The Cursed Prince

'Am I afraid?' That was a new one, Isabelle thought to herself.

She had been asked if she was afraid too many times to count that she could still remember the expressions and faces that said those words. But all of them were taunts and mocking questions that didn't contain any emotion that told her that they cared about her.

However, this man, the husband she had just met, and although staring at her so fiercely that she could not help herself from shivering from his gaze alone, she could feel that he was genuinely asking her about what she feels at that moment.

How long has it been since someone has asked her if she was alright? If she was afraid of pain or death? Isabelle could not remember.

Yet, the man callously asked her only a few minutes of meeting each other.

"I'm not afraid, Your Highness," said Isabelle.

She bowed her head instead. The sour feeling that crept up to her nose and eyes as tears filled her eyes from the outburst of emotions that Isabelle has been keeping inside her inside a bottle and let it float like a ship on top of the hell water.

His words unraveled the deepest emotions she tried to keep from everyone else.

Under his fierce gaze, Isabelle felt like time had stopped.

"Lift your head."

A gloved finger forced her to look up.

Isabelle met his eyes.

"Close your eyes."

Isabelle blinked, wondering why he was telling her to close her eyes. But still, she obediently followed his words and closed her eyes. Is he finally going to kill her like his many other brides?

Hawke Mondragon was the Warlord of the empire. He is fierce and feared across the battlefield. He won several wars against the demons that once trapped the wolvens and humans in a mist of darkness. The vampires that feed on humans were also pushed back to their lairs and had to hide from his sword. Even the traitors of the empire were slain by him.

He is a hero that many admired for his talent and strength. But the darker side of him was what everyone could see. Whilst he became the empire's warlord, Hawke was an abomination that everyone in the wolven community and council wanted to steer clear away from him because of the curse he was born with.

As the eldest prince, Hawke was eligible to become the next King. However, the Wolvens protested against that and decided to pass on a law that allows the younger heirs of the throne to take the crown once the King died. Hence, instead of becoming King, Hawke became the Warlord and brother of the current King.

However, the new King loved his half-brother and didn't want him to live alone in his enormous castle. And so, the elders took it as their job to look for a bride for him.

At first, Hawke thought that it was indeed the right time to settle down, but looking for a willing wife to marry a cursed man like him was the same as looking for a needle in a barn littered with haystacks.

But that wasn't all. Even if the elders were able to find him a bride, Hawke's curse killed all of them.

With just one touch, he could burn them alive and take their souls.

All the women the elders had asked to marry him along with the promise of unending wealth and benefits for their families were afraid of him. Especially, when three of his brides consecutively died just after meeting him.

And even the greedy families and parents who wanted to tie themselves to the crown backed away in fear of him and his curse. They didn't want to risk their lives over something that they might never get to touch in this lifetime.

With his gloved hand touching her chin, Hawke didn't understand why she was so obedient. She clearly knew that she could die once he touched her, but she still did what he told her to do without any hesitations even though her body was trembling like a newborn fawn.

Was she really unafraid of death? He also wanted to know if her words were true.

Isabelle could feel her cheeks burning from how close his body was to hers. His gloved hand was also touching her face and she could feel his undivided attention on her, seemingly as if she was the only thing he could see in his eyes.

The hand that held her face with an uncanny tenderness shifted to be placed on top of her shoulders.

"Open your mouth," he ordered her.

Isabelle didn't doubt his words and opened her lips very slightly.

Just as she thought that she would be killed by his hands, something touched her lips. It was so soft yet also hard. The scent of mint and chocolate became even clearer as it entered her system and made her intoxicated from drinking it in.

The man froze for a moment and there was an impregnable silence in the room when suddenly, he continued doing what he was doing with refreshed ferociousness.

Soon, Isabelle felt something invading her parted lips. It was wet and soft yet, the tip of it grazed her tongue and both of their tongues entangled with each other.

A gasp that turned into a soft moan left her lips as she was in his mercy.

Realizing what was happening and what he was doing to her, Isabelle caught his arms and opened her eyes in surprise.

He was kissing her.