MASTER SEBASTIAN

Chapter 27

SEBASTIAN

_

I knew it was her the moment she walked into the library. The delicious scent of azaleas teased my nose, making my fangs and cock ache.

No matter how many nights I'd brought myself to release, a hollow ache still remained in place of satisfaction. I needed to feel her beneath me. Her red hair fanning all over my sheets as I thrusted into her, hard and slow.

But that fantasy would only ever be that, a fantasy. I wouldn't let it become anything else.

I turned to face her, my expression plain. I should've been prepared for the blast of arousal that met me. "Eleanor," I said with a slight bow.

She was dressed in one of Abberdin's sheer regalias, her breasts practically pouring out of the bodice.

She smiled back at me, unaware of the hunger she stirred in me. The warriors departed.

As soon as we were alone she walked up to me, taking out the book she'd hidden in the volume of her skirts. A sly excitement entered her eyes. "And you said I wouldn't learn it in a day."

Despite myself, I felt the corner of my lips tip. "I shouldn't have underestimated you then." She was knowledgeable and would be a formidable opponent. Perhaps, there was more to her I didn't know about.

She turned up her nose, the picture of indignant nobility. "You should never have thought of it to begin with," she admonished haughtily.

I couldn't keep the amusement from my tone. "In that case, forgive me, Your Highness."

She looked down at me from her nose. "You are forgiven." She dropped all airs of nobility, laughing to herself.

She was quite playful. And I found it didn't irritate me.

Soon the languages tutor walked in. As usual, an air of anxiety came over him on realizing he was in close proximity with a vampire.

If I tuned my hearing, sure enough I'd hear the annoying banging of his heart. It was almost as if he thought I'd sink my fangs into him any moment and drain him.

Only, I didn't have a fondness for centuries old blood. Or imbibing.

A term vampires used for flesh-drinking.

I occupied myself with a book on Abberdin's past kings. After rereading the same line a number of times, I gave up on the pretense of concentration. My gaze went to Eleanor.

Her rosy dress was flush against her skin, the guazy material leaving nothing to the imagination. At the thought of all the men who had seen her like this, my fangs throbbed fiercely, eyes bleeding to black.

My instincts warned of what this might mean.

That I was mating her. A little more attachment was all it would take for my mark to appear on her skin, marking her as my betrothed.

If she felt a similar longing for me, then she would become my bride.

In spite of myself, the thought had me hardening. A vision of her bearing my mark surfaced and I felt something fierce and primal rouse in me.

The feeling was quickly eclipsed by anger. At myself, at her for inspiring the emotion.

I thought of the favour she'd asked of me. That I invite her over to my cottage for a game. The idea of having her in my personal space, alone, had weariness stirring in my gut even as another feeling rose to the fore.

Her fingers played with the flimsy lacing on her upper sleeves, her lips moving as she reiterated a word from the Elder, her little brows knitting. She had the most delicate features, her lips being the ones I held an unhealthy obsession for.

As if feeling my gaze on them, she swiped a tongue over her bottom lip, sending a spiral of need through me. I turned away, frustration making my jaw tick. How could one female affect me so?

It hadn't been this way with Noona, the vampire female that had been intended for me since I was little. Last I heard of her, she was betrothed to another.

I had expected to feel emptiness, jealousy. I had felt none.

I tried to imagine Eleanor with someone else. Rage like nothing I'd known before simmered in the pit of my stomach.

It was a stupid reaction. And I didn't work with stupidity.

Eleanor would be married before month's end, and I'll return back to life as it was. An assassin.

Morning rolled into afternoon and soon her lessons were over.

She rose, telling him, "Thank you for such a wonderful lecture, Sir Gerald."

Amusement had a brow lifting. She lied.

Along with our inability to lie, we also possessed an ability to perceive it in others. But I didn't need my instincts to tell me she was lying.

Barely twenty minutes into her lecture, she was drumming her fingers on the table. Thirty minutes and her feet tapped a frantic rhythm on the marble tiles.

An hour later she'd asked for a stretch, which she sought to prolong to the annoyance of the Elder and to my reluctant amusement.

The female really had a limited attention span.

The man returned her smile. "It was a pleasure, Your Highness. See you tomorrow."

Once the door closed behind him, Eleanor turned to me. "Ets nil terminę."

I rose a brow.

"It means I'm done," she breathed out.

"Ah. Then, you are going somewhere."

"I'd rather it wasn't this library."

I chuckled in spite of myself. I saw the book of games she held and an awkward pause resided over the air. I nodded at her, saying with finality, "First and last time I'm having you over at my cottage."

She exhaled, nodding. "Okay."

She looked around for a bit. "So when do we leave?"

"Now." I outstretched an arm. She regarded my open palm for a bit before putting her slender hands in mine. At the first contact, a jolt of desire shot through me. Biting down on the irritating impulse, I traced us to the mountains.

The wind blew her hair free of its confines. I luxuried in seeing the wild red locks tumble free, her flushed face as she took in the vast land before her. She used a palm to shield her eyes.

"Over there." She pointed. "I see your cottage." Watching the rocky path before her, she started off in the direction. I walked close behind her, an unsettling feeling snaking into my gut. Was having her this close a good idea?