by Sky Winters
Abigail hardly knew what to say. She was suddenly tired and wanted to sleep. The whole thing was beyond her comprehension.
“Victor, I can hardly believe what you are saying. Let us go back to the castle. We can discuss this again. I am tired and cannot think properly.”
Bowing his head, he agreed. It was a lot to take in, and his sire could not hurt her now. Perhaps they could find a way, together.
The carriage was waiting for them and soon they arrived back inside the castle walls. On the journey home, they sat close in a comfortable silence, despite the words that had been said. Abigail could still feel the touch of his lips against her own and the thought comforted her, whatever the future might bring.
Arriving back at the castle, Victor took her by the arm and escorted her up to her chamber. Although they had not spoken, she felt close to him, her body tight next to his. Despite everything, her heart felt light.
Pausing at her door, the two stood close. Abigail did not want him to leave and Victor did not want to go. His arms slipped easily around her slender waist and he held her to him. His emotions were aroused and he could not let her go, yet he dared not stay and pulled himself free of her arms.
“Abigail, I must leave you, for your own sake. The moon is full, and I am not myself tonight.”
It was too late. He had unleashed her emotions, and she could not hold back.
“I am your wife, Victor. Whatever is your fate is mine also. I am not afraid.”
“But I release you; we are not yet truly joined and you are free to leave me as pure as you arrived here; a maiden free to marry of her own choice.”
“But you are my choice, Victor, and I wish you to be my husband in all ways.”
His lips were soon again on her own. He could not leave her, not now. Opening the chamber door, they fell into the room as one body, arms and mouths entwined.
Picking her up, Victor lay Abigail gently on the bed with her loosened hair spilling out wildly against the eiderdown. The curtains had not been closed and the moon, full and round, shone directly through the window, casting a pale light upon her face.
“You are so beautiful, my love. I have fought against my feelings for you for so long. I have wanted you since I first set eyes on you in the village. When I saw you walking down the aisle, I had forgotten how beautiful you truly are and I lost my heart to you that minute. I have tried to hide my feelings from you, deny them to myself. It is a selfish act that I commit, but if you truly love me, then perhaps we can find a way?”
His hands moved across the soft silk of her gown, feeling the hollows and contours of her body. Reaching the softness of her breasts, he let out a deep sigh before joining her on the bed and buried his head against her chest, kissing the delicate fleshy orbs. Seeking out the fastenings of her gown, he started to undress her, loosening the material and pulling it down over her breasts and flat stomach until it fell in a heap onto the floor. She did not wear a corset; her firm young body did not need one and she remained in her silk stockings and panties. The Duke stood up and gazed at her body, his eyes ablaze with passion as he started to peel off her stockings one by one. His fingers soon sought the soft flesh between her thighs and soon she lay entirely naked. The touch of his fingers was like ice upon a burning flame, and she shivered with desire. His hand moved toward her soft mound, his long thin fingers probing inside the moist flesh. She desired him more than anything in the world and opened her legs willingly to him. Never had she been touched so intimately, and she gasped as a finger entered her, cool and firm against her soft and fleshy walls.
Victor groaned. He could not hold his passion any longer. He must have his beautiful bride. Standing, he started to unbutton his breeches. She had never seen a naked man before but watched, transfixed, as he disrobed. His cock was erect and straining to be free of its constraints. Abigail gasped at his size but ached to have him within her. Mounting the bed, Victor’s face was a mask of pure passion, his eyes two dark slits upon his pale face.
“Do not be afraid of me, Abigail, whatever happens.”
His naked body was upon hers and she pushed herself into him, feeling the hard tip of his erection stabbing against her. Abigail cried out as a short stab of pain rippled through her as he slowly entered. He could not stop and, kissing her gently, he pushed harder, driving his shaft deeper and deeper inside of her. She could feel his heart beating as his passion soared and his cock thrust into her again and again. His soft moans became louder as he could not stop. His face looked even paler in the moonlight. A change was coming over him, subtle at first and yet she noticed it. His eyes were red rimmed and blood shot, his lips blood red as if his very passion was coursing through them. A wave of ecstasy raced over him as he threw back his head and almost howled at the moon in his moment of climax, his face a twisted and tormented mask. When he looked at her again, there was no mistaking the change. His mouth was open and coming toward her, his teeth large and pointed; the vampire within had been released.
Chapter Six
Abigail awoke to a scratching at her door. She wondered if she had been dreaming, but her body was still warm and aching from their lovemaking. The bed was empty. Victor had gone, yet she could still smell his musky fragrance lingering in the air. Had she really imagined that Victor was a vampire? She had been tired and full of emotion. Maybe the moonlight had been playing tricks on her? Her last memory was of his eyes burning into her own; she had not been afraid. His gaze had been hypnotic and she must have fallen asleep in his arms. All the silly talk about vampires had caused her mind to work overtime.
The scratching sound came once again at the door. She wondered if it could be mice or even rats and got out of bed to investigate. Victor had locked the door from the outside but had slid the key back under the door for her to open. She smiled; he was such a worrier.
The door opened easily yet all was quiet. Looking down, she noticed scratch marks on the wooden door frame and wondered at their maker. As she was about to close the door, a dark shadow flitted across the corridor and down the stone staircase. Fetching her candle and robe, she hastened quickly to follow; it hadn’t been the shadow of a mouse or a rat, but that of a man. It must have been Victor.
Hurrying down the steps, she noticed that the air was cooler than usual. The front door was slightly ajar; someone must have wandered outside.
The night was still clear, though the sky had a purple tinge, a sure sign that the dawn wasn’t too far away. A slight wind played upon her hair and blew out the candle flame and she thought she heard her name whispered in the breeze.
“Victor?”
She listened carefully, yet all was silent.
A dark shadow moved in the distance toward the old chapel and she hurried across the grass; eager to see her husband.
The chapel was in darkness as she approached. There was an eerie silence, yet she could tell that someone was there; the stale air had been disturbed.
“Victor?” Her voice echoed against the stone walls as she walked toward the altar. A cloaked figure was sitting in one of the front pews with its backed turned toward her.
“Victor!”
Her heart leaped at finding her husband, and she stepped forward to embrace him. A thin and bony arm reached out for her, the fingers almost skeletal.
“It is about time we met, my dear. I wondered what had kept you. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the late Duke von Reichenstein.”
The hood fell away from the bony figure and Abigail gasped at the face before her. It was so grotesque that she could hardly look upon it. The flesh had all but withered from the bones as if upon a dead man. The eyes were yellow and rheumy and almost blind, yet his grip was firm upon her and would not let go.
“Your beloved husband tried to keep me from you. I have seen you many times, my dear, and often thought about your soft flesh. So Victor has joined with you, it is no matter. I watched you both through the open window. It will be his last night with you, or at least with you as you are. Soon yo
u will be mine and within my power, not his. The vampire is weak within him, but I think you are a tender creature and that I can bend your will much more easily.”
As he spoke, his ugly mouth opened to reveal sharp and pointed fangs. Moving her toward the altar, he gazed deeply into her eyes, his hypnotic stare sending her deeper and deeper into a trance.
“Stop.” A deep voice rang out from the chapel doorway and the spell was broken. Victor rushed down the aisle toward the old Duke.
“It is too late, my dear Victor. Just think what a charming vampire she will make. We will both be able to take our turns with her now.”
As he moved his head toward her slim neck, a light started to appear from the east. The sun was rising and shining through the great stained glass window and onto the altar.
The old Duke screamed as a beam of light shone across his body. His grip lessened on Abigail, and she fell to the floor at his feet. The old man could not move, pinned to the altar as a stream of light entered the chapel. His cries were deafening as his body began to slowly smoke until a flame leapt out of his cloaked figure and soon he was consumed by fire.
The smell of burning flesh and bone filled the enclosed space and Abigail almost choked on the stench. Victor’s strong arms lifted her up and away, to the back of the chapel where the light had not yet filtered.
“I have no time, my love. I have to return into darkness before it is fully light. I must lie in the old Duke’s crypt until nightfall.”
Victor stopped as he looked upon the old sarcophagus. “The stones have been removed. I set a spell upon the old Duke, sealing him into his tomb. I found the ancient magic in an old book in my library. He could not rise whilst the stones were in place.”
Abigail’s eyes widened in fear. “I took the stones, Victor; I thought they were pretty and took them away. I had no idea of their significance. I am afraid this is all my fault.”
Holding Abigail within his arms, he gently kissed the top of her head.
“Do not worry. You were not to know, how could you? Perhaps things are better this way. The old Duke can bother us no longer. Now, I must leave you, my love, until tonight. I do not know what our future together will bring, but we can discuss that tonight. If you still want to stay after all that has happened.”
Abigail replied with a kiss; there was no need for words. Whatever the future might bring, they would face it together.
The End
About The Author
Sky Winters is drawn to writing paranormal fairy tales with bad-ass shapeshifters. She likes her heroes and heroines to be the unexpected ones, and their passion to be steamy! She writes these sizzl'n and surreal tales for you, late at night, when the wolves are howling from her Northwestern home.
If surreal romance with shapeshifters is your thing, you best sign up for Paranormal Romance Publishers email list, and grab a copy of “Wolf Babies” for FREE
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[T1]This has already been said a few times