Like many other times, Madeline felt lost when it came to the words to reply to what Calhoun just said. What did he mean, he wanted to see her cry? Madeline didn't understand Calhoun. It wasn't that she hadn't tried, but she felt he was too complex to figure out.

She felt her heart and mind being twisted in the palms of Calhoun's hand which she had no control of. The man was twisted, more than words could describe. She had felt sorry for Calhoun, but his words sometimes frightened her. He was exactly what he had called himself—the big bad wolf who would eat up any and everything.

"Were you like this always?" asked Madeline to hear Calhoun chuckle.

He looked her in her eyes, "Did you figure it out?" Was that a yes? "Sit still, unless you want the whole glass piece stuck in your sole," he smiled, his eyes twinkling before looking back down to look at her feet.

Madeline wanted to take out the glass piece from her feet at her own pace. She knew it was going to hurt when the glass piece would be pulled out from her sole for more blood to drip down, "So much of waste, when I could drink it," said Calhoun, his fingers holding the glass and when he pulled it, she shut her eyes because of the pain that she felt in her body. Her hands gripped both sides of the bed covers, crumpling and not letting it go.

Her eyes flew up when she felt something warm and soft touch her bare sole, noticing Calhoun's lips that was on the wound. Her face turned flush, when he licked her feet, "Let it go! I-it's dirty!" she had walked through the corridors and had stepped outside near the plants.

Calhoun ignored her words and continued to drink the blood instead of wasting it and letting it fall on the floor of the room.

He had done other embarrassing things with her like placing his hand on her thigh under the table, squeezing her bottom, kissing her, but this was on a whole different level, and Madeline wished he would not drink any more from where the blood that spilt out. Calhoun opened those eyes of his to look straight at her.

His tongue out, moved to lick the wound. Her heart quivered at that action.

"Do you think I care?" he asked her, his voice deeper than usual and Madeline could feel the sexual desire in those words of his. His tongue ran along over his lips, moving to the corner of his lips to lick the blood clean.

No, he didn't…

Madeline could feel the wound on her feet didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. She left her feet on his thigh without moving it. Calhoun pulled out his handkerchief to tie it around her feet.

"Where did you go?" she asked, her words coming out slow.

Calhoun lazily looked up at her, "Out. Did you want to come along?" and Madeline shook her head. Now that she had been bandaged, he asked, "What happened out near the portraits?"

"I placed my hand on top of the surface," she replied, her hands going to look at her hands. Calhoun tsked.

"Always going and breaking glasses. Show me your hands," he said before starting to clean them and Madeline didn't struggle, letting him aid her, "What were you thinking when you were standing there?" Calhoun gave her a look, "Feeling sorry for me?" one side of his lips pulled up.

The wounds on her palms had considerably reduced as if there was something in Calhoun's touch, reducing the wound that was earlier dripping down blood.

"Do you ever dwell about the past?" Madeline asked him.

"Always," he replied, his fingers now played with hers. Pulling and squeezing, not letting it escape from him, "It is the good and bad that keep us alive, but the most painful ones that shape and give you purpose."

"Does it hurt?" she asked him, searching Calhoun's eyes to see if he bore other emotions apart from his cruel intentions towards the people around him for his own goals.

Calhoun leaned towards her, "A lot," he said with a sullen voice, "Barely breathable. You can hear the distant crying and then the screams, but it's not mine."

Abroad smile appeared on his lips. He was speaking about the people whom he had tortured.

A cold chill ran down Madeline's spine.

He noticed how she pursed her lips, wanting to ask more questions but not asking because of not getting the answer she wanted to hear, "Go change your clothes. Not that I would mind you falling sick, it would be much easier to shift you to my room so that I can take care of you."

Madeline stood up from the bed, using her heel to walk as she made her way to the cupboard, "Don't you have to change your clothes?" she asked. Was he expecting her to strip in front of him?

"I want to see you change your clothes," Calhoun answered shamelessly.

Madeline hoped he was joking and when she saw him stand up, she felt he was going to leave. But instead of leaving, he walked to stand where she was.

She hopped to get away from him, and Calhoun didn't stop her. She already had her clothes in her hand, and Calhoun pushed the door of the cupboard she had pulled open.

"I am not your wife yet," she reminded him.

Calhoun didn't stop advancing towards her, his eyes fixed on her, "I didn't say I was going to take you to bed."

"It's the same," if he was going to think that she was going to strip in front of him, Madeline was going to continue wearing the same wet dress she had on her until he would leave.

"So heartless," he whispered. His hand reached to catch hold of her chin, "You know if I want I can take it from you, right?"

Madeline could feel the soft brush of his finger over her skin, "Are you trying to scare me?"

"Never," he smiled at her, "I was only reminding you."

He had touched and kissed her, and she knew she would end up on his bed one day in the future, but she wanted time. Calhoun was sweet with her only when he wanted something. She had seen the way he looked at her when she didn't submit to his demands. It was the dark danger that was lurking at the sidelines.

His words sometimes made her feel he didn't have experience when it came to court a woman, but Madeline knew Calhoun was no child when it came to the art of seduction. Calhoun was undeniably handsome, and he knew it. The smile he always carried on his lips as if he was up to no good, his eyes mixed with a certain wildness that looked untamed yet controlled.

She shivered on the next stroke of his touch.

He was being pushier than his usual self. Stepping closer to her, his hand tucked the piece of her hair behind her ear. But Calhoun didn't retrieve his hand back to his side.

His fingers went to slide over the back of her head, weaving them through her blonde hair and gently pulled her head behind.

Calhoun could hear Madeline's laboured breathing. Her heart that was calm, hitched when he tugged her hair. It seemed like she had a thing when it came to breaking glasses but Calhoun was not made of glass, he was the molten iron.

This is what he meant when he said he would take from her, thought Madeline to herself when Calhoun leaned forward towards her face. Having already been accustomed to his touches where it had been only a few hours since he had bit and sucked her neck, she could feel her skin starting to tingle as she remembered it.

Her throat bobbed up and down when she noticed him looking at her lips.

Madeline's own eyes were on Calhoun's lips that neared hers and she heard him say, "Part your lips for me, sweet."

.

Note: My fingers and wrists are not doing well because of excessive typing for long hours. It started hurting quite bad last night and I don't want to overdo things for now at least until they stop tingling. The chapter rate might not be 3 every day.

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