16
All she needed wasa piece of chalk.
A piece of chalk, and an hour of privacy.
The first was easy. The moment she was back down in Gideon’s laboratory, and he had turned his back, she had secreted a piece away into her dress.
The second?
The second proved to be the real challenge.
First, she tried simply walking away. But either Gideon found her quickly, asking what she was doing, or a servant shadowed her steps.
Then she tried feigning illness. But her husband had placed his undead vulture upon the back of a chair in their room to watch over her while she slept.
She could not seem to get a moment to herself. For the first week that passed, it was irritating. For the second week, it was infuriating. Then, it became humorous for a third. But by the fourth week, she was beginning to feel desperate. The only time she had privacy was when she bathed and sent the servants away so that she might do it herself. Even then, she suspected she was being watched.
An hour—just an hour, even perhaps a half—to herself! It was so simple, and yet so far out of her reach.
If she outright asked him for the moment’s peace, Gideon would wish to know why. And if she answered truthfully, either he would refuse her or demand to be present. Neither of which were acceptable answers. If she lied, he would see through her façade with ease, she was certain.
One month turned into two. Two turned into three. It was winter now, and it proved to be a cold but surprisingly dry one. And for what it was worth, her life with Gideon was not…bad. It was wrong—entirely wrong—but it was not bad. She watched him in his studies and learned from him, as he proved to be the avid teacher. And with each scrap of magic she learned, she felt all the more confident in performing her task.
But everything she gained from him came at an unexpected cost.
She had grown to enjoy his presence.
He was handsome, witty, and powerful. He was kind to her, gentle and sweet, and still had made no attempt to seduce her or force her to make love to him. He slept beside her, and for the first month, did not even dare to touch her.
Damn him to the pits of Hell where he belonged, the monster was…winning her. She could feel it, no matter how hard she tried to push it away. The poison was seeping into her veins. Each time he walked into the room, she found herself happier for it. When he was absent, she found herself eager for his return.
The monster was sinking his claws into her heart. Slowly and tenderly, perhaps, but the action was all the same.
And it was month eight, just as the air began to crisp with the smell of autumn, that she found herself siting on his worktable with him standing between her knees. And she was kissing him. Her body reacted to his presence with a fervor that overwhelmed every should not that had echoed in her mind.
She wanted him.
It was wrong—a perverse expression of lust that she would wager was far worse than lying with three men in exchange for safety. For the lips that worked over hers in desperation belonged to a monster. A lich. A creature she had learned did not even possess its own soul, but instead had it tucked away and hidden somewhere that Death could not reach.
And she wanted him. Needed him. Wanted him to split her wide and fill her. Wanted his hands to roam over her naked flesh and possess her.
She was going to Hell. Her soul was now doomed. And there was only one reason for it. The monster was not winning her.
The monster had won her.
I love him.
Not in spite of his darkness.
But because of it.
The thought of the creature she saw in the village looming over her, taking her, claiming her—yes, oh, yes!
Gideon tightened his hands around her waist and yanked her close to him, and she moaned against his lips at the feeling of his presence there, outlined painfully against the fabric of his trousers. His fingers dug into her, almost painfully, and the profane sound she made only grew louder and more passionate. But it was drowned out by one of his own.
I love this evil, murderous, inhuman thing before me. And I want to feel him ravage me like I deserve.
She broke away from the kiss, gasping for air, her chest heaving and her heart pounding. He chased her lips, nearly frantic that they should begin again. She had to place her fingers over his lips and chuckle at his overeager response. “I—I need to breathe, wraith…”