A few days have passed since I was attacked. Thanks to Nickolas, I am fully healed and free of scars. I climb out of bed and step into my bathroom for a shower, my mind swirling. Lily left the previous night to search for her parents and gather news about mine. My heart beats very second, fearing Eric might spot her meeting with her father and capture him. Fervent prayers escape me, begging that wouldn’t happen, that she will return safely with word on how my family fares.
These past few days, I haven’t crossed paths with Nickolas. I won’t say he’s deliberately avoiding me, nor I him, but our paths just haven’t crossed much. He’s been engrossed in fortifying the castle’s defenses and attending to court matters. Beatrice expressed her concern that he didn’t take adequate time to rest and heal properly, and I couldn’t help but share a similar worry. However, so far, he’s managed to defy our expectations by not experiencing any health complications despite his busy schedule.
I step out of the bathroom, clutching my towel tightly around my body, only to be startled by Nickolas’ unexpected presence. The towel slips from my grip, puddling at my feet and leaving me exposed before his intense gaze. Heat floods my cheeks as I hastily scoop it up, rewrapping it securely while his eyes remain unabashedly fixed on me. When I finally meet his stare, fully intending to glare at him for not averting his eyes and for catching me so off guard, the rebuke dies on my lips. His expression is thunderous, dark eyes swirling with an undisguised desire that immediately diminishes any lingering annoyance to mere embers.
My throat constricts as I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his heated gaze like a physical caress on my exposed skin. The towel wrapped around my body suddenly feels too thin, too inadequate to shield me from the intensity of his desire. His eyes linger hungrily on the curve of my shoulders and the length of my legs, igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume us both. Summoning every ounce of courage, I clear my throat, attempting to pull him from his trance before he set me aflame with those scorching eyes alone.
“Nickolas,” I call out softly, my voice emerging breathy and hollow.
“Amelia,” he replies, his voice husky, his eyes ablaze with lust as they finally meet mine, breaking free from their wandering gaze over my body.
I wet my lips nervously, watching his eyes gawk at them, his Adam’s apple bobbing in response. A sudden wave of heat washes over me, making me flush and causing me to gently fan myself in an attempt to cool down.
“Why are you here?” I rasp out, my voice barely above a whisper yet filled with an underlying current of anticipation.
“Why am I here?” He repeats my question as if he’s pondering it himself. I’m taken aback by the effect I seem to have on him, surprised that my presence could make him so confused. After all, Nickolas had seen me naked before, so I never thought my body held any allure for him. But the way he looks at me now tells a different story, and it’s almost unbelievable. But with this realization, my plan to get back at him feels much more achievable, knowing he’s attracted to me.
“Yes, Nickolas,” I breathe, closing the distance between us, my heart hammering with newfound confidence as I lean in close, feeling the electric tension crackling between us. “Why. Are. You. Here?” I whisper directly against his ear, the warmth of my breath mingling with his skin, enveloping him in a heady embrace.
Pulling back slightly, I watch in rapt fascination as his eyes flutter open, and the lustful gaze has metamorphosed into something rawer, more primal – a hunger so scorching and potent that it sends delicious shivers racing down my spine. In that heated moment, I have no doubts about the power my body holds over this man, and it unlocks something feral within me in return, a primal instinct that begs to be unleashed.
“I came to…” His words fade into the background as I saunter over to my closet, exaggerating the sway of my hips with each step. I can feel his gaze burning into me, his desire palpable in the air. My knees tremble with exhilaration, my smile widening at the thought of what’s to come. Oh, Nickolas, I haven’t even started.
“Would you like to join me for breakfast?” I call out from inside the walk-in closet, noting his hesitation to step inside with me.
“Sure,” he replies, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.
Quickly slipping into my outfit for the day-a simple yet alluring, low-cut, heart-shaped knee-length dress adorned with a delicate floral design-I emerge from the closet to join Nickolas. As I walk past him, I catch a fleeting glimpse of appreciation in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of my choice of attire.
I instruct him to meet me in the dining room in a few minutes while I make my way downstairs to inform Beatrice of our breakfast plans. Normally, I would join her in the kitchen for our morning meal, but today is different since I asked Nickolas to join me. I pause for a moment, pondering whether the castle even has a grand dining area. There’s an eating area for witches, but whether there’s a designated dining room remains a mystery to me. I make a mental note to ask Beatrice about it once I’ve relayed the news of our breakfast arrangement.
Stepping into the kitchen, I find Beatrice expertly flipping pancakes golden with a practiced flick of her wrist as they sizzle enticingly on the stovetop. Perfect. She couldn’t have prepared a more fitting breakfast for what I have planned for Nickolas.
“Morning, Beatrice,” I announce, making my way closer to where she stands. The rich, buttery scent of pancakes wafting through the air makes my mouth water.
“Morning, child. How are you doing today?” she inquires, her eyes scanning my face with a mixture of concern and warmth. I can’t help but smile at her, reflecting on how our relationship has evolved over time. Gone is the cranky woman who barely acknowledged my existence when we first met. Now, she treats me with kindness and care. I’m grateful that things have changed. Life here was hell enough, and it’s refreshing to have someone other than Eric treating me like a person.
“I’m good,” I reply, returning her smile and gently pulling her hand away from my forehead where she had been checking my temperature.
“And your wolf?” she asks, her concern extending to Marie.
“She’s fine and says hello,” I assure her, feeling a sense of gratitude for Beatrice’s genuine interest in my well-being.
“That’s good to hear. I’ll speak to the king about allowing you to take runs in wolf form. It will be good for you,” Beatrice suggests, her attention already shifting back to the stove as she continues cooking.
“That would be nice. And speaking of the king, he’ll be joining us for breakfast today,” I announce, watching for her reaction.
“What?” Beatrice’s surprise is evident as she abruptly turns around, a spoonful of pancake batter splattering everywhere, including onto my clothes and body.
“Beatrice!” I exclaim, trying to dodge the flying batter, some of it landing on my face.
“Why?” she asks, wide-eyed, clearly taken aback by the unexpected news.
“Because I asked him,” I reply, attempting to clean the batter off my cheeks and licking it off my fingers. Hmm, it tastes amazing.
“And he agreed?” Beatrice asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies my expression.
“Yes,” I reply evenly, holding her searching gaze. A crease forms between my brows as I wonder at her scrutinizing look. “What?”
“Nothing,” she responds, the corners of her mouth curving upwards in a placid smile as she turns back to the sizzling pancakes.
I’m not convinced. “Beatrice,” I press, recognizing the telltale sign of her holding something back.
“Nothing, child,” she insists, her voice light and airy as she hums a tune, busying herself with fetching another plate from the shelves, presumably for Nickolas. But the tension in the air tells me there’s more to her reaction than she’s letting on, and I can’t help but wonder what secrets she’s not telling me.
***
I settle at the long, ornate dining table in the room I didn’t even know existed until today. According to Beatrice, it’s reserved solely for Nickolas’s formal dinner meetings with other supernatural leaders. As I wait, sunlight streams through the tall windows, bathing the intimate dining room in a warm morning glow. The table is laid out with an elegant breakfast spread – steaming platters of golden pancakes, jewel-toned jars of syrup and preserves, and pitchers of fresh juice.
I exhale slowly, trying to steady the anxious flutter in my chest at the sound of Nickolas’s footsteps drawing nearer, each one echoing in the silence of the room. Beatrice excuses herself from joining us, leaving us alone to have breakfast. Nerves twist my stomach into knots, though I chide myself for the ridiculous unease. This is hardly the first time I’ve eaten before him. And yet… an electrifying sense of delicious anticipation threads through the anxiety. Because what I’ve meticulously planned for this particular breakfast could either inflame the simmering tension between us in the most intriguing way or risk making my life more complicated.
I steel myself with a steadying breath as Nickolas enters the dining room, his tall frame cutting an impossibly striking figure in head-to-toe black, as always. A fleeting thought passes through my mind to one day inquire about his seeming aversion to other colors.
“Pancakes,” he states plainly as he approaches the table, taking the seat across from mine. Beatrice had instructed me to sit at the head of the table – an arrangement I’d worried might provoke Nickolas’ ire. But she had assured me with an enigmatic look that this seat rightfully belonged to me, and he would take no issue with it. Though I don’t understand her meaning, true to her word, he makes no protest.
“One of humans’ and, I believe, wolves’ favorites,” he continues, giving his plate a cursory glance before those piercing green eyes flick up to meet my gaze. My breath hitches momentarily under the weight of that stare.
Clearing my throat, I gesture to the spread laid out before us. “Yes, shall we?”
“Yes,” he replies with a slight incline of his head, gesturing for me to take my seat first.
As I settle across from him, I exhale again, steadying my nerves. There’s no turning back now. With fervent prayers, I grasp my fork, praying my carefully constructed seduction will unfurl exactly as I envision.
“Mmm, oh my! This tastes amazing,” I draw out, allowing a low moan of pleasure to escape my lips as I savor the delectable flavors dancing on my taste buds. I can feel Nickolas’s eyes on me, his gaze lingering as I take another deliberate bite, relishing in the sensation of his scrutiny. Yes, the first step is accomplished.
I lift my eyes to meet his intense gaze as I drizzle syrup lavishly over my pancakes, pouring far more than strictly necessary. Cutting off a sticky bite, I bring it to my lips with exaggerated slowness, letting the excess syrup drip down my chin, staining my shirt, but I pay it no mind. Instead, I close my eyes and let out an appreciative moan, relishing in the explosion of flavors that dance across my taste buds.
Setting my fork down with deliberate grace, I slowly open my eyes, a mischievous twinkle dancing in their depths as I catch sight of Nickolas, his gaze hazy and fixated on me. I know it’s only a matter of time before I catch the scent of his arousal, but for now, I revel in the power I hold over him.
“Oh, heavens!” I gasp, feigning disbelief as I glance down at my intentionally stained cleavage. “How did that get there?”
Slowly, deliberately, I trace my index finger through the sugary mess, collecting the rich sweetness on my fingertip. Holding Nickolas’ heated stare, I bring that glistening digit to my mouth and slowly drag it between my parted lips with an appreciative hum of delight at the decadent taste.
Nickolas’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, his eyes momentarily flickering away from my mouth and down to his legs. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, undoing two buttons on his shirt.
“Is something wrong?” I ask innocently, a smile playing at the corners of my lips as I bask in the success of my seductive ploy.
“Nothing is wrong,” he quickly replies, his confusion evident as he meets my gaze. But then it hits me like a wave crashing over me-his arousal. A surge of satisfaction courses through me, a triumphant smile spreading across my lips. I’ve accomplished my goal, and the knowledge fills me with a sense of exhilaration.
I continue eating as if I hadn’t just left him with blue balls. Today, indeed, must be my lucky day, achieving such success not once but twice in one morning. With a satisfied grin, I relish in the feeling of knowing that I, too, could leave him unsatisfied and wanting more.