Crimson Lace

Chapter 7

ALEC
CHAPTER SEVEN

Elle rises, slowly from where she sits. I watch her every move. She approaches like a predatory cat that's getting ready to pounce. As if I wasn't already nervous enough to be in the same room as her, but now she is getting closer. I can feel the electricity in the room rising, and chilling shivers run up my spine at the sensation. Hold it in.

I don't understand the game she is playing. Elle is trying to awaken something in me. A beast that she thinks is dormant within, but little does she know that this beast hasn't slept a wink since he left her side.

"How much of a distraction am I to you, Prinsé?" The singsong drawl of each Northlan word that seeps from her mouth is like a new kind of drug. With every step that is closed between us, I can feel my body losing a little more control. Everything in me elevates. My heart beats faster than an engine, my blood pumps so loudly I am afraid it might burst through my ears, and my lightning . . . Oh, my sweet lightning. It itches through my veins, clawing at my arteries, begging to be set free. I have to bite my lip to keep from letting it go.

"Elle, what are you doing?" My voice is soft and controlled, an attempt to keep the power coursing through me concealed. She doesn't answer my question, instead she just stares, keeping her eyes locked on my tattoos. The glare almost makes me self conscious. For her I would pull down my sleeve, conceal them, cut each colored bar off if I have to. Anything for her to forget the pain of this world.

Her mark is branded, by a hot iron. A pain she probably doesn't remember. Serfs are only babies when they receive them. It's nothing but an ID tag to label them as property. It symbolizes being powerless, the opposite of the purpose that the marks on my and the other Noble's arms serve. While my forearm displays honor, Serfs' displays nothing but the scarred number on their wrists. E2456N21W05, I repeat her number in my head as if to remind myself of who she is.

I should be repulsed by the idea of her. I should want to back away, but instead I want her to draw me in. Pull me closer, I want to say.
Within a second, she is no more than a foot away. Elle is right there, close enough to touch. My hands shake from the electric currents coursing through me. I want to sink my teeth into something, dig my nails into my own flesh to make it stop.

My voice will give me away, but I have to stop this. Before we do something that we'll regret. "Elle, you shouldn't be this close to me right now. I could hurt you . . ."

"Shh." Her voice is low, and I watch as she pauses, taking in every sensation. Just being near her makes me feel alive. I had forgotten what that is like, but it is a stronger feeling now. Reaching down, Elle grabs my arm gently. The touch sends a slight shock through me, but I ignore it. I can't do much else other than watch. Afraid that if I move even a little I might electrocute her, scare her away, hurt her. She examines my tattoos within her soft grasp. Her thumb carressing over them. I have longed for her, missed her, the fact that her touch is real makes it almost painful.

"You have lost control." She whispers, barely audible over the beating of my own heart.

"What do you mean?" I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on her fingers, not daring to look at the face that makes my sky fall, my stars shoot, my thunder roar, my flowers bloom. I need to get a hold of myself, but I don't want her to think that I'm pulling away. I want to be nearer, feel more in control.

I rise to my feet, feeling every nerve electrify as I move. I don't think I miss her almost leaning in, but she refrains from doing so. Why? I'm not ready to give into the temptation either. She needs to choose. I won't move forward until she does, I owe her that and so much more. Even though the smell blooming from her is divine, like lilacs and sugar.