Married to the Devil's Son

I opened my eyes slowly, unwilling to succumb the sweet dream I had been having. I realized it wasn't a dream, as I felt Lucian's arm around my waist, pressing my back against his chest. His legs entwined with mine under the sheets, his breath in my hair, fanning my neck.

It hadn't been a dream. Lucian had made love to me last night in the most sensual, tender manner. I felt my cheeks heat and my body burn anew as I recalled the beautiful memories. It was an experience I had never had before and never thought I would have. Actually, I never thought such an experience could even exist. How could a single kiss make my head spin? A light touch burn my skin?

My heart skipped a beat as I felt Lucian's arm tighten around my waist.

"Lucian? Are you awake?" I whispered.

"Hmm..." he said in a sleepy voice. Then it was quiet for a while. Had he gone back to sleep?

Slowly, I turned around to face him. His eyes were closed but I knew he was half awake. Maybe he was tired and wanted to continue sleeping, so I kept quiet as to not wake him.

Lord, he was beautiful. Just looking at him made my heart race and my fingers itched to touch him. I let my fingers slide up his shoulder and down his arm feeling the smooth and warm texture of his skin.

"Do that again" he said his voice husky with sleep.

Smiling, I did the same gesture again feeling him shiver slightly under my touch. Then I ran my fingers down his neck, his jaw, his lips, admiring the smoothness. Craving to touch him more, kiss him and hold him.

He grabbed my wrist stopping me, then he opened his eyes.

"Are you done tormenting me, wife?"

"Not yet," I smiled teasingly.

Taking my hand, he kissed my palm then entwined his fingers with mine.

"I have never slept so peacefully before," My heart warmed up at his words. "I wish to sleep with you in my arms every night from now on."

"Every night?"

"Yes, every night." He stated, his eyes boring into mine and suddenly an image of his red eyes from last night appeared in my head.

I had looked into them, into his blood red eyes and still let him make love to me. I should have been scared, should have screamed, or at least asked him what he was, but I had been blind with lust.

"Hazel?" He grabbed some strands of my hair and tugged them behind my ear. "About last night...what you saw...I really don't know how to explain it."

He seemed to think for a while before his eyes slowly became unfocused, distant. All of a sudden, images of a young boy with black hair and golden eyes appeared in my head.

The boy, who looked to be five years old, was happy as he ran.

"Papa," he shouted with a smile and enveloped his father in a hug. The smile quickly died on his face as he felt his father stiffen and recoil from his touch. He looked up at his father to see him look down at him with disgust. His heart dropped to his stomach. With teary eyes, he watched his father from a distance hugging and kissing his brothers while smiling and laughing, and wondered why he had been treated so differently.

Now the boy was a little older maybe eight. He was sitting at the lunch table with his brothers and father.

"Where is your mother?" one of his brothers asked. The boy looked at the empty chair next to him where his mother was supposed to sit, then he looked at his brothers who all were sitting next to their mothers.

"His mother is dead son. Leave him alone." The woman who was his mother said.

The golden eyed boy looked down at his hands feeling all alone. He had heard people whisper that he was the reason his mother died. Because she had to give birth to a monster like him.

Indeed he was a monster, at least when he looked himself in the mirror and saw his eyes red and nails sharp like blades. He was terrified by his own image. He hated what he saw so he broke the mirror with a single thought and then sat in the middle of the shattered glass. Tears rolled down his eyes.

With a shaky hand, he grabbed a piece of the broken mirror and placed it on his wrist. Slowly he cut through his flesh but the pain was nothing compared to the one in his chest. He looked at his wrist, the cut had already healed. If only the wounds in his heart could heal as well.

Why was it so difficult? Why was life so cruel to him? He just wanted to be loved, to be held just once. He wanted someone to tell him he wasn't a monster and that he didn't need to be scared.

But once again he sat in the corner of a dark room, scared, crying in his pillow to stifle the sound. He had almost burned his brother, with just a thought. How was that possible? Maybe he was a monster, who had killed his mother and almost killed his brother today. He deserved to be hated, he deserved to be feared. No wonder his father didn't want him, he had killed his wife and could kill him as well.

The golden eyed boy who was now a teenager had accepted that he was a monster. His heart had become numb from all the pain and loneliness he had to endure so he shut his feelings down.

He had heard all kinds of bad things about himself. He had heard them so many times that it didn't matter anymore. No one cared and nobody would ever care, so why bother? He isolated himself from everyone else but still, he couldn't be left alone. His brothers would mock him every time they got the opportunity and his father would sometimes barge into his room in an intoxicated state.

"You!" his father would shout, pointing at him while trying to keep his balance. "You have made my life a hell! Why do you have to exist you repulsive thing? Why?!!!"

"Father?"

"Don't! Don't call me that. I am not your father!" he would scream. "And don't look at me with those eyes!!"

His father hated his eyes and so did he. Some people said his eyes were made from hell fire while others said they were stones from hell. If people looked into them they would sin and eventually go to hell.

"Father? Why do you hate me so much?" the boy asked gathering some courage.

"Hate?" his father laughed. "I don't hate you, I despise you."

"Then why don't you just kill me!" the boy yelled, tears falling down his face.

"I wish I could." his father spat.

Later that night, the boy stood at the top of the castle's tower, looking down. He took a deep breath. He was going to end his miserable life. No more pain, no more loneliness. He closed his eyes. This was the end he thought.

"Nooo!!" Hazel screamed and Lucian came out of his haze.

Startled he looked at her, her cheeks were wet with tears. He realized that she had seen his memories. How?

"Hazel." He reached for her and held her tightly while she cried hysterically against his chest.

"I am sorry you got to see that. I didn't mean to." He said but she just kept crying.

Lucian cursed inwardly. How was she able to see his memories? To see him in pain was the last thing he wanted.

"Hazel?" He whispered her name while gently stroking her back. "That was a long time ago. Yes, I was lonely. My heart had frozen spreading the coldness throughout my whole body. I lived on, enduring until you came into my life."

She slowly stopped crying and looked up at him. He wiped some tears away from her cheeks. It pained him to see her cry.

"You have given me a reason to live. You have brought warmth into my life, making the ice around my heart melt so it could beat again. And now my heart beats and it beats only for you."

She looked at him surprised, blinking a few tears away and then wiping them with the back of her hand. He could hear her heart race inside her chest. She knew what he was going to say and she waited for him in anticipation.

"I love you Hazel. I love you with all my heart."

Then he covered her mouth with his and kissed her til she was breathless.