Desecrated Beauty (Twisted Fairy Tales #1)

by Kyleigh Castronaro

  Nero sat back down on the bed and watched her as she moved toward him, letting the robe fan out behind her like a train before climbing into his lap.

  Her heart was pounding like a drum, rhythmic and tantric to his ear. She was nervous, or frightened, and such a thing would’ve never been lost on him. But he didn’t levy it to his advantage as he watched her straddle his hips, professionally keeping her body away from his.

  What would she be like if she let go of some of her control? Not all of it, he would never presume that she would ever be able to let herself go completely, but if she were to just release the reins even a bit… She would be mesmerizing.

  Quill paused once she settled in his lap, considering for a moment what she was willing to do or not do in a bid to bring his guard down a little bit. She reached out, setting her palm against the curve of his neck and traced the muscles that ran its length and down his chest. Her eyes fluttered upwards to meet his as she pressed her palm flat on the spot where a beating heart should’ve laid and pushed him backwards onto the mattress.

  Her hips rose slightly, careful not to collide anywhere as she came down on top of him hovering over his body. His hands twitched in a desire to touch her, anywhere, but he was playing at her pace as he watched her move with the tantalizing speed known only by mortals. There was something to be said in their ability to not rush to completion. Too many of his kind focused on the goal and not the journey getting there. Quill understood the importance of build-up, not foreplay. It wasn’t sexual what she was doing by any means, but it made him ache with desire nonetheless.

  Her lips finally made contact and pressed against his jugular. It must’ve been a carefully considered move because it made him jump with excitement. Her enticing body leaning in closer against his and he growled, unable to contain the sound as it rumbled through his chest. Any other woman would be on her back by now, none had ever dared to tease him.

  He loved it.

  Her teeth brushed along the skin bringing another jolt of pleasure to him before they clipped his earlobe, teasing it into her mouth with her tongue. It was a slow dance, lapping and teasing with brushes of her teeth before she released it and moved to his jaw. Nero couldn’t bear it anymore, bringing his hands to her waist and sliding his hands up along her curves trying to brush the folds of material out of his way.

  Quill felt her stomach clench as she realized he was getting closer to the stake. She didn’t know why but a pang of disappointment seized her with the idea of needing to stop. But she had to before he found the stake. As quick as her human reflexes would allow her to move she pulled the stake out of its hiding spot and pressed it hard into his chest.

  Nero’s eyes flashed a dangerous dark red colour as he realized what she’d done and he stared up at her. It was all she needed to see to know what he’d be like if he lost control. The way his face contorted with anger, the attraction she felt toward him melted instantly and she found herself looking in the face of the beast she had known him to be.

  “What’s this?” His voice quaked, another indication of his loosely grasped control.

  “I have a few questions and you’re going to give me a straight answer.” She pressed the tip of the stake harder into his chest, watching the flesh bend around it and start to give. Would a simple prick be enough or would she have to bury it in his chest?

  “Alright.” His voice was tense, his muscles coiled so tightly he was ready to spring from beneath her. For a moment, she wondered if it mattered that she held a stake to his chest. He was still stronger and faster, capable of throwing her off him before she did any lasting damage and lose her upper-hand advantage.

  “Why am I here?”

  “I’ve never met a woman like you before.”

  “What do you mean?” Feminism couldn’t possibly be a concept that had been lost on him in the 100 or so years it had been around.

  “You’re strong, powerful, you have a heart of gold but beyond all that you exercise the same amount of control in all things you do as I do. I suspect this desperate attempt here is due to your lack of control recently. You have figured out that you are not the highest thing in your so-called food chain and you don’t like being the weaker creature.”

  “I’m not a one-off creation. There have and will be other strong women.”

  “Yes, I have known others that are physically strong or emotionally strong but never both. Everything about you is so mechanical and precise. Your control is a thing of beauty.”

  Quill felt herself flinch, “I’m not a robot.”

  “No, not a robot,” he repeated back softly, watching her carefully before seizing his moment. His hand closed around her wrist, twisting it awkwardly to make her release the stake before flipping them over so she was pinned under his body. Keeping his weight flat on top of her he found the stake and snapped it uselessly in half before tossing it away. “I’ll have to speak to my guards about checking more thoroughly… and with force.” His eyes flashed dangerously with the threat as she stared up at him, ever the defiant beauty.

  “I wasn’t done questioning you.”

  “I will continue to answer your questions, but the stake was unnecessary.”

  “Where is my sister?”

  “I made sure my guards escorted her further from the area where she will be able to escape the perimeter of the city’s agency and hopefully find a peaceful life outside of here.”

  “There’s nothing beyond the perimeter.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  Quill wasn’t, but she wasn’t going to admit it. What else was there to know about the takeover that she didn’t? She’d lived with a General, her father was rather high up in the city’s command how could he have possibly hidden this much from her?

  “No,” she admonished, staring up at him waiting for him to continue.

  “There’s other things out there besides witches and vampires. Considering our recent takeover, the others have started to feel it’s okay for them to come out of hiding as well. Others still prefer the quieter lifestyle. But they’re there and part of our coming out required that the council work with the councils of these other races to ensure that they’re kept happy. You wouldn’t want a race war. If you think the Blood Baths were deadly…”

  “But will my sister be safe?” That was the most important thing for her. She needed to be sure that her sister would live. It wouldn’t do to trade her freedom for Rose’s and then for Nero to “set Rose free” as he described only for her to get twelve feet away and killed by a rogue vampire.

  “She’s safe to the border, I’ve assured that much.”

  “Okay, what am I supposed to do here?”

  “Live, be free, whatever you want.”

  “Whatever I want, but I can’t leave?”

  “I’m afraid that is a difficult condition, but it is necessary.”

  “What would happen if I did leave?”

  “Well, for one, they would know that you’re still alive and that would put me in a precarious position. But it would also put us in a great deal of danger.”

  “I feel like you’re leaving something important out in that “whole truth” story you gave me.”

  “I left out the parts that were necessary.”

  “When promised the whole truth I expect the whole truth.”

  “It’s safer that you don’t know the whole truth, not just for yourself but for me as well. If someone was to find out you were still alive and capture you... If their will was stronger than mine, they might compel you for information and you could give away parts of my operation that could result in catastrophe.”

  “Is my life in danger here?”

  “Not in this house, but outside of it yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you are mine.”

  “You think I am yours.”

  “You are Isabelle. You have accepted my patronage, you are here living under my roof and you have accepted my protection. You owe me a debt and that makes you mine. Y
ou also smell like me to others.”

  “How is that?”

  “Every time I get close to you I ensure that more of my scent is transferred to you.”

  “I thought you were a vampire and not a werewolf.” Her blood went cold as soon as the nonchalant words left her lips. Werewolves: they had to be one of the races he had been talking about. Of course, they were real.

  “Yes, but vampires have an impeccable sense of smell as well as their sense of hearing. It is how we mark our humans.”

  “If you were to drink from me?”

  “It would make the bond stronger and no other vampire would be able to compel you.”

  She stared at him for a moment, mostly out of suspicion. “But you would be able to do it easier?”

  “Yes.” At least he hadn’t bothered to try and lie about that much. She didn’t know what was better - letting him drink from her and have that sort of power over her or not let him and be free game to every other vampire out there. Which apparently there were a lot of.

  “You know I can’t just live here and do nothing. It’s not in my nature.”

  “I suspected as much.”

  “So then why expect it of me?”

  “I had hoped that maybe you would be happy to have a place where you could relax and let yourself go a little more, that maybe you could take back some of that innocence that was stolen from you.”

  “My innocence wasn’t stolen from me.”

  “I suspect you had a difficult childhood by the way you live your life.”

  “You mean by how I do what I have to to survive in the world where your kind has placed us in a position where we fight each other for our freedom.”

  “You wouldn’t have to fight if you succumbed to the system.”

  “So either have no freedom or be a fighter, I think the choice is obvious.”

  “It’s not a lack of freedom, it’s more freedom than you would have if we were in complete control. Your kind would be enslaved and you would be reduced to slaves who were used for only blood and sex. Is that the kind of lack of freedom you’d choose?”

  “Of course not, it’s no choice.”

  “But it is now and you refuse to see it as such. The council was kind to you, they didn’t have to give you this sort of freedom. They chose to work with your militia and still allow you to live your lives in the blissful ignorance mortality gives you.”

  “So that’s it then. Being here, with you, is a supposed gift?”

  “You could enjoy it.” He suggestively lowered his body more on top of her, snapping her focus back on just how closely-pressed their bodies were before she quickly reached out and pushed back against him.

  “Not this I won’t.” She pushed until he gave in and leaned back up putting some blessed space between them.

  “Any more questions then?”

  “Can you get off me?”

  “Can you promise not to try and stake me again? I’d prefer to trust you. But you wouldn’t like the option where I don’t.”

  “What’s that option?”

  “I lock you up in the dungeon.”

  “You have a dungeon?”

  “I have a basement, it’s the same thing isn’t it?”

  “Does your basement have chains and a cell?”

  “Just chains.” He grinned devilishly before moving off her quickly. Quill took a deep breath and sat up, touching her heart where it pounded so loudly against her chest.

  “Will I see you for dinner?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  He grinned in a way to suggest that no she did not but didn’t say anything as she sat up completely and pulled herself off the bed. His eyes swept over the bits of exposed skin as she did, a pool of longing forming low in his belly. Patience might’ve been something that came with time, but it didn’t come easily when he wanted something as bad as he wanted her.

  To his complete disappointment, she pulled her robe tight around her and walked to the door, not saying anything else to him as she left. He picked up the pieces of the stake, examining what she’d made it from and called in a guard to tell them to dismantle her bed.

  CHAPTER 9

  Dinner came sooner than Quill wished, but her stomach wouldn’t allow her to skip it as it ached with hunger. She’d spent the afternoon going over everything he had told her and then reliving the curious mix of feelings he encouraged in her when they were close enough to touch. She’d managed to finally admit to herself there was something wanton and delicious in the idea of a forbidden affair with him.

  But then again she was most likely the one labelling it wrong. He had probably trapped her here with the intention of eventually getting her to have sex with him. But she didn’t want to play into his hand; however much she had fantasized about it.

  Nero was already seated at the great table when she came down. He was preoccupied with paperwork this time but didn’t miss muttering a half-hearted hello to her.

  She didn’t say anything as the servant brought a new plate, laden with dinner and she dug in, losing herself in the mindless action of chewing and swallowing again and again. When she looked up, he was staring at her with intrigue and she felt herself go hot in self-consciousness.

  “How was your afternoon?”

  It was strange how normal he treated conversation as though he had forgotten she was feeling trapped and cuckolded here.

  “It was fine,” she said tersely, focusing again on her food and trying her best to ignore him and her disloyal feelings.

  “I thought about our earlier encounter and realized I have some questions for you.” Against her better judgment, she looked up at him, their eyes meeting for a moment.

  “No guarantee I’ll answer them but feel free to ask.” She waved her knife at him to carry on.

  He smiled like he was pleased with this answer and sipped his wine thoughtfully before looking back up at her, “why did you join The Desecrated?”

  “Next question.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend? Is that why you were upset I killed the other Desecrated and refuse to have sex with me?”

  “No. I refuse to have sex with you because you’re dead.”

  “My organs are still intact and functional.”

  “Lovely for you.” She stuffed a larger than average mouthful in so she didn’t have to say anything else for fear of admitting she’d imagined the intact and functional organ more times than she cared to admit this afternoon.

  “What sort of hobbies would you like to take up? I can arrange that the necessary tools will be found for you.”

  “I like killing things, I’d love to add killing dead things to my trophy list.” She levelled her gaze with him, but the seriousness of her statement was seemingly lost on him as he grinned in amusement once more.

  “I’ll get an assortment of things that you can try then,” he said with a nod before looking at her carefully, “would you consider becoming a vampire?”

  Her head jerked from how fast it snapped up to look at him. Concerned not only with the casual suggestion but the serious tone in which it was said.

  “Absolutely not. What would even make you think that I’d want to be like you?”

  “You’d be powerful, a force to be reckoned with… You’d be mistress of this place.”

  “Mistress? As in your mistress?” She stood up immediately, her appetite put off as she shoved the chair back so she could leave, “in your dreams. I would sooner die than become an undead monster like you.” She turned and left the dining room. She hated that every time they were together it ended with her leaving, an insecure show of her inability to control her emotions around him. But he riled her up in a way that should’ve been impossible.

  Instead of going to her bedroom where she would only feel like a caged animal she crossed the hallway and deliberately walked through the sitting room toward the door he had explicitly told her to never open. She didn’t care about his rules, if he wanted her to be his mistress then she needed to know everything
…

  She was careful as she pushed the door open and peeked through. She didn’t know what to expect. Her imagination told her it would be a room soaked in blood. That there would be discarded bodies of humans strewn everywhere like dirty laundry, but the truth was it opened into a lounge, decorated with chaises and cushions. The walls were dark in colour and hanging on the far side was a selection of leather belts and straps, whips and other toys.

  There was a faint metallic tinge to the air but nothing overwhelming to the senses. On the other side of the room, there was a door leading out of the sex chamber. Quill passed a bed made of cushions to get to it, pushing it open to see with surprise it led to stairs.

  A knot formed in the bottom of her stomach and something told her not to go down. Creeping past the door she closed it carefully behind her and slipped down the stairs in the darkness. She kept one hand held out to the side, feeling her way along the wall as she descended into the basement. Dungeon - her memory corrected. That’s exactly what it was, she realized as she got to the bottom.

  It was dank and darker than the room upstairs and faint moonlight illuminated the walls where, as promised, chains hung in a manner that suggested they were deliberately used to splay a human body on the wall. Then she saw the blood streaks running down the cement wall. Not enough to suggest death but enough to suggest pain.

  In the dim she could hear the echo of voices and she followed them, bringing her into a main room where cells were laid out. Her stomach turned with fear and hatred, but something spurred her forward, searching the tear stained faces in the darkness for something familiar. She hardly noticed her racing thoughts that prayed Rose’s wouldn’t appear. In the end, she breathed a sigh of relief even if she wasn’t feeling very relieved. These people were still prisoners; she had to help them in some way.

  She searched around, looking at the walls for any sort of key or item that would help her open the cages. Beyond the cell room, she found an armoury. But what she found there was shocking. Amongst the collection of modern weapons, there was also a pristine collection of antique medieval torture devices. She reached out and touched them in curiosity before jerking her hand away remembering what he said about scent and vampires.