Cursed by Diamonds (A Dance with Destiny Book 1) (11 page)

Alas, when Merodach discovered his dark realm drained his new loves of all their beauty—eventually turning these lovely women into mere shadows—he began calling them his Shadow Wraiths. They were deathly, hauntingly frail looking. But he would soon find an irreplaceable use for them. They were still
his
, no matter their form. They eagerly did his bidding—more loyal than any hired guard.

It was too easy for the handsome Prince. And since women eagerly flocked to his side, he soon found himself wanting a bit more of a challenge.

“There is nothing new under the sun. Only someone new to do it with,” he boasted.

This gorgeous young hunter became restless with his current prey. He needed a bigger thrill. That’s when he decided to create a mysterious mark and place it upon the desired maiden. He would then send his new wraiths by cover of night to kidnap the unsuspecting young lady and bring her to him. This made the game more interesting, added the delicious element of fear. But, this too soon changed.

The change came when he marked an enchanting young woman who was so terrified of his wraiths, her fragile heart gave way. She died there before him, collapsed lifeless at his feet. This was the first time he had witnessed
true
terror in a woman’s eyes—terror enough to extinguish life. It was a thrill like none other. The adrenaline caused by such a thing was euphoric and addicting. It aroused within him all new unimaginable lusts.

He soon added pain to the marking of the intended victim. Thus was born the idea of the scorched flesh and twisted black heart. With this new mark, their dread was increased by the long unknowing wait for his witches to come and snatch them away. Their horror aroused him in ways he had never anticipated, brought him to heights of pleasure he had not thought possible.

When news reached the Elven lands of how his powers were being used and how his horrific games had evolved, the elders sent for the banished Princess.

Being separated from her people, she had aged quickly. When she learned of the atrocities befalling the unsuspecting women of the world, she fell to her knees and wept bitterly. The feeble Princess spent the remainder of her days trying desperately to help as many women as she could by imparting a protective blessing on each worthy family she could reach. This blessing was intended for every female of their bloodline throughout their generations.

The Elven Princess faded all too soon, her life ceasing long before she had warned enough people of the evil she had unwittingly loosed upon their daughters.

The Elves sank even farther away from man. So far in fact… no one even speaks of their existence to this day. Save in the bedtime stories for young children, aptly called Fairytales.

Many years have passed, but the vast magic Merodach possesses keeps the Prince and his bride almost eternally youthful and beautiful.

 

*****

 

The excited Prince was busy in his preparations for Jenevier. Everything had to be perfect. This time was different. He could feel it,
feel
something changing. Merodach had never experienced this level of anticipation before. His skin tingled with the encompassing awareness. He smiled… he
knew
… an epic evolution was at hand. And it was thrilling.

“Not even the first one gave me this much pleasure. I can feel the approaching deluge within me. This maiden is the one. Jenevier will be the start of something new, something remarkable. She is blessed with such angelic beauty, such deliciously enticing innocence. But her smile… ahh, that inspiring smile. It could halt the forward march of a thousand blood thirsty warriors. And… she is mine.”

He heard the paralyzing shrieks approaching in the distance.

Ah, my Shadow Wraiths return. Come to me, my darlings. Bring me my prize. Oh how I long for her.

 

Chapter 10

Dante

(DON-tay)

 

 

 

The bloodcurdling screech which had emanated from the book had stunned Jenevier. But she screamed out with fresh terror when her bedroom door came crashing in—splintering nearly off its hinges.

Dante exploded into the room, wild-eyed and terrified. “Are you okay? Jenevier! What happened?”

“By all that’s holy.” She gasped, clutching her chest. “What in the hell are you doing?”

She suddenly burst into tears, trembling uncontrollably. He ran to her, panic-stricken. She saw the concern in his lovely gray eyes as he sat down beside her on the bed, tenderly stroking her hair.

“What is it, my love? What has happened?” He glanced around the room. “Has someone harmed you?”

She collapsed against his chest, tears pouring forth as if a dam had burst within her. It was all the years of loneliness, all the sleepless dream-filled nights, all the heartache and disappointments she plainly felt but couldn’t clearly remember—it all cumulated into this single moment. Fear had rattled her inner barriers and she broke under the weight of it.

Dante tried to comfort her, tried to reassure her. Finally, he gave up and just held her, let her cry. Borrowed strength and compassion were what she needed right now. And he was more than willing to provide it.

When her tears began to slow, she laid her throbbing head back upon a pillow—trying to muffle her bitter sobs, yet failing miserably.

“I’m going to get you a drink and a cold towel for your head.”

When he returned, she was sitting up in the middle of the bed, her head resting on her bent knees.

“Beautiful lady, are you feeling better?”

Dante’s brilliant smile lit up the room. She tried to smile back.

“Here you go, little one. Have a drink. Just a sip, mind you.”

He handed her some wine as he gently brushed back her mussed hair, tucking it behind her ear.

So delicate… so beautiful
, he thought.

She looked at him then, truly looked at him.

“…Dante,” she whispered softly.

The fear and concern still racing through his veins was evident in those beautifully haunting eyes. Jenevier gazed deep into them.

“…Dante,” she whispered again.

When she lightly touched his brow, his dark pupils grew wide, drowning out the gray—swallowing it, leaving only a sparkling silver edging. Then she touched his cheek, running her fingertips across his soft, tanned flesh. Those large black centers continued to swell with each tender touch, almost obliterating the silvery gray ring.

He cupped her hand in his—shaky, trembling fingers caressing hers. As he calmed, the darkness consuming his irises lessened. The true beauty of his mesmerizing eyes was now accentuated by the soft glow of the streaming moonlight.

Jenevier sucked in a quick breath, mesmerized.

How are eyes such as these even real?

Silver flecks highlighted the pale blue ones she could now see. Silver, blue, violet, black—all blending together, beautifully creating the enchanting gray that took her breath away. A vivid, ethereal color. One that held a strangely odd contrast to his dark skin and auburn hair. She smiled. As did he.

Tiny moonbeams played upon those wavy dark tresses. She couldn’t help but reach for them. Gently fingering a single lock, Jenevier wholly admired the rare beauty that was this man before her. She twisted the loose curl around her finger. Golden blonde strands mingled together with the brown, the burgundy, and bright red ones—blending perfectly into that lovely auburn color. A warm color, fondly bringing to mind the changing of leaves in autumn.

“Like… snowflakes and falling leaves,” she whispered, captivated. “You are a mixture of winter and fall, Milord. Hot and cold. Fire and ice.”

“And
you
, Milady, are sunshine and springtime.” He wrapped one of her curls around his finger. “A brilliant ray of the glorious sun—golden curls framing deep blue eyes of placid water. Ethereal beauty encompassed about with the enticing scent of rosebuds. You are as all things fresh and newly born.”

Oh god… he is perfect… too perfect. I have got to get away from this dangerously exquisite man. Yet, I don’t want to… I only want to get closer to him.

She rolled her eyes when her internal warning bells started clanging again. She was beginning to hate them.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened?” he softly said.

She took a long, eager drink of the sweet rich wine. “What happened? You mean you don’t remember?” She took another drink. “You kicked my door in, Dante.
That’s
what happened. You nearly scared the life right out of me.”

He chuckled as he gently placed the wet cloth across her forehead. “No, tiny angel. Before that. Why were you screaming? I’ve never heard anything quite like it before. My heart froze in my chest. I feared for you, Milady.”

She used the damp cloth to wipe the tear stains from her face. The cold water helped immensely.

She released a deep sigh. “Screaming?”

“Yes, Princess, before I burst through your door. I heard a shriek that made my blood run cold. Wild thoughts tore through my mind, Jenevier. I know not how I would handle it if something terrible were to happen to you, my love. I have only just found you.”

The concern in his steely eyes was evident. He was telling the truth. Anyone could plainly see
that
.

She looked at him, surprise tempered with a bit of joy. “You’re only trying to be sweet so I won’t be angry about the door.”

He smiled knowingly at her, realizing his openness had made her a tad bit uncomfortable. Gently taking her chin in his hand, he looked deep into her eyes.

“I didn’t even realize it myself… until I thought I might lose you. I never want to lose you, Jenevier. You have effortlessly captured my heart and the whole of my mind.”

“Kind sir, it has only been but a couple of days. Imagine how hard it will be for you if I were to vanish, say, a week from now.”

She chuckled lightly and took another sip of wine. He didn’t return her laugh or her smile. She noticed the firmness on his face.

“I love it when you tease me, fair lady. But I also want you to know when I’m being completely genuine as well.”

She had no witty comeback. She just held her breath. Sitting before her was an incredibly gorgeous man. He was in her room, on her bed, trying to tell her she meant something special to him. She wanted to freeze this moment in time so she could revisit it whenever she felt like having that butterflies-in-the-tummy joyous feeling again. He was looking into her eyes… and she couldn’t even find words to describe the war that was raging inside her. She was terrified and gloriously happy all wrapped up together.

“So, are you going to tell me?” he pressed.

Staring at him, thinking about him, consumed in her own thoughts… she had lost all track of the conversation. “Tell you what?”

“Were you dreaming again?” he whispered.

A terrible thought crossed her mind.
Dreaming? That’s it. This is all a dream. I’m fast asleep and fantasizing this whole thing.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing lightly. “You were screaming, Jenevier. Were you truly just dreaming?”

She suddenly remembered the book. Glancing quickly toward the darkened corner and then back to him, she decided against mentioning it. Instead, she just smiled, innocently.

“Yes, apologies. Those wretched dreams are but one of my
many
flaws. Please, do not look upon me as spotless, Dante.” She looked away. “Pray tell. What blessing comes my way that I should find you in my home at such an hour?”

Now,
he
was the one smiling shyly. And oh, how handsome he was. Boyish features danced across his masculine face.

“I felt badly for having to leave so abruptly this morning. I didn’t even get to make you breakfast. I thought I’d try to make it up to you—sneak in and surprise you with wine and sweets. I was hoping that if I impressed you… you might invite me to stay.”

He paused, looking down, absently running his long elegant fingers along the wrinkles in the crumpled bed sheets. He desperately wanted an answer, yet feared that very thing.

Please say yes. No, you shouldn’t… But, please… Let me stay.

His thoughts were as jumbled as his racing heart. He wanted her, yes, more than anything. Yet was too terrified to even wish it.

She gaped at him. “Stay? H-here? You mean… all night?”

He looked up in time to see the same glorious terror he was feeling, flash across her shocked face.

“I would never ask,” he whispered. “I simply said I was hoping for an invitation. My plan was to sweep you off your feet and you would beg me to stay.”

When he shot her a wickedly sweet smile, she scrunched up her nose at him.

“Then I heard this horrifying shriek and I completely lost my mind. I could only focus on getting to you, on saving you.” He dropped his head slightly, waiting for her response.

She looked at him lovingly, admiringly. He was fast on his way to stealing her heart, and she knew it.

“Gratitude, dear friend,” she whispered.

“No thanks are needed, Milady. I would be honored to serve as your constant protector and loyal friend. Would you be kind enough to bestow this great gift upon me? It would at least be a start.”

He smirked, sarcastically. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why are we so much alike?” she said through a smile.

“Are you saying we’d be good together?”

She could hear hope screaming out through his words. She chuckled, softly. “I said we’re a lot alike. That’s not necessarily a
good
thing.”

He didn’t return her laugh. He simply looked at her, longingly.

“Apologies, Dante. I shouldn’t have teased you. You deserve a proper answer. I’m just a bit, well…
uncomfortable
talking like this.”

He chuckled. “You, Maiden? You’re at a loss for words? I can’t believe you just admitted that.”

She laughed with him. He leaned over and tickled her feet.

“Gratitude.” She smiled and laid her hand upon his arm.

“For what?”

“For lightening the moment. You know exactly what to say and when to say it. I believe we complement each other well. I feel safe with you, Dante… comfortable. Having you here puts me at ease.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying… I think we would be good together. Dangerously so, I fear.” She blushed at own her admittance.

He grabbed her hands. “Are you being serious this time? I can’t tell anymore.”

Jenevier looked deep into his magical snowflake-colored eyes. “I can’t remember ever being more serious about anything in my entire life. At least, what I can recall of my life. And from the bits and pieces I can pull to mind,
you
have been my only bliss, Dante.”

The look on his face was sheer joy mingled with relief. He leaned over and kissed her, gently at first, but growing ever more passionate.

His touch melted her. She lost herself in him. Jenevier ran her hands up through his thick hair and rolled him over on his back. So many years of loneliness were weighing on her heart. The desires he had stirred within her were as a consuming fire.

He sensed her intensity and gave in to her.

She slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Kissing every inch of him, she grew heady with his intoxicating scent. She smiled as she ran her fingertips over the lines of his perfectly sculpted chest, feeling his taut muscles move just beneath the skin.

Oh dear stars… sooo sexy…

Dante shook off his shirt. The ripples of movement running across those same taut muscles caused her to moan. Unconsciously biting her lip, Jenevier took her time admiring his broad, strong shoulders. She was mesmerized by this sensual man. Lightly running her fingertips up the mountains that were his powerful arms, her captivating venture soon led her along the edge of his defined jaw line.

Wow… I could devour this incredible man… Utterly devour him.

Her exploration stopped only when she reached his soft lips, barely outlining their exquisite edge.

He saw the hunger in her eyes. “Do you approve?”

“Dante… You are like an ancient god—a grand warrior from times past. I am wholly captivated by you.”

“Does that mean yes?”

He smiled as he ran his arm around her waist, rolling her over. Looking down at her with those enchanting gray eyes, he mischievously flashed that teasing, smirking smile.

“My turn,” he half growled.

His first touch was like lightning shooting through her waiting body. His passionate caresses were more erotic than she could have ever possibly imagined. This enchanting man—ooh… he ignited a fervent spark within her, one that caused her budding desires to burst forth in full bloom. She moaned.

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