My mind wanders to the photo that is now housed in the drawer of my nightstand. Chris, Donna, Natalia, Alexander and Dorian. They were not unlike us, just five friends that wanted to enjoy every minute together. They only wanted love, acceptance and understanding. They only wanted to live. And they deserved to, no matter what world they were birthed into. They didn’t get the choice that I was given. All of the trivial worries that plagued me months ago seem so ridiculous now. The five of them fought to live. To love. Privileges we take for granted. I want to honor their memory. I want to prove to my parents, both human and otherworldly, that I can do this. I can and will live up to my destiny.
“Hey Gabs, get over here! You’ll miss the show!” Jared calls to me, breaking me from my reverie.
I smile at him brightly. “Well, line ‘em up, because I’ve got some catching up to do.”
After Morgan belts out her tipsy rendition of Madonna’s “Like a Virgin,” we all take turns wearing the giant sombrero and singing our favorite songs. We even do a few duets, complete with ridiculously dramatic dance moves. I laugh until my stomach hurts and tears sprout in the corners of my eyes. I’ve missed this. As much as I love being with Dorian, there’s nothing like an outrageously fun night with your best friends.
I’m not sure when we all pass out for the night but somehow I make it to my own bed. Sleep comes easy with the help of one too many libations and I quickly fall into a vivid, colorful dream.
I’m on a white-sand beach, the bright sun bathing my body with warmth. There isn’t a cloud in the sky and the ocean waters are so clear you can see straight to the bottom. An array of vibrant multicolored fish and coral inhabit the crystal blue waters, and I gasp in awe.
In the distance I see lush green hills. Atop of them sit hundreds of little houses, all sandstone white with rust colored roofs. Very European. I look to the other side of me and find magnificent stone structures. Nature’s statues. Everything is perfect, and I am content, even alone.
I look down at myself and am amazed at the beautiful white bikini I’m wearing. It makes me feel so sexy, so uninhibited. I lay down right onto the bare ground and the warm sands welcome me. There’s a nice breeze, just enough to cool me from the sun’s rays. I spread my arms and soak it all up, completely relaxed and contented. This must be heaven.
Suddenly a dark figure stands before me, gazing down at me, blocking the sunlight from reaching me. My eyes adjust to the unexpected shade. I look to see who my mystery visitor could be and gasp at the discovery.
It’s him.
The strikingly handsome man from the market dressed in the navy blue suit. He looks down at me, giving me the same seductive smirk from earlier, admiring my body in the scanty bikini. His eyes dance with delight at the sight of me, and it makes me feel…sexy, desirable.
I don’t try to cover myself. I let him marvel at my curves. I even make a show of it, slowly letting my hands caress my thighs, my bare stomach, the tops of my breasts. I lick my lips for him and my eyes narrow as I look up at his approving grin. I continue to gently fondle myself, hoping that he will find pleasure in my erotic display. I want to impress him. I want to show him that even though I may be young, I can please him. I want him to touch my body. I want to feel his skin on mine. But he makes no move to appease me. His restraint is maddening and only intensifies my hunger for him.
Letting my fingers slip beneath the bikini bottoms, I find my scorching hot sex. I stroke it once and brace for his reaction.
Nothing.
I do it again, hoping to rouse him, yet he remains still, quietly observing. I continue to touch and tease myself in an attempt to show him how confident and alluring I can be. My eyes stay on his as I imagine that it is his hand that pleases me. I want him. And I want him to want me.
“I can make you feel this sexy, this free every single day,” he says suddenly, his voice seductively smooth. Just the sound of it causes me to quiver uncontrollably until I can’t hold it anymore. I want to give him every ounce of my pleasure. I want him to feel the overwhelming throb that consumes me. And I explode, dripping sweet sap around my own fingers.
I jerk awake and sit up in my bed, breathing heavily, the heat between my legs pulsing wildly. I feel the dampness on my panties. Holy shit! What the hell was that? Did I just…? No, I couldn’t have. But the proof is right here, saturated into white lace. Suddenly, the brightness of my bedside lamps flicker on and I nearly scream with fright, shielding my eyes from the intensity.
“Have a nice dream?” a deep voice murmurs solemnly.
Dorian.
He’s across the room, sitting on the chaise lounge. He has on a dark charcoal grey suit, crisp white shirt, no tie with the top few buttons undone.
“Dorian,” I breathe. I want to tell him to come to me but I need to get to the bathroom. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” I race to my private restroom and discard my panties in the hamper. I also take the liberty to gargle to get the icky remnants of tequila out of my mouth. After I have freshened up, I walk back out, sans panties.
Dorian is sitting on my bed, still looking somber. “Is that all you wore to bed?” he asks after I’ve settled back under the covers.
I look down at my short cotton nightgown. “Pajamas?”
Dorian sighs, obviously annoyed. “Pretty inappropriate considering there are three other men sleeping only feet away from you.”
I shrug. “Well, they’re all out in the living room, right?” It’s really no big deal. I’d much rather them crash here than drink and drive. And it’s not like we’ve never passed out after a night of partying before.
“The brothers are,” he replies. Oh. Miguel must’ve found his way to Morgan’s room.
“Well, they are out cold. They had a lot to drink; we all did. It was good for them to get out of that hospital and let loose a bit.”
“Yes. Their mother,” he nods, looking towards my window, out into the night. “She will be fine. They should be able to see her later this morning.”
Huh? “What are you talking about, Dorian.” I let my hand reach out and pull his chin towards me. His eyes are bright and dazzling yet he looks so…distraught.
“She will be…fixed. The petrification will be reversed.”
My eyes grow wide with glee. “Oh my God, Dorian!” I exclaim, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing tightly. “You did it? You found a way?”
Dorian shakes his head sadly. This is the best news we’ve had in weeks and he’s upset? “Aurora? Did she find something?” I ask. Again Dorian shakes his head, breaking away from my embrace. I frown. “Then how, Dorian? Why don’t you seem happy? Who could have reversed it?”
Dorian remains silent for several seconds before turning his head to look at me with cold, desolate eyes. Something about his gaze is disturbing, as if he is dead inside. Every bit of life and love appears to have been drained right out of him.
“My father.”
My eyes widen in horror and a scream catches in my throat, causing me to choke on a gasp of air. “Your father? What?” I rasp in disbelief. I must still be drunk. There’s no way I could have heard him correctly.
“You never answered my question,” Dorian murmurs.
I huff with frustration. “What? What question, Dorian?”
“Did you have a nice dream?”
Sheer horror washes over my face at the remembrance of our link. He can feel what I feel. Shit. So he knows I was aroused. Hell, I was more than aroused. I freaking came in my sleep.
“Yeah…um. It’s just been a few days since we were together. And I wanted you so bad. That hasn’t happened to me in a while, I swear.”
“I don’t care about you having a wet dream, Gabriella,” he says exasperated. “That shit means nothing to me. I’m more concerned about who you were dreaming about.”
I am utterly shocked. He knows I was dreaming about somebody else? No! Crap. How do I explain this one?
“I’m sorry, Dorian. I can’t choose who I dream about. It’s not
like I did that purposely. I don’t even know who that was!”
Dorian nods and chews his bottom lip as if he’s concentrating. “I do.”
“What? Hold up, what’s going on? What do you mean?”
Dorian turns his head and lets his ice blue eyes meld into mine. “My father, Gabriella.” With a tentative hand, he brushes my cheek and his face cringes in pain. “That was my father.”
Suddenly the air becomes so thick I can’t breathe. My head is swimming, my insides sloshing around like a whirlpool. “Oh my God, Dorian. Oh my…I’m so sorry. Oh shit,” I stammer.
He strokes my hair, caressing me lovingly. “It’s ok, little girl. It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.”
My eyes dart around wildly and I am breathless. I feel flush, clammy. I struggle to swallow down the bile rising in my throat. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Oh shit, I think I’m going to be sick.”
I turn to try to make it to the toilet but Dorian stops me before I make it off the bed, placing his hand over my stomach. His hands ignite fiery blue momentarily then the intense wave of nausea ceases, and I strangely feel completely coherent.
Holy shit! Could this night get any more bizarre? Hell, am I still freakin’ dreaming?
But I can’t dwell on Dorian’s amazing ability to cure me of the consequences of excessive amounts of tequila. His father is here. And he knows who I am.
“How? Why did he come here? How did he know about Tammy?” I am just so confused, the questions just keep pouring out.
Dorian’s expression darkens to one of violent contempt. “Fucking Aurora. I told her not to involve him. I told her I would find a way. Her affections for that boy…” He shakes his head angrily. “She deceived me. She will pay for her misdeeds.”
“But Dorian, she did it for Jared. Maybe she really does care for him and got scared? He came to fix Tammy. He came to help. Why?”
It would make more sense if I already didn’t know that he was a murderous tyrant. And to think I was dreaming about him? Desiring him? Even in the market earlier, I was drawn to him. I don’t get it. Why? How could I be so...attracted to someone like him?
“I don’t know. Get under my skin. Insult me. Provoke me. See you. Take your pick,” he shrugs. He assesses the confusion and fear etched in my face and eases me back down onto the bed, laying next to me. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I won’t let him hurt you. You are safe, little girl.”
I nuzzle into Dorian’s arms, letting my head rest on his firm chest. “How did he know who I was?”
“He knew when I knew, baby,” he coos. Right. His curse, his inability to lie.
“But he looks so…young. Too young to be your father at least.” Yeah, he’s got a few extra years on me, but he and Dorian look more like brothers than father and son.
“One of the benefits of killing for your own personal gain,” he remarks.
“Is he going to kill me?” I whisper meekly.
“No. He won’t get his hands dirty. Not with something so…high profile. No one wants to be known as the one who slaughters the Dark Light, the savior of the Light Enchanters,” he says sardonically.
I lift my head to look at him with question in my eyes. “Huh? Is that what I’m known as?”
Dorian shrugs. “It was just always assumed that that’s the way you would go.”
“So you thought I’d align with the Light?” Again, Dorian shrugs, looking impassive. “Dorian, if you thought that, then you knew you’d have to kill me.”
Dorian shakes his head sternly. “No. I would not have done it. I can’t.”
“But if you didn’t, then they’d kill you! All this time, you were prepared for them to murder you? Were you even going to tell me?” I can’t believe it. Dorian felt he was playing a losing game yet he continued to act as if everything would be fine. He made me believe that we could potentially survive this together.
Dorian looks at me, refusing to answer my questions, and I know my suspicions are true. He was willing to die for me. I knew that we would face adversity, and with the annoying messages from the Dark, I figured I could fool them somehow, make them believe I’d side with them. I never imagined that Dorian’s death was already in the works.
I bring my head back down to his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat soothe my troubled mind. “What did he do to me? Why did he make me…feel that way?” I whisper after a few silent minutes.
“He got inside your head. He planted the seed; played to your desires, your aspirations. Your insecurities. Made you want him.”
“But I don’t!” I state fervently. At least I think I don’t. Even before the dream, in the supermarket, I was intrigued by him. God, I’m so confused!
“It’s okay. Seriously. He is very charming. Women are instantly beguiled by him. He is the epitome of sophistication and class,” he says thoughtfully. Dorian’s face then transforms into something terrifyingly vile and imperiling. “I fucking hate him.”
“You don’t mean that, Dorian. He’s your dad. And to be honest, you are not unlike him.” I instantly feel Dorian stiffen and I know I’ve struck a nerve. “Other than the evil, coldhearted dictator part, of course. You are extremely charming and gorgeous and fascinating, Dorian. I wanted you the moment I saw you. And you still take my breath away every single time I’m with you.”
Sheesh. I am definitely still drunk. I am way too loose with the lips.
I feel Dorian shift as if he’s shaking his head. “But his power…he has abilities that I don’t possess. He likes it that way. He keeps us all beneath him so there is never a chance that anyone would ever challenge him. And those who have been stupid enough to try have never lived to tell about it. He gets whatever he wants, no matter the cost, no matter who he destroys in the process. Women love him; men fear him.”
“But I don’t love him, Dorian. I don’t even like him.”
Dorian lets his hands dance in my hair, massaging my scalp gently. “But you want him,” he states somberly.
“What? Hell no! Absolutely not!” How can he even say that? I only want Dorian, and I always will. For me to desire his dad is just downright…gross.
“You do,” he states simply. “He couldn’t have planted the dream if you didn’t. Even if you opened yourself to him for just a second, that is all he needs. Then he has access to the deepest depths of your subconscious.”
If there was ever a time where I wanted to press rewind, it’s now. I would have never stopped at the market. I would have gone straight home and told Morgan that they were out of damn taco shells. How can Dorian be so calm about this? Doesn’t this wound him? Knowing that even for a fraction of a millisecond that I allegedly lusted for his dad?
“I’m so sorry, Dorian. I have missed you so much. I swear I have no interest in your father.”
I stretch my neck to look up at my lover, only to find him smiling down at me adoringly. “I know, little girl.” Again he strokes my hair and I go back to listening to his heartbeat. “Did he speak to you?” he asks after a while.
“Huh?” I reply sleepily. Anytime Dorian plays with my hair, I am instantly relaxed to the point of unconsciousness.
“In the dream. Did he speak to you?”
Oh. “Um, yeah. But only like one sentence.” And it was one helluva sentence.
“What did he say?”
I take a deep breath and try to recall what Dorian’s father, the Dark King, said to me verbatim. “He said ‘I can make you feel this sexy, this free every single day.’ What the hell does that even mean?” I say with a nervous, strained chuckle.
Dorian doesn’t return my humor. “I see,” he responds flatly. “It means that he knows that you feel trapped, confined and uncomfortable with yourself. And he can…he can make you feel free and sexy. It means he’ll give you what you want.”
“But all I want is you!” I exclaim whipping my head around so he can see the conviction in my eyes.
Dorian gives me a wistful half-smile. “I know you think you do, littl
e girl.”
He eases my head back down onto his chest and commences to play in my hair. I snuggle into him, letting my own hand stroke his abdomen. Even through his dress shirt, I can feel the hard, taut ripples.
Dorian nuzzles in closer to me and I feel his lips in my hair. “But the king always gets what he wants. And what he wants is you.”
Chapter Ten
“I am just overjoyed that the boys have their mom back. I know they are beyond relieved,” Donna says pulling the roast out of the oven. It smells delicious, and my mouth instantly begins to salivate as the aroma wafts throughout the kitchen. I set three table settings for our traditional family dinner.
“They are. When they found out yesterday, I was afraid they’d kill themselves trying to race to the hospital!” I don’t have the heart to tell her that I had learned of Tammy’s miraculous recovery in the wee hours of the morning before. Or the Dark King’s impromptu visit to our unsuspecting town of Colorado Springs.
“Well, Tammy looks like she’ll be fine. She doesn’t even remember the attack. It’s as if nothing happened at all,” my mom remarks, setting the meat, potatoes and vegetables onto a serving platter. She looks at me skeptically. “So Dorian found a way?”
I shrug, returning my attention to folding the napkins into neat triangles to avoid eye contact. “I guess so.”
“Here, this should do,” Chris interjects as he enters the kitchen. He holds up a bottle of red wine that he’s retrieved from the wine rack in his study. Things are still strained between us though we are both making an effort to rekindle our relationship.
“Looks good, dear,” my mom remarks. “Ok, dinner is served.”
We all sit at the kitchen table, ready to dig into the sumptuous meal that Donna has prepared for us. It’s nice to enjoy a normal family dinner together. I’ve made it a point to at least be here on Sundays, especially since Dorian insisted that Cashmere close early on the conventional holy day so I can spend as much time with my parents as possible. I think he knows how much more difficult it will be to maintain my once carefree, human life after my ascension. He knows Donna and Chris; he likes them. They may have all even been friends at one time. He knows losing me will break their hearts and sympathizes with them. He values my human relationships, causing me to appreciate my family and friends just a little more while I still can.
The Dark Prince (The Dark Light Series) Page 12