“As I just said, sweet Elizabeth, I want to take it slow and enjoy every moment.” His voice was velvet. “I want you to remember this as a fulfilling, gentle experience. I am not the fiend that your movies and books have portrayed me, and I want you to know this first hand.”
Of course I had been more exposed than this when swimming or sun bathing, but the way he looked at me made me much more self-conscious; completely aware of how much he enjoyed the view. His eyes explored my body, moving slow, taking it all in. I trembled, anticipating his touch, longing for it, ready to surrender. Finally, I could wait no longer. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close.
“Your love, Elizabeth,” he whispered into my ear as he held me tight, “your love shall be the blood that courses through my veins.”
And as his lips trailed up and down my arms, neck, and face with such a sweet tenderness, it became impossible to imagine him ever being able to hurt me. When he observed the goose bumps on my arms he pulled his cape over me, and again, I wondered why he was still in his costume.
“I left my clothes back in the dressing room,” he said, answering my questioning thoughts. “I did not want to leave you even for a moment once you asked me to turn you. This cape is attached to the shirt and vest.” He paused for a moment as a sultry look crossed over his face. “However, I could take it off, if you wish...”
That comment made me wonder about his past, but I tried desperately not to think about it, not even sure if I wanted to know that part of his life. But I had to deal with the question he had just put forth. Did I want him to remove any of his clothes?
It was undeniable - I already desired him in more ways than imaginable and I wasn’t sure if I trusted myself if we were to lie together skin to skin. My slip was skimpy, barely there at all, and he reacted at once to my silent concerns. “Do not worry. I will change later while you rest.”
Emrys eased me over onto my stomach and began to rub my back, kneading the rigid muscles in my shoulders and neck. Now and then he’d bend to kiss me and his hair would fall forward tickling me each time he moved. I could only assume that he hoped to get me relaxed before the big event would begin. It actually worked for a short while, as I found it much easier to relax when I wasn’t looking at him. He gave a fantastic massage; his touch was warm and strong. Muscles that had been knotted like an old tree trunk, slowly loosened, however, the steady flow of currents from his hands, his lips, and even his hair, kept me in a heightened state of alertness. Had it been anyone else touching me, sleep would have been easy.
After he finished, I rolled over and took him into my arms, finding the same electrical force on my front side. It was surprising how relaxed I felt; the strange unearthly feelings didn’t seem to bother me any longer.
Our kisses grew more passionate, and at one point I thought about tearing his costume off myself and tossing away my supposed unwavering plan to remain chaste until marriage. I knew with every fiber of my being that we’d be together forever. What difference did a few hours and a little ceremony make? I had almost convinced myself to give in, and when he moved on top of me I believed it was only moments away. He seemed quite interested in going along with the idea in my mind, and as he positioned himself firmly in place, pressing his body down on me, I thought surely this was it. Our lips were still locked together as he took my hands and held them above my head. He then pressed more of his weight down - pushing me harder into the bed. My hands were now in a vice grip as he held them tight and I began to get the first inkling of being helplessly trapped.
I realized then that he had been working at getting me immobilized. Not ready for what I had been so eager to do - that would have to wait. It was now clear; I had mistaken his intentions. Oh, he was excited, to be sure, but not in the sense another man would have been. He wasn’t necessarily trying to arouse me at all. This was his way to prepare me to give myself to him in a completely different way and I now understood what was really about to happen.
As much as I knew I wanted this, a deep surging sense of fear crept over me; fear of the unknown, fear of pain, fear of death itself. It didn’t help when claustrophobia set in as he continued to restrain my arms above my head. He repositioned his legs and body in such a way as to keep me pinned, trapped; utterly and completely helpless.
My heart hammered - at first only in my chest. It then radiated its thunderous banging up into my head. The incredible speed and loud pounding of my heartbeats became deafening in my ears, and at the same time promised to burst through my chest wall in an explosion of searing pain. My panicked breathing came faster, spasmodic; a frantic panting. Air pumped in and out of my lungs, rapid-fire, making me dizzy. I tried to take deeper breaths, but found it impossible to get enough oxygen; the air had turned to thick molasses - suffocating and hot. My ragged breaths came loud and raspy; as though I was screaming.
Emrys gazed at me then, and sudden waves of ecstasy washed over me along with an acute awareness of what he experienced at that exact moment: He savored his supreme sense of dominance while keeping me restrained - powerless and at his mercy. He urgently hungered for my blood. And, he was quite noticeably aroused.
He stared at me, face to face, and I watched in awe as his eyes began to change. A dark red ring begin to encircle his pupils, and then the entire iris changed colors - first from deep black to brown, and then finally to red. He became a predator, focused and intense just before leaping for its prey. He appeared famished, and until that moment I never realized one could emit such a look. He licked his lips in a slow and deliberate motion, as though he could taste me already, his tongue pausing the shortest miniscule of a second on each sharp tooth. Closing his crimson red eyes, he eased my head to the left with his free hand, exposing my neck. Ripples of adrenaline coursed through my veins as I lay pinned down; no escape possible - my throat so vulnerable now, clearly defenseless and open to his attack. A low growl came from deep within his chest and a shiver washed over him, the electricity surging between us at its maximum voltage. He moved his head down, unhurried, but with determined intent. His hair fell forward draping across my face, and he took a long deep breath, inhaling my scent. Then, in one quick movement, he pierced my skin with his fangs. It was intense and sharp - but exquisite. The initial pain instantly changed to pleasure as Emrys began to emit murmurs of ecstasy - for now he had savored his first mouthful of my very essence.
He started out slow at first: sucking and swallowing. The hold he had on my upraised arms relaxed a bit, though not nearly enough to be free of his grasp. Amazingly, it never occurred to me to even try pulling away. Each moan grew deeper and louder as he quickened his drinking. And now, my heart pounded even more fiercely than before, drumming in my head – echoing, an angry, banging sledgehammer. My entire body pulsed with its rhythm. The thumping hammered so hard, so fast, that it was maddening.
They had all been right, the initial pain was minimal. Like getting your ears pierced, lasting only a moment or two. I felt more bothered by my own fears and the fact that I could barely control the strange noises coming from my voice, and the increasing sensation of having to escape. Yet somehow at the same time, I basked in the heightened awareness of the extreme pleasure that I freely gave to him, and more than that, according to all he had told me, this fresh, pure life force he took from me now would bond us in ways unknown to humans and fill him with more strength and power than ever. My mind went back and forth as I reeled between light-headed euphoria and the need to escape, from dizziness to claustrophobia. This vacillation would have been enough to drive me insane if the feeding continued much longer.
Finally, as my heart started to slow with the steady rhythm of his drinking, I became aware of a new sound that seemed to be localized in my right ear: a disgusting gurgling sound, followed by his swallowing. Gurgle and swallow, gurgle and swallow - like the sound of a straw when a thick liquid has almost emptied but for the bottom of the glass. These sickening sounds of the blood leaving my body were horrific and repu
lsive. A moment later nausea welled up and then the sweating started. All of a sudden I had the feeling that my throat had closed up and I started to choke. I was suffocating. Fearing what was next, coldness gripped me - my hands and feet grew numb, and I began to twitch and tremble as an icy emptiness enveloped me. A dreadful weakness followed - my body heaved upwards, and I knew my life had begun to ebb away. My heartbeat slowed. The thumping grew dimmer and slower still. And then I heard no sounds at all, no more gurgling noise, no breathing sounds. I felt no pain, fear, or angst. A deep, restful, and unforgettable serenity washed over me. My entire being relaxed as though I was floating - no longer a prisoner of this world. One last thing entered my mind, and that was the face of my Emrys as he lovingly caressed my cheek. And then my body and my mind became tranquil, void of all thought and care. Everything went absolutely and completely black.
* * *
Within the darkness came a peace I had never felt before. No sounds, no tastes, no feelings, or scents. First, only a dim awareness of myself- my spirit or my soul, my mind or my being, it all felt the same - it was still me. Then, little by little, all of my memories came back. I traced my whole life: from childhood to college, as a movie screen in my mind, I saw everything. And then, Emrys came to my mind’s eye. Pure, unfathomable feelings of love flowed over me. I knew he loved me - all of me: my past, my present, and my future. It was undeniably beautiful.
“Drink, my sweet Elizabeth. Drink of my élan vital as I have of yours.” With the sound of his soft whisper came the realization that I was not dead. As he cradled my head in his hand, lifting it with a gentle touch, I became aware of his sweet, spicy scent.
Something pressed up against my lips and all at once a new aroma filled my senses. The warm liquid spilled into my mouth. It was dense and sweet, coating my throat with a velvety smoothness. It warmed my insides immediately and gave me the sensation of being aware, having life, and waking up for the first time after a long, deep sleep. I never knew being alive could feel so incredible, so marvelous. I lifted my hands to his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin as he gripped the goblet. I pulled his hand closer and tipped the cup up, drinking in more and more of his vital essence, his life force...his blood.
“Not too fast, my love,” he said, whispering. “Savor the moment.”
I did. It invigorated me. This amazing sensation was like plunging into a cool ocean on a sweltering, hot summer day and feeling the water slipping over sun-scorched skin. There were no words for some of my feelings, but I was filled with images of pleasure; the joy of seeing the sunshine break through the clouds after a long week of rain, the sky broad and open, light and rich in oxygen. The delight in seeing the first snow cover of the year, when everything is cloaked - stark white, pure and unspotted. I felt overwhelming love for Emrys, unconditional and unending. And I was thirsty for more from the goblet. This sweet, red, and warm liquid. I’d found my dessert.
I eased open one eye, but the dimly lit room was far too bright for my new senses. This type of pain could cause an immediate migraine. Emrys placed a soft piece of cloth over my eyes to help keep the light out.
“There, keep those beautiful eyes covered for now.”
I knew another pain then: even though he spoke in a whisper, his barely audible words resonated as though I stood beside a reverberating speaker at its fullest volume. I let my head fall back down into the pillow, pulling the edges up around my ears to block out this noise. His soft touch on my hand felt as if he used a searing, hot iron and his gentle kiss to my forehead was fiery hot.
“Rest now, my lovely one,” he said. His muffled footsteps walking away sounded more like a stampede. And then, I dreamed.
CHAPTER 14
DEATH IS ONLY A DREAM
Discovering the ability to control my dreams was absolutely mind-boggling. The simple act of thinking of a question would bring me the answer. Some of the dreams came in simple images caught as a bit of a memory, like a photograph of a moment in time, and some came more detailed, as a short conversation or a short, silent film. There was no rhyme or reason to the order of the dreams, for in dreams - time does not exist.
* * *
Thinking about Emrys’ mother and what she looked like, I learned that she had beautiful eyes just like his: striking, but darkest amber, with thick dark lashes. Phoebe was her name. Her hair was darkest chocolate brown, always worn up as was common for her day. Her personality was one with a gentle and loving spirit, her smile warm and soft. I caught a glimpse of Phoebe as she scolded her son when he was unruly, but she never raised her voice. Sitting him on her lap, she persuaded him with a gentle and quiet voice, explaining the importance of obedience and truthfulness, regardless of the outcome. She smiled while teaching him to forgive others even when they did not deserve it. Phoebe’s hugs were generous, and sometimes given without merit. She taught Emrys to be kind, to love nature, and always use good manners. I dreamed about their happy times together: trips to the ocean or the big city. On their walks in the woods she’d point out plants and animals and he helped her gather wild mushrooms. She read to Emrys every night before bed, showing him the blessing of books. Some of his favorite memories from childhood started out with the soft-spoken voice of his mother, saying: “Once upon a time…”
At one point an intense pang of sorrow gripped me, and I realized that I now felt all of his feelings. This was his sorrow. Emrys missed his mother so very much, that I couldn’t bear the pain. I had to turn my mind away from his sadness.
Emrys’ father was a tall man, large in size and in spirit, strong, even-tempered, a kind and just man. Ambrose adored his family above all else, but he was a fair and just leader and always made sound decisions that would benefit their whole society. When Idris challenged his authority, Ambrose was initially shocked; knowing how fair he had always been, and secondly, deeply saddened that one in his own household had become so hungry for power. It was hard for him to acknowledge that anyone felt the need to take his place. He had a discussion with Emrys the evening before the fight, explaining to his son what should take place if he lost, and that Emrys should be sure to remain honorable and follow the new vampire Regent with steadfast loyalty as if he were his own father.
“My son,” Ambrose put a hand on Emrys’ shoulder. “Honor above all else. If Idris becomes our new leader, you must follow him. It is the way of the Ravens. Always remain loyal to your Regent.”
I felt the chaos churning within his young mind, the horrible conflicting thoughts as he listened to his father. Emrys’ decision was made prior to the battle; he would obey his father’s wishes no matter what transpired, even though the thought of having to respect and honor Idris vexed him greatly.
“Yes, Father.” Emrys held his head up high. “I will.”
I watched the battle from behind his eyes. It was long and brutal, using only wits and fists, no weapons were allowed. Both men followed the rules of engagement. The first to fall unconscious would be the loser. Before long both were bloody and staggering. Idris succeeded in landing a direct hit to the mouth with his large ring, causing the blood to flow freely from Ambrose. In his arrogance, Idris allowed this small success to go to his head, smiling and dancing about with a prideful swagger. Ambrose blindsided him with one quick and powerful fist to the temple. Idris went down with a heavy thud and Ambrose won. The cheering onlookers moved in and carried their beloved Regent away, leaving Rohan glaring angrily after them, tending to his father alone, his face flushed with shame and rage.
Emrys cheered inwardly, although he contained himself in pubic and showed no animosity toward Idris, just as his father would have expected of him. When they were alone later that evening, Emrys congratulated Ambrose, embracing him. He was proud of his father, and relieved at the outcome. The words his father spoke remained with him.
“Always remember, my son, there are fates much worse than the loss of your place in our society.” As it turned out, it would have been a better fate for all concerned, if Ambrose had lost th
at battle.
My dream jumped then to the horrific day when their fate turned on them. I couldn’t see the actual attack on Phoebe; it had taken place out of everyone’s sight. But the resulting consequences were seen by all. Emrys watched as his father stormed out of their private quarters, his face wrenched in agony, red and swollen from anger and tears. Emrys turned an ear toward the door, hearing his mother weeping hysterically and before he followed his father, he sent the woman, Tansy, to comfort Phoebe.
He found his father in the armory as Ambrose took out his sharpest double-edged sword. Emrys tried to stop him, reminding him of his honor as Regent, but none of his words mattered. Ambrose had already made up his mind. “I have already lost your mother! What does it matter if I lose my own life?” His voice was cold and raw.
Of all his memories, this was the only one Emrys had in which true fear took hold of him. He followed Ambrose to Idris’ private quarters and watched as his father kicked in the main door. In all his life he had never seen his father so full of hatred.
Ambrose called Idris out with an order to meet in the courtyard, telling him to bring his own sword. This battle would be to the death, unlike their first one.
Through the open doorway Emrys saw the surprise on Rohan’s face which immediately changed to a sneer of contempt when their eyes met. Even though Rohan chose the role of arrogance, Emrys had to believe that, deep inside, he must be feeling the same clutch of fear as he did. One thing was certain; they were both aware that before the day was out, one of them would be fatherless.
I only allowed myself to see a part of the sword fight. The ferocity and rage within Ambrose made for the most violent battle Emrys had ever witnessed in his life. With a frenzied look in his eyes, Ambrose slashed and sliced bits and pieces of his enemy: a finger here, a piece of arm there, and then an ear. All natural forms of true swordsmanship gone, no holds barred: Ambrose became a monster of revenge.
The Ravenswynd Series - Boxed Set Page 19
