Page 16 of Cursed Lifeline

It's mine.

Six

Felix

SONG: CRAVIN’ | STILETO & KENDYLE PAIGE

Stalkingthrough the forest before dawn, the endless chirping of crickets grates on my last damned nerve. Frogs croaking, owls hooting, and the occasional scurrying of animals fleeing through the night cause my cool, calm, and normally collected demeanor to almost snap.

I warned Esme to stay away, but the more the night wears on, it's becoming increasingly apparent I might not be able to take my own damn advice.

The distant sound of a coyote howling in the early morning twilight has me growling in annoyance, and silently wishing I could mimic the high-pitched scream if it would offer my restless thoughts any kind of solace.

Coming to a stream, I pause and lean forward.

Looking over the water's edge, I see - nothing.

A snide chuckle leaves my lips.

Exactly.

Nothing.

Because I'm the undead.

A beast.

A demon.

A phantom blood-sucking fiend that prowls the nights in search of victims that will never survive.

I don't have a soul—not since I underwent the change at seventeen. So why does Esme make me feel more alive than I ever have before?

Her vitality is alluring.

She tempts me towards the impossible.

A union that both scares and thrills me.

One that canneverbe.

Misting to the opposite side of the creek, I stride off in search of something to quench my thirst before I charge back to the Martin estate and take what Esme would be smart to never give me.

Her virginity.

Her pure soul.

Her life in a daring attempt to breathe reason back into mine.

My earlier encounter with Esme at the ball given in her honor left me hungry for another glimpse, another insatiable high I've quickly realized I've only experienced when I am near her. So I went to her room after everyone had left the party and watched her writhe in a pleasurable dream. Her body, illuminated by sparkling iridescent moonlight, twisted carnally in white satin sheets on her inviting chaste throne.

The erotic show was almost my undoing.

Maybe it was wrong to encroach upon her private thoughts as she was suspended somewhere heavenly between sleep and awake, but when she deliciously moaned my name in the darkness that played erotically with the glimmering slants of light from the stars above, it became clear a man only has so much restraint.

The enjoyment she was receiving from her provocative thoughts was too tempting not to play with.

Standing at the foot of her bed, I drowned in her dream, her unconscious desires as they tangled with every way I suddenly felt the same need to touch her, taste her, claim her and make her mine.

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