Chapter 3

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A feeling like that was not new to someone like him.

A burning obsession to possess, the almost destroying thirst for anything a vivid creature was able to offer. He was used to it – had actually been used to it for more than several lifetimes and longer. It mirrored what he was and what he would always be: a lifeless creature of darkness that yearned for seducing the light of life to his dark realm. To cloak lightness in a heavy cloud of black velvet.

Desire.

He moved closer towards the soft bed where she was lying. He had parted the curtains, the spacious room now filled with soft streams of silvery moonlight. He had not done it because he wouldn't have been able to see through the darkness within her chambers – the mere thought evoking an amused half-smirk on his cold face.

No.

He had done it because of the way the rays of glistering light were dancing on her pale flesh, illuminating the softness of her skin as if it was covered by thousands of diamonds.

Desire.

Yes, it was a feeling he knew only too well. It was the emotion, the drive a creature like him was existing for. It was the only thing that could create and awake the illusion of life in an unmoving heart like his.

His dark eyes were full of it when he looked down at the dark-haired beauty before him. She had her eyes closed, her head slightly turned towards him, and her creamy breasts were heaving sinfully with every deep, peaceful breath she took.

He lifted one of his pale hands and reached out to follow the low neckline of her night-dress with one finger. A dark smile appeared on his face when the iciness of his skin made her take in an unknowing, sharp breath. But she wouldn't wake up – her heart and mind too deep within the lands of dreams and imagination.

Too unaware, too innocent to know what dangers were awaiting outside her pleasant sleep – the mere thought of it making his darkest urges scream loudly in his head. What he could do to her… within flashes of moments… without her even noticing. The possibilities were endless, reaching from killing to simply taking all of her body until his primal thirst was satisfied.

But instead, he just stood there – motionless, statue-like.

The perfect predator, watching his unaware, beautiful prey.

And by all the heavens – what a beautiful human she truly was – an exceptional beauty with waves of dark curls, blue eyes like the light summer sky, and red pouty lips that were the unspoken promises to so many of his sinful thoughts.

The moment his dark gaze had caught sight of the beauty on Maurice's black-and-white-photo, the undeniable feeling of desire had shrouded his lifeless heart – and the urge to possess had formed in his dark mind.

But this first, almost timid flame of dark need had been nothing compared to the thirst he had felt when the woman had been standing in front of him in person.

Ah… what an exceptional goddess, her Aphroditian curves clothed in a long, blue gown that had mirrored the color of her sparkling eyes, and the tempting aura of innocence had been surrounding her delicious frame.

Her flesh had been covered by an aristocratic pallor, but her cheeks had been illuminated by a maiden blush – a sign for the sweet, heated blood that was dancing through her veins.

He had heard her heart beat when he had approached her, the vivid organ fluttering like a caged bird against her rib-cage.

His slender fingers slowly moved upwards, tracing the pulse point at her throat.

Oh, how he had forced himself to muster all of his strength and self-discipline to hold his composure, to prevent him from taking her right then and there, devouring her body and soul completely.

The desire that had heated his cold blood had increased with every blush of hers, with each of her ringing laughs. But he had forced himself to keep the mask of unaffectedness and mere friendliness plastered across his face, not wanting to scare the young beauty during their first encounter.

She would be his in the end – no matter what path he would take. After all, it was almost impossible for a beauty of light such as her to resist his call of darkness.

Many women had followed his urges, had given themselves willingly to him – their human bodies and weak souls unable to fight the tempting darkness – their blood his delicious trophy of victory.

He bent down, his pale mask hovering only inches before the beauty's sleeping face, eying the object of his many thoughts more closely.

Something was different this time.

He desired her – but that was not what startled him. After all, every creature – dead or alive – would have suffered the same feeling. Her scent, her curves, her innocence – even the smallest part of her simply an appealing invitation of seduction.

And yet, it was not mere desire he felt for her, even though he desired her more than any other woman before – the creature of darkness barely able to resist the urge to plunge his sharp, white teeth into the softness of her pale flesh.

Many times before, he had done just that. Hundreds of years had made him tired of the play of seduction, the monster within him taking what he wanted without asking, without even trying to convince his victims to offer their body and blood to him willingly.

But this woman lying only inches beneath him was different. The appeal of seduction was back in his mind, the mere thought of taking appearing undeserving and particularly unworthy when dealing with a beauty such as her.

She intrigued him, something he hadn't felt in centuries.

The urge to possess had grabbed hold of his dark heart, and the creature of darkness was more determined than ever to break through the beauty's well-kept façade of innocence.

"Belle, my sleeping beauty…" he whispered a message into her ear, his cold lips caressing her skin gently. "You will be mine… And there will be nothing for you or your fiancé to do about it."

Belle's body stirred a little, her brow furrowed as she let out a strange noise in her sleep.

The corners of the dark creature's lips curled up, a promising smile appearing on his face as he tucked one of her curls gently behind her ear.

"Absolutely nothing." he whispered lowly.

A sudden and icy draft of air made Belle suddenly wake up, her body practically jumping awake. With wide open eyes and a fluttering heart she looked around, but infinite darkness was all her wary eyes were able to see.

She illuminated the candle that was standing on the nightstand next to the bed and let her eyes roam over the partway illuminated room. A sigh of relief escaped her pouty lips when she noted that nothing had changed and that no monsters were lurking for her in her chambers.

That was until she lowered her head back into the welcoming warmth of her comfortable bed, and rolled her body to the other side, looking at the other side of her double bed.

Her heart skipped a beat when her eyes fell onto the flower next to her – a beautiful rose with petals of a dark red color was lying next to her, gently placed onto the white, satin-glossed material of the pillow.

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It was almost 4 pm the next day, and Belle was sitting in one of the spacious living rooms of the castle. It was already dark outside … or, at least she thought it to be. It was hard to tell, really, as the castle was obviously placed in a region of Scotland where the sun wasn't able to break through the thick curtains of fog too easily, and the surrounding, big trees weren't helping either. But Belle didn't mind. Not as long as she was holding her most favorite book in hands, and not as long as a crackling fire was giving her the warmth she needed.

Gaston had taken the carriage to visit the closest town, the man apparently wanting to inform his business-partners back in New York that he would stay a little bit longer than first expected. Belle knew that her fiancé didn't trust this Count Gold – even though he had admitted that he didn't seem as monstrous as he had anticipated. And yet, there was something that was apparently making Gaston feel wary about that man. And if Belle was true to herself, she to some extent shared his opinion. It was not that she was afraid of that man. After all, Count Gold had been the perfect gentleman from the very first moment that they had arrived at his castle.

But there was something about him, a mysterious aura that was surrounding him. And Belle was scared about the feeling this aura had made her feel. She had first felt it when their eyes had met for the first time, the day before during dinner when Count Gold had introduced himself. It had been as if his sparkling brown eyes and his smooth low voice had been calling for her, entrapping her body and soul in a paralyzing moment in which neither time nor space had really mattered. Never had she experienced something like that, and she was still not sure if she desired to feel it again.

Belle was used to being in control of everything. That's what she had been taught from the cradle as composure and collectedness were esteemed as being the key traits of a young lady like her. And with Gold… well, the moment she had stared into those burning, brown eyes, her composure had completely vanished. In that very moment, nothing had truly mattered. Not composure, not standards, not appropriacy… not even time. All that had mattered had been the strange feeling of both delicious excitement and haunting fear that had filled her body and soul.

"Interesting book, dearie?" she heard a dark voice announce from behind her.

Startled to the core, Belle let the heavy book in her hand fall to the floor and bounced up from the velvet red armchair she had been sitting in.

Count Gold was standing right behind the chair, and an amused smirk was toying around his lips.

"Count Gold…" Belle gasped as she covered her rapidly beating heart with one hand, unable to continue her sentence.

The Count stared at her for some moments of strange silence, and Belle was certain that he could hear the blood rush through her veins.

"I'm sorry if I've startled you Miss Belle." he finally said and moved slowly closer. "That had never been my intention. Please forgive me."

Belle offered him an uncertain smile and shook her head.

"You don't need to apologize, milord." she was quick to assure. "I guess I had only been too focused on my book. It's not your fault that I didn't hear you coming."

Count Gold nodded his understanding. With one swift and graceful movement, he picked up the heavy book from the ground and traced the leather binding almost gently with both hands.

"Ah…" he announced as his dark gaze feel onto the golden title that were imprinted on the cover. "'Songs of Homer'" he read and after a long beat of silence, he lifted his gaze and stared at the young woman in front of him. "Quite an interesting read, Miss Belle."

"But quite an enjoyable as well, milord." Belle retorted with a shy smile on her lips.

Count Gold agreed with a short nod of his head and a toothy smile on his pale face.

"Indeed it is." he replied and opened the book to flip through it. "So do I assume correctly that you are rather fond of Greek Mythology, mylady?"

"That I am, milord." Belle replied politely, her eyes now gently caressing the heavy books in her host's hands. "But only lately am I allowed to actually explore it further, I'm afraid."

The last part of her statement caught Count Gold's attention and he lifted his head to look at her, a hint of confusion darting over his face.

"And why is that, if you don't mind my asking?" he inquired politely.

Belle watched as one of his slender fingers trailed the uneven book's spine, and for the briefest of seconds, the thought occurred to her how it would probably feel to have him trace the curves of her body with the exact same finger.

A slight blush occurred on her porcelain skin as she caught herself thinking such an inappropriate thought. She immediately tore her eyes away from Count Gold's hand and focused on the blazing open fire instead.

"Those stories…" she started, still trying to suppress the shameful blush on her cheeks. "Those myths… well, they are full of adventure, full of mysteries and full of love."

She turned her head slightly to look at the man next to her.

"They fascinate me." she confessed with a shy smile. "And I could lose myself to each and every old legend."

Count Gold nodded patiently, indicating her to move on.

"Gaston, however…" she sighed heavily and shrugged her shoulders. "He doesn't want me to read them. He says they are not good for a young woman like me. That they have nothing to do with real life, but would only fill my head with silly ideas."

A smirk appeared on Count Gold's face as he listened to Belle's explanation.

"Like what?" he asked gently and moved closer to where Belle was standing.

Puzzled, Belle turned her body to face him again, her brows furrowed and head cocked.

"Like what?" she repeated with a wariness in her voice that mirrored her facial expression.

Count Gold let out a low laugh as his sparkling eyes trapped her in place.

"What is your husband-to-be so afraid of, I wonder?" he elaborated gently while his eyes studied her face closely, giving her the impression that he already knew the answer to his own question.

Belle bit her lower lip in response and shook her head slightly.

"I don't know." she finally replied in a low voice.

Count Gold was now standing right in front of her, the book of question still firmly wrapped in his hands.

"I think you do." he said with a mischievous smirk on his face that made Belle look up again.

He was standing so close, closer than any social etiquette would have seen appropriate. Belle tried to avert her eyes again, his intent gaze making the impression as if he could see right into her burning soul. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to move her gaze as it stayed glued to those dark pools of chocolate brown and gold before her.

"And what would that be?" she heard her hoarse voice ask.

The grin across the Count's face broadened, and a hint of darkness darted over his face.

"Those stories my dear Miss Belle…" he almost purred with a tremor in his voice that sent shivers through her entire body. "… are no innocent love-stories as you might want to see them."

"They are." she insisted, her voice barely a whisper as the closeness of his body made it almost impossible for her to focus on more than the overwhelming scent that was starting to surround her.

Count Gold slowly shook his head as his eyes seemed to trace a path from her eyes to her cleavage and back upwards.

"They are about something more powerful than love, mylady." he finally replied lowly.

He leant in closer, his mouth almost touching her ear.

"Lust." he whispered, the word barely audible if he hadn't been standing so close. "Desire. Seduction."

For the briefest of moments, Belle closed her eyes as all of her senses tried to deal with the closeness of Count Gold and the seductive tone he used to carefully stress each word in an almost promising way.

"A fair maiden who gives herself to an almighty seducer – a God who disguises as a white bull to finally ravish the woman his desire-filled heart yearns for." he continued to whisper.

Belle let out a shuddering breath, desperate to maintain her composure.

"I see why your fiancé thinks those are no stories for an innocent mind and heart such as yours." the voice continued, and it was the almost pitiful tone in his voice that made her finally force her mind to work again.

"I don't." she declared determinedly and took one step away from Count Gold.

The man stared at her, and for the slightest of seconds, Belle thought that she had seen a hint of confusion on his face.

"There might be a fair part of desire and seduction in those stories." she admitted, a heated blush forming on her cheeks – but she found that she didn't care. "But I refuse to believe that this should be all of it – let alone that primal desires are more powerful than true love."

An amused smile toyed around Count Gold's lips as she continued her passionate speech about love.

"Take the myth of the legendary Odysseus for example." she continued, a gleam of devotion apparent on her face. "He was tempted many times it is said – and yet, his heart only desired to return to his Penelope – even after years of voyage and adventure."

Count Gold nodded his silent agreement, and a hint of pride washed through Belle's veins as she saw this sign of small victory.

"Or Morpheus!" she exclaimed as she added another myth to her list of true love. "He even visited the underworld to make a deal with death to free his dead love from Hades' cold grasp."

"But it didn't end well, as far as I remember." Count Gold retorted, the small smile now clearly visible on his face.

"These stories barely do – but that makes them only more beautiful." Belle admitted with a smirk.

"I see." Count Gold finally said after a long moment of silence and Belle couldn't help the triumphant expression that was starting to form her features.

"Even though I find it quite questionable that you so easily pass judgement on something you haven't experienced yet." he finally challenged with a mischievous grin carved into his pale face.

"What do you mean, milord?" Belle asked with a puzzled expression on her face.

Count Gold let out a low laugh and placed her book onto a table nearby.

"I mean lust and desire, mylady." he explained as he gracefully whirled around and moved both of his arms elegantly through the air. "You say love is the most powerful feeling in the world, and yet haven't you already experienced the mind-clouding thirst of lust I suppose."

Belle's cheeks aflamed scarlet as she met his dark gaze.

"A thirst so overwhelming that you forget everything and anything around you." he continued as he started to move closer yet again. "A burning desire that conquers your mind completely until it is fully satisfied."

The smirk on his face broadened as he saw how the young woman's cheeks turned deeper red with every word he voiced.

"Have you ever experienced something like that, I wonder?" he asked lowly, the tone of his voice both suggestive and of a genuine interest. "Have you ever given yourself fully to someone? The desire to let yourself fall to something undetected in the darkness that one would never dare to admit in daylight, your heart, mind, body and soul a burning unit driven by the force of passion and longing until your voice is hoarse from screaming and all that matters is the longing for more? Have you, mylady Belle?"

Belle swallowed hard, his words and closeness evoking something inside her body she had never felt before. But she wouldn't be captured and defeated by words on passion and desire – at least not that easily.

"I haven't." Belle admitted hoarsely, but refused to avert her eyes as she stared straight back at the mysterious Count. "And yet do I believe that love conquers everything, that it is not as weak as you might imply, milord. But I do think as well that lust and desire form a very large part of love. That I don't doubt, even though I haven't experienced it yet."

Count Gold stared back at her, the smirk on his face now replaced by a thoughtful and maybe even confused expression on his face.

He was just about to reply something, when a hint of anger darted over his face and he took one large step away from her.

Within millisecond, the door to the spacious living room flew open, and Gaston entered.

"Count Gold." he greeted the other man politely as he stood right next to his soon-to-be wife. "It's a pleasure to see you again. I was rather worried when you left out lunch today."

The other man offered Gaston a graceful bow of his head.

"The pleasure is mine, Monsieur Chevallier." he answered, and Belle internally wondered if he truly meant what he was saying. "I hope you enjoyed lunch nonetheless."

"We did." Gaston confirmed immediately and earned another nod from Count Gold. "And yet we awaited impatiently your appearance as you promised us to let us see Mister French today, didn't you?"

Count Gold stared at the younger man for several moments of tensed silence.

"I did." he finally answered, his voice now sounding darker and more dangerous than before.

But Gaston didn't seem to notice.

"Perfect." he said cheerfully and offered Belle a toothy grin. "It's just about time to get to see your father, don't you agree Belle?"

Belle gave him a small smile in return.

Of course she wanted to see her father and check on him. And yet, she was still wary about what would possibly await her.

"But I'm sorry to inform you that Mr. French is not feeling very well today." Count Gold broke through the initial euphoria. "He needs at least two more days of rest before he can accept visitors."

"Two more days?" Gaston exclaimed exasperatedly and Belle's heart fell immediately.

Two more days of rest… did that mean the illness was much worse than they had first anticipated?

"I'm afraid so." Count Gold confirmed, offering them a sympathetic smile. "But Mr. French asked me to inform you that he is only too happy that you have finally arrived at my castle, Miss Belle. He is very looking forward to seeing you again."

Belle's lips curled up into a sad smile, the thick lump of concern in her throat preventing her to voice a single word.

"In the meantime…" Count Gold continued as he turned his attention back on Gaston. "Jefferson will be only too happy to show you around. I take it that you haven't had the chance to explore the castle yet?"

"Indeed not." Gaston said, but the hint of frustration and wariness was sounding heavy in his voice.

"Fine then." Count Gold said. "I'll let Jefferson know immediately."

He offered Belle another polite bow and turned around to leave the engaged couple.

"Are you not coming with us?" Belle suddenly exclaimed with an expression of confusion plastered on her beautiful face.

Count Gold turned around to look at her, a sly smile playing around his lips.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Belle." he answered lowly. "I'm not feeling very well."

"Oh…" she replied and a worry line formed on her forehead as her thoughts wandered to her father's illness. "Nothing serious I hope?"

Count Gold let out a low chuckle and shook his head.

"Don't fear for me, mylady." he ensured as he smiled at the couple in front of him. "It is only something rather…." He whirled his pale hand through the air as if to catch the right word. "… permanent."

And with those words, he turned back around, leaving the couple standing alone in the living room.

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Later that evening, Belle left the golden bathroom that was placed next to her chambers and sat down before her vanity mirror. She combed her hair for quite a long time, following her own thoughts as her eyes suddenly fell on something lying on her bed.

She slowly turned around and eyed the small, black box on her bed with wide open eyes. A letter was attached to it, written on rich yellowish parchment. The young beauty's heart skipped a beat when she removed the envelope's seals of a dark red color. She unfolded the letter, only to detect the graceful handwriting she had already seen once before in her life.

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Miss Belle,

I was delighted to hear about your interest in Greek mythology this afternoon. Yet, I have discovered that one of my most favorite legends is missing in your copy of 'Songs of Homer'. Please give me the pleasure to give you mine instead.

Mayest thou find in the darkness of dreams what the light would never dare to reveal.

G.

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Belle reluctantly opened the black velvet box that was lying on her bed.

As expected, a book was inside.

It was similar to Belle's copy and yet so different. It was thicker than hers, and according to the slightly damaged leather binding and individual smell and overall quality much older and certainly more expensive than any other book she had ever held in her hands.

She examined it closely and it was only then that she noticed that there was something pressed between two pages. She opened the book at this point and a dead and yet still lovely red rose floated down onto the soft white sheets of her bed.

Her eyes widened when she noted that the dead flower had marked the beginning of a new story. A story she indeed hadn't read before.

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'The Abduction of Persephone'

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