The Autobiography of the Dark Prince

by Dan Wingreen

  "I'm always serious about people I'm attracted to. Especially when they make me so angry I need to find a productive way to work off all that excess energy."

  Elias stared at the Prince, completely unable to believe the tripe he was hearing. He'd only ever skimmed one Belinda Beatrice novel, but that was enough to know he was suddenly in the middle of one of the most ludicrous fantasies of middle-aged female nobility.

  "You are completely ridiculous."

  Without waiting for a response, Elias turned and stiffly strode to the door. He pulled it open, but it had barely gotten two inches away from the doorjamb when it was ripped out of his hand and slammed shut. A loud click echoed through the room as it locked, and Elias spun back around. He wasn't sure what surprised him more, that the Prince hadn't moved from his spot halfway across the room and was nowhere near the door, or that his eyes were glowing with a bright purple fire.

  "As I said, you aren't going anywhere."

  An invisible hand shoved Elias from behind and he stumbled forward several steps before righting himself.

  "You have magic," he said softly.

  The Prince grinned. "Let's not get hung up on the unimportant details. Maybe afterward I'll let you ask a question or two."

  Elias blinked rapidly. He never thought he'd actually see real magic, and for a moment he'd forgotten the particulars of the current situation. It took him a moment to realize what the Prince meant, and when he did, not even the glowing eyes could distract him.

  "Open the door. Now."

  "But you haven't even seen the bedroom yet."

  "Let. Me. Leave." Elias ground out through clenched teeth.

  The Prince smirked. "You're in no position to demand anything, Elias."

  "And what position will you be in when the guards find you assaulting an inhabitant of this castle with magic?"

  "Do you really think guards concern me in any way?" the Dark Prince asked. "Besides, your countrymen avoid this corridor like it carries the plague. We are completely alone here. No one ever comes to my door. No one will look for you. You are completely…helpless."

  The Prince took a step towards him and Elias forced himself to stay rooted to the spot. He wouldn't let himself be intimidated. He'd always met the danger posed by others with cool indifference, and that was when he actually had something to fear. He met the Prince's fiery eyes without blinking.

  "You still won't force yourself on me," Elias said.

  It was a struggle to keep his voice calm, but only because he wanted to scream at the infuriating Prince like he'd never wanted to scream at anyone in his life. Elias kept his fury in check only because he knew his calmness would annoy the Prince more than his rage.

  Except instead of getting angry, the Prince just smiled. It wasn't a pleasant one, either.

  "You tell me I don't know you well enough to know your limitations, but then you think you know me well enough to determine what I will and won't do? You have no idea who I am or what I've done. What I'm capable of doing." He paused and let the implied threat hang in the air for several moments. "Which makes it all the more interesting that you're actually right. I won't force myself on you. But while I might not force you into my bed, I can most definitely make you want to be there."

  Elias barely had time to scoff before the fire in the Prince's eyes flashed, and he found himself gasping as a wave of white hot desire surged through his veins like a violent river of fire.

  "What—" His words were cut off by a moan as he felt the tip of his sudden, painfully hard arousal scrape against the rough fabric of his pants. He'd never felt so much raw, naked want in his entire life.

  "Yes." The Prince hissed. "That's what I want to hear. Moan for me, Elias. Tell me how much you want me. You do want me, don't you?"

  To Elias's horror—delight—he found himself nodding. He shook with fear and fury—excitement—as the Dark Prince slowly stalked towards him. His attractiveness hadn't gone unnoticed by Elias, but it had never inspired in him anything more than the minor contempt he usually felt for the handsome and vain. Now he wanted nothing more than to touch his soft porcelain skin. To see the sleek body exposed. To kneel in front of him and pleasure him until the Prince tore off Elias's clothes and took him against the nearest wall. Or the floor. Or anywhere…

  Elias took a stumbling step towards the Prince. Elias wanted to touch the Prince. He needed to touch him. To bury his face in the Prince's neck and smell his dark majesty.

  "Come to me, Elias," the Prince whispered. "Come to me and I'll give you the release you need. I promise you it will be the greatest feeling you've ever had."

  The Prince's words only inflamed Elias's lust even further. Elias came even closer, and reached out a shaking hand to touch the Prince's cheek. It was even softer than he'd imagined. Softer than he thought skin could be.

  What magic is this?

  Magic. That was what was making him feel like this.

  No! It's the Prince. It's his confidence—

  —arrogance—

  —and beauty—

  —vanity—

  —and his…his…

  —his nothing! All he has is a fair face and a spoiled attitude! Everything I hate and nothing I desire!

  Elias caressed the Prince's cheek, then slid his hand into the Prince's dark hair, which was somehow even softer than his skin. Like the finest silk, fit only for the most exalted of royalty. He curled his fingers around those lustrous strands—

  —and yanked the Prince's head towards his as he slammed his forehead as hard as he could into his perfectly straight nose. A loud crack split the air, followed very quickly by a scream of pain from the Prince.

  The desire disappeared like smoke in the wind.

  "Argh!" The Dark Prince yelped, grabbing at his nose. Blood spilled down his hand.

  Elias, freed from the spell, stood there shaking with fury and fear and exhaustion and the thrill of besting the Prince.

  "You…you…" Elias couldn't form words.

  He'd never felt anything like that before. The desire. The loss of control. The magic which still crackled through the room like the air moments after lightning struck the ground. Elias had never felt so much in his life.

  He hated it.

  Elias met the Prince's eyes, and behind the pain there was an almost world-shattering confusion, like he couldn't quite grasp that what happened was reality instead of some terrible dream, along with hints of something Elias couldn't identify.

  "Eliath…" The Prince started to speak, his speech garbled by his broken nose. He paused, as if he was unsure of what he wanted to say.

  Elias never gave him an opportunity. He turned to leave. His steps were shaky at first, but he quickly found his footing. By the time he reached the door and threw it open, he was steady enough on his feet to flee all the way back to his own room.

  Chapter 6

  While the human senses have been known to compensate for the loss or impairment of one of their number—such as when a person who loses their sight finds themselves able to detect sounds that others cannot—this phenomenon does not appear to have any relevance to this line of inquiry. Spatial geometries also seem to be irrelevant, since subtly moving the tables a few inches randomly during the night has yielded no results. In fact, there seems to be no logical explanation as to how scholars are able to walk while reading without colliding into anything—

  With a soft snort of disgust, Elias dropped his quill on top of his notes. This ridiculous research was hopeless. It was a testament to his desperation—not that he would ever say that word, even to himself—that he'd even begun it in the first place, but he'd needed something, anything, to focus his attention on.

  It had been two days since his ill-fated meeting with the Dark Prince. After he'd left the Prince's rooms, he'd all but run back to his own and locked himself inside. He slept very little that night, going over and over what had transpired in his head until it was, quite accidentally, firmly committed to memory. It bothered him more t
han anything had ever bothered him in his life, although probably not for the reason most people would be bothered.

  Elias had gone most of his life almost completely unaffected by the world around him. At times it seemed he lived in a bubble, a part of, yet separate from, the world which everyone else inhabited. And he liked that. He liked being calm and contained. He liked being an island unto himself. He even liked that very few people seemed to like him. It gave him a sense of stability. His life, through circumstances wholly beyond his ability to ever orchestrate, was completely and totally his to control.

  At least that was what he'd thought.

  He hated the way the Prince had made him feel. It went so far beyond the minor inconveniences of living in a world inhabited by people other than himself, and even beyond the irritations of Dunbar's childish pranks. In the span of one hour, the Prince had taken away his ability not only to control his own daily life, but to control his reactions as well. What made it even worse—and to his eternal shame this was the only reason he'd summoned up the will to leave his room in the first place—was that even if he locked himself in his room, he still would be forced to leave to go "help" the Prince once again. In fact, Elias was more than a little surprised that the Prince hadn't already run to the King to inform him Elias was currently avoiding him.

  For the first time in his life, he found himself almost wishing he'd never met Cornelia.

  A knock on his door drew him out of his thoughts.

  Elias considered just ignoring it, but found himself in little mood to play a game of patience with a castle servant. He quickly walked over to the door and yanked it open, an incredibly rude salutation evaporating into the ether as he saw who was standing there.

  The Dark Prince, fully healed and in all his vainglorious glory…right outside Elias's personal room.

  Elias's lips curled involuntarily into a snarl. Yet one more facet of my life he must invade. Is nothing my own anymore? At least he still had control over his voice; after all, he didn't need to speak to write an "auto" biography. He vowed right then he would never speak another word to the Dark Prince.

  The silence stretched on as they stared each other down. The Prince's eyes were their usual blue, so Elias paid little heed to the way they narrowed as he looked Elias over.

  "It's come to my attention that you haven't left your room for two days," the Prince said, breaking the silence.

  Elias scowled. "That's ridiculous."

  He thought about cursing for breaking his vow not thirty seconds after making it, but found himself strangely pleased. After all, it was his choice to speak. "I have left my room several times, most notably to spend the entirety of today in the library."

  The Dark Prince raised an eyebrow, but for a moment Elias would have sworn that he looked almost relieved. "Well you certainly don't look it."

  Elias's jaw clenched. "I apologize, Highness, that my work ethic outweighs my desire to look my best after I've already retired for the night. Some of us put less stock in our appearance and more in our actual worth."

  The Prince's lips pressed into a thin line, but instead of retorting with a taunt he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose without so much as a wince. He must have used his magic to heal himself. The Prince sighed. "Look, Elias, I didn't come here to fight."

  "Then why are you here?" Elias demanded.

  The Prince opened his eyes. "I've come to…" He swallowed. "I've come to apologize," he said quickly.

  For almost a full minute Elias stood stock still in what could charitably be described as complete and utter shock. "—To apologize?" he asked, finally.

  The Dark Prince scowled, but to Elias's further surprise it didn't seem to be directed at him. "Yes. Apparently your Crown Prince was able to slip his handlers long enough to get me alone and accost me with threats and tales of how you've been inconsolably crying in your room for days, or some such nonsense."

  Why must it always be some sort of prince that makes my life difficult?

  At least now he knew where the other prince was getting his ridiculous information from.

  "Well, I wasn't," Elias said.

  It lacked the venom that he'd intended, though. Though the Dark Prince's words were dismissive, once again Elias caught a look that could almost be considered concern.

  Despite himself, Elias was more curious than angry. "And what, exactly, are you apologizing for?"

  The Dark Prince looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Can I come inside? I'd rather not do this out in an open doorway."

  Elias raised an eyebrow. The Prince was actually asking instead of demanding or just shoving his way inside? That was certainly a change.

  "No," Elias answered.

  Although not enough of one that Elias wasn't going to make the Prince squirm if he could.

  The Dark Prince let out a very unprincely huff. "Fine. The other night when I made you mad with desire for me—"

  "Come inside." Elias snapped, moving back to let the Prince in.

  Elias scowled, even though the smug look the Prince sent him was filled with a fair share of gratefulness as well. Before closing the door, Elias looked into the hall to make sure no one was around to overhear. It was empty.

  Good. Relief filled him as he closed the door and turned back around to face the Prince.

  Who seemed to be intently studying Elias's room.

  It wasn't one of the bigger rooms, as far as castle accommodations went, but as a scholar, he was afforded quite a bit more space than a servant, at least. Almost every bit of said space that wasn't taken up by his large, writing desk, his fireplace, his chair, or his small, single bed, was covered with shelves and shelves of books. A fair number of which were research notes and journals written by Elias himself, all neatly labeled on the spine and sorted by subject and level of completion.

  The Prince ran his finger lightly over several of them. "I have to say, this is almost exactly how I pictured your room."

  Elias was less than pleased the Prince had spent any time thinking about his room, much less that he'd been accurate, but he refused to let himself be distracted.

  "You mentioned an apology."

  The Dark Prince, reluctantly, turned away from the books and back towards Elias. He ran his fingers through his hair, then stopped halfway through, seeming to suddenly realize what he was doing. He quickly pulled his hand away and, after a moment of indecisiveness, let it fall limply to his side.

  "Yes. Well." He cleared his throat and Elias got the feeling he was fighting the urge to look away.

  A small sense of disquiet ran through Elias, upsetting even the vindictive thrill of seeing the Prince so out of sorts. It seemed he didn't take as much pleasure from the Prince's discomfort as he'd thought he would. Perhaps because it reminded him too much of his own loss of control?

  "I may have…overreacted, slightly."

  Elias crossed his arms. "Overreacted?"

  The Dark Prince let out another one of those huffs. "Yes. I miscalculated a situation and I acted…poorly."

  "I hear an admission of guilt, but no apology."

  "This isn't easy for me," the Prince said with a scowl. "It's hard enough to admit that I was wrong, can you at least give me a moment to work up to the apology?"

  Elias thought about it for a moment. "No."

  "Very well," the Prince said stiffly. "Apparently expecting courteous—" He forced his mouth shut before he could finish the sentence, then took a deep breath. It seemed to somewhat calm him. "I apologize," he said. "I never should have used my magic on you. Especially not in the way I did. It was wrong of me."

  To Elias's great surprise, he found the apology, while not nearly as reluctant and forced as he would have expected, also somewhat soothed the anger and discontent he'd been feeling since leaving the Prince's rooms.

  "Yes. It was."

  Although not nearly enough that he was just going to accept it instantly.

  Yet, that just raised another question.

  When did I
decide to accept it at all?

  Instead of demanding Elias accept, however, the Prince barely seemed to hear him.

  "It's just that I've never had an attraction to someone who wasn't also attracted to me. It's not a situation I've ever been in before. You don't—" The Dark Prince gave his head a frustrated shake. "You don't fear me. You don't hold me in awe. You don't even seem to care that I could use my magic on you again right now, since you stupidly invited me into your chamber."

  He looked into Elias's eyes almost imploringly, like he wanted Elias to explain away his confusing behavior. "I don't understand you. And that fascinates me."

  Elias…wasn't quite sure how the admission made him feel, exactly. But he was quite sure the word doom applied in some fashion. He felt oddly compelled to try and explain away the Prince's attraction.

  "It's because you're spoiled," he said. He kept his voice as even as possible so hopefully the Prince would realize Elias didn't mean to offend him. "You're used to getting anything you want, and when you can't, it just makes it that much more attractive to you."

  The Dark Prince smiled wryly. "And once again, you think you know me so well you can make judgments on my thoughts and actions. And once again, I'm not sure you're entirely wrong. Yet that only makes you all the more attractive to me."

  Elias barely held back a sigh. Wonderful. It seemed he needed to make clear that the word doom also applied to the Prince's attraction.

  "But I am not attracted to you, Highness," Elias said, meeting his gaze evenly. "And I never shall be."

  "Oh, believe me, Elias, no one is more aware of that than me."

  The thoughtful, almost calculating look on his face, however, said differently. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared, and Elias wondered if he'd imagined it.

  "Still, my apology stands. I should not have manipulated you like that and I promise that I will never do so again unless you ask for it, if you still wish to help me, that is."

  Elias had opened his mouth to say, in no uncertain terms, he would never be asking to feel that way again, but the last part of the Prince's sentence froze the words on his tongue.