WARHAVEN

Twenty-Three

It took me about one hundred steps before I realized my cheeks were wet with tears. I didn't stop them though. Instead I picked off the petals one by one and wiped each tear. I left a trail that went on for quite a while.

I picked the petals till there were none left and realized I was at the base of the lake. A broken stem was all that was left. I ruined the pretty flower for my own needs, wiped my tears with it. And left them scattered about. Just like Simon had done to me.

I threw the stem into the body of water and watched as ripples erupted atop the surface. Then I waded in as well. I swam as best I could with the little practice I had. I stayed where I could touch the tips of my toes.

I submerged myself and let the silence take me. It was utter peace. I waded and floated and swam and splashed and it was pure pleasure.

I only decided it was best for me to get out once a chill breeze whipped my hair against my face. The sharp reality of everything literally smacked me in the face.

I sat on the grass as I watched the water and moonlight dance and combine. I wondered if that was what real sex was like. Two different forms coming together to create one beautiful thing.

I couldn't even imagine sex being anything but pure hell. Sure, I experienced lust. Sometimes tenfold. But I never had a desire to act on it. Not before the King.

Not before yesterday in the bathtub when I felt safe enough, alone with myself, or so I thought, to indulge. And of course with the help of my new hyper sexuality that came along with my fangs.

I looked down at the sea through wet material clinging to my feminine frame. I was so womanly at that moment. It was erotic.
I looked around of course, and decided to gingerly caress my breasts and nipples. They were especially sensitive under the wet material. I reveled in the friction as moisture pooled between my thighs.

I went to reach lower and looked around once more, but stopped as I realized what I saw.
The wall peeked through the thick trees. It was lit slightly by moonlight, but still hidden. I rose to my feet and headed toward it.

This could be my chance to get out. I realized I didn't even know where I would go. Shit, I didn't even know where the hell I was. But I was determined that I would escape. And this wall was the first major obstacle.

I just had to have enough strength and grit to make it over the wall. It couldn't be that hard. The stones looked big enough to fit my toes in between.

As I approached the wall, I ran my fingers along the ridges. Definitely enough space for toes. I readied myself and gripped with my fingertips and one foot.

I hoisted myself up and reached higher with my left hand. I kept going. I looked down and realized I was only about 6' off the ground.

I reached once more and lifted my right foot. I placed it on a smaller ledge and pulled.
My foot slipped and I came crashing down. My body and nightdress got torn and cut on the sharp rock as I fell.

I looked down and the ends of my dress had split and torn. Dirt covered the rips as if they were wounds bleeding.

I lifted myself and went to climb once more before I felt it.

Rage. Calm, simmering, cold rage. It wasn't mine though. It didn't belong to me. It was a part of me but not mine.

The hairs on my body stood at attention as I realized I wasn't alone. I could feel eyes on me like hands.

I turned slowly in the direction of the eyes. And I saw him. He was standing there in the trees but somehow illuminated by moonlight.

He looked devastatingly delicious. He looked unreal. He was shirtless and clad in only a loose pair of cotton pants. His feet were bare and dirty. Like he ran here. Like he tore up the grass.

In his two massive hands were white petals. He clutched them so tight I thought they'd explode. He was looking at them and he let them drop. They dropped in clumps, his hands were imprinted in them.

I met his eyes and he approached me. He stood directly in front of me, over me. My face at his chest. I looked up and met his eyes once more.

I could tell that we were both very aware of the fact that my breasts and hard nipples were not only visible, but one small movement and they would brush against his chest. I knew that friction would be the death of me.

I sucked in a breath at the sight of his dark red eyes. My lips parted, but no words came out. What was I supposed to say? He had caught me trying to escape.

He spoke for us, "You tried to leave me." I swear I saw slight pain in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes slightly and spoke, "I wasn't trying to leave you. I was trying to leave. I don't belong to you." I kept my voice solid as I spoke. The last thing I needed was for him to sense my fear. My nerves. To smell them.