Caressed by a Crimson Moon (Rulers of Darkness)

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Caressed by a Crimson Moon (Rulers of Darkness) Page 22

by Amanda J. Greene


  “You have devised a very nice plan,” she said, her words cold, her tone flat. “Would you allow me to stay here until I came up with my own plan?’”

  “I will not force you to vacate.”

  She nodded slowly. Silence stretched between them. Mr. Bakin came and went, offering a new bottle of wine. Hadrian declined and the butler swiftly disappeared.

  “Eva,” he sighed, leaning towards her. “This is a lot of information and a lot of changes all at once. I will not pressure you to make a decision.” His fingers twitched to touch her. He wanted to cup her face and capture her lips with his. The memory of her taste, the soft gentle glide of her tongue against his, the feel of her breath in his lungs, was maddening.

  “I appreciate that,” she replied, pushing her seat away from the table. “Excuse me.”

  Hadrian reached for her, impulse driving him. He caught her hand and pulled her back. “Wait. Eva, I need to know…Last night—”

  “I have no regrets,” she said, tilting her chin up, “You don’t have to worry, Hadrian. I know that you never intended to sleep with me and that it just happened. I’m glad that it did. In hindsight, it may have been a mistake, but it was a mistake worth making.”

  “Eva, I wish things were different, that I was…different.”

  “I’m not expecting anything from you.”

  He winced. He wanted more, but it was impossible.

  “Just so that we are clear, tell me, why can’t I expect anything from you. Or, I should say, from us? And don’t give me the same excuses. I’m no longer mortal. I may not heal instantaneously like you, but I will mend quickly enough. You will not have to worry about being too rough. I’m also no longer your ward.”

  Hadrian froze. The truth. He had to tell her the truth. He was a beast, a murderer. He had killed the only person he had ever truly loved in cold blood. The act unleashed the demon. It swept through him, taking hold of his very bones and poisoned his soul. Twisting him, breaking him, leaving him hollow. He had been lost for centuries, unable to discern the vampire’s memories from his own. They bled together until reality no longer existed. Only now was he beginning to climb out of the madness. His mind was mending, the mental barrier between him and the demon grew stronger every day, but he still could not be trusted. If he hurt her, if he even inflicted the slightest scratch, he would never be able to forgive himself.

  It was better that she leaves. If she stayed, it would only be harder to let go.

  His soul wept as he hardened his heart. I must do what is best for her. And he was not it.

  “I could not bear to see you hurt,” he began. “I am a monster, Eva.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “If you knew what I have done, you would think differently.”

  “Then tell me.”

  Dark shadows fell over his face. “You need to forget about me, Eva. I am no good for you. All I can give you is pain.”

  Eva wanted to cry, her roiling emotions were becoming too much. Her frustration simmered as sorrow pumped in her veins. She wished Hadrian could see himself through her eyes. Just once. There was darkness within him, menacing and terrifying, but there was light within him too. He was fighting so hard to protect her. Deep down, Eva knew the truth. He was protecting himself. He wore his madness like a shield.

  If he would just talk to her, open up and share the secrets that ate at his soul, he would heal. He would finally be able to let go of the self-loathing that dulled his brilliant obsidian eyes and shake free the guilt that looped about his neck like a noose.

  “What happened last night cannot happen again. Please, understand that it isn’t you—”

  Something within her snapped. The anger that she held bottled inside exploded.

  “Stop,” she growled, yanking her hand from his grasp. “Don’t you dare feed me that cliché.”

  “You are angry.”

  Eva tossed her napkin on the table. “You’re damn right, I’m angry.”

  Mr. Bakin had to enter at that exact moment. The man kept his head down, his eyes focused on the warmed dinner rolls he carried. After setting them on the table he fled back to the safety of the kitchen.

  “I’m tired of people making plans for my life. For the past nine years I’ve had my life run by a dictator. I want you to know, I will leave when I decide to leave.” Eva came to her feet. “And I know it isn’t me. It is you. You’re damaged, right? You lost your rocks when your brother died. I’m sure there is more to your story, something dark and twisted. Some secret that you keep buried in your soul, a secret so damning it is destroying you from the inside out. Maybe you have survivors’ guilt or maybe he was the only thing you had that made life worth living. I don’t know and I’m willing to bet no one knows because you share nothing. You even lock Falcon out of your heart. The knight loves you like a brother.”

  “Eva, that is enough. You speak of things you do not understand.”

  “I could,” she countered. She smoothed her dress and noticed her hands were shaking. Her emotions swept through her, a violent unstoppable maelstrom.

  “You are not the only one who has ever suffered, Hadrian. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t breath when my mother passed. And just days after we laid her to rest I was taken. I was seventeen. My entire world, my life, was ripped from me and I was thrust into hell. People who hated me, who treated me as if I were an abomination, an affront to God, were now my caregivers. I know loneliness. I know what it is like to have nothing and no one. Nine years. I lost nine years of my life.”

  Eva straightened her back and refused the tears that burned her eyes. She would not cry. Ever.

  “Do you think I’m this thin by choice? I know my hipbones stick out and you can count my ribs. Those savages I was forced to live among couldn’t be bothered to feed the half-breed. They preferred to pretend I did not exist. I had to scavenge, forage, and hunt what I could in order to stay alive. Can you imagine how terrifying that could be for a seventeen year old girl who had known nothing but love and kindness until that point?”

  She raised her hands to her hips. Her temper rising, hate laced every word. “But they didn’t break me. Never could they break me. It didn’t matter how many insults or condemning looks they cast my way. It didn’t matter that my ‘step-mother’ made up excuses so she could have me beaten. And now here I am.” She threw her arms out wide. “My sperm donor must have sent me here hoping this castle would be my tomb and that his shameful secret would die with me. But I’m still kicking because you are not as crazed, ruthless, and soulless as everyone believes.”

  Eva took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, her body shuddered. Adrenaline pounded through her veins and her heart drummed in her ears. Hadrian stared at her, his eyes flashing red, and a muscle ticked at his jaw as he ground his teeth together. He could be mad, hell, he could spin into a rage, but she did not care. He needed to hear this.

  “Shit, Hadrian, after all of that has happened and almost happened between us, I still want you.” She stepped around her chair and descended the dais. “But we can’t be together. You won’t let us happen. You have this idea of who and what you are that is so…wrong. You say you want to protect me from emotional and possible physical pain. Well, I’ve got news for you. I’m much stronger than I appear. I can hold my own.” She pinned him with a hard glare. “And I see you, Hadrian. I see the real you. We are so similar. Our souls bear wounds, but what separates us is that despite everything, I have not closed myself off from the world. I want to live.” She rubbed her temples and released a heavy sigh. “When you stop reciting your reasons why we can’t and shouldn’t be together and you finally throw away your pity party hat, come knock on my door. I’ll answer. Well, that is if I haven’t already left.”

  With that, Eva turned and exited the hall, ascending the stairs with graceful, elegant strides.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Wind pounded against the castle as lightning cut the sky and thunder roared. The sto
rm had unleashed its fury when Eva slammed her bedroom door.

  Hours had passed since she left Hadrian downstairs at the table to digest her words.

  She punched her pillow.

  God, she had lost it and she felt awful, her stomach was in knots, her heart ached and her emotions were a tangled mess. She did not regret what she had said but the way she had said it. Venom had dripped from her words.

  Rolling to her back, she let out a heavy sigh.

  Should she hunt Hadrian down and apologize? Or should she pack her things and head out as soon as the storm passed?

  Eva snorted. She would not take the cowards’ way out, no matter how appealing it sounded.

  She knew she should get some sleep; it would help her clear her mind and organize her thoughts. Then she could find Hadrian. Besides, she was willing to bet he did not want to see her right now.

  Eva closed her eyes and tried to will herself to sleep, but the image of Hadrian sitting at the table, his jaw tightly set, his black gaze filled with raw pain.

  “Damn it,” she hissed, tossing off the sheets.

  Eva got out of bed. She kicked her feet into her slippers and grabbed her robe. She had to talk to Hadrian, she had to apologize, only then would she be able to sleep.

  She paused in the hall outside her room. Surrendering to her senses, she sought him out, relieved to find that he was in the castle. She did not want to have to brave the storm and try to have a teeth chattering conversation by the lake.

  Her footsteps were silent as she wound her way through the keep, until she found the west wing and the hall of windows. She watched the storm ravage the landscape. Ice slapped the glass as the angry wind thrashed. She slowly made her way through the long, glass-enclosed corridor. A set of floor to ceiling doors proudly stood at the end of the hall.

  The hairs on the back of her neck rose as goose bumps pricked her skin. The king was inside.

  Eva straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. She gathered her courage and tucked her emotions aside, clearing her mind. She was calm and controlled. Ready for anything.

  She shoved open the doors and stumbled in. She had expected them to be heavier, or was she stronger? She shrugged, deciding to test her strength later. Her eyes adjusted quickly. The walls and ceiling were lined with mirrors. Rays of moonlight peaked through the windows. The glass shimmered. The ballroom glittered with a luminescent glow, ethereal and otherworldly. The balcony doors were thrown wide, snow fluttered in to cover the gleaming, polished marble floor.

  Instinct told her he was here. She glanced about the room, squinting as she peered into the shadows. She could not find him.

  Frowning, Eva crossed the room and stepped out onto the balcony. The wind had risen, the clouds boiled against the dark sky and snow swirled, the flakes catching in her hair and frosting her lashes. Lightning sizzled and thunder shattered the serene silence.

  Hadrian watched her from the shadows. The white silk of her robe clung to her, hugging the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. All around her nature erupted. She looked like an ancient Roman goddess. She was breathtaking.

  Eva slowly turned, her eyes searching the ballroom. She could feel the heat and hunger in his gaze; it called to something primitive within her. Eva stepped back into the castle, the wind brushed past her, carrying her vanilla scent.

  “Why are you here?” he demanded, his forceful tone echoed through the ballroom and made the crystal chandelier sway.

  Ignoring the sharp warning in his voice, she said, “This room is gorgeous.”

  Chilled fingers wrapped about her throat as Hadrian appeared before her. His eyes flickered with red, his fangs bared. His elegant suit was torn, the jacket hanging from him in shreds, the shirt ripped open, framing his hard chest. He looked wild.

  “I asked you a question.”

  Eva shoved at his shoulder and he released his hold.

  “I came to apologize.”

  The room spun as she was twirled about and pushed against the wall of mirrors. The glass was cool on her face.

  Hadrian laced an arm about her waist, pinning her. He gathered her robe and nightgown in his fist. His free hand nudged her panties aside.

  “I will take your apology from here.”

  Eva’s thoughts would not keep up with his swift movements, but her body responded. Heat gathered, pooling at her core. She was ready for him. Her heart raced in anticipation.

  His hands moved to grip her hips, pulling her roughly against him. She moaned as his hard length brushed against her.

  A low growl rumbled through the room. He shoved away and Eva fell against the wall. She straightened her clothing and whirled around.

  “Gods, Eva,” Hadrian groaned, his hands trembled as he covered his face. “You make me crazed.”

  She heard him suck in one deep breath after another until his lungs and his heart stopped. She blinked, unsettled by the change.

  He turned and stalked through the shadows. A throne stood against the back wall, the high back was cushioned by red velvet, the wood trimmed in gold. Roaring lion’s heads formed the arms. He mounted the steps and fell onto the seat. His long legs stretched out before him as he reclined. He looked worn, his face sunken, his eyes rimmed with dark circles and his gaze unfocused.

  “State your piece and go,” he commanded with a regal air.

  Eva approached the raised dais. “I want to say I’m sorry.”

  He scoffed, unsheathing a long dagger that dangled from a leather strap, which was hooked around one of the lion’s teeth. The blade glinted in the darkness.

  “Why?”

  “Well, I, huh…” Words failed her as Hadrian playfully fingered the tip of the dagger. “I want to be clear. I’m not sorry for what I said, but I should have said it differently. I had no right talking about your brother like that.” She shifted nervously, crossing her arms over her chest. He was turning the blade over in his hand. “I’ve never exploded like that before and it wasn’t fair of me to dump everything on you like I did.”

  He slowly drew the blade across his palm, lying open his skin. “Apology not accepted.”

  “Whatever,” she snapped. “Enjoy.” Turning, she headed for the door.

  “Wait,” he called as she was about to walk out.

  Against her better judgment, Eva paused. She did not look back.

  “You were right.”

  “What?” she whispered.

  Hadrian beckoned her to come forward. She stopped at the foot of the steps that lead up to him.

  “Titus,” he grated, slicing his hand again. Eva winced. The wound heeled immediately, his flesh knitting back together as if nothing had happened. “My twin. He stood exactly where you are the night I killed him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Eva went numb. She did not know what to say, what to think or feel. She could not believe Hadrian could have murdered his own brother.

  She sank to her knees, sitting back on her heels, her robe pooled about her. Eva folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently for him to continue. She would not push, she would not demand or question. She would listen, that was what he needed, someone to listen and to understand.

  “There are many sins that tear at my soul, but this…I have never shared with anyone.” He shook his head. The deepest of sorrow filled his eyes as regret thickened his voice. “I did not come to power the traditional way. Imbrasus, the Father of my Clan, built a great army. He searched the world for the most ruthless, bloodthirsty, unforgiving warriors.”

  Eva ignored the taunting glint of the dagger. The cinnamon scent of his blood spiced the air and instantly vanished.

  “Warlords make pathetic kings. For centuries, tyrants ruled my clan. Civil war was constant. Death stalked these mountains, claiming vampires and humans with no discrimination.

  “In 1654, Avery Moreau ascended the throne,” he paused and his gaze flickered to hers. “I had been in South America when that monster was crowned.”

  Hadr
ian growled. He sounded like a beast ready to attack. He turned away from her. “Moreau was an avid supporter of human slavery. He kept bleeders as pets, locking them in cages, using them for his own amusements. They never lived long. He believed that vampires were a superior race. Humans were nothing but animals to him and his supporters. He had even devised a breeding program.”

  Hadrian’s lips twisted as disgust sharpened his eyes. His fangs lengthened and Eva winced as he cut himself again. The sound of the blade rending flesh made her stomach churn and she wished she knew why he was cutting himself.

  “Can you imagine infants and children used as bleeders?” he snarled. “I could not allow such evil and I returned home. I organized and led a rebellion. The war lasted five years. I cut Moreau down on the battlefield, claiming his and his heir’s head. Leaving no clear successor, the nobles of the clan gathered and voted for a new ruler. They elected me and I was crowned in 1659. Twelve years later, my world ended.”

  He shifted, craning his neck away as if suddenly frightened of his reflection. He fixed his eyes on the wall of winds and stared unseeing into the storm.

  “Every year around Halloween, my clan hosts a masked ball. Nobles from all the families gather for the gala. It was that night, the party had ended and dawn was near. Titus had requested I meet him here, in the Hall of Mirrors.” The dagger clattered to the floor. His fingers gripped the lion’s heads, his knuckles turning white, his claws extending. “He threw a sword at my feet,” he swallowed hard. “He challenged me. At first, I thought it was amusing. Why would my own brother challenge me for the throne?” His body shook with a violent shiver. “He attacked, lunging and swinging his sword. I defended myself.

  “As we fought I demanded to know the meaning behind his madness. I had no idea that for the last twelve years he had plotted against me, arranging one failed assassination after another. He was angered and declared I had betrayed him by naming Falcon my heir instead of him.” Hadrian’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I could not have chosen Titus to be my Second. He had not joined me during the rebellion, claiming it was his duty as a Black Knight to protect the monarchy, despite Moreau’s behavior and actions. Falcon had stood by my side and charged into battle with me, never flinching, never doubting that what we were fighting for was right…Falcon is the most honorable man I have ever known. His loyalty knows no bounds.”

 

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