Wars of the Heart
Amelia Luna-dynn is a young damsel of unassuming character. However, there is a deadly secret she harbors: that she is the daughter of a forbidden race, a tribe despised by the royals of the Kingdom. She is the sole survivor, discreetly living an unseen life as a commoner. But there are scars on her back that betray her origin, requiring her to cleanse herself in order to stay alive and unrecognised. With such reins attached to her race, it is impossible to find someone who would love her despite the dangers of her origin. But one night, when at the verge of being eaten by beasts, she is saved by a mysterious man from the grasp of death. Curiosity drives the damsel to chase love. Despite being downtrodden, she stumbles upon the opportunity meeting with high society by joining a Book Club run by the beautiful daughter of the Duke, Charlene Walterus. Amelia makes friendships with nobles and soon comes close to a romance with a man she suspects to be her secret rescuer, but is hopeless that his heart is far gone in the arms of the duke’s daughter. Will she win a wedding with the man of her dreams? But most importantly, will her fantasies of a perfect marriage come true? Or will she suffer a strained marital relationship, with unrequited feelings, far from the heart of the one she loves? Excerpt: That night, he was exhilarated to have married the woman of his desires. But Charlene had told him a bothersome fact about the origin of his newly wedded wife that he could not shake off his mind, for he knew she would have told him, had it been true. The tall man stepped into Amelia’s chamber and found her seated at the rim of the bed, blushing. The very sight of her innocent disposition had always brought him the insane urge to sweep her up in his arms and protect her. But before they would make love, there was an important question blaring at the edge of his mind. “Y-you’re here”, her soft voice was almost breathless. She rose to her feet, but rested against the wall, shy and nervous. “Amelia”, he tasted her name, drawing close to her. Tenderly placing a finger under her chin and lifting her face to meet his, he gazed into her eyes and asked, “Is it true that you are of the Celeste Clan?” There was silence in response and fear in her eyes. She did not deny it. A strong feeling of hurt enveloped his chest, when he realised that she was no different. Charlene’s words about her were not simply contemptuous lies of jealousy planted to his attention, but the raw truth. ~ Amelia gasped when he rammed his fist against the wall in the absolute pangs of frustration. It was like it burnt his senses to think that she would deliberately hold something as significant as her origin from him, regardless of all things of his secrets that he had shared with her, while they were yet secret lovers. She knew the fault was hers, but she had been too scared to relay, for she had loved him far too much to lose him. “Why did you hide this from me?” he breathed, voice cold and low and deadly, colored by his unpronounced rage. His face was dangerously close to hers, such that she could hear his very breath, seething. Tears began to pierce her eyes, threatening to fall. She had never meant to deceive him. But in that moment, she was afraid. Heart throbbing loud enough to be heard, her lips were quivering and she shivered. When his gaze swept down at her frightened disposition, there was a flicker of tenderness in his eyes. But it lasted not even as long as a moment’s worth. He was cold. He did not confront her for the secrets she was keeping, but silently withdrew himself. There were many things she wished to say in apology, but she could not find her voice. And by the time she could speak, he had left her chambers. Tears flurried down her face. She could not believe that her fears had ruined the very first day of her marriage. It was the day she had wished to divulge her secret to him, but it seemed like it had already been out.
89. The Smell of Romance is the Smell of infidelity
After the break of her engagement, when she is bathing in the river of Pristin,
The men that save her from the wolves have come yet again while she is still in the water. She claims that she is sick and needs to bathe there once a while during the full presence or absence of the moon.
While she is yet bathing and her marks are still there, she hears the wolves. She screams holding herself down in the water as a dagger flies across the air and nails its target at the neck of a wolf. The wolf's blood taints the water and while the man fight the beasts, she stays under the water, near the edge and slowly takes her towel and wraps herself.
Once the fighting is done, the other men leave and she is left to thank the head of the vigilantes, Lance.
Her feet were wet and bare, with thistles prinking her soles. The man gently took her hands and asked her to place her soles on his booted feet. She refused, hesitating greatly, before confessing, "I am far too heavy for the average woman of society."
In man in response quirked a brow, "I lifted you up in my arms effortlessly when you first encountered the wolves, princess. You're finely shaped, should that ever concern you."
As she rested them on top of his, he slid a hand around her waist and the dip of her back, and held her securely to him so she wouldn't slip and lose footing. The damsel put her hand on his arm that was encircling her, to keep her balance.
A hot sensation tingled on her skin beneath the towel where he touched her and she desperately hoped he couldn't hear her breathing heavy. Her mind berated her, wondering what he would think when his arm could feel the rolls on her back.
She placed a hand on her chest to make sure her towel was in place, before looking up to see him gazing intently at her every move.
"Thank you so much for saving my life. I don't know what to even say. I wish I could give you something in exchange for all this effort and kindness", Amelia rambled, loosening her bun and letting her long hair flow down her back.
The man looked at her longer than he should have, like he was mesmerised by the moonlit glow of her lightly clad figure, before raising an eyebrow challengingly and saying, "So what do you wish to give me?"
Amelia blinked for a second. Feeling flustered, she stammered, "I-I'm sorry, I don't have anything to offer you."
"Well, you don't have to have something to give it", he winked.
The expression made her skip a heartbeat, but the damsel did not understand what Lance was suggesting. "I- like what?"
The man chuckled, before taking her soft hand that was holding her towel and drawing it up to his lips. Brushing a kiss over her knuckles, he looked into her eyes and said, "I believe I just gave you something I did not have."
A warm blush spread over her face when she realised the implication. A million fluttering sensations burst in her stomach and she couldn't meet him gaze. "O-okay", she managed to reply, although the words barely made it out in a whisper.
Lance seemed rather amused by the flustered expression as he slid his hand in his pocket and waited for the damsel in his arm to make her move.
With all the courage in her giddy body, the damsel hesitantly placed her hand on his chest, stood on her tip toes to reach his height and tried to give him a kiss on the cheek. His grip around waist tightened as he leaned down to receive it, for he was much taller than her, despite her efforts to reach him.
Her heart was thundering in her chest and as much as she hoped he couldn't hear it, she knew he probably could from the close proximity and the amused look in his eyes.
She hadn't realised when her hands had crawled up to encircle his neck, but the moment her lips tenderly brushed his cheek, she felt his other arm warmly land on her bare back and her breath hitched in a soft gasp.
Swallowing quietly, and hoping the man couldn't hear how obviously his every motion was affecting her senses, she closed her eyes tight and gently pressed a kiss against his cheek, before withdrawing. He turned to look down at her, his face so dangerously close that her nose brushed his.
"Cutest kiss I've ever received", he chuckled, before diving in to kiss her lips. He was gently, but growing passionate, and Amelia felt herself drowning in new feelings she could never have imagined before.
Her hands were in the tangles of his dark hair while one of his palms played with the nape of her neck, causing chills of excitement to run down her spine. As he let her go, she was breathless, and half dazed, like she was recovering her sense.
Amelia was realising that she had lost her self-awareness only when she was regaining her conscious feelings again.
Then, when she opened her eyes, she saw him gazing at her, with a tender expression in his eyes, but a rather amused smile tickling the side of his lips and a blush painted over his cheeks.
His grasp on her waistline eased and the damsel rested her heels back on his toes, until her head could only reach up to his chest.
His voice was low and husky when he chuckled, "Your moan was so cute."
"Huh?" her words came out in raw curdles as her cheeks burnt uncontrollably. She had not realised she had done what he was accusing her of, but there was nothing she could say in her defence for the damsel had barely had any control for those moments.
Groaning in embarrassment, she looked away, feeling flustered and vulnerable. Just then, there was the sound of one of the men, calling, "Sire", and she could see the flicker of irritation in the tall man's eyes.