The following weeks were a bit of a blur, each day leaving her exhausted. After a particularly grueling day, she had fallen asleep in the soothing heat of the bath, her muscles basking in the relaxing heat. And even though she had awoken dressed in bed the next morning she hadn't confronted Sebastian about it.

The lessons had moved onto more taxing exercises such as fencing. They had also finished with table etiquette, moving onto the art of conversation and then the art of poisons. There were so many ways to kill a man that she felt she could never learn them all. But it didn't stop her from trying. Annabel was always quick to remind herself to the reason, quick to remember her mother's screams whenever she felt like quitting for the day or taking a rest.

It was a Thursday afternoon and she'd just finished learning how to boil down herbs in a way to make the resulting poisons more potent. Sebastian was clearing up the results when he spoke, breaking her from her thoughts. "I had thought perhaps that we could go to your home village in a fortnight's time," he began and her eyes widened. "You have come far in your training and it will be time to put it to some use."

Annabel was quiet, turning to gaze outside where fall was approaching its end as she thought on his proposal. Was she ready? She wanted to be ready. "Okay," she replied finally, turning to meet his crimson gaze. She would need to make a plan for how to take them down. There were quite a few people from the village that needed to pay. He was watching her closely and she wondered if his mouth watered when he thought of the eventual meal she would make.

"There is one more lesson that we haven't yet begun to broach," he brought up just before she moved to stand.

"Oh?" she questioned, honestly curious. Sebastian continued to clean things up as he nodded, placing everything on the tea cart.

"Yes young mistress," he began, glancing at her as he continued, "I believe it would be prudent for you to learn the art of seduction." Annabel blinked hard at that, finding herself at a momentary loss for words.

"I know it is your wish to deliver their deaths personally, and this would allow you easier access to many of your targets," he continued nonchalantly, his tone as bland as if they were speaking of the weather.

However, she saw his eyes flash when he spoke of her delivering their deaths herself. Annabel had grown somewhat accustomed to Sebastian and knew the glow in his eyes came from his excitement. "And just who would be teaching me this art? You Bastian?" she asked, eyebrow arched.

In moments he was seated beside her on the couch, she hated when he moved to fast for her to see, but the look in her eyes kept her from admonishing him. "Do you not think me up for the job, my lady?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper. He reached forward a delicate finger and brushed it over her cheek, turning her to face him. "I can assure you that it is an artform I too have studied," he continued, breathing out against her face, his knee brushing hers through their clothes.

His breath smelled strangely sweet and she found herself blinking, her mind hazy as her lips parted. Everything about him, from his smell to the alluring curve of his lips, called her to lean closer. His fingers slid down from her cheek to brush down the line of her neck and her breathing hitched in response. A slight shiver raised the hair on her arms and she swallowed hard as he drew nearer. Faintly, somewhere in the back of her mind, her body was screaming for her to stop, to recognize the danger he posed and yet another part of her wanted to know what his lips felt like. What his hands felt like.

Just before his lips could meet hers, her eyes flickered open and she caught sight of his glowing red gaze intent on her lips. Her hand came up suddenly like a whip, cracking sharply against his cheek. It felt as though she surfaced from a dream and her eyes narrowed in anger. "You would do well to keep your hands to yourself Bastian," she spoke from behind clenched teeth, her fury a tangible thing between them.

His porcelain skin was reddened where she slapped him but he looked anything but admonished. A hunger entered his face, making his red eyes continue to glow with lingering excitement. Still only inches from her face he slowly licked his lips and she felt a touch of fear and arousal swirl in her lower abdomen. "Of course, my lady," he spoke out, his voice little more than a heated whisper. Some irrational part of her wanted him to continue, especially when she watched the way his nostrils flared and his eyes flickered down between them. As if he could smell her arousal.

Leaning back he was standing by the cart again in an instant and he gave a slight bow of his head, turning to push it from the room. Before he could leave she spoke out, "Sebastian? We shall begin the new lessons tomorrow but you shall be on your best behavior."

The hunger in his eyes was now gone, or perhaps just well hidden as he gave a slight nod of his head. "I will do my best to please you my lady," he spoke, a wicked sly smile curving his lips before he departed. If anything he kept her on her toes she thought with a sigh. Annabel rose then and headed for the door where a thick long blue coat was waiting as well as gloves and a scarf. Sebastian had become used to her taking a stroll after their lessons and they were always waiting by the door when she needed them.

Bundling up, Annabel stepped out into the cooler air of the courtyard, setting course for the stables. The grounds were looking much improved, the stray thorny vines cleared and all the statues cleaned and somewhat restored. Her breath rose up like smoke in front of her face and she was quick to cross the distance to the large sliding door, slipping into the barn where it was relatively warmer.

Soft snickers called to her and she turned to see their new pair of carriage horses, both their dark heads over their adjacent stall doors as if begging her to come pay them some attention. She smiled, stepping over to them and raised a hand to each of them stroking lightly over their noses. "Good boys," she cooed softly, laughing quietly when the one with a large blaze of white down his face reached out to nip at her coat. That one was Loki and the other was Hod. Their names were due to the fact that she'd been reading a book on mythology when they'd arrived. They were both large black stallions, their only difference the markings on their faces. Hod only had the barest sliver of white down his nose.

"Good afternoon Miss Annabel," a friendly voice spoke from behind her and she just barely kept from jumping. She hadn't heard the young stablehand approach, she'd been too wrapped up in the animals in front of her.

"Hello Jack," she replied primly, continuing to appease the duo in front of her with gentle strokes. His footsteps came closer and she turned slightly as he drew nearer. He was dirty and he smelled like sweat and horse which made her nose crinkle but she enjoyed his presence most times. She'd never seen him be anything but happy and it was strangely contagious.

"I've got a surprise to show you," he suddenly gushed, then promptly blushed at his obvious excitement. The blush is what finally pulled her own grin and she turned to face him.

"Oh?" she questioned speculatively, "What is it?" He beamed at her before waving her in the direction further into the stables. He walked down to another stall where they kept the bales of hay inside, opening the door and gesturing for her to enter.

She heard them before she saw them, tiny mews echoing from the far end of the stall. Excitement quickened her pace and she stepped around a bale of hay to catch sight of a litter of kittens nestled up snugly against a tabby mama cat in a bed of loose hay. Letting out a small gasp she turned to see Jack give her an encouraging nod obviously pleased by her excitement.

"You can get closer Miss," he spoke, his voice quieter in their presence, "Their mama don't seem to mind too much." Turning back, she stepped a bit closer and slowly sank down to her knees, not wanting to startle the new little mother. The cat in question was laid out on her side and only followed Annabel's movements with weary green eyes. There was a small bowl of water and then a dish with meat trimmings nearby and she was pleased by Jack's care. Eight little kittens were nestled in close to the tabby cat all various shades of grey and tabby, blindly pushing themselves against her side, their tiny mouths latched against her. All but one.

A smaller grey kitten pushed and prodded against his littermates, his loud mews insistent, but he couldn't seem to get through. There were just too many. She smiled at the tiny thing's tenacity but then frowned slightly. It was obvious he was the runt of the litter and he didn't seem to be making any headway with his voracious siblings.

Turning she looked to Jack, concern evident in her tone, "Will this little one be okay?" His mouth turned down slightly at the edge and he gave a small shrug, running a hand over the back of his neck.

"I couldn't say Miss," he replied hesitantly, looking over the litter before continuing, "He's a fighter but he's small and weak. The world ain't so nice to things like him." Worrying the inside of her cheek slightly she stood and tapped at her cheek.

"Let me know if he isn't doing well," she spoke calmly despite her slight worry. He was so small and vulnerable. It reminded her of herself. Jack nodded in answer to her words and she soon excused herself so that the mother could rest easy, making her way back to the manor.

--------------------------

The next day Annabel awoke before Sebastian came in and the light coming in seemed abnormally bright this morning. Lifting off her covers she slid her feet into a pair of warm slippers and padded to the nearest window, pulling back the curtain to see outside. Glistening white snow seemed to cover every surface and her eyes widened at the sight of it. It was magical.

As if he had sensed her awakening, a slight knock sounded on the door before Sebastian entered, his normal tea cart preceding him. His presence reminded her of the lesson they would be moving onto today and she felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. As with the other lessons, she would be starting with a completely clean slate. There hadn't been much room for romance in her life when everyone had suspected her mother and by proxy, her, of being a witch.

"Good morning, my lady," he greeted her, beginning to pour her a cup of tea. She turned back to look out the window again, not wanting to be caught eyeing him.

"Good morning Bastian," she replied, waiting until he brought her the steaming hot mug. Taking it in both hands, the hot china warmed her cold fingers and she blew lightly over the surface while he moved to her wardrobe. In the last couple weeks as her exercises had ramped up he had been laying out breeches and linen shirts. Today he pulled out the green satin dress she had worn her first day here.

Annabel didn't comment, instead taking a sip of the hot contents in her cup. She was pleasantly surprised to find that the hot contents were not tea at all but a soothing apple cider, sweet and cinnamon lingering in her mouth. A pleased sigh left her lips after she swallowed and she finally turned from the window, watching as he finished preparing her garments for the day.

"This is good," she praised softly and a small smile curved one corner of his lips.

"I thought it fitting for the weather," he explained, stepping back once everything was out. There was an under corset laid out this time and she groaned in dismay, eyeing it skeptically. "Do you require my assistance my lady?" he asked, his voice neutral, however, she knew he would take pleasure in her discomfort. And they both knew she wouldn't be able to tie it up herself. She momentarily debated calling in the maid, Ana, but the poor girl was rather skittish and had hardly spoken two words to her since arriving.

Allowing the quiet to stretch she took another long drink of the cider before walking to the cart and setting the cup down. It wasn't as if he hadn't already seen it. Rather than actually answering his question she instead ordered, "Turn around Sebastian." He promptly turned to face the door without a word and she took a deep breath before pulling the long nightgown off over her head. She shed the undergarments she wore and then stepped into the fresh ones, all the while keeping her eyes on his backside, ready to tear him apart if he so much as shifted to turn.

Dressed in nothing but a thin shift and small bloomers she grabbed the cream colored corset and placed it over her breasts, clutching it close before clearing her throat. "You may turn now Sebastian," she spoke, and she made sure she was already facing away, not wanting to see the way he looked at her or even worse be caught blushing when he turned. A heavy pause sat between them before she heard his footsteps as he approached before his fingers gripped each side of the corset and began lacing them together in the back. She was acutely aware each time his fingers brushed against her back and the silence was near stifling.

The laces started at the bottom and ended at the top and he smoothly brushed her hair forward over her shoulder. She could feel as he gripped the ends of the laces in one hand and then his other pressed against her lower back, just above her bottom, pulling a muted gasp from her lips. Before she could protest he pulled the laces tight and the air was sharply pressed from her lungs. Trying to suck in a breath against the force of the corset she was denied the air when he pulled again, restricting her chest even further.

Both her hands came up to her chest where her breasts were pushed up rather prominently as if threatening to be squeezed out of the top of the corset. "You're such a bastard," she accused between tight breaths, trying and failing to pull in a deep breath. He chuckled at that and merely began to tie off the laces with agile fingers. As she relearned how to breathe, Sebastian picked up the green dress and pulled it over her head, pulling her arms into the sleeves as if she were a child. He didn't put nearly as much effort into the laces of the dress, only making sure it was snug over the corset.

Without responding to her insult he moved to the vanity, picking up the hairbrush and gesturing for her to take a seat. Annabel gave him a stern glare before stiffly moving to sit in front of him. She would never admit it, but she thoroughly enjoyed having him brush and style her hair. Not only was he good at it but he had a surprisingly gentle touch. Closing her eyes so she wouldn't be tempted to watch him, Annabel relaxed as he worked, folding her hands in her lap.

It wasn't until he began to speak that she opened her eyes but his gaze was fixed on her hair. "For breakfast this morning we have poached eggs in a hollandaise sauce with salmon and a side of rye toast." His voice was level and her stomach grumbled hungrily at the words. She had never eaten so well. Soon she would have to watch what she ate but between the exercise and how thin she'd been, she could continue to indulge for now.

His fingers winded skillfully through her curls, winding it into thick braids that were spun into a bun at the nape of her neck, easily covering the devil's mark she bore. Once he was finished he wordlessly stepped back and led her to the dining hall. She ate slowly, unable to think of anything else but their upcoming lesson. Nerves kept her from being able to finish her meal, not to mention how her corset squeezed tighter as she sat, and she gave a heavy sigh.

As always, Sebastian was there in a heartbeat to pull out her chair and usher her to the study where they had spent a lot of their time the past couple weeks. As he closed the door she quickly put some distance between them and strode to sit on the familiar red velvet chaise. Smoothing her sweaty palms over the skirts of her dress, she was acutely aware of his approach and her heart began to beat faster.

Sebastian took a seat on the opposite end of the chaise, the picture of ease. He gave her an easy comfortable smile and if his eyes hadn't been such an unnatural hue it would have appeared friendly and normal. Taking a deep breath Annabel squared her shoulders and faced him resolutely before speaking, "How is this going to work?" Her words were stiff and clipped. He raised an eyebrow before crossing one of his legs over the other, resting an ankle on the opposite knee as he leaned back.

"First," he spoke, looking over her form, "You need to relax and smile." She exhaled heavily trying to ease some of the tension in her body. Scooting back further she leaned against the back cushion and attempted an air of nonchalance with a small smile, however it was clear from his raised eyebrow that she was failing miserably.

Quickly, the smile turned into a scowl and she snapped, "You try to look relaxed when your ribs are being squeezed into your lungs." He gave a slight sigh and uncrossed his legs before moving closer at which point she stiffened.

"Relax, my lady," he chastised mildly, reaching forward to adjust her position. Annabel's lips tightened into a thin line but she didn't pull away from his touch. As if she were a feather light doll, he moved her to the corner of the chaise, repositioning her arms to rest on the arm and back of the furniture. One of his hands slid behind to arch her back slightly while the other tilted her chin up.

Heat spread out from where he touched her and she was breathing a little easier in this position although the arch in her back only pushed her breasts further up and out, no doubt his intention. "A key to seduction is being able to pull the eye where you wish," he instructed, lightly running his fingers down the line of her throat and then down to the swell of her breasts. "Your greatest strengths lie in the delicate arch of your neck and the curve of your figure," he spoke, his voice dipping an octave as he slipped over the indenting curve of her waist.

Annabel felt her abdomen clench and the tight line she'd been holding her lips in failed as they parted in a soft panting exhale. She licked her lips but stayed silent, allowing him to continue in his instruction, feeling a strange anticipation for his continued touch. His voice was like warm silk dancing over her skin. "You have to embody desire, feel it, in order to seduce," he continued, one of his hands gripping her waist while the other came up to cup her face, running the pad of his thumb over her lower lip.

His crimson eyes were half lidded, his entire body angled in close to hers and she felt the pull of him like a tangible thread connecting their bodies. "Do you feel it?" he asked quietly, his face drawing closer to hers and she wondered exactly what it was. But she felt something.

There was no helping it. She wanted him to kiss her desperately. He was only inches away and she found herself nodding almost imperceptibly in answer to his question, holding her breath for the inevitable.

"Good," he spoke, his voice suddenly different, back to its normal pitch. He pulled back from her and she drew in a ragged breath, confused. "Use that feeling," he continued, his grin widening at the look on her face. Reality settled in as she realized that she'd been played.

Bastard. Dirty, teasing, demon bastard. Her mouth was dry and her pulse was pounding in her ears with the denial. Frustration quickly morphed into anger and her fingers dug into the fabric of the chaise where her hands were perched.

"You look utterly ravishing," he suddenly admitted and it kept her from screaming at him, at least for the moment. Taking a deep breath to quell her rising anger she leaned back away from him, pressing herself into the cushions as she eyed him warily.

He had made her feel weak and she hated that feeling. "And you look like a fucking asshole," she replied with more than a little hint of snark and it made her feel a bit better. His smile was fixed and he took up the same position as before with his legs crossed.

She knew that being angry with him would do them no good. And this so called training was actually something she needed to learn. Pursing her lips she closed her eyes for a moment to block out his smug face as she tried to bring back the way he'd made her feel.

Annabel pictured the feel of his touch and the weight of his lustful gaze. Shifting against the chaise she could feel herself relax into a more languorous position before she allowed her green eyes to open and find his.

"Alright Sebastian," she drawled out, emphasizing the end of his name, "I do have a question for you." Allowing her eyelids to drift into a more relaxed position she crossed her legs slowly and licked her lips.

A part of her felt completely foolish but she was emboldened when his eyes followed her movements, lingering on her now shiny lips. "Yes mistress?" he questioned, watching her unabashed, "You may ask whatever you wish," he continued.

The air seemed to thicken as she allowed the desire she felt from earlier come back, openly appreciating the beauty and strength that clung to him. One of her hands brushed over her hair and she ran a finger up and down the side of her neck before idly resting it against her cheek.

"Do you ever imagine how I taste Sebastian?" she asked in a low voice and his eyes flashed, his fake desire melting away into something more real. Annabel slid her finger back down her own neck before allowing it to wind back to the mark at the nape of her neck. She brushed over the mark in a gentle graze and he twitched slightly, shifting his hand where she knew the mark lay.

Her question was thick with multiple meanings, but she was certain the thing that would bring him the most pleasure was thoughts of her soul. Little did she know, this little game was only twisting and amplifying the pull it had on him as her soul flared brighter with her strange wicked innocence.

Sebastian had frozen where he was and she decided to keep pressing, letting her legs uncross as she scraped her nails lightly down her own chest. The movement pulled his glowing crimson eyes to her breasts and she leaned in towards him.

"I'll just bet the anticipation drives you crazy," she continued her voice little more than a sultry whisper. "Don't you ache for a taste of me demon?" Before she could continue he had moved in an instant, faster than she could follow. He was now hovering over her, his feet planted on either side of her legs while his hands gripped the chaise, his fingers just barely brushing against hers.

Annabel was frozen beneath his towering form, more aroused than she'd ever been in her entire life. Sebastian had never looked less human in her presence, his beauty turning inhuman as a subtle glow infused skin paler than hers and shadows began to caress his form. Even his own breath was coming and going a little faster and she knew the emotion that was taking over his features. Hunger.

The game she was playing was a dangerous one and she hadn't expected it to affect him this much but she was far from displeased. While he lusted for her soul she was left desiring his touch again, the heady fear and arousal making her feel truly alive again. No one had ever looked at her with such blatant desire.

"You have no idea my lady," he whispered above her, drawing in close before running his nose along the line of her neck and inhaling deeply. She arched beneath him, exposing her pale flesh for his perusal letting out a slight moan as he released a soft sigh.

Abruptly the door to the study flew open and Sebastian was gone, leaving her alone in the room, her face and chest flushed with arousal. Jack, the stablehand, stood in the doorway his blonde hair a disheveled mess.

The abrupt change had her reeling and she was left staring at him mutely before registering that he'd said something she didn't catch.

"Jack?" she questioned in a confused and perhaps irritated tone, *What are you doing here?"

The man in particular did look thoroughly uncomfortable and seemed to realize that he was behaving rather rudely to a woman of her apparent station. "Sorry Miss, I shouldn't have just barged in," he apologized, biting his lip nervously. "But ya told me to come straight to ya if the kitten was doing worse today."

A measure of worry entered her mind and she forgot about any offense she may have felt at his unannounced intrusion. Smoothing her hands over her skirts, Annabel did her best to shake off the lingering memory of Sebastian's presence. She rose quickly and spoke, "Have the cook warm a small bit of milk," she ordered, quickly stepping from the room. It was good he had come when he did, before she had done something she would regret. Still, that thought did little stop the residual ache that lingered in her breasts and between her thighs.