by MJ Prince
Everywhere our bodies touch, I feel the fire. His powerfully muscled body presses against mine and I feel my body respond, as if it has a mind of its own. Heat pools deep in my core and I feel something primal and raw course through me.
The traitorous feelings are insane and wrong in every sense of the word. Looking at someone like this, feeling these sensations, mean something and I shouldn’t be allowing it to happen.
Raph raises a hand to my face, as if helplessly drawn. His fingertips are gentle on my cheek, barely a ghost of a touch, but I feel it in every part of me.
“What are you doing?” My voice is a ragged whisper and I’m barely able to speak.
He closes his eyes, and touches his forehead to mine.
“I don’t know.” He repeats those words, and it’s enough to draw me out of the trance. I’m aware of my surroundings again and I can see that people are starting to stare. Devon is frowning as he watches us, and Layla looks like she’s about to walk over here and pull us apart.
There are another pair of eyes on me, too, which I don’t recognize, but I think I’ve seen once before. I look over to the edge of the dance floor and find a man with blonde hair, a few shades lighter than Raph’s and amber eyes looking over at us. His expression is neutral, but I sense the displeasure in the depths of those eyes. I can’t place that face, but his attire tells me that he is one of the Dynasty heads. The realization comes to me then that he’s Raph’s father. I recognize him because not only does he share some of Raph’s handsome features and imposing stature, I also recall that veiled look of disapproval from that first ceremony.
I look away from the man and gathering what control I have left, I turn to Raph and step away from him.
“This isn’t a good idea,” I manage to say, although I can hear the tremor in my own voice.
I don’t wait for Raph to respond as I walk away from him and find a quiet corner of the hall to gather my thoughts.
I’m not alone for long though.
“Jazmine, it’s a pleasure to see you again, and settled into Regency Mount so well.” I turn to find Raph’s father in front of me. His tone is pleasant enough, but his words seem oddly hollow.
“Jethro St. Tristan,” he says, holding out his hand. I take it after a moment, although I can feel the levels of discomfort rising inside me. I find myself thinking about that day on the cliff and Raph telling me about his mother’s depression which eventually took her life. How his father, this man standing before me now, hid it, was ashamed of it and cared more about his Dynasty than his own wife. The thought of it makes me sick and it’s a struggle to take his hand without letting the disgust show on my face.
“We didn’t get to speak properly at the presentation ceremony, but you’ve met my son, Raphael St. Tristan? I see you two seem to have gotten to know each other quickly.”
I blink at his words, because I know that they aren’t what they seem.
“Yeah, he’s in some of my classes and of course, we both live at Sovereign Hall.”
“Yes, so you will have seen how unruly he is.”
I stare at him in surprise.
“I’m not sure what you mean …” I reply, tentatively.
“Oh, I think you do. I have eyes everywhere when it concerns my Dynasty.”
I feel a chill race down my spine.
“I’m well aware of my son’s indiscretions—the girls, the partying, the unruly behavior.
“Most of it is his way of rebelling against me. But it won’t last long—Raphael is going to be the king of Eden, his life has been planned for him since the day he was born. He was raised for the throne. His life has purpose, meaning, in a way that you wouldn’t understand.”
I feel insulted by that, although I know the words are true. My life so far has been a meaningless blur, I can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like to have it all planned out for me the way Raph does. But I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing anymore.
“I must admit that the motion to bring Arwen’s secret heir to Eden was not one that I initially supported. You are half human after all, and being raised on Earth with your background—well, one could only conclude that you wouldn’t belong here in Eden, let alone be suited to the life of an heir to a sovereign Dynasty.”
His tone is diplomatic, but his words are cutting all the same, and I can feel myself bristling.
“But I don’t suppose it matters, because nothing will change the fact that Raphael is next in line to the throne, wouldn’t you agree, Jazmine?”
“Yeah, of course—why would anything change that?” I look back at him in confusion, because I have no idea what he’s trying to say.
Before he can respond, I feel Raph’s presence.
“Father,” he says. He’s wearing that shuttered expression again.
“Raphael. Always a pleasure to see you, my son.”
Raph nods stiffly and I feel a strange tension in the air between him and his father. Everything is so formal, so emotionless.
“I was just telling Jazmine here about how much you’re looking forward to ascending to the throne and how nothing will be getting in the way of that,” he says. Again, his words are full of some other meaning.
I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to anyone so seemingly pleasant and yet so cold. I get the feeling, though, that this is what is required of those in power. They spin a tangled web and their pleasant words are laced with deceit. But Magnus isn’t like this, or at least he doesn’t seem to be.
I catch something like anger flash in the depths of Raph’s eyes. But it’s gone in an instant, retreating beneath that mask of stone.
“Of course,” Raph replies evenly. Not a shred of feeling in his voice. He’s so closed off, that he may as well be one of the stone pillars lining the ballroom.
“And of course, there’s your impending betrothal ceremony to Layla.” The words sound casual, but they are very deliberate.
“Did you know, Jazmine, that the St. Tristan Dynasty and the Delphine Dynasty have been linked through marriage for generations?”
I feel my levels of discomfort rising to record levels.
“Really? It sounds kind of incestuous.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I can’t believe that I’ve spoken them. But then again, Raph’s father is right, I’m not cut out for this sovereign Dynasty bull. I say what I mean and suddenly, I don’t want to waste any more energy trying to sift through the hidden meanings or trying to pick the roses amongst the thorns.
I get the message loud and clear. Raph is going to be King, his life has meaning, his life has a purpose. I’m a nothing and no one. A half breed who doesn’t belong here and I should stay as far away from Raph as possible so that he can ride off into the sunset and continue the interbreeding tradition of his Dynasty. Message delivered.
I feel like saying so out loud, but the look on Raph’s father’s face is outraged enough that I think saying anything else would probably push him over the edge, and as much as I’d enjoy seeing that, I just don’t have the energy.
I don’t even bother to excuse myself as I walk away because I don’t think I can spend a second longer in this place without feeling like I’m going to break apart.
23
I don’t even bother to take the dress off as I flop down onto my bed. After that insightful talk with Raph’s father, I asked Devon to take me home early. He said he was fine with it, although I could sense his disappointment. I felt bad because it wasn’t fair for me to agree to go with him in the first place. I’ve spent the past ten years alone, I don’t need someone to hold my hand or to be by my side. I don’t need to settle for someone, even if they feel nice enough or safe. I’m better off alone.
So, I lie in my bed alone. I’m too lost in my thoughts to sense footsteps down the hall until I hear someone knocking at my door.
I don’t answer at first, and consider pretending I’m not here. But my lamp is on, so they’ll be able to see the light under the door. I have no idea who it could be,
because the ball was still in full swing when I left and everyone seemed to be settling in for a long one. I checked up on Dani before I left, but she seemed to be having the time of her life with Lance and I was glad for her, for both of them. Baron, despite having two gorgeous girls on his arm didn’t seem to be having as much fun as I thought he would, though, and something about the way he was looking at Lance and Dani made me wonder.
“Come in,” I say finally, sitting up. I regret my words almost instantly when the door opens and Raph steps into my room.
“Shouldn’t you be at the ball with Layla, you know showing your subjects how amazing and perfect their future king and queen are?” I mean it to sound harsh, but I’m too tired for it to come out that way and honestly, he’s the last person I expect to be here right now. I’m aware that I sound bitter and pathetic. But I’m past caring.
Raph flinches at my words, but I get no comfort from that.
“I should be,” he says. “But I’m not.”
I stare at him, well aware of how alone we are right now. He’s waiting for me to ask him a question that I don’t know I even want the answer to anymore. But I ask it anyway.
“Why are you here?”
He lets out a long breath, then as he walks towards the bed. I don’t stop him.
“Because I want to be here.”
I have no idea what to say to that. But Raph is already talking.
“You met my father today,” he says.
I let out a sharp breath, not exactly a laugh.
“I did and what a pleasure it was,” I reply.
“You spoke to him for all of five minutes, so maybe now you understand at least a fraction of what it’s like to be me.”
Something in Raph’s face chips away at my defenses, although I don’t let my guard down completely.
“All my life, my father has told me that being born into privilege comes with responsibilities. So, my whole life has been mapped out for me—what schools I went to, what skills I needed to have, what sports to play, what friends to have, who I should be with. Even down to what I should say, how I should act, who I should be.”
“Are you expecting me to feel sorry for you? Because your life is all about wealth and privilege? Because you’re the heir to the throne of an entire planet? Is that it?” I ask.
“No, all I want is for you to understand that my life—it doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to my Dynasty, it belongs to the throne. People envy my life because they think the crown belongs to me, but they’re wrong—it’s me who belongs to the crown. I told you once that this world may seem beautiful, but it’s not. Beneath all the wealth and privilege, there are lies, deceit, shackles, traps.”
I’m silenced by the raw truth that I feel in those words, and I don’t want to feel anything other than hate for him. But I do.
“Do you know what it feels like to know that your life isn’t yours? Not to have a choice? In anything? You told me that night on the beach when I asked you to stay, that there are times when you’re standing in a room full of people and still feel alone, like if you screamed at the top of your lungs, no one would even hear you.
“I’ve felt like that for almost my entire life—most days I feel like that. Like I’m alive, but I’m not really living.”
I’m surprised that he remembers my words from that night and more so that he’s admitting he knows what that feels like.
But we both fall silent then and I’m not sure if there’s anything either of us can say that could matter.
“Look—why are you even telling me this?” I ask. I know it sounds harsh but I can’t let myself care. “You’ve just said yourself that what you want doesn’t matter. So you wanting to be here, wanting to tell me all of this—it doesn’t change anything. Because it can’t. Your father was pretty clear on what does matter—you, ascending to the throne and your impending betrothal. So, I think you should go.”
Raph turns to me then. I don’t expect any explanation other than what he told me before, which is that it’s complicated. But his words surprise me.
“My betrothal to Layla was decided the day I was born. I never had a choice in it. The St. Tristan Dynasty and the Delphine Dynasty have always been the closest, the union maintained through the generations by marriage.
“Everyone expects us to be together. But it’s more than that, the alliance between our Dynasties depends on it.”
I feel sick and I don’t think I can listen to anymore. I open my mouth to tell him to leave, but his next words silence me.
“But I don’t love Layla. I never did.
“I tried being with her, for the sake of duty, but she always knew I was never really there. I’ve never been anything other than honest. So, we have an understanding.”
Anger spikes inside me and at the same time, I feel sick to my stomach.
“And what kind of understanding is that? That you get to fuck other girls because you don’t love her? Is that what this was? You wanted to mess around with me so I could keep your bed warm at night, while you sit on your throne with Layla by your side during the day? Well, you didn’t get very far, because we’ve barely even kissed!”
He looks almost distraught then.
“No! God, Jaz, that’s not what it was about at all. It isn’t what this is about. You said so yourself—we barely even kissed.
“Because I knew from the minute I saw you, that it would never be about just that with you. Layla knew it—that’s why she hated you so much.
“I couldn’t even let myself kiss you, because I didn’t want to lead you on, only to tell you that nothing can ever come of it. I knew that I could never give you what you wanted, what you deserve. Because you deserve more—you deserve everything and I don’t have that to give. It’s not mine to give.”
I laugh harshly then.
“But that’s exactly what you did. We may not have slept together, but you did sleep in my bed every night. You made me almost trust you, when you know I find it hard to trust anyone; you made me almost like you, then you told me it was a mistake. That you don’t want me. Yeah, you did a great job. So save your explanations for someone who believes you—because you sure as hell didn’t care about leading me on.”
He loses it then.
“God, Jaz, you have no idea. If I didn’t care, I would have treated you like all those other girls—fucked you, then tossed you aside.”
The intensity in those blue eyes and the rawness of his words burn into me.
“But you’re not like those other girls. You deserve more than I would ever be able to give you, so I couldn’t even go there.
“Since that first minute I saw you on that beach, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. God, I wanted you so bad. I felt like I was going crazy. Baron sure as hell thought I’d lost my goddamn mind.”
I’m shocked into stillness, and my mind blanks. I don’t know what I’d been expecting but I sure as hell hadn’t expected this.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful, Jaz, it’s almost unreal. And not just in the superficial way—everything about you is beautiful. Your sass, your strength, your kickass attitude. You’ve been through so much, but you’re so tough. You don’t let anyone give you shit. I mean you blew up my car for god’s sake. You’re so different—different from anyone I’ve ever met. In a world that’s all about appearances and status, you’re so real. Everything about you is real.
“At first I tried to drive you away. Because I had to but also because I couldn’t bear to be around you without …” He trails off then, seemingly unable to finish as he shakes his head. “I thought that if I got you to leave, it would fix everything. But then I couldn’t stand to see you go.”
His breathing is ragged, as if every word has been ripped out of somewhere deep inside him.
When I’m able to speak again, my voice is as unsteady as I feel.
“But you told me that you don’t want me. That you can’t want me. That this can never happen.”
“All my life I’ve been program
med to want only what I’ve been told to want. It’s all I’ve ever known.”
He lets out a sharp laugh, but there’s no humor in it.
“I’ve grown so used to it, that I didn’t even question it. None of it ever felt wrong … until now. Because for the first time in my life, I want something that I know I shouldn’t. And I know I’m wrong for …” He trails off then, shaking his head in a helpless gesture.
I shouldn’t want to hear the rest. But I can’t stop myself from asking him anyway.
“For what?” I say finally.
His hands reach out to cup my face then, his fingers achingly gentle against my cheekbones. I feel the touch in every fiber of my body. Then when his gaze locks with mine, I feel the entire universe falling away.
“For wanting what I want,” he replies finally, his voice barely a whisper in the space between us.
“I shouldn’t want you. I can’t want you. But I don’t think I care anymore, because I can’t stay away from you, Jaz.”
His words floor me and I feel like I can’t breathe as I look at that impossibly beautiful face.
“I want you. I want you so much.”
I’m stunned speechless as I stare back at him. He drops his hands from my face and takes my hands in his.
I think he’s going to kiss me and I don’t think I would stop him. But he sits next to me on the bed instead.
“Can I stay here with you? Tonight?” he asks.
I can hear my sharp intake of breath, because I’m not sure what he’s asking.
“Just sleeping,” he says quickly.
“I just want to sleep next to you tonight.”
No, should be my answer, but something else comes out of my mouth.
“Okay,” I say quietly.
He kicks off his shoes and shrugs off his tux jacket but is still fully clothed as he stretches out on the bed next to me. I hesitate at first, then reach over him to turn off the lamp, before lying back.
We lay in silence for what seems like an eternity.
I don’t know what possesses me to do what I do next, but I shift over to rest my cheek on his chest. I hear his breath hitch in response, but a moment later his arms are around me and I let myself feel his strength, let his warmth seep into my bones, let it chase the cold away.