“So the psychological effects,” I muttered. “Do they transfer through the mark? I mean...is that why I feel like this when just days ago I wanted to gut you?”
“What are you feeling?” he whispered.
“I don’t know.”
He stopped for a moment, thinking. “Whatever you’re feeling, it’s not because of any trick.”
“But...” I said, my words shaking past my lips. “I’m tired,” I forced out, despite that my body was screaming to be near Draven. My heart was aching to keep him close. “I need to lie down,” I said, gently pushing him away to give my retreat some room.
Draven didn’t resist. He didn’t even look at me as I slid past him and slowly walked back up the stairs and out of the dark library of artifacts and history. I couldn’t even explain what I was thinking. All I knew was that it went against everything I’d believed in the past. It went against everything I’d heard or been taught. I’d been taught Draak history before, but never like that. Never from the lips of a Draak who’d lived it. I felt as if an ugly box had been opened and inside things were not nearly as grotesque as the outside. Things were complicated and beautiful and now I couldn’t look away.
I skipped dinner that night. Eating was the last thing on my mind. I showered and went straight to bed, but sleep didn’t come for hours. I lay atop the soft sheets, staring up at the ceiling, but my thoughts were moving so fast I couldn’t seem to settle on just one. Instead, I saw a puzzle of images that didn’t make sense. A sea of emotions that wouldn’t stop.
I closed my eyes, bringing my wrist to my chest and coiling my other hand around it. From the brand came a faint heat that soothed my anxieties. The heat warmed my palm and moved up my wrists. Up my arms. It swam through my veins all the way to my chest where it blanketed my heart. Here I was, looking to fire for solace.
30
Everly
. . .
The next morning, I holed up in my room, certain that if I ran into Draven I’d have no idea what to say to him. So that’s how I spent the next couple days. Avoiding him. When I did see him, I tried my best to act as if I had other things to do. I half-expected him to catch me in a corner somewhere, but instead, he kept his distance. For once, he seemed respectful of my space. The growing contrast between the Draak he was when we first met and the man he seemed to be now just made me doubt myself harder.
Sitting in my room the night before the Gala, I was lost in confusion, regret, and nervous contemplation. I’d been trying to cope with my feelings and yet I felt like I was further from a conclusion. Thankfully, a small knock at my door took me from my circling thoughts and I could tell it was Keera, not Draven. I stood from the cushioned chair I’d been slumped in for the last couple hours and took a deep breath to welcome her into the room.
“Come in,” I said.
Keera stepped through the door with a sweet smile and a white, plastic bag in her hands. Closing the door behind her, she ventured forward and placed the bag on the bed. From it she pulled gloves, hair dye, and bleach. I looked at her, waiting for an explanation.
“The gala is tomorrow,” she said. “And I thought we could refresh the color in your hair.”
“Really?”
Keera uncovered the color bottle she’d brought and I saw a rich lavender on the label. Smiling and rolling my eyes at the same time, I approached her.
“What’s wrong with my hair now?” I asked, knowing the roots had grown out far enough to make an odd line of color across my head and what had once been lavender before was just a greyish-silver now.
“Nothing, but I was bored,” Keera said. “And my son doesn’t have hair to play with.”
It really didn’t take much convincing for me to sit down and let Keera go to town on the unmanaged color of my tresses. She washed it, combed it, and began working to correct the dull hues that hadn’t been touched up in almost a year. I could tell she was having fun.
“So do you know what you’re going to wear tomorrow?” Keera asked, trying to make conversation.
I shrugged. “No. I’ve never gone to anything formal. I don’t really think any of us are going to have fun anyways.”
“Even so, I would love to help you pick something out. You’re the champion, you know. You should look the part.”
“Fashion’s not really my area of expertise.”
“I’ll help you,” Keera smiled. “Other Draak and their Ashlings come through the estate from time to time when the regents meet from other sectors. They leave behind clothes that we usually just store away.”
“Others stay here? Guess that explains why the place is so big. All this space is ridiculous for just two Draak.”
“The estate is a bit of a crossroads for Draak. Draven usually doesn’t even stay very long. Since you’ve been here, he’s stayed longer than he ever has.”
The mention of Draven made my breath stop. Keera seemed to have noticed my reaction because I felt her hands hesitate in my hair as she began to spread the dye. She didn’t ask me anything about him, despite that he was obviously the reason for my sudden silence. Instead, I found myself suddenly needing an outlet for my festering thoughts. Just like I had vented to her in the dining hall. I took a deep breath, biting my lip to keep from spewing words uncontrollably again.
“Everly?” she said. “Are you alright?”
“No,” I said softly, staring at the wall across the room.
“Is it about Draven?” Keera asked, her voice gentle.
I faltered again at his name, unsure what any of it meant. Looking down, I gawked at the brand around my wrist and couldn’t settle on whether or not I hated it. The constant desire to let Draven touch me every day wasn’t helping me decide. Was I lusting? Did I care for him? Was I just sad and lonely and unable to weigh my options fairly?
“Could you tell me more about him?” I asked.
“Um,” Keera started as if I’d caught her a bit off guard. “Well, I’m not exactly one of his closest friends. Lukan is, though, and Lukan looks up to him more than anyone. He looked up to Valerio as well.”
“And? What redeeming qualities does he have? I barely know him.”
“Are you looking for something about him in particular?”
“N-no. I’m just trying to understand him. I don’t really know him and—”
I stopped myself, staring again at the blank wall.
“And you can’t stop thinking about him,” Keera finished for me.
I let out a long sigh, but I couldn’t bring myself to deny it. Keera continued coloring my hair
“He’s old,” Keera said after a few moments, her tone still gentle and quiet. “And he’s been through war after war on multiple worlds. According to Lukan, that is. He’s better at fighting than he is at anything else. I imagine that’s why he’s so confrontational with you. The fact is, he’s seen and lost more than many of us. He’s not a bad man, though. He has little faith, but only because he’s—”
“Never mind,” I interrupted. “This is just making things worse.”
“Everly, you seem distraught. Are you and Draven...growing closer?”
“No,” I lied. “I’m just trying to see things more clearly.”
“You’re trying to understand your feelings, perhaps?”
I was annoyed at Keera’s ability to interpret my behavior, but I couldn’t argue. My silence just seemed to confirm her suspicions.
“Have you ever had feelings for anyone?” she asked. “I mean those kinds of feelings.”
“No,” I answered with a small shake of my head. “I don’t know what those kinds of feelings are. Can the mark do something like that? Make me feel things?”
“No. Not really. Draak can mark whomever they want and there have been plenty of instances where those who are marked have gone their separate ways. Draak can use the mark to heal someone who’s dying or to mate or to enslave. It depends on the circumstances. The mark makes us more aware, but it can’t make us love.”
“Don’t say
that!” I barked, turning with a finger pointed up at Keera. “I’m not talking about love. I’m not even sure I’m talking about caring.” I turned back around with a huff, crossing my arms. “Draven forced me into this and I can’t forget that. He’s cruel and…” I couldn’t finish. I sat for a while, unable to form words the way I wanted to. “And...I can’t stop thinking about him,” I said, somewhat unintentionally.
Again, Keera was quiet for a moment, spreading more dye across my hair and twisting the doused strands atop my head.
“I think he cares for you,” she said, catching me off guard.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “That’s a little hard to believe,” I said under my breath. “Lusts, maybe. But men and women alike have been writing me off my whole life. Now I’m supposed to believe a Draak like Draven Tempest cares about me?” I chuckled in disbelief, bringing my fingers to my mouth. “There’s no way.”
Gods, it was all such a big mess in my head and I couldn’t, for the life of me, even begin to sift through the pieces and put them together. Deep down, I felt as if I was lying to myself.
“Well, just get through the gala,” Keera said. “After that, the two of you should talk, I think. I mean really talk.”
“We’ll see,” I said, a dread floating inside me like I’d never known. I wished the gala would never come, if only to keep me from the other side of it.
31
Draven
. . .
Everly hadn’t spoken to me in days. I’d barely seen her except in passing when we visited the stables or ate in the dining hall. Even before, when I’d given her a reason to fear me, she had never acted so timid. I was uncertain whether or not to approach her and therefore kept my distance, confused myself about what was going on between us.
When the day came to prepare for the gala, I wondered if she’d back out of the arrangement just to stay away from me. Had our relationship been purely physical, things would have been easier.
I waited in the entrance hall at the base of the grand staircase. I was dressed in a sickeningly formal wine-red suit with gold embroidery down the back like tree branches made of fire. I’d pulled my hair into a tight bun, but was irritated by the feeling of it tugging on my scalp, so I loosened it before long.
Lukan was the first to come out in his silver and blue brocade suit and raven locks slicked back from his face, though he seemed almost as uncomfortable as me in the tailored clothes. I let out a deep sigh and exchanged an understanding nod with him, slipping my hands into my pockets.
Just as we were about to head out, Keera came around the corner with a bright, innocent smile on her pixie face. When she stepped aside from the doorway, my heart skipped a beat or two. Everly was almost unearthly. Her slender form was dressed in a black gown that draped gracefully, dragging a bit behind her when she stepped forward. A sleeve made of mesh and silver lace covered one arm completely while the other was bare. Her skin, which had become fair in the time she’d been at the manor, was luminescent in contrast and a compliment to her freshly colored, pale lavender hair, twisted away from her face and cascading down her back in relaxed waves. She almost glowed.
Everly stopped, taking a breath as if she was nervous. Her eyes met mine and in the light they were the most beautiful shade of grey with vivid green specks. She blinked, her fidgeting making it obvious that she’d never worn a gown in her life. I watched as she stepped forward, listening to her taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she came to me and every part of my being realized something in that moment. When it was all over, I would release her if she asked it of me. At the same time, I finally admitted to myself that if it was my choice, I would never let her go.
When we were close, I could smell the lavender oils on her and beneath it, the raw, sweet scent of her skin that made me want to devour her right there and then. I looked her slowly up and down, taking in every detail until my eyes met hers again.
“Keera gave it to me,” Everly said, referring to the dress. “And she did my hair.” I stared into her grey-green eyes. My not saying anything seemed to make her more uncomfortable and she cleared her throat, adjusting her weight from one leg to the other. “It’s not very comfortable,” she said. “I have my leggings on underneath. I hate feeling unprepared for—”
“You look beautiful,” I said.
Her eyes darted up as if surprised. She parted her lips, but no words came. Gesturing toward the door, I began to head out, beckoning for her to walk with me to the car parked out front. Outside, a chauffeur waited for us in front of a white Rolls Royce. Overkill, in my opinion, but Ares was one for appearances. While Lukan took the front seat, I sat in the back with Everly.
The sun was setting. The road was empty, winding through the woods toward the city. It was peaceful, but all the while I felt Everly’s pulse nearby, beating with a contemplative rhythm. I looked over at her and found her staring out the window at the passing trees and the purple sunset that backlit them. I wanted her to look at me. I wanted to see her eyes and, just like that, she turned, her gaze meeting mine. There was a long moment in which we both looked deep within each other. Finally, she let her lips form a soft, gentle smile.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
“Why don’t you just read my mind?” she teased.
“I’d rather not. I have a weird hunch that I’ll find an equal amount of pleasant and threatening thoughts in your head.”
“You’re not wrong,” she shrugged.
I was pleased at how calm she was acting now that we were sitting together. Suddenly, there was so much I wanted to say to her. I caught myself wondering whether or not I should tell Everly about the memories I had witnessed after our first night of intimacy. But now wasn’t the time to tell her exactly how deep our bond had gotten over the past few days. I could tell she had been putting a lot of thought into our relationship and I had no intention of complicating it just yet, especially tonight when we both needed our heads to be fastened on right.
Driving through the city at night was a very different experience than in the day. Lights twinkled and gleamed all over the metropolis, making it seem more alive in some ways. I could hear the bass of clubs and bars as we passed and remembered walking into one not too long ago in an attempt to pull my thoughts from the woman now sitting next to me. Now all I could do was think of how much I didn’t see myself with any other woman in the near and possibly distant future. Fuck, I cursed myself.
The streets were somewhat empty as most of the population was enjoying the nightlife indoors. When we came to the Draakir building, the events of the past couple weeks began to rush back into my consciousness.
I remembered the first time I saw Everly, decked out in leather, her body riddled with small injuries and smelling of instinct and determination. The look in her eyes was a fierce, almost animalistic glare that cut through the room like barbed wire. I recalled lying to her. Pulling the trigger at the back of Taurus’s head and watching her catch the falling Pike in her arms, devastated and confused. I even enjoyed her desperate retaliation and the moment I placed that damn brand on her wrist against her will. It excited me to make such a wild creature my own, but now? Now I was beginning to wonder what I’d really done that day. What events I’d really set in motion.
The car pulled up to the curb where men in velvet, black suits stood along the sidewalk. Security, no doubt, even if Ares enjoyed putting them in snazzy suits rather than uniforms. Young Draak with little else to give their lives purpose. The tension that would permeate a room filled with Draak and rebels was sure to be volatile. I stepped out of the car and circled around just as the chauffeur was opening Everly’s door. She swung her legs out in a delicate manner, bright silver pumps on her usually boot-covered feet. I offered my hand, but she hesitated to take it as if the gesture was unexpected. Slowly, she placed her hand in my palm and I closed my fingers over hers, helping her out of the car.
Lukan straightened his bl
azer, clearing his throat as he watched the array of suspicious individuals filing into the building. Some of the rebels didn’t even bother trying to be elegant and wore their weathered coats and jeans like they were heading to a boxing match. Others wore suits and held themselves like the elite they thought they were.
“This is such a bad idea,” Lukan exhaled, walking on ahead as if to scout a good path through the other guests.
I hadn’t let go of Everly’s hand when we started walking, despite the fact that she’d already released her grip on mine. I could see her dwelling on our joined hands in my peripheral, looking around as if to make sure no one was watching us.
“I thought we were supposed to hate each other tonight,” she said in a voice only I could hear.
“We’ll play it by ear,” I said, heading toward an entrance around the side of the building with Lukan to avoid the other attendees for a few minutes longer.
As we rounded the corner into a poorly lit passage, I adjusted my grip, weaving my fingers through Everly’s. She hesitated, but then I felt her squeeze my hand in return.
Lukan opened the door for the two of us and we entered through a hallway with crimson carpeting and pure, white walls that made the light reflect brightly down the passage. It was quiet, the distant sound of piano playing from the ballroom above us. I forced my thoughts to return to our mission.
“Can’t say being back here brings up any fond memories,” Everly sighed.
“I doubt there will be any better ones tonight,” I said.
In the lobby, the other attendees were ascending the main staircase to the second floor, but once more we avoided them via a small stairwell off the public path. We climbed two flights and exited into another hall leading straight to the ballroom.
The smell of Ares’ burning incense and wine wafted through the building. Turning through a set of double doors that were propped open with heavy, glass weights, we were faced with the gala’s moderately populated event room.
Ash Bringer (A Storm of Fire: Paranormal Dragonshifter Romance Book 1) Page 25