They'd warned her. More than once. But she'd not listened, believed she knew better. She had caught his eye from the corner of the hall, a simple shy glance over the top of a wine glass. His presence had engulfed her from that moment, the smouldering control in his eyes, the play of candle light off his pale skin, the casual strength in his impeccably well dressed body.
-Don't go near that man, he's dangerous- they whispered, those faceless, fearful voices. -He'll be the death of you-
Oh but how she wished those voices would quiet as she ran through the brush, her soft slippers catching on stray twigs and thorny grasses, the chilling moonlight breeze ruffling her brunette curls. The dress only hindered her progress, tangling between her legs, suffocating her at the waist, pinching in her ribs. One gauzy sleeve caught on the cruel, brown curve of a long dead rosebush and she twirled on the balls of her feet to stop the material ripping to the hem.
It was then he caught her in his arms, a silent predator sweeping in for his prey his uncharacteristic blue cloak flaring like the wings of death's flight. His silvery voice danced in her ears, and she felt herself responding to the light touch as his arm encircled her waist, melting into the body. She did not feel the ice as their skin brushed. Did not notice there was no light of life in his eyes. Could not see the elongated canines as their lips met...
All she knew was bliss.
Watercolour on 300gsm watercolour paper over a light sketch.