Authors: Jenna Payne
“Go on. Open it.”
Lizette grabbed the ends of the tiny bow between her fingers, pulling the twine until it opened and let the paper fall to the side. Before her was several dresses, all finely made and brightly colored.
Lizette ran her finger along the edge of one collar, admiring the ornate stitching that had obviously taken a great deal of time and skill to fashion. She looked up at Conrad.
“Are these
mine
?”
“Yes. Do you like them?”
Lizette stared at the garments before her. He’d brought her four dresses. The top one was dark-green, the same color as her eyes. She gingerly laid the first dress to the side, gasping at the delicate blue sleeping gown below it. Like the first, the attention to detail on the stitching was superb. She picked up the blue dress, holding it against her face and relishing in the soft texture of the fine fabric.
She set the blue dress on top of the green one, picking up the next one. This one was pale lavender, with dark purple stitching and embroidery.
“Oh Conrad. This is too much. I can’t take these.”
“You haven’t seen the last one yet.”
Lizette set aside the lavender dress, picking the final one up from the bed. It was a house dress, meant for everyday use. But even this dress was finally made and more beautiful anything that Lizette had even worn.
Dark chocolate in color, the stitching and embroidery were done in a soft pink thread. The effect was very feminine and Lizette struggled not to cry.
“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I don’t deserve these.”
With a heavy heart, she packed the dresses back into the wrapping and wound the twine around them.
Conrad placed his hands on hers, stopping her.
“What’s wrong?”
“All I’ve done is bring trouble everywhere I go. I can’t take these. You’ve already done too much for me.”
Tears fell down her face and she struggled to hold them back.
“Of course you deserve them. I bought them for you because I wanted to. You never asked for them, and I doubt you ever would have. You deserve all this and more. Why don’t you see that?”
“No one has ever been this nice to me.”
“Not even when you were small?”
Lizette scoffed, “Especially not when I was small. I’m an orphan, and my mother had been an outcast, so I was the lowest of the low.”
“It doesn’t mean you weren’t worthy of compassion.”
“It would be nice if the caretakers at the orphanage thought so, but I spent most of my life begging. They told me each day how my mom had looked at my red hair, whispered “Esther” and died. I was doomed from the day I was born. As soon as I turned sixteen, they threw me out of the orphanage, so I lived on the streets. I made money braving the forest outside the town walls and collecting berries to sell.”
“How did you end up in Dallin’s lair?”
“I was out picking berries, and an older woman came up to me. She appeared out of nowhere. I thought she was lost at first, but she knew my name. Someone grabbed me from behind and pulled a bag over my head. I woke up, and the woman was bathing me, talking about how I was a hope for the new future. She was talking about fattening me up and preparing me for the rigors of childbirth. She took me outside, and the minute she wasn’t watching me, I ran for my life.”
Conrad moved the dresses aside, cupping her cheek and rubbing the tears from her face with his thumb.
“And then I found you,” said Conrad.
Lizette nodded, tears streaming unbidden down her face.
“Do you know why Dallin is so obsessed with you?”
She nodded, her throat catching a sob as she tried to regain her composure.
“When Dallin was attacked by the vampire who turned him, he was engaged to be married. His love was so strong that nothing could keep him away from his Esther, even becoming a vampire. The town’s people chased him out of town, and several attempted to kill him. Esther threw herself in front of him, taking a stake to the heart and saving his life.”
Lizette shuddered as she recounted the tale she’d heard numerous times in her eighteen years.
“He killed half the town that night, draining some of blood and turning other to join his army. He vowed that he would have his revenge.”
***
Conrad waited patiently for Lizette to compose herself a little before he encouraged her to continue. He had a feeling he didn’t have half of the story yet.
“What does any of this have to do with you?”
“Esther was my great-great grandmother’s sister. When my mother saw my red hair as a baby, she thought I was the spitting image of Esther. Esther was only nineteen when she died.”
“So, Dallin won’t rest until he has you.”
“Exactly. He’s waited 200 years. He’s patient. He won’t stop until he’s destroyed.”
“That can be arranged.”
“It’s all my fault. If I had inherited my mother’s golden hair none of this would be happening. Dallin has a painting of Esther hanging in the main hall of his lair. If I didn’t know better, I would swear the painting was of me. Do you see now why I can’t take these dresses? Everywhere I go, I only cause pain. No matter what I do, I’m a burden.”
Conrad pulled her into his arms, hugging her against him and kissing her lips.
“You’re not a burden to me. I’m glad we found you.”
She searched his eyes. “Are you?”
“I don’t care what you are, or that you’re the spitting image of a woman long gone from this world. I love you for who you are.”
“You love me?”
Conrad was as surprised by his words as she. He hadn’t meant to declare his love, just to let her know that she wasn’t ruled by her station in life.
“I really do. I don’t know how that happened in such a short time, but I feel very deeply for you.”
She smiled softly at him, her tear-streaked face looking up into his. He kissed her forehead and held her close, breathing in the sweet smell of her freshly washed hair.
“Would you try one on for me?”
“Which one?”
“I think the blue one.”
Lizette moved back, looking at his face. He was smiling wickedly, the heat in his eyes unmistakable.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tear it when I take it off of you.”
Lizette blushed prettily. She stood quickly, grabbing the blue dress and ducking into the hallway to change.
She walked back into the room, dress flowing lightly from her waist, bare feet peeking out from beneath the hem.
“I’ll need to buy you some shoes, but the shoemaker makes them custom.”
She opened her mouth, but he held his hand up. “If you’re going to argue, save your breath. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Lizette closed her mouth, poking at the floor with her bare foot, trying to keep the blush from rising in her cheeks. Unaccustomed to receiving anything but harsh words, she really didn’t know what to say.
She stood in the middle of the floor, and Conrad stood. He walked around her slowly, admiring the fit. He congratulated himself on his good eye; the gown hugged her every curve, but softly. The effect was seductive yet sweet.
Standing behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her neck. A shiver ran through her, and she leaned against him. He towered over her and he could see into the neckline of her gown easily. Her soft breasts heaved against the fabric with each breath. He couldn’t see her nipples, but he could see enough.
Hands wrapping around her slender waist, he moved up until he was cupping her breast, his manhood swelling against her backside through the fabric of his pants. He held her breasts, feeling the weight with his hand while he moved her towards the bed.
Kisses trailed down her neck, pulling tiny moans from her throat as he worked his magic with his lips. Lizette struggled to contain herself, fighting the urge to throw herself on the bed and beg him to take her.
The fabric felt delicious against her skin, and her nipples hardened when the fabric rubbed against her under his hands. Heat radiated from her body, and Conrad could tell that she was already ready for him.
“You look beautiful in this dress.”
“Thank you. I feel beautiful.”
“I’m not going to take it off. I’m going to take you right here, while you’re still dressed.”
Lizette’s body tensed at his suggestion, his words driving her body into an internal frenzy. Without another word, he pushed her shoulders down, bending her over the high bed. He raised the hem of the gown up until it exposed her rounded backside.
He grabbed her cheeks a little roughly before slapping them lightly. He ran his hands over her pink flesh, rubbing the backs of her legs before sliding one hand between them, feeling her wet heat.
His trousers fell to the floor, and he pulled her hips roughly against him. She arched her back, giving him access to her sex. Slipping inside her, he began thrusting, hips locked in his large hands. Lizette grabbed a large pillow off the bed, wrapping her arms around it and burying her face in the softness.
A pleasant heat filled her with each thrust. His body stretched hers and she pulsed around him. His thrusting became almost frantic as he neared his own climax. Lizette tried to hold off the orgasm that threatened, wanting to draw out the pleasure. Her gown pulled around her waist. The cool air against her exposed skin felt delightful.
As her orgasm loomed, she tensed around him, sending him over the edge before joining him. She screamed into the pillow, the passion almost more than she could bear. Conrad groaned and moaned behind her, spilling into her with a final, rough thrust.
Panting, hearts racing, they both stood there in the sudden stillness after the frenzied love-making. Conrad stepped back, taking one last look at her tight backside before he dropped the hem of her gown back to the floor.
Lizette stood, rearranging her clothing while looking at him shyly. She wanted to say something, but none of the words that came to mind were enough to describe the pleasure he’d made her feel. She settled for standing on her tiptoes and giving him a sweet kiss on the lips.
He hugged her close and kissed her deeper, breaking away moments before Sterling walked into the cabin with their dinner.
***
Owen sat in the driver’s seat of the simple wooden wagon. Beth sat in the wagon seat, snuggled up against her husband. To an outsider, the trio looked like a couple and their hired-hand. Owen slapped the horse’s neck with the reins, urging the animal to move faster. He was eager to get this over with so he could move on. He wasn’t on this earth to serve anyone, even Dallin.
They took the path that circled around to the south for a bit before heading east again. They didn’t want to come up on the village from the protected forest because they knew that the bulk of the sentry cabins were concentrated on that side. Owen knew that Lizette was hidden away in one of those cabins, but they might be able to get help from the guard at the village gates. By now, all the guards, both human and Lycan would know about Lizette. With the older couple in the wagon claiming that she was their daughter who had been kidnapped from Ungerland, it wouldn’t be difficult to get the information they needed from the guard.
A small arrow nailed to a tree pointed left, indicating that Bradenton was less than four miles away. He looked over his shoulder, but Beth was already working on her distraught mother act.
Owen wondered how much of her distress was indeed an act and how much was genuine. Both the woman and her husband seemed to be happily serving Dallin. Owen couldn’t understand what motivated them. He hadn’t been in the lair a week and already he’d had a gutful of being looked at like a tasty morsel by every vampire that saw him. Dallin might think he was the king of vampires and commanded obedience from his minions, but it would only take one of them losing their self-control to end Owen’s life, and he’d seen how close they’d come to that. He wasn’t going to stick around to find out how long that would take.
He listened as Beth began to sniffle, obviously turning on the tears to make herself look pitiable. He smiled to himself. It would be an easy task to get the information they needed, and then he’d get his revenge on the Lycans before he disappeared into the woods to the east.
He’d already rigged the wagon hitch to let loose with a single pin. He would ride the horse hard until it couldn’t go any further. With his new appearance and in a town far east from here, no one would suspect they had a murderer in their midst. It was likely that his actions would start a war between the clans, making his story of fleeing Bradenton and being the only survivor and plausible one. He had it all worked out.
The couple in the back would have to fend for themselves.
If
they survived the encounter with the Lycan sentries.
The wagon crested a small hill, and Bradenton became visible in the distance. Owen braced himself. He’d loved his home, and the woman he’d killed had had it coming. He was angry at being forced out, and seeing the place he grew up and spent all of his thirty years tore at him. Those Lycans would pay for what they did. He’d make sure of it.