Temptation [A Young Writer's Prize Submission]

Connections

Chapter Forty Two

Can a man carry fire next to his chest and his clothes not be burned? Or can one walk on hot coals and his feet not be scorched?

Proverbs 6:27-28

I wasn't sure how long we'd been standing there, in each other's embrace, before Lucien suddenly pulled away from me. I could never forget the expression on his face: a mixture of horror, surprise and desire highlighted his features, but it was the horror that prevailed. He released me abruptly, stepping back as though the very feel of my skin burned him. His eyes never left me, though.

"What's the matter?" I asked, feeling a little hurt by his actions. Amid self-consciousness from his close scrutiny, my emotions spun like planets cast away by their orbit. Lust and judgement fled, replaced by the terrifying realisation that I'd let my guard down. I'd practically invited Lucien to take advantage of me - the same way I'd always allowed Cain to walk all over me. I concluded, therefore, that the mortification and shame I was feeling was my own fault, no matter how much I wished he couldn't affect me this way.

It slid into my mind like someone dropping a pebble into water. I wanted Lucien's approval because it - because he - mattered to me. How he'd been able to crawl under my skin, when I was so certain I'd kept my heart safe, was a mystery to me.

Lucien, thankfully oblivious to my sudden epiphany, could only judge by my expression. He saw the most transparent of my emotions; shame and disappointment. His face changed from horror to concern and tenderness. I'd never seen anyone look so caring before.

"Nothing," he said quickly. He cleared his throat, alleviating the franticness colouring that first word. "It's honestly nothing," he reassured me. "Are you alright?"

"I feel a little dizzy," I admitted, taking a step back from his intoxicating presence. I focussed on the branches of the trees around me, trying to keep my balance. His kiss had left me lightheaded, robbed of all sense.

He searched my face, lifting his hand as if to stroke my cheek. Though I could feel the heat of his skin, he never touched me.

"Let me take you somewhere," he said abruptly, turning away from me and taking his invasive gaze with him.

He seemed exceptionally alert as he stalked back to the car park. Despite his gait being far faster and much longer than mine - he travelled twice as fast as I could - he never let me move more than half a metre from his side.

The route he took suddenly changed course. He headed toward a small gap in the trees surrounding the grounds. Keeping hold of my hand, he led me into the middle of it, where he stopped.

There, in the middle of a glade, was a slate grey stone archway. It stood about seven foot tall, appearing to have grown out of the earth, for there was no support either side of it. Greenery trailed up the pillars of the arch; some grass grew over the ancient stones grass growing over the ancient stones, then moss gave an otherworldly sheen to the cracks between the stone. It was framed either side by two large rowan trees. I'd never seen timber as dark as the wood of those trees; the leaves were a sinister shade of green, while the poisonous red of the rowan berries were colourful warnings.

Taking my hand, Lucien guided me closer to the arch, asking; "Have you heard the myths of the rowan trees?"

"They're supposed to ward off evil," I murmured, staring at them.

"Does this place feel evil to you?" Lucien asked, watching me closely.

I shook my head, meeting his gaze again.

"Then I guess they work." Lucien smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. They still brimmed with anxiety.

He stepped closer to me, until only an inch separated our bodies. I stared up at his divinely beautiful face, too shy to cancel the space between us.