The Wolves Belong Underground

Chapter 11

Zorath awoke before Maria, this room filled with the early morning grey light. He rolled over, Maria sleeping soundly next to him. He laid on his side as he watched her breath so slowly and deeply, her raven curls sprawled over the satin pillow. It had been a few years since he's been with a woman, but he didn't recall the presence of a woman being so warm and fair. Perhaps after the dark and crude week he had, her bright eyes and milky skin were sensitive to his heightened senses. This part of his job truly made him feel like he was high on drugs, and the downfall just as the same. Some parts of him die during those times. And yet some parts of him come alive, especially when the heat of their blood splashes on his skin.

As he got out of bed and began to get dressed, Sir Bonheur's screams of agony and terror rang in his ears. Yet the Frenchman's torment was in vain. Every tactic Zorath used on him didn't get a damn thing out of him, only a few lies just to end the torture. This only angered Zorath more. He only gave up when Bonheur was hanging onto his soul by a thread, and he let him go. Now he would have to write to Ludwig and tell him it was back to square one. He would have to leave again once he got the list of everyone at the party. The thought of leaving the house filled Zorath with dread and anxiety, a craving for a cigarette coming on.

Once he was dressed, he took out his cigarette case from the top of his desk and lit one, inhaling deeply the smoke as he gazed out the window to the foggy garden filled with dried out and lifeless plants and bushes. Ever since he returned from the war, he despised going outside of the manor. Just being out in crowded places, interacting with others, and being away from the comfort of his home made his chest tight with tension. Some days it wasn't so bad, it just gave him an uneasy feeling and desire to leave as soon as convenient. Others felt like he was going to die if he didn't return to the manor in only a few seconds. Regardless, he felt as if the war had taken away any dignity left of being called a man. He was a prisoner of war, and now he was a prisoner of his own home. He was unsure if he would ever enjoy being out and about in the world. If he would ever travel to different counties like he had dreamed of before. Now that just seems like a murky dream he had dreamt once or twice. All he could do was watch the world move on without him from the window.

He turned when he heard shifting in the bed. Maria sat up, squinting her tired eyes as she looked around.

"Morning," Zorath exhaled a puff of smoke "You sleep okay?"

"I love sleeping in your bed." she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep as she rubbed her hand on the sheets. "It's so comfortable."

A low and short chuckle came out of Zorath, turning back to the window "You should get up, the sun is about to come up."

"Okay," she nodded, seeming too exhausted to fight with him for a few more minutes of sleep. He watched from the corner of his eye as she rolled out of bed and picked up her clothes from the floor. Once she had her undergarments on, she clasped on her cream-colored corset on. He had to admit, he could stare at her wearing nothing but a corset for hours. Her shapely figure was something he couldn't help but drool over. He liked to think he wasn't the type of man to notice the shape of a woman, nor let it captivate him. Yet he could not deny how often his eyes lingered on her body and distracted his thoughts when he tried to work.

Zorath pinched his cigarette between his fingers and stepped over to her, brushing her long curls Infront of her. He took the laces and began assisting her with the laces on the back of the corset.

"The roles feel oddly revered here." He could hear the smirk in her voice as he tightened them.

"Well, I'm sure after the night you had, you could use the help." the corner of his lips twitched into a grin. It was only second before it rested into its usual frown. "I do hope you don't mind that I can be...aggressive in the bedroom. I do not want you to think I want to harm you."

"No, I do not think that. I am even surprised in myself that I enjoy it." she said as she gently raked her fingers through her hair "But if it was ever too much for me, would it bother you?"

"Not at all. It would only bother me if you did not tell me. Honesty is very important to me when it comes to this." he said as he pulled the laces, the corset bone pinching around her waist. "So please, if I am ever too much tell me. I will stop at your command."

"I did tell you to stop last night, and you did not." she glared at him over her shoulder, her gaze icy.

"Ah, well, sometimes I enjoy it when you tell me to stop..." he confessed with a sheepish smile "Did you really want me to stop then?"

Maria thought for a moment, looking away from him just as embarrassed as her own sinister desires. "... no. I just... I haven't much experience with men. It surprised me how forward you were with me."

"Right. Well, let's use a safe word. When I'm taking it too far, say... 'red' and I will immediately stop. Do you understand?" he asked sternly, taking her shoulders and turning her to face him.

Maria nodded "Red. I understand."

"Good girl." he purred, brushing her chin with his finger and thumb "Now, go get ready. I will see you downstairs at breakfast."

He adored the way her azure eyes lit up whenever he called her that. It was as if he had just told her he was the most beautiful girl in the world.

He opened his mouth to say just that. That he loved the roundness of her rosy cheeks, the way her lip pouted when she was mad at him, and how he'd never seen such a delicate beauty in such a fiery woman.

"Why are you standing there like a fish out of water?" Maria arched a brow at him. Zorath snapped his mouth shut, his cheeks burning hot.

"Go get dressed. I'm hungry." he said shortly, sticking his cigarette (now mostly ash at this point) in his mouth and hurried to his desk as if there was something that needed his attention there. Maria blinked a few times before shaking her head and got her uniform on, hurrying out of his room to start her day.