His Lycan Princess | 18+

Bane

As we strolled through the sprawling mansion of Vilskansser, every step we took seemed to resonate with the whisper of centuries gone by. The man had taken the lead, walking just a few steps ahead of me, guiding me through the gloom. I followed him everywhere, both with my steps and with my gaze. The walls all around were lined with rusty torches, casting trembling halos of light against the dark. I couldn't help but notice the play of fire and shadow enhancing the alluring broadness of his proud shoulders, the muscular lines on his back seen through his shirt, and, well, the confident sway of his hips beneath those snug black leather pants.

For a brief, heated moment, our eyes met as we passed by a broken mirror, and I quickly averted my gaze, but not fast enough to hide the blush that tinged my cheeks. He saw me checking him out! Staring at his ass! It was as if he had caught me in the midst of a forbidden act, something embarrassing and dirty, like touching myself.

He smirked.

I scowled and, for once, I tried to focus on anything but on him.

The corridor ahead was a tapestry of gothic arches and towering wooden doors that stretched from floor to ceiling. Chandeliers hung in the air like pale ghosts, their once-glorious crystals now dust-covered and draped with cobwebs. Moss clung to the walls, and worn tapestries depicted long-forgotten tales of valor and romance.

I peered through cracked-open chamber doors, glimpsing at interiors frozen in time. Furniture shrouded in white sheets resembled colossal, icy mountains, untouched by human hands for centuries. Our footsteps echoed through the cavernous space, a haunting reminder of the mansion's solitude.

He led me through a pair of heavy wooden doors, their aged hinges groaning in protest. We entered a cavernous kitchen, a realm both eerie and inviting. The room bore the mark of neglect, with dust-draped countertops and abandoned cookware. Yet, it possessed an earthy, rustic charm that shone through the layers of grime. Herbs hung from hooks in the high ceiling, frying pans stacked haphazardly on crumbling shelves, and weathered bricks and worn beams that definitely added character to the space.

He held the door open for me, and a sly smile played on his lips as he gestured for me to enter. "After you, Selene."

I stepped into the room, my eyes wide, taking in the scene before me. He had set the table! A long, wooden structure with two chairs at its far ends. It was a bucolic masterpiece, decorated with care and attention to detail. The undeniable charm of the forest enveloped it, with roses, wildflowers, and fir cones artfully arranged alongside nuts and lit candles that cast a soft, flickering glow. A crystal carafe sparkled in the candlelight, promising the delights of what lay within.

He pulled out a chair for me with an exaggerated flourish, his eyes never leaving my face. My hesitation was palpable as I settled into my seat, still studying him as if he were a riddle I couldn't decipher.

At the far end of the table, he seated himself, his tall frame almost looming in the dim light. He leaned back, his golden eyes sparkling in anticipation as he took a sip of wine. It was as if he was relishing the taste of my presence, the way I was about to relish the feast before me.

"Are you hungry, Selene?" he asked with a smile that danced on the precipice of danger and charm.

The tantalizing aroma of the food filled my senses, and I found it difficult to resist the lure of the feast. My gaze finally tore away from his enigmatic face and fell upon the plate before me. Thin slices of perfectly roasted deer meat, garnished with fresh coriander and rosemary, lay nestled next to golden potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and turnips. It was a dish fit for royalty.

“No,” I said as my mouth turned watery. “Not really.” I swallowed. Hard.

I was hesitant, cautious, wary. I still didn’t know anything about this man. I didn’t know his name, nor his intention. I could barely even remember the truth of what had transpired that fateful night in the forest. And all that, left no room for trust.

“You must be,” he insisted. “Please, indulge yourself.”

My hunger, my curiosity, and the realization that I was stranded in this enchanting yet unsettling mansion won over my reservations. After all, puzzling as he might had been, this man had only treated me with kindness up until that point. He had saved me when my life and my virtue were both threatened by that filthy troll, he had given me a place to stay and a plate of food to fill my belly with. He couldn’t be that bad, right? If he was, if he wanted to harm or kill me, surely, he would have chosen faster and more effective means than poison, wouldn’t he?

“Very well.” I picked up the cutlery, suddenly aware of the extravagant setting, the dimly lit room, and the shadowy figure who had brought me here. I cut a tiny piece of meat and began. Every bite of the deer melted in my mouth, tender and succulent. The roasted potatoes were perfectly seasoned, the vegetables sweet, and the coriander and rosemary added a fragrant, exotic twist to the dish. I moaned. “Oh, my Lord. It’s divine.” I cut another tiny piece, struggling against my desire to just bolt it all down at once. I knew I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be lady-like. Then again, grandmother never cared for lady-like behavior, and nor did my host.

“No call to impress anyone,” he reassured me, taking note of the way I struggled with the cutlery and with my own suppressed hunger. “Dig in.”

I thought about it for a moment. And then I did as he said; as I wanted to do. I dropped the pretense. I was starving and finally ate like it. I set my fork and knife aside and teared off a hunk of bread. I bit into a potato, I gulped down some carrots. I picked a purple berry from the spread before me, placed between rosepetals, canldes and fir cones, and thought to give it a try as well. I opened my mouth and–

“Nuh-uh,” he stopped me.

I looked at him, then at the berry waiting in the palm of my hand, and then back at him. “Why not?”

“It’s a death berry,” he explained. “Good for decorative purposes, even better to knock out a horse or a bear for hours. Imagine what it would do to your tiny, fragile human body.”

I let the berry back on the table spread. “It doesn’t sound like it’s worth it.”

“Good girl,” he nodded in approval to my succumbing. “Try the wine.”

I downed a huge swig and returned to my food, at least that part of it that wasn’t going to be the death of me. As I savored the delectable food, the man watched me intently, his gaze never wavering. He seemed to find a peculiar satisfaction in my enjoyment of the meal. His silence, and the air of mystery that surrounded him, only deepened my unease.

Between bites, I mustered the courage to break the silence. “Where am I?”

He only said: “You are where I want you to be.”

Creepy.

"Why?” I pressed. “Why have you brought me here, to this... place?"

He leaned forward, his smile almost conspiratorial. "I have my reasons, Selene. But for now, let's enjoy the beauty of Vilskansser and savor this meal, shall we?”

I shoved my plate away and took a towel to clean my hands. “Well, I don’t see you eating,” I observed.

In response, he lifted his goblet and drank more wine. That seemed to be all he wanted to do. Be a creepy and cryptic asshole and intoxicate himself. “I am saving my appetite for later,” he confessed.

I raised an eyebrow. “For… when?”

He pursed his lips. “So many questions asked, Selene.”

“So many questions dodged, …?” I left my sentence suspended in the air, a reminder that he had yet to introduce himself to me. Was he ever going to do it?

“Bane,” he added eventually. “Name’s Bane.”

Aha, so he did have a name! Bane. The name carried a weight, a sense of destiny. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had been waiting to hear it all my life and now that I had, I was inexplicably tied to this enigmatic man.

“You really want to know everything,” he said.

“You really want me to know nothing,” I answered. “I wonder why.”

He kept his silence. I put my bare feet on my chair and said: “How about a game?”

“A game?” he inquired.

I took my goblet and stood up on my chair. Then, I stepped on the table and started walking along its length, walking around the shiny candlesticks and their trembling flames, the porcelain dinnerware, the fir cones and the roses. I stopped halfway to grab the carafe and then kept going until I reached him. I sat myself down on the table right before his chair.

“A game,” I confirmed. “One to help us get to know each other better. I get something right about you, you drink.” I gestured towards the goblet nestled in the large hand. “You get something right about me,” I lifted my own goblet. “I drink.”

He leaned back in his chair and looked at me. “Why bother?” he said nonchalantly, yet it was obvious that he was intrigued, he just wanted me to sell him the concept. “I already know the important stuff.”

“Do you?” I teased.

“I know you’re brave and stupid. Stupidly brave. I watched you when you threw yourself between your friend and that troll. I saw you getting yourself in trouble without a second thought. You’re caring, Selene. And sometimes you care about others more than you care about yourself. I know you’re kind in heart. You’re shy and reserved, but there is something wild about you, something fierce deep within. You fight monsters in the forest and you mate with them underneath the blood moon. You moan and you shake and you lose complete touch with who you are. In moments like these, you’re free. And you’re something else.”

That was a bit too much for me to process. Him stalking me through the forest, witnessing my every move, getting to know so many things about me before I even knew of his existence. He made me feel like I was simple, transparent, exposed. Like he had me all figured out. I desperately wanted to prove him wrong. And I wanted to know him, like he knew me.

I cleared my throat and leaned towards him. “And are you mistaking me for someone so dull that my whole existence can be defined by my moans and the stupid choices I make when faced with life or death situations? Is that all you ever want to know, Bane?” I looked him deep in the eyes. “Aren’t you curious for more?” I placed my foot on the handle of his chair, spreading my legs with the move, letting the torn cloth of my gown cover my upper thighs, but only just enough. “Not even a little bit?”

He gave me one more of those bright smiles and his fangs gleamed in the dim candlelight. “I like the way you say my name,” he whispered.

“Then,” I said. “Play with me, Bane.”

He leaned closer, bringing his face right below mine. His fingers grazing the back of my hand on the table. I shivered at his touch, a jolt of electricity coursing through me. “Fill my goblet,” he ordered. “I am ready when you are.”

I obeyed right away. I filled his goblet with the crimson liquid, and prayed with all my scared little heart, that he wouldn’t notice the way I was squashing the death berry fruit between the carafe and my hand. The poisonous droplets dripped from my skin and they mixed with the drink I was serving him from the carafe.

Bane brought the filled goblet to his lips and tasted it. I mimicked the gesture and tried my own goblet. The only difference to what we tasted was that my wine was uncut, unspoiled. Pure. Safe. His was drugged with a death berry, a venom so strong it could knock out a horse or a bear.

Hopefully, a werewolf too.

“Let’s play.”