Crimson Kissed Bride
{MATURE CONTENT R18+. No Rape}
"So, Lady Aisling," Baron Kylian Hawkrige's voice rumbled, a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine. He stood across the room, a silhouette of broad shoulders outlined against the flickering flames. "Do you intend to play the reluctant bride all night?"
Aisling lifted her chin, emerald eyes flashing defiance. "And what role would you have me play, Baron? The grieving widow, perhaps? Or perhaps the grateful concubine?"
A muscle ticked in Kylian's jaw, the air crackling with unspoken tension. "Neither, my dear," he countered, taking a menacing step closer. The firelight glinted off a silver skull signet ring – a memento mori glinting on his hand. Aisling's breath hitched. This wasn't the reserved, haunted man she'd envisioned. This was a predator, and she, his captive prey.
"Marriage," she spat, the word laced with venom, "is a sacred bond, Baron. Consummation shouldn't be a mere duty."
A slow, predatory smile spread across Kylian's face. "Formality can be most…pleasurable, Lady Aisling," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Especially when the wife is as defiant as you seem to be."
His hand shot out, a blur in the firelight. A gasp escaped Aisling's lips as he grasped the delicate lace at the back of her gown. A single, swift tug sent the crimson fabric cascading to the floor, leaving her bathed in the flickering firelight, a beautiful, defiant statue carved from ivory and rebellion.
Kylian's eyes burned with an intensity that both terrified and strangely thrilled Aisling. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. His voice, a low growl, sent shivers down her spine.
"Now, Baroness," he murmured, "let us see if your screams can rival the ghosts that haunt these halls…or perhaps, they'll be a melody far sweeter."
The air crackled with unspoken desires and a darkness that promised a wedding night unlike any Aisling could have ever imagined.
*****
Aisling, a fiery redhead barely a woman, is bartered away to the enigmatic Baron Kylian Hawkrige. Whispers of a haunted past and a brooding solitude shroud Hawkrige Manor, a gothic monstrosity that chills Aisling to the bone. Her arrival is marred by a shocking crimson stain on her wedding dress – a violent secret that binds her to a fate worse than death.
Kylian, a man as handsome as he is haunted, offers a chilling proposition – a marriage of duty, not desire. Yet, beneath his stoic facade lies a darkness that both repels and strangely attracts Aisling. As she delves into the manor's dusty secrets, she uncovers a chilling truth - the stain on her dress isn't the only mark of violence that taints these halls...
Rhysmonde · Fantasy
