What if Elias had not left? Would he have taken her… fucked her? Or…forcedher with her leave? Taken her under the guise of false fear? Testing the boundaries of her consent?
Her breath hitched at the thought of the promise he had first made her.
If you prefer your surrender dressed up in the lie of being taken, I can give you that, too.
What would that feel like? To be hunted and taken by a vampire? Is that something shewanted?
Before her mind could wander further into her own dark imaginings, Henry cleared his throat. She jumped, her thoughts scattering like startled birds, and forced herself to meet his gaze once more, chastened and flushed.
Henry’s sharp gaze lingered on her a moment too long. He leaned forward slightly, his fingers drumming against the surface of the table. “Penny,” he began, his voice low and measured, “you seem… distracted this morning. Is something the matter?”
She pressed her lips together, trying to summon a calm she did not feel. “N-no, Henry,” she stammered, though her pulse betrayed her, hammering against her ribs with every stolen memory of Elias.
Henry’s brow furrowed, unconvinced. “You do not answer honestly. There is a weight upon you. You have grown quiet, hesitant… distant. I have always thought well of you, Penny, but women must not spend their days lost in thought, pondering things that cannot serve them. Do you understand?”
She shifted in her seat, a small sigh escaping her lips, though she masked it as best she could. “I… I am simply preoccupied with my fathers current policies. It is nothing more.”
Henry’s eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest crease forming between his brows. “You must understand,” he said, “that a young lady’s mind should not dwell too freely on… unsuitable thoughts. It is unbecoming, and a waste of your faculties. You enjoy your piano, and the garden. You should focus on that.”
Her cheeks burned hotter. She nodded quickly, forcing herself to sit straighter, yet every fiber of her being still ached for Elias’ touch. The memory of his lips, his hands, the hungerbarely restrained—it pulsed beneath her skin, impossible to ignore.
Henry’s voice softened, almost kind, though no less firm. “Concentration is required, Penny. Let your thoughts serve your purpose, serve me, not wander where they ought not. As your future husband, allow the thinking to be my duty, not yours. Else how will you have a clear mind to raise our children one day?”
She swallowed hard, knowing full well that her thoughts had already betrayed her—and that nothing Henry could say would reach the part of her mind still trembling from Elias’ kiss. She clenched her hands, the nails pressing into her palms, steadying herself. “I will take your warning to heart, Henry.”
Henry nodded, seemingly satisfied for the moment, but the faint line of his mouth betrayed that he would not forget, would not let this pass unchecked.
As he turned back to his papers, Penelope’s thoughts slipped, unbidden, to the dark warmth of Elias’ eyes and the memory of his lips. She pressed her palms together in her lap, fighting the rush of desire, the ache of longing, and the silent acknowledgment that nothing about her world—or her heart—would remain untouched after that kiss.
After Henry had bid her goodnight, Penelope allowed herself to find comfort in her music. She could lose herself in her piano, the way the music bent to her touch as if it mourned with her.
But as she played, she could not ignore the faint groan from her roof.
Penelope gave a soft laugh as she pressed on the final notes. “Do you ever sleep?” she asked.
A shadow shifted at the edge of the moonlight streaming through her window, and then he was there—Elias, perched on her sill like a cat.
“I see you’ve been busy,” he murmured, voice low.
Her fingers lingered on the keys, still vibrating with the last echo of her music. “You ought to sleep. Or at the very least, let the cats sleep. I do think they might wish for some respite from your music.”
“Perhaps,” he said, stepping lightly onto the floor. “Or perhaps I knew you needed someone who does not sleep… to keep you company.” His gaze swept over her, soft but penetrating. He stalked towards her causing her breath to catch in her throat. “Or mayhap… you wish to escape.”
“Escape?”
“For just one night,” he said, kneeling near her bench, letting the warmth of his presence brush against her before catching her chin in his hand and claiming her lips in a whisper of a kiss. “To leave the world outside this room. To leave the rules, the expectations, the weight of their eyes. To leave everything but this…” he kissed her again, this time deeper, more insistent, and her legs trembled as desire pooled low in her belly.
“If I ask, will you steal me away,” she breathed against his lips.
“Mhm,” he hummed, trailing kisses up her jaw until his fangs grazed her ear sending a shiver down her back that had her mouth open in a breathless whimper. “Only tonight, Lamb. I will only steal what you are willing to give.”
Before she could answer, Elias swept her up into his arms, her body fitting against his as if it had always belonged there. Her breath hitched, heart hammering against her ribs as he moved towards the open window. The moonlight caught the glint of his eyes, red and gleaming, and she felt a thrill of both fear and longing. Without a word, he leapt out the window, the cool night air rushing past them as they tumbled into darkness. The town below became a blur of shadow and silver, and for a heartbeat, Penelope felt weightless—suspended between terrorand the exquisite freedom of being taken from the world she knew.
And for that still moment with him, she did not fret over the possibility of being discovered. Even as she held him tight as they raced towards the forest, the only thing she could summon was excitement.
She was not just a future wife and mother, she was his. And he was hers. Even if they could not have that forever, they had it in that moment.
It took what felt like mere moments before they arrived at a small, quaint log cottage.
