Page 6 of Cursed Lifeline

As the last barrier between us lowers, and she flutters away quickly, my brothers cross the threshold, and Pierre shudders, stepping back in fear. My mind stays tuned to where she's waltzed off to, but my eyes remain locked on the ambitious gentlemen who was relentlessly harassing her earlier. The one who is still hiding close by in the shadows.

In a moment of pure stupidity, he starts to follow her.

A need to covet takes over, and I growl, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

His eyes lift and find mine. I smell his fear, his panic, his horror as I lift my foot and take a fated step over the threshold. Cocking my head to the side, I study the terror in his eyes. The alarm in his stance. The fright that trembles through his doomed limbs.

Pierre rushes off as my brothers step past the man who had his greedy hands all over a woman who had no interest in his advances. Caging him in, my brothers create a barrier between us and the rest of the party. I take a bloodthirsty step forward, holding the foolish man's gaze with each calculated stride. The large, heavy doors behind me quickly close. Obeying my silent command, they lock and allow no escape.

We agreed upon no bloodshed, but surely, there are exceptions to every rule, especially when the honor of such a heavenly creature is at stake.

The man opens his mouth to speak, but soon realizes what and who we are, and the threat we pose. He raises his hands in surrender. In a form of protection.

A cold chuckle passes through my lips.

"Do you make a habit of pursuing women who don't belong to you," I mercilessly ask, closing in on my prey.

"Forgive me," the man stutters as he throws a concerned look over both shoulders at my brothers. "I didn't know the lady was spoken for."

The memory of her rushing off into another man's arms stings as I back the mumbling imbecile into a darkened corner. I didn't know she was, either. It's an unfortunate fact I unexpectedly find myself needing to change.

Taking a heated step forward, I grab him by his collar and violently pull him towards me. My mouth waters. My canines throb, elongating, anticipating the kill. But before they sink into his skin, he nervously mutters, "Lord Martin's daughter is beautiful, but..."

Lord Martin's daughter?

My eyes lift and catch the woman in question as she shuffles back into the foyer. She smiles as she clings to the other man's side, who gaily parades her through the entryway toward the ballroom. Though I can't see his face, he leans into her and whispers something in her ear.

I was debating letting the fool in my clutches off with a warning, but now, the pain in my chest from seeing her in another man's embrace consumes all reason.

"Alfred, her brother…" he stutters.

Brother?

My fierce gaze swings back his way as the fool continues to mumble, "Well you see, uh, he promised he'd get me a dance with her, and…"

My hungry gaze lifts once again and finds the pair in the crowd. Esme forgotten at his side, all I see is the back of Alfred's head as it swings from side to side, and he surveys the ballroom for an eager conquest. Perhaps this unfortunate mortal is telling the truth. My grip loosens slightly on his collar as the realization takes root. I shove the human away and put a good foot's distance between us as my stare lingers on a woman who has suddenly enchanted me into an addictive, unrelenting spell.

"Besides," the fool hisses under his breath, drawing my attention back his way. "There are other women here that will serve my needs better than a prim princess who has only recently come of age."

My angered gaze flutters to his pretentious face. He straightens his lapels, feigning confidence he doesn't feel half of, all while his lying eyes nervously shuffle about the foyer and never meet mine.

"What did you say?" I seethe.

"Good luck with Esmerelda," he stews. His loss obviously sits bitterly between us in the face of his impending death. "Between her and Alfred, you're guaranteed to have your hands full."

He starts to move away, but my brothers step closer and tightly cage him into the darkened, isolated corner. He releases a panicked gasp. When he attempts to bolt for freedom, I hold him in place with a sinister stare, an inescapable grip, and give him a few more seconds to take his last shuddering breaths.

"Serve?" I growl.

His alarmed eyes finally meet mine. Did he really think I'd let him talk that way about a goddess, a treasure, a thrilling soul that mysteriously makes me wish I never lost mine? My voice dangerously lowers. My hooded gaze, wild with fury, locks on his as I hiss, "No woman is a servant expected to only do as she's told."

“Law states...” the blubbering idiot stammers.

My brothers step closer, making it impossible for the idiot to escape. Not that I'd let him now.

"I'm the law," I growl. "By my hand, and my hand only, respect and obedience will be enforced."

Reaching out swiftly, I brace my right palm firmly on his shoulder and pull his neck angrily to the side with my left. Paralyzed, he doesn't put up a fight. I grant him one more pathetic breath before my teeth sink into their mark. His life quickly drains, filling my mouth with a sharp, devious flavor. My eyes stay locked on Esmerelda as I drink the first of many lives that will ever threaten her. Ever endanger her.

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