by A. M. Hudson
“What did you decide?”
“That, instead of the dagger being provided upon conception of an heir, it would be offered on condition he stay a few more days—give you a small sample of the life you deserved to have with him.”
I rested a hand on his forearm, sitting up a little. “Arthur, promise me you won't give him that dagger.”
“I will give it to him—but not the real dagger,” he added quickly when I gasped. “He will leave for Elysium next week under guise of freeing prisoners, and when he gets to Paris, where he’s really going, he will not be able to find Drake.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because the letter the House received, informing that Drake had fled to Paris, was a copy.”
“How do you know?”
“Because the original was sent to me. He wrote me as a friend, announcing his decision to travel around Romania for a month, giving me more time to ‘impregnate’ you.” He held his hands up, smiling. “His words; not mine. Anyway, I forged the letter the House received, and they sent knights to Elysium to confirm Drake was gone.”
“So, David will come back here then—after Paris?”
Arthur nodded. “And by then, you will be pregnant with my heir, and I will name myself king, swear my oath and be in Romania before David even sets foot back on American soil.”
I nodded. “What if I don't fall pregnant, though?”
“Then I will destroy that dagger, because, my dear, David won't rest until he finds it, and I don't believe there is any other way to kill Drake.”
“Not even venom—if we starve him first, break down his immunity?”
He laughed. “No. In the letter Drake sent, he was bragging about a spell he’d successfully used to save his own life after being stabbed with that sword. He said the side-effect was total immunity.”
“You’re kidding?”
He shook his head. “I’d like to get my hands on that spell—or even the witch he uses to write them.”
“He has a witch?”
“She’s a vampire—an old, old woman. I’ve never met her, or even seen her, but he calls her Safia.”
“Safia?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t believe he has his own witch.”
Arthur smiled softly, one corner of his lip pulling, his eyes distant.
“Good afternoon, Uncle,” David said as he glided into the room.
“David, my boy, all ready for the big event?”
I looked up at him where he stopped by the chair. “Just have to dress, but—can I borrow my lovely wife for a moment?”
“Of course.” Arthur shuffled aside a little more, motioning for David to take me.
“Thanks.” He scooped me up in his arms like a child. “I’ll bring her back in ten, if you still need her.”
“It’s fine.” He smiled warmly, resting his knuckles by his lips. “You can keep her.”
David bowed and walked us out into the open corridor.
“Where are you taking me?”
“I want you to help me get my ceremonial dress on.”
“We have staff for that.”
“I know.” He smiled into my brow. “But I want as much time with you as I can get.”
“Before what?”
“Before…nothing.” He kissed the tip of my nose, nodding at Jason, who flashed his obviously well-practiced fake smile as we passed. “I just want to spend time with you. That’s all right, isn't it?”
I snuggled into him, swinging my arm over his neck, holding on tight. “As long as it’s forever.”
“Forever is all we ever wanted.”
“Say you promise,” I said, pressing my nose right to his.
He stopped walking. “Promise what?”
“Say you promise forever.”
His shoulders became straighter, his breath quiet. “I…I promise.”
“Promise what?” I grinned.
His smiling eyes went a little wider. “I promise not to drop you.”
I squealed as he let go of me, catching me just before I hit the ground. “You butt-wipe.” I slapped his chest.
He laughed, standing up again, holding me just a little tighter this time. “I love you, Ara.”
“I love you, too.”
What should have been the happiest breath I took, came in as more of a sigh—the joy spoiled by the deep, hidden pain in David's eyes. I offered a smile, but he couldn't rise above the sadness enough to return one. It was the first real sign he’d given of the things he was suffering inside.
He’d been fine as we dressed together, laughing about things we’d not laughed about since I was human, and while I stood in front of him, naked, he’d dropped to his knees and pressed his cool lips to the rash on my hip, moving sweetly soft kisses up to my ribs and over the Mark of my promise—the same line he might have soon. But as the day wore on and the sun began to sink in the sky, he grew quiet and thoughtful.
I stepped back, pinching the open vein in my arm, and David reached down to take my hand as we spoke the words of our vow, feeling the light of Mother Nature fill our souls with warmth. I didn't remember feeling this when I took my oath, but it felt like the way Mike described it; as if someone injected hot coffee down the artery in your neck and let it pass through every limb, stopping in your heart like a happy feeling.
The darkness in David’s eyes faded a little then, as he spoke the last words of his promise; “To give my life in service of my people and my queen.”
Across from us, Emily and Morg hugged Mike’s chest, while Blade and Falcon watched on like proud uncles, and Arthur stood almost centre to it all—my foundation—the strong knight that would save the world, save my people—save my husband.
David's fingers tightened ever so slightly on mine, and I felt the heat charge his skin, the Mark of his promise coming to life somewhere underneath. He felt it, too—felt the burn, felt the power, but showed no distress, no emotion, like a good king.
Then, as if by some secret cue, our people moved—parted to make way for us. We bowed to the Stone and started off between Bert and Boris, hand in hand. We weren’t allowed to speak until the crown touched David's head, but we didn't need to. I knew he was smiling at me because he thought I looked beautiful in my white ball gown, with my hair falling down in curls under my crown. And he knew I was smiling at him because I was so proud to be beside him; so proud of everything he’d become—everything he’d sacrificed to make this day possible.
I lifted his hand and kissed his palm, tasting the blood of his promise on my lips, thinking, I love you.
He reached out then and smoothed the blood away, leaning across to kiss the remains. “Love you, too,” he whispered so quietly, his lips shaping his breath as words no one else would hear.
I looked up in surprise. Did you hear me?
And he just smiled—his secret smile growing into a radiant grin. My heart fluttered the whole way then as we walked the path of red and white roses at our feet, past the people and the marble columns, down the crimson carpet and took the stairs to the thrones.
Just before we reached the top, David quickly bent down and grabbed something, then stood back up again, smiling at his closed fist.
I stared at him quizzically.
To new beginnings, his voice came through my thoughts like real words, and he opened his hand, revealing a small red rosebud before pressing it between our palms, linking his fingers through mine.
And I knew what he meant; everything we were, everything we had grown to be had started on ground so shaky, and somehow, we’d survived. Somehow, the blossom of love we had between us had never died.
Ever since I first felt death in my life, all I wanted was to find my place in the world, and when I found it with this man, he was taken away from me so many times—our forever always a question—always only a hope we had for the future. But as we stood atop the step, two thrones behind us, hand in hand, eternity was no longer a hope, but a promise I would fight to keep.
<
br /> I squeezed his hand and smiled up at him, feeling the cool flower between us; in this moment, anything was possible. Anything was acceptable. Our future might have looked grim to him as he faked the smile his people saw when the crown touched his head, but I knew in my heart that this little bud of life in my hand was the symbol of true new beginnings—a beginning together. I would be the saviour now. I would never let anything tear us apart, ever again.
He came into my life as just a boy who fought to be my knight, and turned out, in the end, to be a king. And I would not lose him. We once promised each other forever—nothing do us part—not even death. And from this moment on, I would keep that promise, even if it meant I had to betray him.
The Dark Secrets series continues in 2013…
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A. M. Hudson loves her life in Australia and, despite wishing it would snow at Christmas, couldn't imagine living anywhere else in the world.
She fell in love with her husband at just sixteen and has since added three boys to the mix.
A. M. prides herself on writing the shocking, the depthy and the highly-emotional subjects other writers steer away from. She addresses the uncomfortable with conviction and enjoys taking stories down dark paths.
Some of her heroes are Stephen King, Walt Disney, Hamish and Andy, Muse and 30 Seconds to Mars, and with influences like these, one can only imagine what stories will unfold.
When she's not writing, A. M. reads books, watches movies and chats with fans on Facebook.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty