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Shapes of Lies

Daphne walked in a hurry. Getting further and further away from the group and into the darkness of the night. As she walked, the splashing sound of the salty water spread through the air. She was getting close to the sea.

She could feel his presence and still decided to ignore him. Frustration took over her mind, entangling her in thoughts and memories that led her to anger. She could feel it, the changes. Her vision, the strength she owned. And now the flame suspended in the air. And all this began after that visit to Bossurk.

What was she becoming? What kind of monster would she become? With her eyes fixed and her throat dry, she approached the edge of the cliff. She turned around and unleashed all her wrath.

“Why are you following me?” she shouted.

Lorcan appeared in front of her, so close that she had to step back.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked her with composure.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me is you! It’s Rothvaln, everything that’s happening. I’m tired of all this. Why don’t you tell me what the mark means? Huh? Why does everyone know but me? Why did Bossurk tell me to trust you? Why?! Who are you really, Lorcan? What does the mark on me mean? Why don’t you just tell me? I have every right to know!”

“I don’t think you can handle the truth.” His voice sounded even-tempered.

Daphne approached him, her cold gaze piercing him. “Could it be that it’s you who can’t bear for me to know? Tell me what the mark means? Why did I get it?” Her voice was now lower but just as threatening. But at Lorcan’s silence, she only mocked and shamelessly went on to say. “In the end, you and Rothvaln are the same thing.” She turned around and walked away.

She suddenly stopped short when a force grabbed her on the spot. The same energy that was holding her made her turn, and with her feet slightly raised from the ground, her body began to approach Lorcan, whose jaw was clenched and whose fierce eyes were the expression of raw fury. But what had left Daphne in a state of terror was the red eyes of the demon.

Lorcan pulled her towards him, leaving both faces so close that they could feel each other’s breath. With his power, he made her feet stick to the ground without being able to move. Her words had permeated his mind and soul. Compare him to Rothvaln? He would rather have been compared to a filthy mortal than that scum of a demon whose days were counted.

He watched as those infamous amber eyes pierced his gaze. His distinctive red eyes could intimidate even the most intrepid. And it was good that she knew how to be afraid of him. Her fucking mouth was an effective weapon, and the artillery of words had affected him with precision. But he would remedy that, yes, he would now. Because he would fucking teach her a lesson.

The heat rose to her cheeks, leaving them somewhat rosy. The terror of a moment ago began to melt, and anticipation grew from her belly to her heart. She was almost sure that the intense beating of her soul could be heard by him.

His red eyes had stopped being scary. At what point did the fear leave and the desire come? That crimson look was like an impenetrable and scorching volcano as Lorcan’s face approached her.

His fingers grabbed her chin, lifting her face. The light touch was warm and gentle. Her brain was collapsing, the walls of her heart were beginning to crack, allowing the intruder to take possession of it. Her legs were still nailed to the ground and at his mercy, having become weak when Lorcan’s lips brushed hers, sealing them in a kiss.

A stream of sparks exploded, coursing through her body until they reached her innocent heart, inexplicably soothing it. The sensation made her eyes close. Wanting to relish that moment, as her lips began to move to the rhythm of his. Lorcan had also felt those sparks in his body when he placed his lips on her soft spot. When surprised at her response, he subtly invaded the inside of her mouth with his devilish tongue.

The taste of sweet wine had remained on her mouth, and it was as refreshing as the pure air that had been forgotten at the very moment they met in their lust. Her unskilled kisses encouraged him even more. To want to teach her the art of love. To possess her like no other.

Daphne needed to conquer him and to possess that infamous and cruel mouth. She wanted to touch him, and with the strength that would later surprise her again, she got rid of his power, catching the demon’s neck.

Lorcan took her waist, bringing it even closer to his broad and firm chest. He held her tightly, leaving her trapped in his mouth. The kiss had become fierce, intensely possessive. Daphne felt a fiery, foreign desire invade her core.

During that kissing frenzy, her soft moans began to escape from her throat. And Lorcan had not found so much pleasure in a female. Her moans were the new melody of his ears. Her kisses were becoming his new obsession, and her body was the sanctuary of his desires.

She wanted him, inside her, to feel his big, strong hands running across her skin. Her kisses became desperate, open-mouth-kisses. Where their tongues met in the middle, wanting to squeeze out the hunger that they both felt.

The more she hugged him, the more she felt the hard bulge between his trousers.

Lorcan’s hand caught her hair wildly loose, squeezing her mouth even tighter to his, not wanting to let go. His desire for her had obscured his mind. This could not be. This is wrong. The mists of his confused mind began to dissipate.

The cold welcomed her when he pushed away.

Daphne saw his gray eyes staring at her with an expression she was not sure what it meant. Regret? Wonder?

“Why did you do it?” she asked, finding her voice.

“Why not?”

Daphne noticed his indifference and distanced herself from him.

“What do you really want, Lorcan?”

What I really want... he repeated, in the silence of his mind. “Now, you know.” He just said.

“Know what?” she frowned.

“Who is the best of us.”

Indignation swept through her, comprehending what he had meant. Everything was nothing but a game for him. While for her, it had meant something more, being the owner of the first kiss she had given to someone. And she had given it to this jerk.

This imbecile who had awakened in her an uncontrollable passion. A carnal longing. A lust hiding in her until now, and only through those perverse lips had it made it arise.

Lorcan expected to see the anger in that face, where her cheeks were still rosy and her juicy lips still swollen because of his kiss. But to his surprise, he saw only wounded pride. And despite his external coldness, he could not help but feel guilt and regret. But it was a necessary evil. She would thank him later.

“You want to know who’s the best?” she asked, retaking her defensive stance. Lorcan was only silent. He did not want to know the answer. “Neither you nor Rothvaln has been the best.” Daphne watched his jaw tighten, and without saying anything else, she walked away from him.

He watched her from afar, letting her go with that answer in the wind. Knowing perfectly that her answer was a lie.

He wanted her, at all costs, he wanted her more than ever. But he could not keep her by his side. The marks of the bond between them had not yet appeared on his body. She still didn’t love him. And although he didn’t want to admit it, he was afraid to know the truth of her heart.

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