White Roses, Black Doves

A hunger through time-9

The air in the ballroom was thick with the scent of lilies, Cornelius thought and the vapid chatter of the ton, a symphony of mediocrity that grated on his nerves. He had played his part tonight, performing the role of the charming associate to perfection, but the mask was beginning to chafe. He had to force himself to stay away for as long as he did because there was something alluring about Alice that he knew would make him crumble and fold. He knew if he was to stay in her presence a moment longer everything he was working towards would unravel. He thought a year was a good amount of time but alas only made him think of her more maddenly. She had a sickeningly sweet lure to her that made him want to worship the ground she walked on, and he couldn’t have that. He had to stay focused and in task. He had already spoken to Alice’s father in the quiet of the study; the agreement was settled, the ink metaphorically dry. The only variable remaining was the girl herself—and the thorn in his side that was her older sister.

He caught Lucy slipping away toward the terrace, her expression pinched with that familiar, haughty disdain. Cornelius moved with the silent, predatory efficiency of a man who rarely failed to claim what he wanted.

He intercepted her in the shadows of the dimly lit gallery, stepping out from behind a heavy velvet drapery. Lucy gasped, spinning around, her eyes wide with indignation.

"You," she hissed, her hand clutching her pearls. "I should have known you would be lurking in the dark."

Cornelius didn't smile. He stepped into her space, his height imposing, his presence blocking her retreat. "We are done with the pleasantries. I have been watching you watch me all evening. You look at me as if I am a stain on your father’s floorboards. Tell me, what is your problem? Is it my business, my background, or is it simply that you cannot stand to see Alice belongs to someone who actually sees her?"

Lucy’s jaw tightened, but she didn't look away, though her composure was fraying. "You are a predator, Thorne. You talk of business, but you treat human lives like currency. You’ll ruin her."

"I am the only one who truly understands her," Cornelius countered, his voice dropping into a dangerous, silken register. He leaned in closer, invading her space until she was pressed firmly against the cold stone wall of the gallery. "You think your protection is righteous, but it’s just jealousy. You hate that I don't look at you the way I look at her. You hate that you’ve never felt that kind of hunger from anyone."

Lucy let out a sharp, breathless laugh, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of something far less composed—a volatile, dark spark of curiosity. "You are arrogant enough to think I would ever want your attention?"

"I know you don't want it," Cornelius murmured, his hand coming up to trace the line of her throat, his thumb pressing lightly against her pulse. "But I also know you can’t look away."

The shift was instantaneous. The air between them, once charged with icy loathing, suddenly crackled with a frantic, desperate heat. Lucy’s breathing hitched as Cornelius fingers drifted downward, tracing the lace of her bodice. The moral outrage in her eyes didn't vanish, but it darkened into something far more dangerous, something reckless.

She shouldn't have leaned into his touch—she knew it—but the illicit nature of the contact, the sheer audacity of him doing this just yards away from the celebration of her sister’s future, shattered her resolve.

"You are a monster," she breathed, her voice trembling, even as her hands fumbled for the lapels of his coat, pulling him down to her.

"And you," Cornelius replied, his voice a guttural whisper against her skin, "have been dying to see how deep the rot goes."

He caught her mouth in a searing, punishing kiss, his hand sliding behind her neck to hold her fast as they retreated further into the shadows. The irony was absolute: he had come to seek her out to silence her, but as the friction of their bodies ignited in the dark, the betrayal of Alice felt like the final, exquisite seal on the night’s proceedings. They were two jagged edges fitting together in the dark, lost in an act that was as much a war as it was an embrace.

“You loathe that she is the pretty sister. I can see the distain in your eyes, you mask it as protection but a snake can recognize a snake” Cornelius said as he dove back in for another dark and forbidden kiss. He was disgusted kissing her. This was the only outcome her could see that wild work, he knew Lucy was a ticking bomb ready to explode at any moment given the right ammunition to ignite. She was nothing compared to his Alice, but he was already to far gone he had to see this to the end.