Rhapsody

Sunlight persisted in the last hours of daytime, its rosy rays bleeding into heather-colored skies. Underneath its faded light, a flock of coots floated leisurely on smooth waters, its surface offering a near flawless reflection of the row of narrow neck-gabled houses that ran parallel to the canal.

It was an unusually quiet afternoon, with not even a single hushed murmur to drown out the crackle of dried, rust-colored leaves over cobblestone streets. And so amidst the silence, fleeting sounds reigned, and this included the footsteps of a figure striding swiftly down from an old, pillared bridge that arced majestically over the river.

He was dressed entirely in black and wore a grim look over his handsome features. He was on the hunt, with an intoxicating scent drawing an invisible path for him to follow. Gradually, the full notes of its fragrance unfurled itself in the air, and the man found himself sucking his breath.

A tranquil stream of lavender, a beckoning burst of frangipani, and an intriguing, barely distinguishable hint of poison ivy...

A scent like no other, he thought pensively, and one so mild that only those with the sharpest senses would detect the dangerous threat underneath.

The scented trail continued into the heart of Amstel Square, and the man followed it with his customary briskness. He despised waste and inefficiency of any type, and the only instances he was inclined to take his time was when he was fucking someone.

A short distance away, he heard a panicky rush of words being uttered, watchtower sentries frantically sending out messages to anyone who needed to be alerted.

OBLIVIOUS TO THE CHAOTIC flurry of activity taking place within the walls of her school, Rhapsody, seated under the shade, had her head bent over notepad while absently tapping on the blank page with her pen. Already on her twenty-seventh attempt, she was still no closer to finding the ideal words to impart...

I know you know I am Not Normal. It must therefore have been clear to you from the very start that making me your pet and heartkeeper would be A Terrible Mistake.

No, no, no. To write such words would be akin to begging for his lordship's pity, and that would not do. Her Master was an exceptionally kindhearted man. He would never set himself free of her if he believed his departure would cause her the slightest bit of sorrow.

It shames me to admit that I Did Not Completely Understand the duties and responsibilities of being your pet and heartkeeper. It was only when I witnessed the interactions between Lady Zari and Lord Alexandru, your brother, that I realized how Grossly Mistaken I was about my role.

Rhapsody nearly gagged at what she wrote and quickly flipped to the next page in a rare fit of frustration. Why, it was almost as if she was begging her Master to prove her wrong - when that was not the case at all!

She knew - and had long accepted - that she was not the kind of girl men would fall in love with, and most especially not men like her most precious Master.

Vainly she had waited for her Master to break the contract between them, as what was only proper, but two years had already passed, and still she remained under his care.

It was as if her Master was prepared to suffer for her shortcomings, and Rhapsody could not in good conscience allow such a thing to happen. This letter should ensure that her Master would find someone better. Or at least it should do so...if she could only figure out just what to write exactly.

Dear Master,

It has long been made clear to me by A Credible Source that I am Without the Necessary Womanly Assets to properly Stir A Gentleman's Interest. It is therefore best that his lordship—-

Rhapsody's head snapped up as an unexpected sound interrupted the silent stillness of the air around her.

AWARENESS RIPPLED THROUGH the gaggle of breathless young ladies the moment the Marquis of Sangre strode into view.

Tall and strikingly virile, the dark-haired nobleman had a punishingly autocratic air about him that appealed to the ladies' innate desire to be dominated. They loved how the marquis' lethally sculpted muscles were prominently defined against the sophisticated cut of his overcoat, and oh, how their secret parts quivered at his swoonworthy looks, which were as harsh as they were immaculate in its perfection.

Dark, arrogant brows arched over sinfully long lashes and eyes an arresting shade of green. A patrician nose that was an ideal match for the marquis' bronzed, high-paned cheeks and masculine jaw, which was marginally softened by the firm, sensual curves of his lips.

When the marquis' impatient gaze swept over them, the girls couldn't help holding their breaths and hope for the improbable. Oh, but could it be? Could the most powerful vampire in the world possibly be here...to acquire a pet of his own?

A moment later, however, the marquis had swung his back to the crowd, and the girls could only sigh in disappointment as they watched him stalk in the direction of the school's graveyard.

Indifferent to the amount of attention he was attracting, Mihail worked hard to rein his temper in even as his lips tightened in resolute displeasure. Her scent had changed, he thought broodingly, and in such a way that he absolutely did not approve of.

Still in her trail, he soon found himself going down a stony pathway that weaved through marble tombstones and grave markers in the shape of angels and gargoyles. That Rhapsody seemed to favor spending her leisure time at a place where the dead slept, he didn't give a damn. That her scent, however, was now tainted...

His mood grew blacker, and he deliberately allowed his footsteps grow ominously heavy. He wanted her to know he was coming. Wanted—-

His pet and heartkeeper, in the flesh, and white-hot desire struck him like a fucking flash of lightning at his first glimpse of her. His groin had tightened to the point of agonizing pleasure, and his mind had gone completely blank, all thoughts of reprimanding her completely buried under an almost excruciating sense of need.

His hungry gaze ran over her sylph-like form even as he had to clench his fists against the most basic and savage desire to jerk her into his arms and fuck her then and there.

Long, sable-black hair that seemed made for his fingers to grip. Creamy, ivory skin that appeared to beg for his marks, and an exquisite form of slenderness that would be a challenge for him not to break as his thick, hard cock ruined her pussy.

Her beauty was tormentingly exquisite; she was everything he secretly fantasized her to be, and her voice, once it came out, was also every fucking thing Mihail had imagined. Lace-soft and hauntingly serene, it was the sound of unawakened sensuality hidden under a provocative cloak of propriety as he heard her speak for the very first time.

He would still let her go as planned...but not before claiming her maidenhood for himself.

RHAPSODY WATCHED THE marquis stride towards her. This was her first time to see him in the flesh, and even without an aid of photographs or portraits - even if she were also to disregard the uncanny resemblance between him and his younger brother - she knew with absolute certainty that the too-beautiful man who had yet to take his gaze off her...

It could be none other than her Master, and Rhapsody surprised herself by catching her breath as the marquis came to stand before her. How worrying, she thought, and when he finally came upon her, Lord Mihail Gheorgiu proved to be all her worst fears come true. Tall, dark, and handsome like the quintessential Regency rakehell but also big and strong like a warrior. A flawless specimen of hot-blooded manliness, the marquis certainly was, and it doomed what little secret hope she had left about their arrangement.

Ever since finding out that her Master, despite being as old as Methuselah, was far from being elderly and decrepit, Rhapsody had worked diligently to prepare herself for his eventual rejection. That day had now come, and yet...

The rich baritone of her Master's voice distracted Rhapsody from her musings (which were irrational to say the least), and she automatically curtsied even as her brows furrowed ever so slightly. The lush sound of his voice had an oddly lingering impact on her senses, with the way it seductively teased her ears and had goosebumps covering her flesh.

Mihail stilled. Although he knew his pet was not the type to lie, for her to say such a thing...

"The past two years," he said carefully, "gave me the impression that you harbored a sudden dislike to my person." He had expected her to respond with a mere nod or a shake of her head, but instead the words had his pet actually appearing dismayed.

"I offered to visit you upon your arrival in the kingdom," he reminded her, "and you said - admittedly in more polite terms - that it is best I do not bother."

"Because I was not yet prepared to meet you," Rhapsody explained matter-of-factly. "I did not, however, realize it would make milord think I hold you in dislike. That has never been the case..." She saw the look of skepticism on the marquis' face and struggled to find the right words to say. "The idea of you, milord...made me feel what I believe is called...a mixed bag. And now that you have unexpectedly appeared before me, I feel even more conflicted. Truth be told, milord, the number of emotions I have to concurrently process is...overwhelming."

"I am...sorry to hear that." It was all Mihail could think of saying, struggling as he was not to succumb to an improper urge to smile at the rather clinical manner in which she spoke. In order for both of them to regain their respective composures, he simply let time pass and turned his attention to their surroundings.

At the back of him was the graveyard with its stony population of angels and gargoyles, and behind Rhapsody the crooked, leafless trees of Amstel Woods, swaying to the beat of a chilly autumn wind. Put together, it painted a landscape of eerie Gothic beauty...and one perfectly fitting for his hauntingly lovely pet, whose countenance was no longer as ghostly as earlier.

Satisfied at what he saw, he nevertheless sought her confirmation, asking politely, "You are feeling better, milady?"

The question had his pet's lips pursing in response, and he could almost see her going through a mental checklist to examine if she was indeed feeling better.

After a while, his pet lifted her gaze back to his and nodded. "I am indeed feeling better."

And then it was just silence between them, and although he had yet to drink her blood in order to read her thoughts, at that exact moment, it didn't even seem necessary. He simply looked at her, his pet and heartkeeper, and she looked at him, her Master, and somehow...it was the exact same memories that drifted to their minds.

Mr. Booth says I must practice expressing my affection, she had once written to him. Do you reckon I succeeded?

And to which he remembered wasting several sheets of paper until he found the right words that did not cross the lines of deception. While I wish to always take your side on all matters, heartkeeping also forbids me to speak any untruth.

He had hoped that would have been the end of it, but instead she had quickly sent her reply back. It did not escape my notice that you did not actually answer my question.

The memory made his lips twitch, and before him, he saw his pet's lips curve ever so slightly.

Her first smile, the marquis found himself thinking, and the sight was as heavenly as it was earthly, as precious as it was forbidden.

"I truly do not know." Mihail was not lying. "Heartkeeping still remains a mystery to most of us."

"It's strange," Rhapsody murmured. "It is our first time to see each other, but it does not feel that way. It is as if my soul...knows you."

And the fact that she could say such a thing without feeling frightened...well, that was probably also the strange magic of heartkeeping at work, too.

Generations of otherworlders had often likened him to the Grim Reaper (or as the the scythe-holding immortal was known in their ancient circles, the fallen angel Azrael). Of all the Galeré, Mihail was said to be the fiercest and most intimidating. He was not princely and elegant like Silviu, not wicked and charming like Ilie, or gentle and kind like Adrijan. Women wanted him as a lover, even a Master, but as a husband who would be by their side every moment of their lives?

The idea had always been too daunting for the kingdom's womenfolk, and yet here his pet was, claiming with utter sincerity that her soul soul knew his.

Naivë as fuck, Mihail thought. She was too innocent to even realize she should be scared of him, and it had the marquis wondering what other things his dark-haired temptation of a pet could be just as naivë about. A thought nagged him then. There was something else he should be talking to her about, something that had greatly angered him—-

His blood heated. There was something bewitchingly provocative in the way she said the word, and he fucking loved the way her tone lowered ever so becomingly whenever she called him that.

Rhapsody decided it was time to speak of her plans, but before anything else an apology was in order. "I sincerely apologize for my earlier conduct, milord. It was most unbecoming of me to receive you in such a manner."

His pet was now speaking as if she were delivering a eulogy. Charming as hell, the marquis thought, and for some reason, his cock also found it interesting enough to start swelling behind his pants. What. The. Fuck?

Mihail was now cussing up a storm in his mind. This girl would be the death of him, with the way she carelessly threw out the most suggestive words in his presence. How did he wish to be welcomed? What if he were to tell her he wanted her to welcome him by flipping her skirts up and spreading her legs wide open for his cock? Would she truly do so?

Rhapsody stopped speaking when she noticed her Master looking suddenly savagely...ravenous. "Is everything alright, Master?"

Sex had never been more than a physiological activity for him, and just as he consumed blood only when his body required repleneshing, he had fucked only when his cock was in need for release. But where his pet was concerned, nothing was obviously normal. He only had to hear her call him Master, and he found himself craving for the feel of her like he had been starving for it for centuries.

Rhapsody was starting to worry about her Master's condition. He would look in severe pain at one moment and furious enough to throttle someone the next. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Fuck. There she fucking went again, asking so many fucking questions that only had images lurid as fuck flooding his mind. And in all those fucking images, his pet was fucking naked, moaning - nay, she was fucking pleading, begging him to do all sorts of fucking dirty, lewd things—-

Mother of Hell, how he wanted her covered with his cum. How he wanted her to be his, and if any other man—-

Rhapsody nearly stumbled back when the marquis' gaze snapped back to her without warning, and this time his green eyes were harsh with anger.

"You were here with another man earlier," the marquis asked coldly. "Were you not?"

Rhapsody blinked in surprise. "I was, and..." She picked her skirts up. "I must show you something, Master."

Mihail was incredulously when his pet suddenly spun around and ran away. He cursed under his breath even when he went after her. She was running in the directions towards the woods, and he had no fucking idea why.

And indeed, the scent he had detected earlier was once again tainting the air around her, and when he reached his pet, she immediately gestured towards the ground—-