Évrard D'Aboville has been the lethal left hand of King Sabien Arceneaux for centuries. Using his deadly skills, he's indiscriminately killed and maimed at his master's behest. He had never once been disobedient. That is until he was asked to kill a...
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Author's Note: King Sabien has been recast as Thomas Doherty, specifically from The Invitation. Anyone who has seen this movie will immediately understand why. Thank you for your time and attention.
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Izmir Lefeuvre- The Witch
"It's Izmir, right?" He asked, masking the step he took to narrow the distance between us. His head cocked to the side and his eyes ran over me.
The little voice in the back of my head screamed that I was in danger. Perhaps more so than I'd ever been.
"You didn't answer my question. Who the fuck are you?" I had to give myself credit. My voice stayed steady and calm.
He was smirking. It felt like something he did often to hide his distaste or disgust. There was an air of superiority about him that got under my skin. That, plus the fact that this man seemed to purposefully refuse to answer my question.
"Do you fear me?" He took another step forward and I took one step back. My back pressed flush against the closet door.
"No." I was lying but something told me that I should under no circumstance show my fear to this man.
He chortled briefly. I felt it vibrate through his barrel chest. "Are you afraid because you know who I am? Or perhaps it is because you know what I am? I certainly know what you are." Then he closed the distance between us completely.
His long upper torso pressed against my chest. He leaned down sniffing deeply against my neck. The tip of his nose drew light circles over the skin at my neck as far back as my nape. His lips dusted over my skin as if he was tasting me.
My hands flew up to push against this sudden invasion of my personal space. But even with my newfound strength, I barely managed to budge him.
"You're different from last I saw you." He breathed in my ear. My nipples hardened reflexively and the same sweet ache I'd been fighting every time Évrard was around came raging back.
"Who are you..." I was breathless. My heart hadn't slowed one bit. My head was swimming in his scent, in his warmth, and in the overwhelming miasma that was his presence.
