The Dark Prince (The Dark Light Series)

by S. L. Jennings

  Suddenly I am repulsed at myself for being so naïve. This had to be a setup, just a ploy to get under Dorian’s skin. And my gullible ass played right into the king’s plan.

  We stand there for several minutes, gazing at Stavros’s retreating back. Dorian never looks down at me, never utters a word. He still has a tight grip on my arm and I suspect I’ll have a distinct bruise showcasing each fingerprint. Yet, I don’t protest. I deserve much, much worse for being such a complete imbecile and disappointment to Dorian.

  Once Stavros is out of our line of vision, Dorian spins me around and tugs me towards Cashmere, not even bothering to look at me or slow down to alleviate my much shorter legs. Once we enter the boutique, he lets go of my arm and grabs my hand, leading me back to the office without so much as a nod in anyone’s direction. His touch is searing- scorching dry ice. I smile uncomfortably at the array of confused faces. Crap. So much for being discreet.

  Once we are in the small, contained space of my office, Dorian locks the door and whips me around to face him. His face is still venomous and I brace for his wrath.

  Fuck. I’ve really done it this time.

  Instead he crushes his mouth to mine, gripping my backside and pulling my body into his. In a swift movement, he spins our bodies around, pressing me against the wall with a thud. Once I’ve registered what is happening, my hands clutch the hardness of his shoulders, feeling the tense tendons flex as he kneads my back and ass. His kiss is urgent and harsh, his strong tongue conquering my mouth and his teeth deliberately nip my lip. I flinch at the momentary sting and moan in Dorian’s mouth.

  Before I know it, I am in the air, my tan knee high boots dangling at Dorian’s hips. I lock them around his waist. His hands are under my sweaterdress and with a quick pull, my panties are in shreds on the floor. My fingers tug at Dorian’s soft locks and I don’t hold back; I pull hard. He groans his response, refusing to cease his relentless tongue-lashing.

  I am so caught up in the intensity, so consumed by the desperation in his kiss that I don’t even notice that he has unfastened his slacks until I feel the tip of him touch my pinkness. Then with a hard, unforgiving thrust, he is deep inside me and I cry out. He pauses for just a second, relishing in the feel of my tight walls contracting around him. Then he really punishes me. Showing me not an ounce of mercy, Dorian pounds me with fast, brutal strokes. His fingers dig my soft flesh as he holds me up, pushing into me feverishly. I revel in the ache, and it sends me to my glorious end with a cry of pleasurable pain.

  “Fuck!” he grunts through clenched teeth, spilling his fury into me. We crumple to the ground, both deliciously spent, our ragged breaths the only sounds filling the small, humid space. Dorian pulls me into his arms, cradling me tenderly. I take the liberty of nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his cool, fresh scent. Even with the sheen on sweat blanketing his skin, he still smells wonderful. I resist the urge to jut my tongue out and lick the saltiness.

  “I almost tore this town apart today, little girl,” he says quietly.

  “Why?” I murmur against his skin, though I know exactly what riled him.

  “I couldn’t find you. He deflected the perimeter around the two of you. I thought he…” Dorian trails off, unable to finish the heinous thought. His lips are in my hair and I hear him inhale, hoping to quiet his fears. “I got a message from you, asking me to meet you at your apartment. When I arrived and you weren’t there, I waited. After a while, I called your cell but it went straight to voicemail. Then I called the store and Carmen told me that you had left to meet me at the salon per my request. Then I knew.”

  “I’m so sorry, Dorian,” I whisper, my lips moving against his collarbone. “Had I’d known, I would have never gone. But when I got to Luxe, he was…persistent. He somehow froze them, all of them. He said he would kill everyone if I didn’t go with him.”

  “I know,” he mutters. “Morgan said you came in but when she couldn’t remember you leaving or who you left with, I knew. Shit, Gabriella. I was ready to fucking kill him, I was so angry. And you let him touch you. Why?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I was grateful. He said he wanted to protect me. And he told me he relinquished you of your duty. He said my allegiance was my choice, that he wouldn’t punish either one of us. I just wanted to be appreciative, I guess.” Even I’m a bit appalled at my reasoning. “But he never touched my skin. Not once. I wouldn’t let him.”

  He exhales and I feel Dorian release a bit of the tension that is binding him. “Gabriella, I swear… I almost lost it. I guess I am at least relieved that some traditions are still honored,” he mutters shaking his head.

  I raise my head, meeting his beautiful face with my questioning gaze. “Traditions?”

  Dorian’s fingers slide up to my right hand and he turns it gently, rubbing the little blue anchor. “I’ve marked you.”

  “What does that mean? I mean, Donna kinda flipped about it and then Stavros seemed overly interested in it as well. Am I missing something?”

  He brings my tatted hand up to his lips and kisses it before inhaling the scent of my palm. I pull it back, discouraging his attempt to stall. “You are mine, just as I am yours. However, by marking you, I have forbidden all other supernatural forces from trying to acquire you, my father especially. You are mine and mine alone.”

  My jaw nearly drops to the floor. Dorian truly has marked me. He has performed the equivalent of lifting his leg and pissing right on me. And while I am somewhat flattered by his show of commitment, I can’t help but feel angry that he chose not to disclose this information until now. And if it had not been for Stavros’s impromptu visit, he may not have ever let it slip.

  “What the hell, Dorian, how could you keep this from me? How could you make such a permanent decision for me and not even ask me? Again?” I sit upright and turn my body so I am facing him, giving him a full view of my enraged expression. Unbelievable!

  My beautiful, yet currently idiotic, lover looks at me puzzled. “Did you not say you wanted to be with me forever? That you wanted only me?”

  Shit. He’s right. But that’s not the point, so I maintain my severe visage. “Of course! But your trust in me should have been enough! I shouldn’t have to subject myself to yet another ancient, paranormal ritual just so you can stake your claim.” I shake my head and chew my bottom lip. “You know, for someone that will never marry me, you sure have fucked up views of commitment.”

  Dorian lets out an irritated sigh. “Are we back to that, Gabriella? I already told you why I won’t marry you. It is meaningless; just a way to build alliances. A business transaction. I have pledged my devotion to you in the most profound way possible for my kind. Weddings are trivial, ostentatious parties highlighting overindulgence and pageantry. They are ridiculous human nuisances.”

  “And how would you know that? You aren’t even human!” I feel hurt, angry tears spring in my eyes, and I quickly blink them away.

  “And neither are you!” he shouts, his voice nearly vibrating the room.

  I stare at him blankly, unable to move, speak or even blink. I am not human. I’m still trying to fit into this world, still trying to keep up the charade of my normal life. I still want to belong, be liked, fall in love, have a family. I still want my happily ever after. And that just isn’t possible for me. I told myself that it would be alright, that Dorian would be enough for me to leave my hopes and aspirations behind. But all the while I had been trying to be enough for him, I never truly considered if he, and all that his presence represents, would be enough for me.

  I stand on shaky legs and Dorian quickly flies to his feet to aid me. I gather my torn panties and stuff them in my purse then busy myself in fixing my hair and makeup in my compact mirror. Anything to keep from facing the torment of my reality.

  “Gabriella,” Dorian breathes. I remain silent, too hurt and confused to acknowledge him. “I would give you everything your heart desires if I could. I would marry you. I would have children with you. I would do any
thing you wanted me to. But that life is just not possible for either one of us. You have to stop believing that there is a place for us in this world. It will only bring you heartache. This isn’t where we belong.”

  I slam down the tube of mascara I am holding and it shakes the steel desk. “Ok, Dorian, I get it! I’ll never fit in. I’ll never have a normal life. Come on, I haven’t for the last twenty years, why start now?”

  I shake my head apologetically at my foolishness. “You know, I used to think that I wanted to be extraordinary. That I wanted something more than the whole cookie cutter American dream. I wanted to be special. And now that I am, so much so that there is a killer after me, I just want to press rewind and enjoy my old, boring life. Take extra time to appreciate Chris and Donna, and all my friends.”

  I feel Dorian’s strong hands on my shoulders and he lightly kneads away the tension. Those magic fingers. “You still have time, little girl. Don’t give up just yet.”

  I reach my hand up to touch his fingers with mine, spinning around in the swivel chair to face him. “Thank you. I know you’re trying to help, trying to make the transition easier for me.” I give him pensive smile. “What will happen afterwards? Once I ascend? I’ll have to leave, huh?”

  Dorian strokes the line of my jaw with the back of his hand, igniting tiny tingles throughout my entire body. “Not right away. Most likely you’ll be summoned to either Rome or Greece, depending on what side you choose. Ordinarily, they would appoint your…job, per say, based on the skill set you were birthed with. Then you are assigned a region. However, with your unique circumstances, I can’t be certain what would happen. I’d imagine that you could ultimately write your own destiny.”

  I nod. “I don’t want much to change. I want to stay here. I wanna come to work every day. I wanna go out with my friends. I wanna have Sunday dinner with Chris and Donna every week.” I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his white dress shirt. “And I want you here. I don’t want you to leave.”

  Dorian squeezes me tight, resting his chin on the top of my head before kissing my hair. “I know, little girl. I want to stay with you too.”

  My head snaps up with alarm. “So you have to go? Wait, I thought you were assigned here?”

  Dorian gives me an apologetic half-smile. “I’m royalty, baby. I’m only here to oversee your ascension. Then I go back to Greece. Back home.”

  Before I can protest, Dorian’s face transforms to one of pure disgust and hatred. He closes his eyes and stands upright, his body vibrating with anger. When they reopen, they flash white hot, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I question with alarm.

  “Stavros. Shit! I have to go.” Dorian stiffly kisses my forehead then brings my hand to his face, where he gently brushes my knuckles against his lips, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he takes a step backwards and dissipates before my eyes, only leaving behind plumes of grey.

  I stand in my tiny office, speechless and disheveled. What the hell just happened here? First the Dark King tricks me into meeting with him resulting in Dorian’s erratic, yet pleasurable, reaction, then he just disappears?

  “Fucking Warlocks,” I mutter under my breath before heading back out to the sales floor to finish my shift.

  When I arrive home that evening, I receive two text messages, one from Dorian and the other from Jared, the two most important men in my life. Oh, the irony. I open Dorian’s first, hoping for some type of explanation for his sudden departure. Unfortunately, I come up disappointed.

  From Dorian, 9:36 P.M.

  -I must go to Greece immediately. I should be back by the end of the week but I will try to email you to confirm. I love you, little girl. In life and in death.

  What the hell? No! Something serious must be going down for him to run off so quickly. At least there better be. Before I follow through with my plan to throw my phone against my bedroom wall out of sheer annoyance, I open the second text message.

  From Jared, 9:40 P.M.

  -Hey Gabs, think you can meet up with me sometime this week? I have something I really wanna talk to you about and I need to say it face to face. Cool? Can’t wait to see you.

  Well, that’s interesting. What is it with the men in my life being so cryptic lately? I take a deep breath and hit reply, shaking my head.

  To Jared, 9:41 P.M.

  -Sure, just let me know what time, k?

  To Dorian, 9:42 P.M.

  -I love you too, though I wish you weren’t leaving. What’s going on? Please email me as soon as you can. And be safe. Come home soon.

  After getting ready for bed, I stay awake for as long as my heavy eyelids can stand, hoping for the reply text from Dorian that never arrives.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “That’s all you’re eating?” Jared asks with raised brows.

  I look down at my lightly dressed chopped salad. “Just not really hungry, I guess,” I shrug.

  “Don’t tell me you’re trying to lose weight. You already have a smokin’ bod. Does Dorian like his women boney or somethin’?” Jared asks, letting his eyes fall over the length of my body draped in tight jeans and form-fitting sweater, revealing more cleavage than usual.

  “No,” I reply shaking my head. “I just haven’t had much of an appetite.” It’s true. Whenever Dorian is called away to Greece, which happens a lot more frequently than I’d like, I can hardly function, let alone eat. I know it’s downright pathetic to be so dependent on him but it’s the truth. Thank God it’s finally Friday and he is expected to get back some time tonight. I need him like I need air; I’ve been suffocating without him.

  Jared shrugs. “Well, anyway. I’m glad you could come tonight. Seems like we never get to hang out like we used to. So what’s up? What’s new?” He takes a big slug of his soda, regarding me with questioning green eyes. “Holy shit, Gabs! When did you get another tattoo?”

  I look down at my right hand, at the little blue anchor that now occupies the space under my thumb. “Oh, that. Yeah. Just a little something I got a while ago. Has it really been that long since we hung out?”

  “I guess so,” he replies with another shrug. And it has been. The man that sits before me hardly resembles my best guy friend. His auburn locks are styled much like the young heartthrobs featured on magazines and in music videos and his wardrobe has gotten a major style upgrade. Jared has always been a looker but in his designer jeans, fitted tee and leather Moto jacket, he looks more GQ than soccer jock. And as much as it pains me to admit, Aurora has good taste. Jared is looking hotter than ever.

  “How’s life at UCCS treating you these days?” I ask, hoping to distract my mind from the obvious weirdness lingering between us.

  “Great. I really like it there. Everyone is really cool. Obviously I’ve been busy as hell with soccer but it’s been awesome.” He bites into his massive bacon burger, chewing slowly before grabbing his soda to wash it down. “And the store? How’s it going?”

  “Good. Sales are better than ever now that I’ve incorporated some different styles and local designers. And Carmen is doing great. She’s a huge help.”

  For the next hour, Jared and I try to make idle chitchat to fill the uncomfortable distance between us. I just want to press pause and rewind to a time when things were seamless and easy. We were once so close, kindred spirits even. We could talk for hours about absolutely nothing and when we’d run out of things to say, we could be comfortably silent. As long as we were together, everything made sense. But as I stab my salad at our once favorite restaurant, I realize that I’ve lost my best friend. Jared Johnson is a stranger to me.

  “Well, I guess I better get to why I asked you to come meet me tonight,” Jared says after our empty plates and glasses have been cleared. He pulls a navy blue velvet ring box out of his pocket and sets it on the table in front of me. I look up at him with shocked, unblinking eyes.

  “Jared…is that what I think it is?” Holy shit! Is Jared about to propose? My hear
t is beating out of my chest, and I’m not sure if it’s from excitement or immense fear. Maybe a mixture of both.

  “It is.” He reaches over and opens the tiny box, revealing a glimmering princess cut diamond fixed on a white gold band. “Dealing with what happened with my mom and realizing that our loved ones can be taken from us at any moment, I decided to stop delaying the inevitable. I know what’s important to me now, Gabs. And I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid to take that step.”

  I try to swallow, but my mouth is suddenly bone dry. I reach over and grasp my iced tea with a shaky hand, downing it in seconds. “What are you saying?” I whisper as soon as I’ve regained my voice.

  “I’m saying that I’m ready. I’m ready to take a leap of faith and start my life with the woman that I love.” Jared smiles at me brightly, his emerald eyes gleaming brightly with adoration.

  This is it; he’s going to say those words. I hold my breath in anticipation.

  “I’m going to ask Aurora to marry me.”

  What. The. Fuck? “Jared, what are you talking about?” I sputter. “Are you crazy?” Aurora? He wants to marry Aurora? Hell no!

  “No, I’m not. For once in my life, I’m completely certain about this. Gabs, you should know better than anybody how difficult it was to almost lose my mom again. I’m tired of playing it safe. I want to make Aurora my wife.” Jared snaps the top of the ring box down and slides it back towards him.

  “That’s ridiculous, Jared! You can’t marry Aurora!”

  Jared recoils as if I’ve just slapped him across the face. “Why not? We’re in love. She gets along with my family. I want to be with her. What’s the problem, Gabs?”

  What is the problem? Is it the fact that Aurora is a sex-crazed Dark One that thrives on the depraved desires of others? The fact that her relationship with Jared was manufactured so she could get close to me? Or that she is admittedly still in love with Dorian and always will be? Or could it be that Jared was the guy I once thought I was truly in love with and hoped to spend my life with? But without even voicing my endless questions aloud, I know that the answer is a combination of all my concerns. Not only is Aurora merely preying off of Jared’s undeniable sexual magnetism, she is only sticking around to appease Dorian. The man that we both love. The man that I am certain we would both kill and die for. Love that runs so deep it frightens me.