Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 381: The Leash and the Wolf

Lyria’s POV

I stared at him, my heart pounding so violently that I was certain he must have heard it.

"Why?" I asked, my voice scarcely above a whisper. "W-why are you b-begging me to u-use you?"

For a moment, Earl Hawthorne merely looked at me.

Then he smiled softly.

He stepped nearer.

I instinctively drew a breath.

He stopped only when there was scarcely any space between us. I could smell his cologne now, warm and subtle, carrying the scent of cedar and sandalwood with something else beneath it that I could not quite identify.

He lowered his voice.

"I am not a man of considerable cunning, Your Highness. I leave that particular talent to men such as Evander and Alistair."

There was a faint trace of humour in his words.

"Nor would I presume to place myself among the cleverest minds of our acquaintance. Lucian and Julian would have me thoroughly beaten in that regard."

His gaze remained upon mine.

"But when it comes to power, I do not believe I fall short."

I shook my head.

"That is n-not what I m-meant."

"I know."

He gave a quiet breath of laughter.

"But allow me to explain myself properly."

The Earl straightened slightly.

"I am a rather ordinary man, your highness."

He paused. "My virtues are hardly remarkable. I am a war hero. I care deeply for the people under my protection. I endeavour to be honest, though I should not insult your intelligence by claiming that I possess no secrets of my own."

His mouth curved faintly.

"Every man worth knowing possesses at least a few."

"What I have said may sound rather insignificant. But it is not insignificant to me."

He took another breath and then quite softly he said.

"Because I burn for you."

He lowered his gaze for a moment, as though admitting it aloud had cost him something.

"I have tried to make sense of it. Heaven knows I have tried."

A faint, humourless smile touched his mouth.

"I have reminded myself, repeatedly, that I am an Earl. That I am a gentleman, and that there are certain things a man of my station ought to possess—composure, restraint, good sense."

His eyes returned to mine.

"I possess all three rather admirably when you are not present."

"But whenever you are before me..." He stopped then shook his head.

"I forget myself."

"I find my eyes seeking you before I have even realised I am looking. If you enter a room, I know it. If you leave one, I notice the absence. And when you have been near me, I find myself remembering the smallest things long after you have gone."

He swallowed.

"The sound of your voice. The way you look at me when you are trying to understand something. Even the little furrow that appears between your brows when you are displeased."

His smile was faint, almost helpless.

"I remember all of it."

"When you are away from me, I tell myself that I ought to think of something else. I occupy myself. I train. I run. I attend to matters that ought to occupy my mind."

He gave a quiet laugh.

"And yet, somehow, you return to my thoughts. Even your scent remains with me after you have gone."

My throat suddenly felt dry.

"I cannot explain what it is about you that has done this to me. Perhaps I ought not even try. I only know that when you are near, I want to be nearer. When you speak, I want to hear more. When you look at me, I find myself wishing you would not look away."

He drew a slow breath.

"And when I think of leaving you..."

His voice faltered.

He looked away for a moment before meeting my eyes again.

"I find that I do not wish to. I cannot command this feeling, Your Highness. I have tried."

His fingers curled loosely at his side.

"But wanting you has become rather like breathing. I may tell myself I shall stop, yet my body seems to have no intention of obeying."

A small, rueful smile crossed his face.

"Perhaps that is why I am asking you to use me. Give this longing somewhere to go. Give me a purpose in it."

He held my gaze.

"Because I would rather place myself willingly in your hands than spend my days pretending I do not ache whenever I am denied your presence."

He paused.

"Use me."

The words were almost a plea now.

"Call upon me when you require strength. Send for me when you need protection. Give me something to do, something upon which I may spend all this restless devotion."

"Let me serve you at least. Use me, Your Highness."

His voice fell to a whisper.

"Please. Before wanting you becomes the only thing I know how to do."

I swallowed nervously.

"I d-do not understand what y-you need me for."

"I need you for nothing."

The answer came immediately.

"I do not require anything from you. I simply want you."

He glanced away for a moment before returning his attention to me.

"Remain as you are. Remain curious. Remain somewhat naive where the affairs of what I speak are concerned. I shall do the yearning for both of us."

"I shall only follow where you lead. Like the wolf I am, perhaps. Bound to your scent, if you will have me."

I did not know what to say to that.

He continued before I could find the words.

"I would swear my allegiance to you, if only you would allow me to be of use."

His gaze searched mine.

"Call for me, and I shall come. Ask something of me, and if it lies within my power to grant it, I shall do so."

"Please." He said. "Use me."

I stared at him.

I was confused.

And I would not lie to myself—I wanted to understand.

"L-like Duke Valenridge s-said," I began slowly, "I am a rather c-curious person."

Earl Hawthorne’s brows lifted slightly.

"And while I a-appreciate your offer, I must admit that I do not q-quite u-understand it."

A strained laugh escaped him.

"But I am w-willing to u-understand it with you." I looked directly into his eyes. "I w-want to know what this w-want, and n-need, and b-burn you s-speak of truly is."

He stared at me.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Then he let out a breathless laugh.

It sounded almost relieved.

Before I could ask what had amused him, he lowered his head and rested it gently upon my shoulder.

My heart immediately began racing again.

I could not understand what this man did to me.

Every time he came near, every time he spoke to me in that low voice, every time his eyes settled upon mine, something within me seemed to shift.

Then I felt something warm against my shoulder.

I stiffened.

His lips brushed my skin.

I felt his breath against me before his tongue traced a brief line along the tender place.

A soft gasp escaped me.

I should have been startled.

Perhaps I was.

Yet beneath the surprise was something else.

Something unfamiliar.

Something that sent a strange warmth through me.

His teeth gently grazed my skin and I tensed.

Then they pressed down.

Not enough to hurt.

Just enough for the sensation to make my breath catch.

My hand moved instinctively to the back of his neck.

I did not know whether I meant to pull him closer or push him away.

Perhaps even I did not know the difference.

For a moment, he remained there.

Then his teeth released my skin.

His lips lingered briefly before he drew back.

"I shall await the day you finally understand what I mean," he murmured.

His voice was so low that I almost missed the words.

"But for the present, I believe I shall be content with this."

He straightened and my hand slipped from his neck.

I suddenly became aware of how close we still were.

His fingers brushed my cheek gently.

Then his thumb traced the faint scar upon my face.

His eyes followed the movement.

"You are extremely beautiful, " he murmured.

My face grew hotter at those words.

I lowered my gaze, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

He smiled.

Then, with the restraint of a gentleman who had remembered himself at the last possible moment, he leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss against my cheek.

He lingered for scarcely a heartbeat before drawing away.

"I must take my leave." His expression held a trace of reluctance. "Lest I forget myself and do something quite ungentlemanly. But I must confess, I have enjoyed this time spent. And I am relieved to know that you are well."

I nodded.

I was still far too flustered to produce a sensible reply.

He turned away.

Only then did I notice the cloak that had been resting upon the chair at the reading table.

He took it, slipped it over his shoulders, and fastened it with ease. He drew the hood over his head, concealing much of his face.

For a moment, he stood there.

Then he offered me a slight bow.

"Until we meet again, Your Highness."

And with that, he slipped through the door.

The moment it closed behind him, all the strength seemed to drain from my legs.

I staggered backwards and fell upon the bed, burying my face in my hands.

My cheeks were burning.

My heart was still racing.

My shoulder still tingled where his teeth had touched me.

I stared at the closed door.

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