It was because Madeline had never craved for a life in the castle and maybe it was because she was happy with what she had. She was the person who was happy wherever she was and somewhere between the stealing glances between her and James Heathcliff in the past, she had thought maybe it would lead to something more in the future. Everything had been in if and maybe but she was content. But here she was given a life that was more than what she had. It didn't come with just the status of the luxury in the castle with posh clothes and jewels. She wasn't naive that there was more to the castle in here. Even the walls held secrets.
Her feet made themselves towards the couch, but she didn't sit. Her eyes fell on the number of cushions placed at the sides, and when her eyes shifted to her left, she noticed the fireplace that was burning with logs of woods in it.
Hearing the sound of Calhoun's shoes against the floor, she turned to see him walk to where she was, and he sat down comfortably on the couch. The coat he had been wearing around his body had been discarded and that only raised bells in her head.
She wanted to ask why he was torturing her with actions like these, but at the same time, she knew that his answer to her question would only bring words of his satisfaction. She gulped when he made eye contact.
He then raised his hand for her to take. Her hand moved gingerly towards him, slightly shaky as she placed it on his hand to feel him clasp it in his large hand, "Sit," he said, and Madeline could feel her head spinning even though nothing had happened. The tension she felt was enough to make her faint, and she prayed to be alive once this was done.
She was about to take a seat, but out of nowhere, Calhoun tugged her hand to have her sit with her body facing him.
"Are you waiting for me to jump on you, which is why you are slow? Don't keep me waiting," he said to her, his voice deep and his eyes staring into hers was enough to make her freeze, "I would have picked bed because it is much more comfortable, but you were the one to pick the couch," he brought his hand forward to place it on the side of her face.
Her eyes widened at his gesture towards her. It seemed like many horror stories which she had heard from the fellow villagers, Madeline would be the meal of the King. Was she supposed to be happy that her life was being offered to the King? The cruel, cruel man who had her where he wanted.
"I didn't want either of them," she answered, being aware of his touch on her cold skin.
Madeline wondered if Calhoun had fallen in love before. She was curious, wondering if this was his first time and the thought made her purse her lips.
"Today I will show you that it is not necessary to die when the night creature takes blood from the humans," Calhoun's words were meant to ease Madeline, but she was a person who had never been bit before. "Relax," he passed the order, and she tried to listen to him.
"Does the blood of humans vary?" she asked him wearily.
"It does. Some are good, some aren't," he answered her, running his hand over her hair to smoothen them down and tucking some of her hair behind her ear. Seeing Madeline part her lips and close them, he said, "What is it?" The girl looked nothing less than a skittish kitten that was ready to sprint out of the room at any moment, but Madeline knew better than to do it.
Madeline had already spoken about it, she had told him before, but she didn't know if he needed to be reminded again by her or if he had brushed away her words, "This is not the way how you court the person you love…"
"Tell me how do you think a woman wants to be courted?" he humoured her, giving her nerves the time it needed to settle so that her body would not be stiff. Madeline didn't respond to this. She didn't want him to court her, "So stubborn," he murmured, looking at her.
She then said, "Drinking blood is not one way to court a person."
"Did you know drinking blood is a very intimate act in the culture of vampires? And I know we have the habit of taking blood from what we feel tastes good, but that is only until we find the right one," said Calhoun, bringing her hand which he hadn't let go. He brought it on his lap, running his thumb over her wrist.
The strokes on her skin were slow that held enough pressure to keep her aware of his touch on her, "You think I am cruel and pushy, don't you?" Calhoun's eyes were on her wrist, looking at the veins and the pale skin.
"You didn't give me a reason not to think any other way." The King didn't mind her words. He instead savoured her words where she tried to contain her emotions and tried to be precise.
"I cannot help but be me around you," he chuckled, the smile appeared only to leave when his eyes shifted back to look at her.
The way he said those words, something struck, and she accepted that he was accepting who he was, without hiding it from her.
"I am a ruthless man," he repeated, "If I don't get things on my terms, I have the habit of taking it by force. Sometimes a little push on external factors works too but don't worry. I will be patient with you on certain things, so you will not fear me the way I want you to."
"But you want me to fear you," she whispered when he pulled her hand up in the air with his hand.
"It is what you believe, but that is not how I perceive it to be, sweet girl," and saying this, his face leaned forward towards her wrist. He sank his fangs that felt like a pinprick. The pain was very faint as she saw Calhoun suck her blood out of her wrist. She had been surprised he had chosen to take blood from her hand and not from her neck as she had heard how the night creatures found it to be easier to drink. Calhoun's lips were on her skin, his eyes closed as it felt like he was savouring the taste of every single drop of blood that fell on his tongue.
The worry, nervousness and the fear that she had been carrying since the time she had entered this room, appeared to evaporate as it didn't feel as scary as she had imagined it to be. Like many people in the village, Madeline had never come across a night creature, a vampire and Calhoun was the first one she had ever met because of the ball.
Calhoun finally opened his eyes that fell directly at her, he used his tongue to lick where he had bit. Her face turned red at this action, and she quickly pulled her hand towards her which he let go.
The blood had trickled down by the side of his mouth, and he used his thumb to wipe and lick it clean by running his tongue over it, "Was it as horrifying as you thought it would be?" he chuckled because of the build-up that had taken place earlier.