A Beautiful Curse

Chapter 4 - The Flame Ignited

A/N: I have found a dress that sort of resembles Anne's ballgown. The picture was a part its inspiration, Enjoy <3

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Draco's P.O.V

  His quick eyes surveyed the king's elegant gathering. He did not care for these sort of parties. All elegance, fops and coy flirtation. He would much rather be back on his lands in Israel. Those were the days.

One of his last night's there was etched vividly into his memory. He was much younger then. Two semi naked women lay on their sides either side of him on a large cushioned couch, one holding his golden goblet of wine, the other fed him exotic fruits from a great bowl sitting in front of her stomach. Another woman knelt behind him, massaging his shoulders. His men all enjoyed the fruits of the feast with beautiful semi-naked women feeding them by hand and drank rich wine until they were drunk. Music filled the air as the servants were situated at the end of the vast open courtyard, playing upbeat notes on their instruments. A voluminous fire burned high in the middle of the dusty courtyard and six dancing girls turned and twisted erotically with the music, their curves bouncing with each prance and step. King Richard had much rewarded them well for his crusade. He missed those days.

Due to his special abilities, he knew perfectly well that it was impossible for him to become intoxicated beyond control of his own mind and yet he was sure he was thoroughly drunk that night.

There was a moment, deep into the night, where many of the women were dancing round and round the fire, like sprites teasing the flame. The woman kneeling behind him was now over his left shoulder, running her oiled hands over his bare chest and arms, oiling and massaging the muscles.

But his attention was not on her but the flame, the great flame that seemed to burn into his soul. Fire had become a part of his soul, the very element that made him alive. The orange and golden flickers warmed the air and suddenly a wave of heat washed over him, something he had felt only once before. He had felt fire, how it felt when the warmth cloaked him, his refuge and his strength. But this fire he felt at that moment was different. Instead of anger and blood lust, he felt passion and desire ten-fold and something else... he couldn't make out what it was. But that warmth left him craving more.

He flicked the woman's hands away from his body and stood, walking down the steps to the flame. He walked amongst the dancing girls, one knocked into his side but he ignored her. His men watched in drunken awe as their commander reached out into the fire, engulfing his hand in the flame.

His second in command chuckled as the woman slicking exotic oils onto his chest stopped and gasped at the sight. "Fear not, little one," he had said cheerfully. "That is the Dragon of King Richard and fire does not hurt him." He pointed to the giant man reaching his hand out into the flame.

Draco shivered as the warmth engulfed him once more, only this time it rose inside of him the longer he stood there. He breathed deeply, reveling in the intense feelings enveloping him.

"Draco..."

He stopped and listened to the voice calling his name. It was soft and smooth, yet powerful and strong. He knew that voice.

"Draco... Can you not see me?"

Opening his eyes, he looked deep into the fire and a fair hand formed from the blaze and traveled up his arm. A soft touch that burned.

The form of a feminine face materialized, familiar, bright golden eyes gazing at him. Orange and golden strands of silken hair flowed from her head.

In a trance, he answered in a soft voice, "I see you."

Another hand appeared, reaching out to touch his face, and a wave of hot pleasure coursed through his already heated veins. "My beast," the voice sighed, like in a dream. "I'm here."

In the present, Lord Draco Mandrake blinked his eyes rapidly. They had become dry and hot. Those days were over. Yet they continually came back to plague him. Sometimes he would be talking to an ordinary woman and suddenly he would see her eyes, that of flame and beauty. Her words echoed in his mind. My beast... Beast... Or he would see her in the crackling flames of the fireplace in his home. Those eyes were everywhere. In his mind, in his heart, in his very soul. He couldn't escape her and yet he didn't want to; he didn't fight her image, her voice. He welcomed the feeling it gave, even if it was there for a few seconds.

Today he heard that voice for more than a few seconds, he saw her face without the flame, and he felt her touch, properly, and yet it still burned just the same. And she smelt of wildflowers and herbs. He held her in his arms and was reluctant to let go. He only hoped his body didn't betray him when she was near. The fire, the monster, he kept hidden was very uncontrollable when she was with him.

And to his surprise, he realized he had seen her before for but a moment. Many summers back... She was young, at her first presentation at court with her parents. She had looked stern, even in her younger years, and was ignored by many while her mother took over the attention of others.

Her voice... he could hear it again. But she wasn't speaking those familiar words. She was talking, having a conversation. But he could not see her.

Pushing himself out of his sluggish sitting position, he sat up first and then stood. With his tall stature, he looked over the heads of nobles and searched for her familiar face.

She stood before the king, smiling at him. A burn of envy erupted in his chest like a volcano. Why was she talking to him?

He stepped forward to investigate further, parting the crowd of gentry. And then stopped when the king turned and spoke to two women. The sprite and another comely female. And he was laughing. He watched as the king looked around and walked to Lord Rockwell. They spoke and the king indicated to the pair of ladies. Rockwell nodded interestedly and walked with the king to stand before the pair. He took the dark haired woman's hand and led her to the dance.

The king then rubbed his hands, spoke inaudibly and looked around. A feeling of dread swept through Draco as the king's eyes settled on him complacently.

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Anne's P.O.V

  Petunia bowed, smiling coyly at her chosen partner. He was a handsome man, a little older than 30 but that didn't mean he was too old. His smile was seductive, I could tell, and his blue eyes were whispering dangerous intent. He bent, kissing her gloved hand and then led her to the dance floor, bowing his head graciously to her parents.

I could tell from a glance that he was a cad. Quite the perfect man for Petunia, I reckoned.

I straightened her spine and awaited the king's choice of partner for me. The king was taking his damn good time about it too. I could see from the corner of my eye, my stepmother still kept her glare, warning of later chastising.

I could see the king's crowned head through the sea of noblemen, his head was bent. He was talking to someone. A dark mass of hair appeared. Tied back, the black glowed with healthy richness. As the face lifted, a stern brow... vibrant green eyes... strong nose... beautiful lips... sturdy, bearded jaw... And he was looking at me.

Suddenly, I forgot how to breathe.