The chilly
October wind swept her cape wrapped around her body, sending a chill down her
spine. Something is coming then her
stomach clinched. A figure appeared across the street and she pulled the cape
around her like a shield. Tall and dark, hidden in the shadows, he appeared to
be tracking her scent with his movements. Like a cat, he slunk through the
shadows, hunting her. Her heart pounded in her ears. She heard her name
whispered on the wind.
“Majesta…Majesta…” It kept
whispering her name. Each time the name sounded she quivered. A hand on her arm
brought her heart to her throat cutting off her scream. Fear paralyzed her when
she looked around finding emptiness. The corset squeezed her torso, making it
hard to breath. The cloak she wore clung to her drenched frame. Majesta's long
hip hugging skirts showed more of her full-figure than she really had intended.
Is this was how the women felt in the old days, like a drowned rats?
A hand touched
her shoulder and her heart nearly burst out of her chest. The man that had once been across the street
was gone now stood in front of her. Dreams were one thing; she could wake up
and it would be over. This was real life and he could kill her. Fingers moved
to her hair and she shivered from his cold caress. Fog moved into the city
winding around her. The wind whipped her raven locks around her face.
That stinging
pain brought her back to reality, she knew she needed to run, but still her
feet were riveted to the ground. In those first moments with him this close
Majesta knew that he would take something from her, and give something she
didn’t really want. It was just as they say in the bible. The devil has a
forked tongue and it will tempt you with honey. She never thought she would
give into the devil, but when he looks like this you are doomed from the start.
The man stood at least six foot two, with board shoulders and a slim waist.
Majesta could imagine his waist being more like a V that lead to dusty hair
and...Majesta shook her head to clear the image. His tall stature gave little
away about his age, although the clothing he was wearing hinted at another era.
Majesta was
dressed like a peasant girl but it was Halloween and she had been at a party
with friends. It was the part she had chosen to play. His trousers stopped at
mid-calf, the shirt was white and hugged his broad chest. The long sleeves had
billowing ends, which cupped his hands, like a lover. His shirt opened slightly
to show a small section of his chest. Brown curly hair peeked out, beckoning a
woman’s touch. The urge to touch this man was over powering and her hand
started to move toward him. With a jerk she pulled her hand back looking at
him, afraid of what it was he wanted.
“I think you know.” His
voice was like a summer breeze as it caressed her skin. Majesta wanted nothing
more than to listen to him speak. His Irish brogue brought seemed to sooth her
even as her alarm grew. All she could do was shake her head no at the man. She
really had no idea…Or did she? It was so confusing to be standing here, her
body seemingly unwilling to follow her brain’s command to flee. His hand on her
neck gave her a rush that was weird and a bit frightening. His cold hand warmed
as he touched her, and she wondered if he was stealing her soul right then. She
knew he wasn’t, he was just taking the warmth from her skin. The pleasure on
his face told her that he was not accustomed to having warmth in his body.
After a few moments she started to get her wits back and pulled away from the
man.
“What do you want?” Majesta
started with a brave front and knew that it was a lie. “I don’t know who you
are…or what you want from me.”
The smile that
appeared on his face sent fear racing through her full-figured body. It was bad
enough to stand there looking at this man and knowing that she wanted more than
just a kiss. Her body wanted him in other ways as well. Nothing she could
really do about that at this point, the bigger issue here was that she needed
to get away from him. She finally moved her feet and started to back away from
him. With a move she couldn’t see he was behind her, Majesta's body ran right
into his. It was like hitting a brick wall.
“Oh now lassie, you know
what it is I’m wanting.” Craven told her with a wicked smile on his face.
She shook her
head at the man then tried to move away from him again, but he wrapped his arms
around her. The next thing she knew they appeared in a windowless stone room.
The warmth from a fire surprised her as she felt her knees give out. She had
the sensation of falling without actually doing so. Her body went limp in his
arms. Crevan carried her to the large bed. Darkness hugged her on all sides and
she didn’t know if she wanted to be in this room alone with this man. Majesta
struggled to keep her eyes open to look around. She noticed that the room was
straight out of a knight’s tale movie. The walls were large stone, with no
space to let light in. A large fireplace was on one wall with a large mantel
hovering over the open pit. On the mantel sat a very old clock and pictures and
paintings from different eras. Black and white and then going into color; they
showed the same man over and over. This brought back the fear that this man was
not human. Majesta lay on the bed in her wet clothes shivering from the chill
in her bones. The man sat on the edge of the bed looking down at her, his green
eyes welcomed her and she felt like she was falling into a sea of green.
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