Chapter Seven
Prying Pandora
Erik paced his room angrily. What had he been thinking? Forcing the girl to dine with him? He had to be going mad! He had never shared a meal with anyone for as long as he could remember and here he was getting ready to do just that! It was ridiculous! What was he going to say to her? What if neither of them spoke and it was just a dinner of awkwardness?
What was it about this woman that drew him to her? They had hardly spoken and yet he could not pull her from his thoughts. Taking more time then he ever had before Erik began to dress, hoping that tonight would not be as bad as he thought it was going to be.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On not to steady legs Christine entered the dinning hall later that evening. She could not contain her sigh of relief when she saw that Erik was not there yet. That would give her a few minutes to compose herself because she was shaking like a leaf in a terrible storm.
She should not have agreed to this! She should have refused politely and said she had a headache or something believable like that! This was insane, dining with the Black Wolf. He frightened her out of her wits and she knew that was the only reason she had agreed to this, she was afraid of frightening.
"Really, Christine, you are acting like a child!" she scolded herself. With a very deep breath she seated herself and laid a napkin on her lap. She could do this, it would be simple. She did not have to speak to him; she would eat her meal and then excuse herself. Yes, she thought with a satisfied smile, that is what she would do.
She glanced around the room and her eyes almost immediately fell on a grand piano sitting in the corner. The Black Wolf had a liking for music? Who would have guessed? Leaving her chair she walked cautiously toward the piano and sat down on the bench. She trailed her fingers lovingly over the keys and played a small tune her father had taught her long ago. The thought of her father brought a dull ache to her heart and she stopped playing.
"Please…continue," a gruff voice said. Christine gasped and turned to see the Black Wolf standing there. She stood up immediately.
"No…thank you, I was just looking," she replied hastily.
"Then would you mind if I played?" he asked. She shook her head immediately. He walked to the piano and sat down while Christine studied him with slightly hooded eyes. He was dressed in formal black trousers with a white shirt and black evening coat. The material fitted his lean body beautifully and Christine could not help but admire him. When he began to play her eyes snapped to his face. He played…beautifully. When she had been told about the Black Wolf she never thought that he would have a talent for music. The white of his mask gleamed in the candlelight and Christine found her curiosity stirred.
Why did he wear such a thing? What did it hide beneath? It was a shame that he marred his beautifully handsome face with that cold porcelain. It could not be comfortable, it did not look comfortable. The Black Wolf in the White Mask…
She approached him slowly, the music and her curiosity pulling her forward. She sat down beside him and though Erik seemed surprised he did not mention anything, only continued playing. Her eyes had yet to leave the white in front of her and her hand hesitantly moved toward his face as she touched the skin on his neck with slightly shaking fingers. He turned to look at her, presenting her the good side of his face as well.
Christine's hands slightly caressed his cheek and he closed his eyes in surprise. Do it, see what he is hiding! No, it is not right! You know you will not rest until you know what lies beneath that mask! Her conscious was arguing with her but she had to know. Her fingers curled beneath it and she yanked.
Her scream filled the room as Erik threw her away from him, making her land roughly on the floor, gasping as she tried to collect her breath to scream again. His hand had flown to his face to cover up the horror that was before her.
"How dare you!" he yelled. Christine flinched and tried to crawl away. But he grabbed her arm and forced her to stare at him. She closed her eyes and he shook her.
"You wanted to see it, wench, then look!" he spat at her. Christine could not open her eyes. How could that have been his face? He was so angry! His shaking was beginning to hurt.
"Let go!" she pleaded, his grip only tightened.
"Open your eyes or so help me I will kill you!" he yelled. Christine's eyes snapped open in fear only to gaze upon the mangled flesh of his face. The skin was a maze of puckered pink scars that no longer looked like flesh. His eyebrow was gone and no lashes framed that beautiful eye of his. It was horrible.
"Let me go…please," she whimpered, tears coming from her eyes. His jaw clenched as he muttered numerous curses at her. To her horror he began dragging her out of the room.
"Please! Stop!" she sobbed.
"Ah, my dear, it is far too late for that! You wanted to see what I was hiding and now you will never leave here!" he growled. Christine felt her heart skip a beat. He was going to force her to stay here?
"Erik, no, you cannot mean that!" Christine cried. When he did not reply Christine began to struggle and try and strike him.
"You know my secret, mademoiselle, and I will not allow you to tell anyone else!" he said angrily.
"I will not say anything to anyone! I swear!" she said pleadingly. He did not seem to hear her and before she could say more he threw her into a room and locked the door. Christine was surrounded in darkness.
She began to cry. Had she not told him that she was absolutely terrified of the dark? She huddled in a ball in the corner…his face never straying from her thoughts. Why had she allowed her curiosity to get the better of her? He was going to keep her prisoner! All because she had seen the horrors of his face.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Erik threw a vase across the room and it shattered into a million pieces. How dare she touch his mask? Had he not been civil to her, inviting her to dinner and here she yanks of his mask! God! Her scream still echoed in his mind as did her look of disgust.
No one saw what he hid without dying. She was lucky he had not killed her. In all reality he did not know why he didn't kill her. The more he thought about it the more he wondered what was stopping him. Making a decision he headed towards her room, his fists clenched in anger.