even worse because your mother has strong mental barriers, so it’s almost double the effort to trick her.’

‘I see,’ I purse my lips. ‘I appreciate what you’re doing for me,’ I whisper, wishing I could reach out to touch him.

‘I’d do anything. This is but a small price to pay for knowing you will be mine. That we will be together, away from this place.’

My lips pull in a loving smile.

‘You’re quite the charmer, Mr. Creed,’ I speak out loud, feigning a giggle as I draw back.

My mother peeks over at us, nodding approvingly.

Amon takes my cue and engages in a monotone conversation to suit the circumstances.

Unfortunately, soon it’s time for him to leave.

The visits continue for a month, after which Mr. Creed makes his formal proposal, and I, ever the dutiful daughter, accept.

The bans are soon read and the following month we are both wedded and ready to depart for the colonies.

‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ my mother cries after the wedding, giving me a tight hug. ‘You know I love you and I want what’s best for you. You know that, don’t you?’

I nod.

‘I know. And I will be happy. I happen to like Mr. Creed and I am sure we will be happy together.’

She sniffles at my statement.

‘You know, if your courtship hadn’t worked out, I would have never forced you to marry him.’

‘You wouldn’t have?’ My brows shoot up in surprise.

She shakes her head.

‘I wanted you married, but I would have never forced you to accept someone you abhorred. I know how my marriage with your father went, and I’d never want that for you.’

‘Thank you for telling me,’ I say as I kiss her cheeks. ‘We may see each other again in the future.’

‘Anytime you need something, I’m one missive away.’

We hug some more and I help her wipe her tears before we say our goodbyes. Next I say farewell to my sister and my brother and I am finally ready to leave.

‘Please take care of my daughter,’ my mother tells Mr. Creed, giving him a warm hug.

Ah, but if she only knew she was hugging the exact demon she’d sworn to eradicate.

To keep up appearances, we embark on the vessel headed for the colonies, but as soon as the ship takes off, Amon gives me his signature smile and taking me in his arms, he transports us directly to the manor he’d built for me.

‘Welcome home, my bride,’ he drawls as he presents me with the entire grandiosity of the place.

Up on the hill, it’s far enough from the village to give us all the privacy we need.

‘I now have a surprise for you,’ he tells me as he leads me to our suite.

The bedroom is just as I remember it, but as Amon shows me around, I realize there’s more I didn’t get to see last time.

Two double doors lead to a small balcony, and Amon invites me to step inside.

‘What…’ I trail off as I see the wonder around me.

The balcony protrudes from the building, and looking down I note that the hill turns into a rocky cliff before it meets the ocean. Up here as we are, it feels as though we’re right above the shore—over the water.

‘I knew you would love this,’ he says tenderly as he fits his front to my back, cupping my midriff and hugging me close to him.

‘It’s such a wonderful view.’

‘Doesn’t it remind you of something?’ he inquires softly, laying his chin on my shoulder.

I don’t reply immediately as I stare at the picturesque scenery, something about it tugging at my heartstrings.

‘I-I don’t know,’ I whisper. ‘There is a certain melancholy, despite the beauty of it, but I do not know why.’

I feel him smile against me.

‘I have something for you.’

He draws back, but before I can protest his absence, he places something around my neck.

‘What…’ I bring my hand up to touch the necklace, feeling the smooth stone.

A current of electricity goes through my body, jerking me back.

‘Amon… What…’

‘It’s time you learned the truth, my love. It’s time you learned how it all started.’

‘What started?’ I frown, suddenly overwhelmed by a mountain of sensation.

‘Us.’

A simple word, but a complicated history.

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