I Show You Mine, You Show Me Yours
None of the representatives from our pack or Red Convel Pack seems happy with the outcome of the meeting. When the king and the lycans are involved, nobody can do anything but obey. The only person who seems to be very satisfied with the result is my grandfather Quentin. His granddaughter is claimed by a lycan. His pack now has a connection to the royalty. That's quite an honor to our family, he claimed. He walks out of the pack meeting room looking extremely proud and pleased. Alpha Carrington looks visibly upset, and Logan looks furious.
I watch my dad, grandfather Quentin, Alpha Carrington, Lord Archer, Lazarus, Caspian, and Constantine talk outside the pack assembly and party building.
I'm standing under a tree, quite away from everybody else. Serena is standing beside me, looking calm and elegant.
“How did you and Lazarus meet?” I ask her curiously.
A soft smile plays on her lips. “We met during the Great Smog of London in 1952,” she says.
That explains the trace of British accent that I can still hear when she talks.
“I was almost 19, I had no family apart from an aunt and my uncle who raised me. I hadn't yet found my mate and was about to be forced to marry a man 20 years my senior. Lazarus just appeared out of nowhere...in the smog. Though there's nothing romantic about the dreadful smog, I thought he was the most beautiful-looking man I'd ever seen. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I thought if I blinked, he'd disappear.” She laughs softly. “We mated and marked each other soon after we met. He took me away from there. Here I am with him now. The only place I want to be. With him.”
That got me thinking about me and Constantine. I know I asked for more time...but I'm more than ready to mate and be marked by him now. The Question is, how do I tell him that I'm ready? I can't just bring the subject up. Cuddly bunnies! I'd die of embarrassment.
“You're blushing again. Now what are you thinking?” inquires Serena with an amused, curious look on her exquisite face.
“Uh...Constantine and I, we haven't mated or marked each other yet. I told him I'd like some time.”
“But now you're ready,” she states, rather than ask. “You know, it's really hard for them to wait. Their instinct is to mark and mate with you right away. I think Constantine is trying to show you how far he's willing to go for you...even if it kills him. He just needs a little signal or a gentle encouragement. That's all.”
“How?”
She giggles and whispers wickedly in my ear, “You seduce him.”
Seduce him. Okay, seduce him. How?
All the images flitting in my head about how I could go about seducing him are making me hot, bothered, embarrassed, and a little bit dizzy.
After a little while, Constantine disengages himself from the group. His gray eyes zone in on me right away as if he knew where I am at the whole time. He walks over, and my heartbeat accelerates. His dark hair is mussed up sexily, wind-blown. His suit, impeccable except for his tie, being swept aside by the wind.
“See you around, Serena,” he says without taking his eyes off of me as he takes hold of my hand.
Serena laughs softly and gives me a wink.
“Where are we going?” I ask him as he ushers me into his Aston Martin DB11.
“I have something to show you,” he answers, as he gracefully slides behind the wheel, looking a bit apprehensive.
“What is it?” He's making me a bit nervous.
“No matter what I show you, would you promise not to freak out and run away from me?”
Now he's really making me nervous. “Uh...okay? What is it?”
He doesn't answer me. Instead, he glances at me from the corner of his eyes and takes my hand in his over the center armrest between us. He's holding my hand so tightly like he's never letting it go.
“So, your uncle is the king, huh?” I ask instead, after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah,” he answers as he maneuvers the car out onto the main street. The roar of the engine is enough to set my pulse racing. Everything about him screams power and wealth and beauty. I wonder what he sees in me.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Would it make any difference?” he lifts one perfect eyebrow.
I sit silently for a while, thinking. “No,” I answer. Well, it really doesn't matter to me.
“Alexandros has been king for five hundred years now. He expressed his desire to step down and hand the reign to his son, Caspian. My idiot cousin, unfortunately, doesn't show enough maturity nor desire to be a king. He is much like my father, free-spirited and footloose. Since I had been carrying most of his royal duties, his father threatened to pass the throne down to me. I doubt that would happen, but still, I'm desperate to get him to grow up soon.”
“Caspian? Growing up soon? Might take a few more hundred years,” I try hard not to laugh. Oh, poor Constantine. That's a near-impossible task. Constantine looks seriously worried, so I try to look serious, but I think I fail miserably.
He looks at me and grins. “I know, Caspian isn't the most mature person...but laugh now, if I was crowned king, you'll be queen.”
Oh uh, I didn't think of that!
Suddenly Constantine laughs. “You should've seen your face, my love. Not so funny now, huh?”
“No. We've got to get Caspian ready to be king...though just the thought of that is scary,” I shudder. I don't think I ever want to be a queen. I can't imagine Caspian as a king either. “Either way, we're doomed.” I wail. “Let's not think about it yet. It might be a few hundred years in the future, right? Right???”
“Tell me about your family,” I ask him instead when he doesn't answer me right away.
“My parents love traveling the world. That's why I was born in Bucharest. My parents traveled even when my mother was heavily pregnant with me. My uncle, King Alexandros is more of a father to me than my own father. Caspian is more like a brother than a cousin to me. Lazarus is also my cousin from my mother's side. He's one of the best warriors and Caspian's personal companion and guardian. We're like brothers.”
“You don't have any siblings?”
“No, I'm the only child. Thank goddess. Even though my parents are good lycans, they're not the greatest parents.”
“So you, Lazarus, and Caspian grew up together, huh?”
“Yeah, Lazarus, Caspian...and Antonia.” He sighs. “She was like a little sister to me.” There's heaviness in his voice.
“What happened?”
“She was killed by the rebels.”
“I'm sorry.” I don't know what else to say to that.
“That was over a hundred years ago.” He shrugs.
“It still bothers you though.” I observe.
“I don't get how they did it. It's not easy to kill a lycan...even Antonia. A bunch of them were arrested and prosecuted.
“Antonia would've loved you and I've no doubt that you would've loved her. She's the sweetest and the gentlest soul...and kind, much like you.” He smiles gently.
“You sure you're talking about me?” I smile up at him.
“Yes, my sunshine.” He declares confidently, lifting up my hand and kisses it. “You might be silly...and funny...and the weirdest girl I've ever met.” he grins adorably. “And I love that about you, but you're also sweet and gentle, and kind.”
“Ha! The weirdest girl? I should be offended by that!” I huff and squeeze his hand playfully. “But if she's half as sweet as Serena, I know I would've loved her,” I tell him sincerely.
“Come with me,” he says, holding out his hand to me as soon as we arrive at his home.
I'm feeling nervous about what he's about to show me, but I place my hand in his and he leads me up to the second floor. He stops before a door next to his bedroom and enters a code on a keypad on the door.
He hesitates and looks thoughtful before he opens the door to a big room with a high ceiling. Three big arched windows are dominating the northern wall, letting plenty of natural light in.
A big wooden easel stands in the center with a stool. Another smaller easel by a wall. A wooden table with paint tubes, jars of brushes and palette knives, and cans of mediums all over them.
It's a studio! His painting studio.
Paintings are all over the walls. There are a few propped up against the walls on the floor. I look closer at them. Are those of me? I look at the various paintings of me around the room, all over the walls. Various poses. Various expressions. There's me staring longingly out the window, probably in a classroom. Me with a mischievous look in my eyes. Me smiling. Me looking thoughtful. Me looking bored. Me looking very young, probably from three years ago. There are pencil sketches and drawings of me too.
Wow, there must be close to a hundred of them. I didn't count them, but there are a lot! This whole studio is like a shrine to me. It doesn't freak me out though. I'm flattered...and relief.
Constantine's eyes never leave my face the whole time I was studying the room.
“Nobody was ever allowed in,” he says quietly. “Are you going to run away screaming from me now?”
“Why?”
“Because you can see how obsessed I really am with you.”
I giggle. If only he could see my sketchpads and drawing pads I've been keeping secret for the past three years. Admittedly, it's not like this. It's only pads after pads after pads full of pencil, charcoal, and conté drawings of him, but having them made me feel like a crazed psycho stalker or something. Now I don't feel too bad.
“Well, I have a confession to make,” I start hesitantly. “I have sketches and drawings of you too...not like this, but...” I grin up sheepishly.
His eyes light up. “I have to see them sometime.”
“Maybe.”
“Oh, come on, I've shown you mine, now you have to show me yours,” he says, with a wicked look in his eyes. He's making it sounds as if he's talking about something else other than just our drawings of each other.
My face reddens, I poke my tongue out at him and he laughs.
I pick up a few drawing books and folders on the floor. A few look so old. The leather covers are worn and tattered. I look at him to see if it's okay for me to look through them. He nods his head.
Most of them are drawings of places, people and carriages, and horses. He's very good. I'm fascinated. One sketch pad has various sketches of nude figures.
He runs his fingers through his hair. “Those were mostly humans. I didn't...sleep with any of them… you know…” he stammers.
I just shrug and keep leafing through them. I've done sketches of nudes of both men and women. We have an open studio with live nude models every Thursday evenings at the store.
“I have sketches of nudes,” I tell him. “Though I prefer my model to be men,” I tease him. He doesn't look too amused.
“No more nude male models for you,” he states with a scowl. “If you want a male model, you call me.”
“Does that mean I can't model nude for other artists too?” I'm totally kidding. I'm not a prude, but I'll be too self-conscious to be holding poses naked in front of so many people studying and scrutinizing my body.
“No,” he growls as he grabs the sketch pads from my hand and unceremoniously drops them back on the floor. “Not ever, but you can model for me anytime.”
He grabs me by my waist. His eyes on my face. My hands go up to lie flat against his solid chest.
“You want me to pose nude for you?”
“Only if you want to,” he answers seriously. His eyes are smoldering.
“Seduce him,” Serena had said. That gives me an idea. “Sure, I'll pose for you.” I try to sound nonchalant. His eyebrows rise in surprise.
“You think you can handle it?” I wink at him naughtily.
He smiles roguishly and tugs my hips to his. I yelp in surprise and giggle nervously. The look in his eyes is positively predatory.