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Eloise looked determinedly at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair, the candle illuminating her chestnut strands with every stroke. She could hear Phillip impatiently pacing at her door, which made her chuckle. He was eager to join her in her bedchamber, and she loved the pull she had on him.
She had been surprised when her mother told her she was a fairy, but it had also made a lot of sense. Fairies thrived in the great outdoors and could not breathe in the close confines of a crowded city like London, where she had trouble fitting in. Fairies needed to fly.
When she had received a letter from Sir Phillip Crane, whom she had been corresponding with for over a year, after the sad passing of her cousin, Marina, his wife, to join him at his country estate, she had jumped on the occasion. She had arrived at the break of dawn, only to be told Sir Phillip was indisposed.
She had thought nothing of it, especially after Gunning had shown her to her room, and had arranged a tea tray with her favourite items. After travelling for hours, she took a nap after her breakfast. Very much restored, she spent hours readying herself for meeting Sir Phillip in the flesh for the first time. Based on his many romantic letters, she had high expectations.
When Sir Phillip entered his drawing room that evening, a sweet decadent smell had infiltrated his nostrils like caramel apples on a wintery day, and his body had yearned to get closer to the lady eagerly awaiting his presence. It had been centuries since he had reacted with such primal intensity when looking at a lady.
When she smiled at him, he nearly bared his fangs, his mind confused over his bodily response. Her smell was enticing, nothing like anything he had ever smelled before. He had been growing flowers for centuries, so he knew about scent. Her scent was lovely and innocent, yet she radiated power. The urge to feed on her was overwhelming, but Phillip managed restraint. It simply would not do to invite her and devour her within minutes of meeting her. He wanted to see if they would suit, he was fed up with roaming the earth alone and he wanted a companion. Through their correspondence he thought that she would be perfect for him.
That had been over a month ago. He had proposed after a few days, and she had gladly accepted. They were still on their honeymoon, as he impatiently paced at her bedchamber door. She was readying herself for bed, and he loved watching her getting ready, brushing her hair until it shined brilliantly in the candle light.
A knock sounded at the door and Eloise smiled. Phillip was attracted to her like bees to honey. Or in this case vampire to fairy.
"Come in, I'm almost ready," Eloise replied in her mirror. She heard Phillip entering her bedchamber, closing the door behind him, but remaining where he was, his eyes locked on her forever stunning beauty.
Her chestnut brown hair glowed almost red in the flickering candlelight, and her eyes sparkled with vitality and just a hint of mischief. He loved her eyes, they were the largest, most achingly beautiful grey eyes he had ever seen. And he had seen his fair share of eyes over the centuries. Her blue dressing gown made her eyes look deeper and more tempestuous than ever, rather like a cloudy sky just before a rainstorm.
Each time Phillip looked at Eloise, every time he sniffed her scent, which seemed to be everywhere since she had become mistress of the house, he felt a telltale tightening in his body, a shiver of anticipation as he recalled what it tasted like the first time he had tasted her. He made himself no illusion; he may have roamed the earth for centuries, in her arms he was just a humble servant bowing to her will. And she knew it.
Eloise pulled the brush through her chestnut hair, while she felt Phillip’s eyes on her back, sighing longingly while running a hand through his already ruffled hair.
Phillip moved closer with every brush stroke, mesmerised by the soft waves of hair cascading down her back until he stood behind her.
His hand came up to stroke her hair, his fingers running through it, before he lifted it to his face and breathed in the scent.
When he dropped the strands from his fingers, it formed a seductive curlicue on her breastbone and he was undone. His fangs bared, his lips moved to her neck, drinking in her skin. He growled when she arched back and offered him greater access. He sank down on the floor in front of her, his knees bending as his lips trailed over her collarbone towards her pulse point, his fangs scraping her skin.
He was startled by her sweetness as the first drops of blood hit his tongue, startled by the way his body came alive with just a single drop. She was life. His life and he would follow her till the end of time.