Ileus: The Dark Prince

Iona bit her lip. His presence overwhelmed her. She said, "When I was possessed with Diumbe, they would force me to eat what they liked, which was nothing but blood and bones and flesh. I— I am sick of it. That's why I just want to eat vegetables." 

"I understand that," he replied. On the inside he was thankful that she knew demonic language, else it would have frustrated him more. "You know in Galahar, my people love to grow turnips and radish and carrots amongst other vegetables. Even though to the world we are demons, who must be only into eating meats, but you would be surprised to see that people love farming." Suddenly his expression changed to excitement. "I have so many new concepts to develop farming technology. I have thought of numerous designs of machines that can aid them, that can increase the pace of processes. I want to introduce new land laws and mend the existing taxes!" He took a deep breath and then closed his mouth. Why would she be interested in hearing him out? Besides, things were a distant dream… 

Iona held very still as she almost reached to straighten his hair. The dark locks were disheveled and she had this urge to smooth a cowlick on the left side. She found herself mesmerized by the way he talked, by his dreams for his people and the thing that excited her the most… the word 'technology'. She found herself asking him, "What kind of machines are you talking about?" 

Rolfe jerked his head back slightly. "Lots, like a thrasher, windmills…" He stopped and said, "I don't want to bore you with my ideas. They are too… technical." 

"They aren't!" she said. "I would love to listen more." Suddenly her mind was full of ideas and she felt that she could help him, that is if he let her. 

He chuckled. "I will tell you, but another time. Right now, I want to talk to you about you." 

And suddenly Iona realized that she had nothing to talk about herself. Her past had been so bleak and she had to build a new future. It's just been four days into my new life and there wasn't much… She lowered her eyes and shook her head. "There's nothing…" 

As if understanding her, Rolfe curled his fingers below her chin and nudged her to lift her gaze. "There will be a lot, Iona. You are too young. You are just eighteen. When you are as old as I am, you don't know what to do next for you have done it all, seen it all. Well, my case is different because I revolted against my father, but you— you have a bright future ahead of you." His lips were barely two inches away from her, and even though he wanted to kiss her madly, he restrained himself. He picked her small, petite hand into his larger ones. "Lore wasn't created in one day. It took thousands of years for it to evolve, to develop." She had the most beautiful pair of golden yellow eyes he had ever seen. Those were the only ones actually. Her brother's, paled in her comparison. 

Of course, Rolfe had to say that to Anastasia and see her reaction! 

Iona gazed into his emerald eyes and smiled. He had a way to make her comfortable. Rolfe kissed her on the forehead and she was suddenly gone. And she already missed his presence as she stifled a cry of protest. The man hadn't for once pressured her into marrying him. She found him going towards the bubbling pot, which he took out with caution. Five minutes later, he served her the best vegetable stew she had ever eaten. And Iona couldn't help thinking that he would make a fantastic husband. The thought jolted her. 

As she had the stew, he watched her and it gave him crazy satisfaction to see that he loved it when she was full. He had a passing thought that if he let her go, who would protect this little, tender, soft, delicate-like-a-flower werewolf, as fiercely as him. No one. When Iona's eyes became heavy with sleep after she ate the food, he chuckled. She was like a baby who loved to sleep after having food. Hell, he would never give up chasing one person who was… his. 

Mine. 

He wanted to beat his chest out of contentment. 

"Are you sleepy?" he asked softly. 

"Yes," she replied. 

He had this crazed urge to pick her up and carry her to the little bedchamber that was theirs, but was afraid that she might protest. However, when she got up and stumbled just a wee bit, he scooped her in his arms. "I think my little werewolf needs to sleep because she is too tired." The word 'my' naturally flowed from his mouth. Yes, she was his, and he was going to do everything in his power to keep her with him. 

By the time they reached the bedchamber, Iona was strangely relaxed to the point that her eyes closed. Rolfe tucked her in the furs. "Sleep well, Iona." He leaned in to press his lips to her forehead, and he saw her moving up to brush her lips against his, which was followed by a lazy sigh. He stiffened as his shaft shot north painfully. No one had ever had this gargantuan effect by just a light brushing of lips. She closed her eyes and drifted off to deep sleep. In her sleep she murmured, "Sleep next to me." 

Rolfe was stunned… with relief and ruined forever. She hadn't pushed him away. He got up and stoked the fire in the hearth. Then he took his boots out and lay beside her at a distance… of a few inches. That was all he could manage. He continued to stare at his wee little werewolf. His mate. 

When Iona fluttered open her eyes, she was staring right into those pine green eyes. Rolfe was sitting beside her on the ground with one knee up and his hand dangling on it. He was looking intensely at her. 

"I am waiting for you," he said in a low husky voice as he smiled at her revealing the tips of his fangs. She turned her gaze to the window and found that the sun had risen high in the sky. She had never slept so well in her life. She felt so safe and secure. When she turned to look at him, she found that he was clean-shaven and looked very handsome in his black tunic that hugged his broad shoulders and chest muscles along with gray slacks. Gods, this demon was stunning as hell. She was startled at heat pooling in her belly under his intense gaze. And her breasts… gods, they felt heavy too. What was happening? 

Iona got up and, wondering how she was looking at him, ran her hand through her tangled hair. Her breath became ragged and her cheeks became a deep pink when she remembered how he carried her to the chamber and tucked her under the fur. "I think I slept for a long time," she said in a low voice.. "Were you watching me sleeping?" she asked, bewildered. Didn't the prince have things to do?