by Marian Tee
“Impossible,” Mihail said. “I was with her when you kissed that girl, Silviu. There are no words to describe her pain.”
“Pain for possibly losing the chance of becoming my duchess---”
“WE DID NOT FUCKING KISS BECAUSE I KNOW SHE IS IN LOVE WITH YOU!” Ilie roared. He slowly got to his feet. “Let’s just fucking find George and we’ll make sense of this. Where did you last see her?”
“She was at the library the last time I spoke to her,” Silviu said curtly. Without another word, he left his study, making his way to the library. His heart had started hammering again.
Something’s not right. I’m worried about tonight.
Were those not Georgina’s words a while ago?
What if he had been wrong?
What would he do if he was wrong?
His heart stopped when he saw the chaos in the library. “No,” he whispered.
His Galeré were right behind him and they halted at the sight of the shattered glass on the floor.
Ilie transformed into a wolf and sniffed the air. I have smelled this scent before. He padded towards the window. The trail is still there. He leapt out of the window, loping fast to follow the trail.
Silviu’s wings broke out and he flew after Ilie. I am sorry for accusing you.
You do not have anything to be sorry about. If I am right about what I suspect, this may have been part of the Red Witch’s plan.
Behind him, he heard the rush of water as Adrijan followed him while Mihail leapt from one tree to another, keeping pace with the rest of them.
There. I found it!
Ilie swerved to the right, taking a beaten down path that circumvented the Woods of the Wraiths and went into the underground mines that had once been the dwelling of dwarves.
That man! Ilie’s gaze focused on the person about to enter the mine, dressed plainly and carrying a sack on his shoulders.
Georgina!
Without another thought, Silviu flew right past Ilie. By the time his target realized Silviu was behind him, he had already pulled out his sword.
The man’s eyes widened. A moment later, he put something inside his mouth and disappeared, the sack on his shoulder falling heavily to the ground.
Silviu immediately sought to catch it as Georgina’s attacker got away.
The bastard has escaped.
No, he is still here. I will follow his scent, Ilie said. He is a chameleon and he has simply changed into something else.
Adrijan and I will search for the Red Witch. She is likely to be nearby.
Silviu tore the sack open, his heart thundering against his chest as he prayed that he would find Georgina inside it. And she was, her eyes blinking open in shock and confusion even as she gasped for breath.
“Someone hit me!” she choked out.
“It was a man working for the Red Witch,” he said grimly.
She stiffened in his arms.
And Silviu knew she remembered.
“Georgina---”
She shook her head.
“Let me explain.”
Tears choked her voice. “You said that to me before and it wasn’t…”
The sight of her tears nearly killed Silviu. His proud heartkeeper, the girl who owned his heart, and he was always the one who reduced her to tears.
“I love you.” It was all he could say. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. If you just let me explain---”
George shook her head. “If you just trusted me a little more, Silviu,” she whispered. “I have a fucking feeling that if you had just trusted me a little more…”
He became cold at the sound of defeat underlining her words. “No. Georgina, do not lose hope. Please.”
She deliberately closed her ears to his pleas. It was…
Too. Much.
Chapter Twelve
Welcome to my crib.
#brimstonecastle #hellyeah #youaintseennothingyet
It was near dawn when the Duke of Brimstone returned to the castle with the Galeré and his heartkeeper. The ball was still in full swing, with no one except perhaps the Red Witch aware of what had gone on in the hours that the duke disappeared.
He wished the guests well on their journey back. With no announcement appearing to be forthcoming, the guests whispered among themselves that perhaps the duke needed more time to choose.
They would be partially right, for the duke did need time, desperately, but it was not to choose. It was to beg.
They were seated on the round table of the council room, waiting for Ilie to bring in his prisoner.
Again and again, his gaze was drawn to George, who refused to look at him. She had only spoken to Maricha, comforting the younger girl and doing her best to convince Mihail’s younger sister that she had played no part in what happened.
Silviu could see in the cold hard set of George’s shoulders that she had made up her mind. She was going to leave him. And in a way, he did not blame her for deciding to do so.
Once, he had asked himself this question. What would he do if she was gone from his life? At that time, he had thought only death would separate them. Now, he realized this was more painful. For in death, he could follow her. With this – he would not have the right to even look at her, touch her, or kiss her.
George gave Maricha’s hand one last squeeze before the door opened and Ilie came walking in, dragging behind him a man bound with chains.
It was indeed her captor, the latest of many.
“It’s him,” she said shortly.
“He is a chameleon. His name in our records is Cornel, but in the human world they know him by other more heinous names – Jack the Ripper being one of them.”
She shuddered, realizing how close she had been to death, being taken captive by such an evil man.
“He is now under the power of a truth serum. I learned that he has long been in the service of the Red Witch. She did not fully trust me and had taken strands of my hair for Cornel to use to impersonate me.”
Ilie’s gaze met George’s. “He was the one you talked to, George.”
Her lips parted in shock.
“He was the one you spoke to when you said you could only be the heartkeeper to Silviu.”
She jerked at his words. So fucking unfair for him to say that. So fucking unfair to remind her how much she…loved Silviu.
Ilie turned to the duke. “And Your Grace, he was also able to obtain strands of George’s hair. He was the one you spoke to, the one who told you that George and I had kissed and that she no longer wanted to be your heartkeeper because of how I made her feel.”
Silviu’s fists clenched. He wanted to murder the chameleon for those words alone. Those fucking words had cost him his heartkeeper, the one woman who would always hold the key to his heart.
“Do you have any questions?”
“Where is the Red Witch?” Mihail asked.
“She went where you will never be able to find her,” Cornel answered in a slurred voice.
“Do you know of any other plans against the duke or his heartkeeper?” Adrijan questioned.
“She will never rest until the heartkeeper is dead.”
“What about her daughters? Do they know about her? About her plans?”
“They have never been mentioned.”
Silviu asked, “Do you have anything else to say that can help us find the Red Witch?”
“Nothing.”
Ilie raised a brow.
Silviu nodded.
With a quick twist, Cornel’s neck snapped and he crumpled to the floor.
Maricha gasped and George jumped to her feet. “You killed him!”
“It is how justice is served in our world,” Mihail said.
She glared at him, words brimming on her lips even though she knew it would be pointless to say them out loud.
Behind her, Silviu said quietly, “No more picking of battles, milady. Whatever you want, it will happen.”
Ah, God, save her from repentant dukes. She tried to make her th
roat work, but it was again refusing to cooperate. Unable to speak and not wanting anyone to see her cry, she just walked out of the room and by the time she reached the stairs, she was running and running and she just didn’t want to stop---
Silviu grabbed her from behind just as she reached the mezzanine. “I’m sorry,” he whispered harshly. “I am sorry for continuously distrusting you. I am sorry for not letting you in on my plans. I am sorry for hurting you.”
And as he dropped to his knees, George started to cry.
Her tears tore him apart. “I am sorry for always making you cry. Please give me a chance to prove to you that I can change.” His voice turned raw. “Please do not leave me.”
She sobbed, “You are so fucking unfair.”
“What I am is in love with you, milady. Desperately. So much that the thought of you gone from my life cripples me.”
She beat his shoulders. “And you fucking say the prettiest words. How am I ever going to not forgive you when you do that?”
He looked up, wondering if he had heard her correctly or if it was merely his desperation deceiving him. “Is it my turn,” he asked unevenly, “to slap myself and see if I am hearing you properly? That this is real?”
She choked, cried, and laughed at the same time. “Bastard.”
“Milady, I am sorry.”
She pulled him up, and he came to his feet, towering over her, his face haunted with pain. Again, George tried to speak but no words came out. She beat his chest again, the only thing she could do.
He caught her fists and kissed them one by one.
Her tears fell faster.
“I love you, milady. I will always love you until the day I die.”
She sobbed out, “So fucking unfair.” But she was already pulling his head down for a kiss, forgiving him without words, telling him silently that he still had a chance even if for now…she would not yet be able to say she loved him, too.
****
Two weeks later, George cheerfully walked into the dining room, once again the last to arrive for breakfast.
At the sight of her holding a scroll, the entire Galeré groaned, making Silviu smile and Maricha giggle. It was truly funny, the way the land’s most fearsome warriors were terrified by a human girl.
As she took her seat across Silviu, Ilie demanded, “How many rules do you plan to fucking change?”
George looked at Silviu.
“All your battles, milady,” he repeated solemnly.
She raised a brow at Ilie. “Got that?”
“You are spoiling her too much,” Mihail growled.
“I love her,” Silviu said easily.
This time, George was the one glaring at him. “Don’t say stuff like that. It’s only breakfast time, for God’s sake!”
He looked at her innocently. “But I do love you. And when you finally admit---”
George cleared her throat. “Anyway, I was thinking about this thing you have against modern cars…”
“NO.” All three marquises spoke at the same time, their voices hard.
“But seriously, you guys! It’s animal cruelty, the way---”
“All the horses in the kingdom of Chalys are treated far better than how many Fortune 500 companies treat their employees, milady,” Mihail said.
“But eight to ten miles per hour---”
“Modern transportation of any kind will always be out of the question here, milady.” This from Adrijan and he spoke quite firmly. “Once you let cars in, the planes and trains will soon follow and then it will become far easier for humans to encroach upon our territory. You are thinking of this as a human but when you become the Duchess of Brimstone, your people will not be humans any longer. We will be your subjects and you must think of our safety.”
“I hate it when you have a point.”
Adrijan allowed himself a smile. “I will take that as a promise that you will not pursue this particular reform again.”
Grabbing a piece of toast and dipping it in butter before munching on it, George moved on to the next item on her list. She felt their pained gazes on her and demanded, “What?”
“There is a reason we have a fork and a knife on the table,” Mihail said politely.
“Oh, really? I thought they were just for display.”
Silviu said laughingly, “Do not push them too much, my love.”
She grinned at him. “I know. I’m just fucking kidding. I actually don’t have anything else to change. I’ve reviewed all the reasons why you’re prohibiting most modern inventions here and I get it. I’ll get into the plight of outsiders next---”
This time, Silviu joined the chorus of groans around the table.
“We’ll talk about that next time.” She grinned cheekily. “Besides, I still have to seduce him for that to happen. Afterwards, the duke will be on my---” She shrieked when the said duke suddenly appeared next to her, too fast for human eyes to follow.
“That’s cheating, you know! You can’t always sneak up on me like that!”
He swept her up in his arms. “I think it’s time you have breakfast in bed.”
She quirked a brow, asking dryly, “Are you sure we’re going to have breakfast?”
He quirked a brow back at her. “Are you sure you want me to specify exactly what you and I will be having for breakfast – here? Because if you insist, I can say that you will be sucking---”
She hastily kissed him. “You’re the one who has a big mouth these days, Your Grace,” George muttered against his lips.
He kissed her harder. “And you still talk too much.” In a blink, they were in their bedroom. “Now, focus on your breakfast.”
She sank to her knees, pulling his breeches down and freeing his cock. She sent him a look under her lashes, the kind that made him stiffen and his cock harden even more. “Gladly, Your Grace.”
And then she was eating him, all of him, for breakfast and neither of them spoke for a very long time.
- END -
EVREN: Enter the Dragonette
Chapter One
When I was sixteen, I had the emotional depth of a Paris Hilton song. Years and years from now, I know Paris’ legend will live on and you will still understand what I mean. But I digress. Sixteen was pretty much an eventful year for me. Sixteen was the age I first fell in love. Sixteen was the age I witnessed my first murder, and sixteen was the age I turned Evren to continue living.
Pain greeted me when I returned to consciousness. I didn’t need a mirror to know the truth…I was bruised and bleeding all over, and my ribs were broken. Every inch of my body screamed in agony, and I wished I’d had the chance to overdose myself with Vicodin. I’d have done anything just to make the pain go away. If that meant I’d die, it was a risk I was willing to take.
But someone didn’t want me taking that risk. A pair of hands gripped my shoulders and began shaking me. Hard. Each and every shake intensified the pain until I was drowning in it.
I tried to make sense of what I was going through, but my mind could only recall bits and pieces of the past.
The explosion that had turned our car into a midnight pyre of twisted metal…
That first horrible sight of a killer’s face—as if something inside me had been built to recognize evil, no matter what form it took—and the moment of choking realization that there was nothing I could do as he threw me on the ground, battering my body with head-splitting blows and rib-cracking kicks…
The sound of my sister’s screams as they dragged her away—
I forced my eyes open, a silent cry of protest emerging from my throat at the memories. This time, I welcomed the pain. It was better than reliving those moments. I couldn’t think about them. Not now, not just yet.
Everything was blurry but I could discern a face—a guy’s face—looking down at me. 911, I wanted to tell him. Don’t bother waking me up. Just call 911. And hurry, please, because I’m kinda dying here. But I couldn’t say any of those words because I was too busy trying to keep myself sane
in the course of my suffering.
“Are you awake, human?”