MY MAJESTY - SEASON 3 EPISODE 71

James came here to kill him? That was ridiculous, thought Madeline. James wouldn’t be able to last for more than five seconds in front of the King. But now, he had turned to something else.

“How does one turn to a werewolf?” Madeline asked Calhoun. He turned around to meet her eyes, not replying to her question immediately.

“He got bitten,” Calhoun moved from his place, and walked towards the sink. Pulling out his handkerchief, he soaked it in water, “Change your clothes,” he ordered. With Madeline smelling like the dungeon and reeking like a werewolf, it irritated him. It annoyed him that James had dared to touch what was his. The only reason he wasn’t on his way to the dungeon to break the man’s limbs was that he wanted to hear what Madeline wanted to say.

His anger had not simmered down, and it was still at the top of the roof.

Madeline was surprised as to why Calhoun was asking her to change her clothes when she had already changed thrice today, and this was her fourth dress, “Why?” she questioned him.

When Calhoun turned to face her, his eyes and the expression on his face had hardened. “Would you prefer I unbutton it for you or will you do it yourself?” His words didn’t leave room for discussion, and Madeline sighed. It was just changing clothes, thought Madeline to herself, and she took herself to walk towards the closet and pull out the dress.

Calhoun had turned back again towards the sink and Madeline decided to change her clothes where she stood right now rather than going behind the room divider where Calhoun stood. Keeping the door of the closet open, half of her body was covered. But the closet wasn’t enough to hide her as Calhoun didn’t stay where he was and he came towards her.

Madeline was still unbuttoning her dress when Calhoun stepped in front of her. His expression hadn’t changed much, and he still had a slight look of disappointment in his eyes as she had gone to meet James Heathcliff in the dungeon.

To her surprise, Calhoun raised his hand that held the handkerchief, and he used it on her face to wipe her skin to remove the trace of James.

“I can go and wash my face,” she protested, but this only resulted in Calhoun wiping her lips so that she would stop talking.

While Calhoun’s hand worked on her face by wiping her skin at the possible places James had touched her, so that he could get rid of the man’s scent that was irking him, his eyes were set on Madeline’s brown eyes.

“Werewolves are not creatures who walk with the rest of us on this land, not with humans or vampires. Years ago, they said that the vampires were cursed by the sun, and the werewolves were cursed by the moon. And as years passed, the curse of the vampires had been lifted while leaving the werewolves who are still affected by the moon. It doesn’t matter if the moon is full or half, or if it’s in a crescent shape. Until it is present up in the sky without being hovered by the clouds, it causes the werewolves who turn from humans to feral animals who will kill anything and everything in their way. There are some people who train these werewolves to do their bidding.”

“But James was never a werewolf. Was he?” Madeline asked with a deep frown on her face. James and his father had shown no such signs, and the family had been normal.

Calhoun’s eyes trailed down to see the front buttons of Madeline’s dress to be open. Her smooth pale skin letting his eyes to devour it, “He was bitten yesterday. He is a recently turned werewolf. The cemetery caretaker told me that a bunch of werewolves arrived out of nowhere and one of them bit him.”

“Are you going to kill him?” Madeline didn’t know what was going on in Calhoun’s mind, not realizing that the more curious she was about another man, the more jealous Calhoun turned out to be.

The handkerchief that was on her cheek where Calhoun had been wiping her skin, it trailed down to her neck and then between the valley of her breasts. She shivered feeling the wet and cold cloth.

“Let me be kind enough to tell you that I don’t like the tailorman. Every time you speak about him, it makes me want to torture him,” Calhoun’s eyes flared.

Madeline softly gulped, “How will I know if you won’t tell me,” the last two words turned to whisper when he slid the handkerchief further down that took time to slip past her breasts.

“If I wanted to kill him, I would have done it to him a long time ago, Madeline. You should know that, tch,” Calhoun could see her shiver, subtle goosebumps forming on her skin under the glow of the candlelights in the room, “I am keeping him alive, but he came here in the intention to kill me. What do you expect me to do, my sweet girl?”

“Did you ask him why?” she asked, her mind and body trying to concentrate on his words but they were drifting back to his touch.

“Why? I think we both know the answer to it now, don’t we?” Calhoun tilted his head to the side and then pulled the handkerchief to drop it on the floor. “There’s this sweet girl who everyone wants. James wants her too, but I have no plans to give her to anyone. She’s mine. Mine to love, to care, to touch and to breathe,” he said to her.

Staring into Calhoun’s eyes felt like she was drowning in them, “But he’s marrying Catherine.”

“I know, darling. The man appears to be quite an indecisive one,” Calhoun shook his head, “Though I doubt there will be a wedding.”

“Because he’s a werewolf,” Madeline whispered to hear Calhoun hum.

Without warning, Calhoun pulled her towards him. Leaning down, his lips went straight to the side of her breasts near the valley, and he bit into her skin. Madeline’s skin was soft and tender. This part of her was covered in her fragrance.

“Calhoun!” Madeline’s hand went on his shoulders, her nails digging in there while he sucked her skin. Calhoun had not bitten her with his fangs, but the movement of his teeth and lips were enough to stir her, “We need to talk,” came her shuddered words.

Calhoun wanted to wait, but his control was slipping through his fingers like sand being held in a tight grip. He had been holding himself back over and over again, but he didn’t know for how long he would be able to keep up with it.

Madeline had too many questions and things to discuss, but Calhoun was always ready to catch and hold her in his arms. Her knees felt weak, and she didn’t know for how long she would be able to stand. His tongue trailed where he had been sucking on her breast before blowing air that felt colder than the wet handkerchief he had used on her.

Who knew that jealousy could turn to something like this, thought Madeline to herself. The pleasure felt sinful and torturously sweet on her body.

Calhoun had not let go of her, and he went back to sucking the skin on her breast, which was not exposed completely as only the middle buttons at the front of her dress had been opened. He brought in feelings she had never felt before. Each experience she felt was given by Calhoun, who was her first and possibly the last with the way he was possessive about her. When he sucked harder, it brought out a moan. Madeline was sure that it was going to leave a bruise on her chest.

“Something happened to my back,” she quickly said, and this was enough to catch Calhoun’s attention.

His head moved near-up from the valley of her breasts, up her neck and to hover in front of her face, “What happened?” he questioned.

“There are bruises on my back,” Madeline was still trying to catch her breath, and her breath fell on Calhoun’s lips, and he resisted from kissing her. His eyes suddenly narrowed.

“Was it the werewolf? What did he do?” Calhoun asked before saying, “I need to see it,” and he quickly turned her around.

“No! It wasn’t James. Wait, let me wear another dress!” came Madeline’s startled voice, but Calhoun lacked patience when it came to knowing what was going on with her and in his absence.

“That won’t be necessary,” and Calhoun ran his finger that had a sharp nail on the back of her dress. In an instant, the fabric tore, and the sleeves fell off her shoulders. Madeline’s eyes turned wide, and she used both her hands to stop the dress from falling in the front as if Calhoun had not sucked her breast a few seconds ago.

Calhoun brought the candles closer to her back, taking note of the bruises that were on her skin, “When did this happen?” he demanded.

“It was somewhere in the noon I think when I was in the high tower of the castle,” answered Madeline. Her hair had been pushed to one side over her shoulder by Calhoun so that he could have a better look. Then she felt Calhoun’s finger touch her bareback, possibly tracing the discoloured skin, “I felt pain, and I came back to the room, to see what happened when I noticed it in the mirror.”

“Does it hurt?” Calhoun asked, pressing the skin, and she shook her head.

“No.”