A Dark Collection

by Emma V. Leech

  “Indeed, ma soeur adoré,” he replied, clearly amused. “But if she’s an innocent, I’ll commit myself to the monastery and have done, for I have clearly lost my instincts for the hunt.”

  Sindaline looked up at him in surprise and then scowled. “Either way. Leave her be. She’ll get all moon struck over you and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “You know as well as I do that I am perfectly open about my intentions. If they wish to deceive themselves into thinking I am anything more that I appear to be ...” He shrugged and she tutted at him and they finished the dance in silence.

  ***

  Yvette had watched Sindaline and her brother disappear into the melee of swirling figures below, wishing above all things that she could dance too. She sighed and went to take a sip of wine when she noticed her glass was empty. She was well aware she had drunk it far too quickly but it was a warm evening and with nothing else to do and her nerves all on end, she hadn’t notice it go. In fact, she really needed another. Looking around for one of the dozens of wine waiters that were threading though the crowds of people, she pouted in annoyance when it appeared there was not one of them nearby. A moment later and she was shocked when the glass was plucked deftly from her hand and another, full one, handed back.

  She turned in surprise to thank the clever waiter who had spied her predicament, only to come face to face with a pair of golden eyes which regarded her with some amusement.

  “I do so hate to see an empty glass.” His voice was soft, a caress upon the heated air though he stood a respectful distance from her.

  Yvette stood gaping, quite at a loss for anything to say to the man before her. Everything she had dreamed and planned had been with this goal in sight, and now ... Her heart stuttered and she took a breath, trying to find enough wit to smile at him at least instead of simply staring. He was dressed in a white shirt, with black trousers and leather boots, a thigh length black velvet jacket, and a silk waistcoat beneath, exquisitely embroidered with white roses and thorns. His hair was long, falling to his shoulders; as deep brown and glossy as a conker, dressed with a few tiny plaits threaded with gold thread and beads. She felt the intense blush burning on her cheeks before her senses finally returned and she sank into to a low curtsy as Sindaline had instructed. “Your highness.”

  The Prince Corin gave her his hand to raise her up again and Yvette felt her heart pick up when she was confronted with those incredible eyes for the second time in her life. She had wondered many times if her young brain had deceived her, somehow gilded his image upon her memory, making him more than he truly was. Well her mind had indeed deceived her she thought struggling through a haze of shock - he was so much more than the memory. In her mind he’d been a beautiful image, perfect and unattainable. But now he stood before her, radiating power with a raw, pagan edge and far more desirable than she had ever imagined. He gave her a slow smile, tilting his head a little. “You like to live dangerously I feel, my dear.”

  Yvette blinked and didn't know what to say. “I... I do?“

  The prince chuckled and tucked her hand under his arm, leading her away from the balcony. “You know as well as I do that you should not be here.”

  She stopped in her tracks, looking at him in alarm and he patted her hand reassuringly. “Oh don't worry. It will be our little secret. I won't tell a soul ... Providing you come and dance with me, that is,” he added with a wicked glint in his eyes.

  She smiled and hoped the breathless sound she had made was a clear enough acceptance of his offer. “How did you know?” she asked, when she could finally manage to force the words out.

  He bore her down the stairs and plucked the glass from her hand once more, leaving it on an adjacent table before leading her onto the dance floor. “I see rather more than most,” he replied with a cool smile before placing his hand on her waist and pulling her firmly against him. The music began again and Yvette was granted a glimpse of the duke of Dannon's face before the prince whirled her into the fray with ease. The duke did not look pleased. Corin, however, was looking very satisfied indeed.

  ***

  Sindaline bit back a smile as she saw Corin leading Yvette onto the dance floor. She very much hoped that Yvette would heed her advice, though she had known from the start this was inevitable. Yvette had come here with one intention and despite Sindaline's constant warnings, it looked like she was well on her way to achieving it.

  “Be careful what you wish for, my dear,” she muttered as her brother swore beside her.

  “Damn him,” he said, watching the prince take Yvette in his arms. Sindaline smothered a laugh as the prince sent her brother a brief salute in acknowledgement of his own victory. She grasped the opportunity and took advantage of Dannon’s lapse of attention as he cursed his cousin, the prince, in more colourful terms than he would normally use in his sister’s presence. She disengaged herself from his side and hurried away into the crowds, in the direction she had last seen Laen.

  The gloomy corner of the room he had been brooding in was now devoid of a large male presence, however, which was most depressing. More encouraging, though, was the blonde Faery moping by the large potted fern, looking very put out indeed. Sindaline chuckled. Laen was known for having a sharp tongue and a fierce temper. Handsome as he was, not many were brave enough to risk it. Blondie looked to be regretting her decision to engage him in conversation and Sindaline swept past her with a haughty sniff. She was made of sterner stuff than that.

  She hadn’t seen Laen for months. He was reclusive by nature and shunned all but Corin’s company, which was strange as Corin was about as sociable as you were likely to find. They seemed an odd friendship to many. Laen a dark cloud to Corin’s golden sun but friends they were and had been since childhood. Nonetheless, the animosity between Corin and her brother meant that she had few opportunities to see Laen, and to find him at a social event happened so rarely ... She wasn’t about to miss the opportunity

  The likelihood was he had gone to hide in Corin’s library in the hope of getting some peace and quiet. Well, she chuckled to herself, he was out of luck there. She left the ballroom and was heading towards her target with determination when a hand grasped her arm and pulled her behind one of the pillars that edged the grand entrance hall. She squealed with indignation as she found herself pressed up against that same pillar with the duke of Ravendell’s cool, silver eyes looking down at her.

  “Let me go!” she hissed. Furious but unwilling to draw attention to herself in such a compromising position, she scowled up at him, enraged as he regarded her with an amused smile.

  “All in good time, kitten,” the duke said with a smile curving his delectable mouth. “And where is it you are going in such a hurry?”

  She tried to push him away, but he grasped her wrists and held them up against the pillar beside her head. “None of your damn business!” she replied as her heart beat, frantic as wings against the cage of her ribs.

  “Oh, kitten,” he said with a wounded expression. “Is that any way to address me?”

  “Very well,” she snapped, injecting as much venom into her voice as she could muster. “None of your damn business, your grace!”

  He laughed, a wicked and decadent sound that thrilled her far more than she wanted to admit. The scent of him, the heady perfume of power and magic coiled around her and made her want to lean into him, but she repressed the desire and held herself hard against the marble at her back.

  “Well a little better, kitten,” he said, his sigh fluttering against her neck and making her shiver. “But really ... I do feel someone should teach you some manners.” His voice was low, pitched for the intimate space between them, and the look on his face was leaving her in no doubt as to who he thought that person should be. From what she had heard about him she also had a fair idea what his methods would involve. The idea made a flush creep from her cheeks, down her neck and across her chest to areas that had no business feeling hot in this man’s
dangerous presence.

  “Don't call me that!” she said with as frigid a tone as she could manage when her body felt like it was about to combust.

  “But you are my little kitten,” he said, mocking and speaking the nickname against her ear so that she felt the word on her skin as much as heard it. “Sweet little cat, curled up in front of my fire.”

  She flushed, furious and embarrassed. She had made a most reckless and stupid mistake in accepting a friend’s challenge to visit the duke's house on the night of one of his notorious parties. The evening had been eye-opening and she had been in the house for mere seconds before she learned she was way out of her depth. The guests had arrived, everyone masked and wearing heavy silk dominos with deep hoods ... And little else. Unable to escape until her erstwhile friends were ready to go, she had hidden in the house. In the early hours of the morning, chilled to the bone, she had found a fire blazing in an empty room and sat in front of it to warm herself, only to wake up many hours later when the Duke discovered her, curled up like a cat in front of the fire, much to his amusement. Ever since, he had taunted her with her new pet name.

  “I wonder what your handsome brother would say if he knew where you really were that night,” he said, his innocent expression highlighting his angelic profile, until you got to the cruel glitter in his eyes.

  Her own eyes widened with alarm as she pictured the months ahead, shut in her room as punishment. “You promised! You promised me you wouldn't tell!”

  He let one of her hands drop to touch the curve of her jaw with his fingertips, those long, elegant fingers trailing over her skin to her lips where one finger remained, as though he were asking her to keep a secret. “Don't tell me you really thought there would be no price for my silence, kitten?” he whispered, making her breath catch. “Surely you know me better than that.”

  She smacked his hand away. “I know you are a wicked, cruel, hateful... Oh!” She gave up as each adjective just made him smile wider and he laughed at her.

  “Oh dear,” he said, his expression almost fond as he looked down at her. “My naughty, pretty kitten. Really, you should be more honest, at least with yourself - if not with me. You know I am the one that makes your skin heat when you think of me, if you would only admit it.” She glared at him in disbelief but he was deadly serious. “You think you can make Laen happy, take away all that pain he likes to carry like a shield, and maybe you could, but it is his pain that attracts you and once it is gone you will grow bored. You like trouble, sweet kitten, and I am more trouble than you can possibly imagine.”

  Outraged, she glared at him open- mouthed. “You don't know the first thing about me!” She threw the words back at him, despite a gnawing feeling at the back of her mind that suspected he was right. “I believe you are trouble, that's for sure, but as for the rest ...”

  “I know plenty about you.” He interrupted, leaning closer, pressing his hard body against hers as she tried to back herself closer to the pillar. “I know that your heart is beating too fast.”

  She met his eyes, furious. “That is because you're scaring me, you ... ignorant fool!”

  “Ignorant?” A raised eyebrow at that. “I think not.” He pursed his lips. “And yes I scare you, as I should, but - that is not quite the whole truth - is it?”

  “It is!” she retorted. There was indignation in her voice but she was horrified to find ... She couldn't meet his eyes this time.

  He leaned down and kissed her neck, nipping gently as his lips made their way higher and his hand found the curve of her buttock, pulling her hard against him, and leaving her in no doubt of how much he was enjoying their little encounter. She gasped and closed her eyes, wishing it didn’t feel as desperately exciting and dangerous to be with him. Wishing he wasn’t right. “It is early yet and you are lucky I am still sober, so I will give you one chance. I am going to let you go now,” he said, his breath fluttering like butterfly wings against her skin. “I will let you run away from me ... but if you stay tonight I will pursue you and I will catch you and we will see just how much trouble you can take.” She looked up to see the truth of his words reflected in those cold eyes. “So ... are you feeling brave, little kitten ... or will you run away home?” He stepped away, letting her go and she stumbled a little without him to prop her up. She was suddenly adrift, raw and unsure of what she was feeling. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold without the heat of him against her. None the less she put her chin up, looking at him defiantly and he smiled at her. “I hope to see you again soon, little kitten.”

  She watched him walk away from her, sleek, elegant and so very, very dangerous and couldn't deny the way her blood had thrilled in her veins at the touch of his lips on her skin. She wondered what, exactly, he had in mind for her if she stayed and suppressed a shiver. She scolded herself severely. There was recklessness and then there was sheer stupidity. Sindaline had done some dangerous things in her life but stupid she wasn't. She turned and ran to find her brother.

  Chapter 3

  "Why did you come?" Corin asked Yvette as they rotated with the rest of the dancers.

  She had pondered what her answer to this question would be for many hours once she had known of the ball, but it wasn’t until this very moment that she actually knew what to say. She decided she may as well be bold, after all this was one night of her life that would never be repeated. There was little point in being shy, not after all the effort she’d been to.

  “To see you again,” she said in a rush.

  He didn’t seem particularly surprised by the answer, but he frowned a little. “Again? I feel sure I would remember if we had met before.”

  “It was some time ago.” She gasped, as the speed of the dance seemed to be picking up and she mentally thanked Sindaline for having had the good sense to teach her how. The prince, however, was a rather different partner to her pretty friend. His arm was locked about her, keeping her body pressed tightly against him despite the way he whirled her around and he kept his eyes on hers, not allowing her to drop her gaze until the dance ended. She tried to take it in, to commit every detail to memory, the way it felt to be held in his arms, the heat of him where their bodies met, the way he smelled of spring, of the grass after rain ... of life.

  When he spoke, he was serious, his eyes hard. “I’m afraid you do not know what you are about, child. I take it Sindaline brought you here?” She didn't answer and he sighed. “I will arrange for someone to escort you home now. You have seen more than most humans. You should take that for the chance it was and be content. It is time you left - before you get into trouble.”

  “No!” she clung to his arm, bitterly disappointed. “No, please, I don’t want to go,” she pleaded, and then her temper flared as she saw amusement lurking in the rich, decadent gold of his eyes. She wouldn’t be denied, not after all this time. “I won't go,” she said, defiant. “I won't.” She took a breath, trying to calm herself. “Please,” she added, a little softer, cajoling. “Just a little while longer. Please ... let me stay.”

  Those golden eyes regarded her with interest. “I really feel it would be better for you if you left.” She shook her head resolutely and he reached forward and touched her cheek with his finger, tracing the line of her jaw. “What, exactly, is it you want?”

  She felt her breath catch and squirmed a little under the intensity of his gaze, but her eyes couldn’t help but fall to his mouth as she imagined ...

  That mouth curved into a knowing smile as she searched, hopelessly, for an answer to his question. “I see,” he said, and she felt for sure that he really did, and suddenly she understood his previous comment; he really did see more than most. One thing was for sure, she wasn’t going anywhere, not yet. Instead she just stood there, staring at him as she fought for breath and he took her hand. “In that case, I believe it is high time we got reacquainted.”

  He walked easily through the crowds as people parted before him and Yvette felt their eyes on her, some curious,
many envious, some downright hostile. She held his hand tight and followed where he led. There were huge glass doors all along both sides of the ballroom and he drew her through one and out onto the balcony, down the steps and into the garden. The night was warm, sultry and she felt heat prickle down her back as she followed him into the shadows cast by a large moon, silvering the countryside around them with its pewter light.

  He led them further into the grounds, past statues that glowed white in the moonlight and Yvette couldn’t shake the idea they were watching them. She started at an animal’s cry that pierced the night, and Corin chuckled. “That is the least of your concerns, my dear.” His eyes flashed amber, wicked and wild in the darkness and she felt breathless.

  He carried on until they came to a covered pathway, row upon row of arches, with a tangle of climbing roses covering the pretty trellis. The leaves were thick and green, the buds tightly furled, and Corin snapped one from the bush. He held it in his hand and the bud opened, blooming at his fingertips, the petals a deep ruby velvet in the moonlight.

  “For you.”

  Yvette reached forward and touched the petals with the tip of one finger; she smiled at him and shook her head. She knew better than to accept his gift.

  “Ah, Sindaline gave you some guidance at least ... before she left you for the wolves to toy with.” She bit her lip and he smiled. “But then she told you to stay far from us too, didn’t she?” Yvette said nothing in reply to this and he dropped the rose carelessly to the floor. Stepping closer he bent his head to whisper in her ear. “Want to know why they call us the wolves?” She nodded, a tiny movement that made her earrings dance. “Because we eat up all the pretty little lambs.” He chuckled as she blushed, and he moved his mouth closer, his lips brushing her ear. “Want to go home yet?” She could feel his breath, warm against her skin, and shivered but shook her head.