Page 18 of These Eternal Bones

The Lords Day

Elric

Utsukushī.

Beautiful.

The word itself feels lacking as I drag lungfuls of her scent through my chest, lilac mixed with the sweetened jam she spreads over bread.

Her long hair falls down her back in a thick braid, tendrils of strands dusting her cheekbones.

She eyes the chocolate again, something I ensure she receives with every meal.

The sound she made the first time she ate it in the cottage was nearly my undoing.

I sent for a shipment of it immediately.

The glass domed walls reflect the colored crystal charms that have hung in this room for over a hundred years, splattering her in a prism of light.

She’d gasped seeing them for the first time as they reflected off the plants, the lights twinkling.

The thick vines that covered the outside of the room would soon wither from the cold.

She’d touched one, a sudden frown marring her face before she wiped it away.

In every agonizing cycle, I wait for something in moments like this, a sign, yet none comes.

Yesterday was a misstep, one that could’ve jeopardized precious time.

Yet I know she would have come back eventually; it is in her nature.

Worked into her very being to return to me. I am grateful my syringa is resilient.

“He is not dead.”

Her eyes meet mine, the relief there making me clench my fist under the table. “Truly?”

“He is a denizen of the forest. He simply comes back. Every time”

“And the others, do they come back too?”

She’d all but hidden behind me, making my chest swell with pleasure as she walked the halls past the volley of beings.

I truly am a wretched creature to relish in her fear, only for the way she gripped my vest. The way her heat pressed into my chilled flesh, sensation after so many years frozen. “No. Most of them are easy to kill.”

Her eyes widen as she takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “The fox, does he live here too?”

“No,” I growl, forcing a calming breath. She’s naturally curious. That’s normal. It has nothing to do with him. I do not calm. Not even remotely.

“Why not?”

Maddening woman.

“Because I cannot kill him, permanently, should the desire arise.” Because he’s the only one who can hurt me. Because he has always coveted things that do not belong to him. Because my days would become quite unproductive if I had to kill him every time we passed in the halls .

Her rosy lips form a tiny o, her eyes slamming back down to the table.

Irritation pricks my chest. I decide then that I will kill the fox again.

Slower this time. Perhaps I will seek out the spot I left him and wait in the forest to give him back.

What a lovely surprise that would be. The beast of the creature was right.

He’d known the perfect way to throw a wrench in my plans.

He wished to scare her away from me, to provoke me when I was at my most…

provokable, with the thing I desire most.

But here she sits.

“Do you do that often… kill?”

“Yes,” I answer honestly. Watching as she gnaws on her inner cheek, making me want to smooth my thumb over the dimple it creates there. “Does it upset you?”

Her green eyes turn toward me, weighing her answer before she speaks. “I suppose it would be quite silly to be upset with a predator for simply doing what is in its nature.”

I’m not sure what I had expected for her response, but it wasn’t that.

I school my features, hiding my surprise from her attentive eyes.

Always seeing so much, yet never enough.

I long to know what expression she would make if I slipped from my chair, ducking underneath the table to lap at her cunt.

Would she be able to finish her meal? “Indeed. I apologize, Molly, for yesterday. I was not feeling myself.”

“The veins on your skin, they get darker when you are–” she clears her throat. “When you hunger.”

“Among other things.” My cock presses against the zipper of my pants even now, with each movement and waft of her sweetened flowery scent, my fangs throb. Even sated, she could not be more correct. I hunger. Endlessly. But for no other soul than the one in this room.

“You-you cannot eat like me? ”

“I could, but it would serve no purpose. Without blood, I would succumb to my hunger, which is a very unflattering affair.”

She shudders, but with what syringa? Do you want to know how much it would hurt? How good it could feel when I–

“But drinking it brings you pain?”

I nod, placing my elbows on the table to lean closer.

Again, hiding my surprise at her question.

The Selkie has never been a tactful creature.

Perhaps in my madness, I had hoped she’d bear it all.

To take away this game we play, the agonizing chase, but then again, this is one of my favorite parts.

No two are the same, yet all are familiar.

“Do they all die? The people you feed from.”

I smirk. “ That is entirely up to me.”

“Humans, do you–” the words leave her like a whisper, and I’m hanging on every single one. “Do you feed from them often?”

I shake my head. “Rarely, as you noticed, while the humans of this town have no choice but to coexist with us, they are not too fond of the idea.”

She clears her throat, placing her napkin from her lap onto her plate. “My position, since I cannot read…I am unsure what skills I have that would be of use to you.”

I could think of plenty.

I can’t hide my pleasure as she avoids my eyes, my little human suddenly so terribly shy. It’s endearing how quickly she shows her claws, only to blush and tuck them away.

“I merely wish for you to keep me company.”

She lets out a shaky breath. “That is not a job.”

“It is if you receive coin for it.”

She casts me an empty glare, recovering quickly. “I am repaying a debt; I do not receive coin.” My mood lightens further now that she seems less angry and no longer concerned about the idiotic fox .

My smile widens as I stand from my chair, flashing over to hers to pull it out. I lean in closer so that her smell wraps around me, making my mouth water as my nose brushes her hair. “Very well, work for free.”

Her little gasp is a gift, one I am determined to receive again and again. “And what am I meant to do all day?” She rushes out, all but lurching from her chair.

“Whatever you want, as long as it is nearby.”

She fiddles with her dress, looking anywhere but at me. “And my hours?”

“Day and night.”

She huffs, her brows inching together. “I am meant to spend every waking moment by your side?”

“There are those who would be grateful for such an offer.” I retort.

“There are those with nothing better to do.” Her frown deepens, taking her eyes from me. Her attention is a luxurious thing, one I covet deeply. “My days off?”

“You require days off?”

“Of course.”

I don’t bother hiding my sigh. “Sunday?”

“The Lord's day…”

My back meets the glass wall of the sunroom, my hair falling into my face.

I had been in such a hurry this morning that I hadn’t bothered to tie it up.

Quite unlike me, but then again, I often find myself forgetting who I am at all, that is, until she is involved.

“I was not aware I had a day.” I deadpan.

The woman rolls her eyes so hard I fear she’ll faint. “Not you, God .”

“Syringa, you will have to be far more specific than that.” I purr, kicking off the wall to stalk toward her, allowing my fingertips to brush the fabric of her dress, pretending it is the warm, intoxicating flesh underneath.

“Say yes, Molly. There is much I could teach you. Many stories to tell. This place is no doubt more comfortable than the cottage.”

“As if I have a choice.”

“You always have a choice. Should you wish, you may banish me from your sight. You need only say the word and I will–”

“Wait in the shadows of the woods,” she interrupts, gazing over her shoulder at me.

I shrug. “If the weather is fair.”

Again, she surprises me as she bursts out laughing.

Big laughs, ones that come from deep inside her.

Again, for a moment, I can feel the ghostly fluttering of my heart.

She attempts to stifle her humor, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

“You are odd, Elric, but I imagine anyone as old as you would be.”

As she turns to face me, I wipe away my smile, feigning offense. “ Old ? Perhaps I don’t desire your company.”

“Ah, but then you would not get what you are owed,” she retorts, stepping closer to me. Closer than anyone else would dare, and yet she does it innately, like the cord that binds us has given this headstrong woman a tug.

“Fate has a way of forcing such matters.”

She tilts her head. “You believe in fate.”

I offer her my arm, this time pleased when she takes it as I lead her from the room. “I didn’t, not until around six hundred years ago.”

She doesn’t respond at first, her eyes widening, not in horror, but curiosity at the creatures who flood in to pick up her plates. “What happened then?”

Something worms into my gut, a familiar pang that never truly fades, only ebbs and flows like the tide. “A woman. ”

“ Oh .” I nearly pull us to a stop to study her face, to try to make sense of what I see in her expression. She has hardened. I don’t have time to interpret before she speaks again. “You fell in love.”

I nearly laugh, but I don’t want to spoil the moment with such a miserable, bitter sound. Not when she is so warm in my grasp, so close after so long. “Love is such a frivolous word, Molly. It cannot begin to encompass the way I was consumed .”

“But you are alone,” she offers, her voice gentle. It’s her who stops walking, her arm still wrapped in mine. Her warm fingertips pressing into my shirt.

“Fate can be both achingly beautiful and hellish, often in the same sweep of her hand.”

“She died?”

Those words set off a maelstrom of pain, memories as everlasting as I.

Even the beautiful ones, the ones I cling to are stained with blood, tears, and longing.

So much longing . I grip her tighter, my mind falling toward the upper floors, knowing what waits there.

It would be so easy, syringa. So terribly easy. “Come, I’ll show you my home.”

She swallows hard, her jaw setting as she nods.

I am trying to do this right, my love.