Surrendered To The Lord Of Sin-Chapter 44: What is not meant to feel

Lucrezia found herself standing alone in a vast, familiar chamber. She recognized the stone walls, pale green, delicately sketched in patterns of gold, washed in amber light. The gigantic bed was big enough to fit four people, twice her size. The curtains hung from the towering headboard and drifted in the warm air. She recognized everything belonging to her in Dreadwyn.

However, she did not question how she had arrived there. Dreams rarely offered explanations, only sensations, and what she felt here didn’t feel like fantasy. It felt real, especially with the sentiment that came along.

She felt... calm. Whole. A rare happiness settled in her chest, light enough that it startled her.

Something about the atmosphere shifted, and she felt herself inhale sharply when someone appeared out of nowhere behind her. The familiar cologne of old wood spice, and cinnamon filled the air, suffocating her lungs the more she breathed his scent.

There was no sound of footsteps, nor the creak of a door, but the unmistakable presence at her back, close enough that warmth bled through the thin fabric of her gown. Before she could turn, firm arms circled her waist, drawing her against that familiar strength.

Her breath caught out of reflex, and she instinctively closed her eyes when she felt him press closer. Those fingers traced along her sides, lingering where her ribs curved inward, where her body reacted before her thoughts could catch up.

His touch was careful at first, almost reverent, as though committing her shape to memory, and she leaned into him before she realized she had done so. The world narrowed to the steady rise and fall of his breath behind her, the grounding weight of his presence, and the heavy pound of her heart.

Unlike before where fear anchored her reaction when he touched her, this was far from it. It carried a longing sharp enough to ache, and intoxicating enough to leave her mind blank.

As if that wasn’t enough, his hand brushed higher, skimming the line of her collarbone, and she shivered. The contact was light, almost teasing, yet it sent a tremor through her all the same. He did not rush, and that was what undid her most.

Lucrezia tilted her head back slightly as a smallest invitation, and felt his breath near her ear. Not a word was spoken, but the silence between them throbbed with unspoken familiarity, and strong desire.

His touch drifted again, slower this time, following the curve of her body until her pulse betrayed her. Each movement drew a soft, unguarded breath from her lips, as though her body remembered a language his touch taught. And gods... she... she didn’t want it to stop.

Her back ached when his hand slipped lower, brushing against the folds of her skirts. The layers of silk and linen shifted softly beneath his touch and her breath faltered. The closeness became unbearable, overwhelming in its familiarity and almost maddening.

His fingers lingered there, not yet crossing the final boundary, but close enough that her body betrayed her all the same.

A sharp inhale escaped her as awareness pooled low, and her core tightened with anticipation. It was the waiting that undid her, the certainty that he knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how close he stood to unraveling her, and exactly how to torture her.

Lucrezia’s knees weakened, and she leaned back into him, caught between restraint and surrender with every breath coming faster than the last.

When his fingers finally brushed her core, her body responded before her thoughts could intervene, and she gasped loudly as those eyes snapped open.

Lucrezia sat upright in bed, breathing unevenly as her heart pounded against her ribs. The brightness of her chamber greeted her, sunlight pooling faintly across the floor. She pressed a hand to her chest, steadying herself, grounding herself in the quiet reality of the room.

It had only been a dream.

Oh, gods... She shuddered, inhaling a shaky breath. How could she even dream of such... inappropriate thing?!

Her face paled further, and she grounded herself to notice her surroundings. This was real, and that was something that shouldn’t have happened.

That thought made her sigh in sheer relief and something else she refused to name. It troubled her more than she cared to admit; not the dream itself, but how real it had felt. How natural it was for her heart to remember what her mind tried so desperately to forget.

She could vividly remember the manner in which his touch had sent her breath skittering, and the places it hovered that had her heart racing. She could recall the way his breath... Lucrezia’s eyes widened at the turn her thoughts took, shaking them away.

It made her question what manner of dream it was. Miss Eldriselle gave her a tonic to help dull her sleep and avoid those nightmares from revisiting. But she didn’t mention the kind of dreams that were welcomed. Dreams that left behind a warmth she couldn’t explain, and a closeness that felt borrowed from another life that were harder to banish than nightmares.

Gathering her thoughts, Lucrezia drew in a slow, deliberate breath, willing her heartbeat to settle and folded her legs to her chest. Her gaze narrowed toward the window, and the morning greeted her in full blaze.

The sun hung high enough to spill warm, golden light across the room, catching dust motes that drifted lazily in the air. Outside, birds trilled in a familiar chorus weaving through the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

She didn’t realize how late she slept last night, and how tired she was after training little Elia over the past few weeks. Her body had insisted on rest, and she had obeyed, losing all sense of hours. The sunlight filled the room with a lazy warmth that made her eyelids heavy again, yet brought with it a quiet, steady reassurance that the day had long begun. With what transpired earlier, she doubted she’d be able to sleep this night. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

It seemed Miss Eldriselle had left without waking her, as she noticed another clean set of clothes neatly folded nearby. But this time, it was the same dress she had worn on her journey to Blackvale.

"You’re awake,"

A deep monotone voice sliced through the room’s quiet warmth, carrying a chilling weight of mystery that seemed to graze her skin and make her heart skip.

I-It couldn’t be...

Lucrezia turned slowly and saw him standing in the doorway. Her husband - tall, composed, with that same quiet authority she always recognized even in dreams - looked at her with an unreadable expression. Those hazel eyes held her gaze, unreadable and intense, making her heartbeat drum faster against her ribs. "M-M-Milord..." Lucrezia gasped in disbelief, her voice barely audible as her body stiffened.

He stood in the doorway, leaning casually with one leg crossed over the other with the faintest shadow of a predator in the morning light. His armor gleamed like dark obsidian, engraved with intricate whorls and filigree. The long, flowing cloak draped from his shoulders added to his imposing silhouette, and the faint glint of metal caught the sun, reflecting off polished pauldrons and gauntlets.

Those inscrutable hazel eyes were sharp and calculating, though utterly devoid of the slightest warmth. The nose mask, etched with swirling designs, hid the lower half of his face but only enhanced the sharp angles of his jaw and the unyielding line of his mouth. Even without moving, he looked absolutely flawless.

For three weeks, he had been absent—three weeks without a glimpse of his shadows, but his presence was a phantom haunting the edges of her memory. Lucrezia feared, dreaded his arrival, but now he was here, the room seemed to shrink under the weight of his gaze.

Without warning, her mind flickered back to that day in the forest. How he had appeared from the shadows, cutting through the chaos of the attack with lethal precision. She remembered the cold steel of his hands as he lifted her away from danger, the way his eyes had softened—just enough to assure her she was safe, before returning to that impenetrable, untouchable mask of his. Where she’d witnessed a monster without a soul reveal the tiniest most perceptible tinge of humanity.

But now... There was no softness. No trace of the faint emotion she had glimpsed that day. He was entirely himself again with the unyielding, perfect warrior, and the Devil she both feared and depended upon. In fact, he appeared worse than she’d ever witnessed. More detached, colder, and emotionless.

She noticed something different in his face. His skin was marked with new scars, etched along his forehead and the sides of his temples, each one drawn in the most cruelest way she’d ever imagined. For a fleeting moment, Lucrezia allowed herself to question what happened to him. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and yet, even amidst the horror of it, there was a genuine concern she couldn’t deny.

She swallowed hard, feeling the coldness of his gaze, and stood immediately. Her heart refused to calm as she subconsciously rearranged her dress properly before curtsying in acknowledgement.

Lucrezia kept her head bowed, unable to lift it as heavy silence settled between them. In the days since, she had rehearsed the words she meant to say—words of gratitude for saving her. If he hadn’t come, she didn’t dare imagine what might have happened. Yet now that he stood before her, the words caught in her throat, and her mind emptied of every carefully practiced thought.

Every movement, every small adjustment of his posture, spoke of control, power, and absolute certainty. No further words or actions ensued between them until finally, he spoke, breaking the stillness.

"Get dressed," he said simply in a command that made her heart skip. "We leave now,"

Lucrezia’s pulse raced as she nodded. She swallowed the words that caught in her throat. One way or the other, she didn’t deny expecting at least a question, some acknowledgment of her well-being, after three weeks of his absence, after everything he had done to protect her. But there was none but the order, and something that shouldn’t have been inside her sank in response.

What was she expecting? Sympathy from a creature like him? However, Lucrezia was reminded that it was that very creature that saved her life.

"Yes, Milord..." She whispered, bowing her head as she forced her trembling hands to remain still in front. Lucrezia watched his shadow disappear, and the sharp thud of his boot retreating.

It was only after he was truly gone that she breathed properly, gasping for air. But she inhaled the rich scent of old wood spice lingering in the room, causing her to recall her dream earlier.

Heat bloomed across her face in embarrassment, and she forced herself to move, heading towards the bathroom.