She thought about about the other man who had loved her in her dreams. His name was Kyran, according to Titus. She had never quite pinned down either of their names in her dreams. Where was he? Had he really loved her in the past? How would he feel if he knew that Titus wanted to claim her and make her his? Would Kyran be a better alternative than Titus even though Titus had taken her from the temple? He still hadn’t claimed her. That was the one and only way to keep a witch from other immortals.
She peeled out of her gold sparkly mini dress and kicked off her heels. She put everything away in the well-organized walk-in closet off the side of her bedroom and slipped into a nightgown. In the morning, she would have to be around Titus again. She hoped that, at least in her sleep, she could get a break from him.
Desdemona slipped under the blankets on her big comfy bed and lay on her fluffy goose down pillow. Everything was so comfortable and soft in this life she now lived. There were no classes, no other witches to pressure her to push herself. She was completely taken care of here, in the lap of luxury.
As she lay awake in bed, she contemplated how she felt about her new life. At nineteen, she was being offered a life of leisure, so unlike the life she’d lived before she went to the temple.
Did her magic even matter anymore? Titus didn’t seem to care how gifted she was at music. He hadn’t even asked about her life or her interests or her magic. Could she live with a man so distant, who clearly had no affection for her?
She didn’t know. Her father had been a stern man. In many ways, Titus was a lot like him. Part of her almost accepted it as normal. But the other part of her wanted to rebel against it so hard it made his head spin.
With her thoughts whirling, she couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. When she finally drifted into the blackness of sleep, she fell into vivid dreams.
The blue sky of their Mediterranean homeland spread out above the marble pillars of the ancient temple of Gama. Desdemona stood with the other witches in the inner courtyard while their Arch-Priestess stood at the outer gazing pool.
Their collective magic would put an end to the immortal war. Gama’s love of her human children and her love of the female immortals demanded they stop the dragons and vampires from fighting over dominance of the world.
It had torn up the skies for a thousand years. So many had died on all sides, immortals and humans alike. The Arch-Priestess’s own sons had even died in the war. Her heart had been broken by loss, and even she was willing to give herself to save the world, even as a new baby grew in her belly. Even as her husband begged her not to do it.
All the priestesses of the ancient temple agreed. Desdemona, who was known was Patrice back then, had nothing to lose. Her love for Titus was a broken dream.
Since the first day she’d seen Titus in the courtyard of the temple, she’d loved him. Even if she was but a girl of seventeen and he was a three-thousand-year-old dragon, she still adored him. Everything in her wanted to serve him and keep him happy for the rest of her immortal life. She’d never been so sure of anything.
But after years of waiting for him to notice her, he only came to her after Kyran had given her a promise rose to spite his old friend and ally. Their rivalry had affected his judgment and Titus had come to her just to win against Kyran.
It had never been about her, no matter how much she’d wanted him. How stupid she’d been.
In her dream, all these memories and emotions played through the far reaches of her unconscious mind. She understood so much more than she ever had. She partially gained consciousness as the priestesses in her dream gathered around the inner pool to carry out the spell that would kill them all.
Desdemona’s dream-self stepped into the circle around the pool. Her waking mind rebelled against what was to come. They would all die once they chanted the spell, bringing the veil over magic into the world.
She woke with a scream, narrowly escaping the reliving of that horrid event. Desdemona was drenched in sweat, her thin satin gown slick against her curves. She threw her blankets off and stood from her bed.
As she stood in the darkness of her bedroom, Titus burst through the bedroom door, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs. He crossed the room and cupped her cheek, looking into her eyes.
“Is everything okay?” he asked her.
“It was a dream. A memory of the day we created the veil. I was awake in the dream. I almost…” She shook at the thought of it.
“It’s okay,” he said, pulling her into his arms.
She felt his chiseled chest against her cheek. She smelled the deep scent of his skin. His muscled arms encircled her, holding her close to him. She felt him harden just slightly against her stomach. Her nipples pricked under her sweaty satin gown, brushing against the hardness of his chest.
“I’m fine now,” she said, pushing away from him. “Thanks.”
“You’ve remembered more about the past?” he asked.
“I have…” she muttered.
“You never let me explain,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter now,” she said, turning away.
“You’re right. All that matters is defeating Xander and the Surge.”
“The gods are gone now,” Desdemona said. “And they aren’t coming back.”
“Are you beginning to believe?”
“What choice do I have?”
“Don’t despair,” he said flatly. “I’ll see you in the morning. Breakfast is at eight sharp.”
He stepped back and turned out of the door, closing it behind him. Desdemona was left alone in the dark, feeling more confused than ever.
Titus had offered her kindness she hadn’t expected. The feeling of being in his arms gave her comfort she’d never experienced. Sure, she’d hugged people before. Her parents and relatives, her siblings and friends. Even a few boys. But this was so different.
His touch kindled something inside her that made her want to let him in. It made her feel like she was safe and free to be in his arms. For just a few moments, until she’d broken the spell and pushed him away.
She pulled the covers back over her shoulder and drifted back to sleep. When she woke to the rising sunlight outside her window, she looked at the alarm clock on her night stand and realized it was already seven fifteen. Titus had said breakfast was at eight sharp.
Desdemona bit her lip, wanting to be around him again despite herself. She threw off the covers and went to her closet full of her haul from the night before, looking for things to wear for a day of adventure. He’d said to dress warmly.
She chose a pair of thick leggings, fur-lined boots and a long sweater that would hug her voluptuous curves. It was a deep burgundy color that made her dark skin blush pink at the cheeks and eyelids.
After she showered and dried her hair, she put on the makeup she’d bought at the salon and straightened her hair. Satisfied with her look, she took off her bathrobe and got dressed.
Looking at the clock, she saw that it was already eight fifteen. She was late for breakfast. Getting ready for a day with a billionaire wasn’t something she was used to, and she’d only had forty-five minutes to do it.
She hurried out of her door, sliding gold hoop earrings into her ears. She found Titus in the sunny dining room with a massive view of the river below and the arch in the distance. She went to the buffet and began dishing up her meal. A Goudy butler stood at the other end of the room, and Desdemona glanced at him as she slid into her seat.
“You’re late,” Titus said, looking up at her over his glass pad.
“So?” she asked.
“Didn’t you come from a farm or something? I wouldn’t expect a girl who’d survived the Dark Sun to be so lazy.”
Her mouth dropped as she held her coffee cup in her hand. What the hell?
“You’re right,” she said, keeping her cool. “In the compound, I woke before dawn every day to start the fires and gather eggs for breakfast. After breakfast, it was my job to teach the children. That was before supper and th
e evening chores. I guess living like this has made me soft. It’s no wonder people like you don’t give a flying flip about the plight of the humans you rule over.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze steely blue and unwavering. Then he threw his head back and laughed. The vibration of it radiated through her, all the way down to her core. She pursed her lips, not expecting him to be so amused.
She sipped her coffee and shrugged. There was bacon and waffles on her plate and the reminder of her life on the compound made her grateful for it. The food at the temple had been good these last few months, and this food was probably even better. She’d been filling out her substantial curves, now that she was so much better fed than she was before, and she didn’t care. In this world, one never really knew where their next meal was coming from.
They spent the rest of the meal discussing his plans. She didn’t have much to say about it, and he didn’t seem to expect her to. The fact was, she had no idea what she should do or even what she wanted. Being with Titus was not what she’d expected when she’d been left at the temple.
There was a growing desire at the pit of her stomach that craved him so profoundly it scared the hell out of her. How could she ever give in to that need? If she did, he’d own her. He’d rule over her, using her own need for him to do it. Desdemona would never let that happen. Not when she knew he’d never really loved her, and probably never would.
After breakfast, they went up to the roof of the building and climbed into his jet. It was cigar-shaped with a long tail at the back that angled into a peak.
The interior was much like a modern car, but with some technology she knew came from the immortals. Every time she witnessed their advanced technology, resentment sank in her gut. They’d taken it underground after the veil, never sharing it again with humanity. Even the Surge had hidden their technology away from human eyes, sending the world back into darkness.
Titus sat beside her in the driver’s seat. He flicked his hands over the glass holographic dashboard and input some instructions. The jet began to lift off on anti-gravity thrusters and then shot through the sky faster than any human jet at top speed. They flew over the city, and down along the river.
“Where are we going?” she asked, gazing out the window.
“I want to show you something I think you’re going to find interesting,” he said tilting his steering wheel to direct the jet downward. They landed gently on the Illinois side of the river and settled down over a collection of earthen mounds as tall as buildings across the landscape beside the river.
“What is this place?” she asked as she climbed out of the jet.
“The humans here think it’s native buildings but it’s really from before the veil. Immortals lived here and left their technologies behind.”
“Is that why you brought me here?”
“Aren’t you interested in the histories of our people?”
“They aren’t my people.”
“Why do you still feel that way?”
“I’ll always think of myself as a human. I miss my family and my old life before the Dark Sun. The less I’m confronted with this whole immortal war thing, the better. I just wish I could go home.”
Titus put his arm around her as they stood under the vast blue sky. A dusting of snow had settled over the earthen mounds, making them look like giant snowdrifts. His arm felt strong and solid around her waist. Desdemona closed her eyes against the pain of her memories, from this life and the previous one.
“You’ll be safe here,” he said in a deep voice.
“Safe? With you?”
“Why do you doubt that?”
He pulled her to him and gazed down into her eyes before he slowly moved in and brushed his lips over hers, enfolding her in his arms. She tasted his hot breath as it tickled her mouth, just before he crushed his to her. Desdemona sucked air through her nose sharply as Titus’s tongue slid between her lips. She groaned desperately, feeling her body melt against his. She ran her arms around his slim waist, feeling his tight body between them.
Titus slid his hand down her back and squeezed her ass, pulling her against his growing erection. He was wearing thick linen pants and a fur-lined leather coat. He smelled of leather and cologne, his cheek smooth from a fresh shave. The cold air nipped at her skin, making her nipples hard and her core hot and moist for Titus. His hardness grew against her and she gasped at the size of it against her.
Desdemona pulled away, touching her lips as she turned from him, facing the mounds. The broad sky pressed down on her from overhead in the clear winter air. He gripped her arm, the feeling of it a deep memory inside her subconscious. She yanked her arm away. Now she remembered what he had done. Now she remembered why she hated him so much. The memory of it flashed across her mind. And a tear fell down her face.
The night at the gathering, when he’d kissed her the first time, so many centuries ago.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Why wasn’t I enough for you?” she demanded.
“What?”
“You never wanted me, Titus. And you don’t want me now. I don’t know why we are doing this.”
He was silent, his face falling in hurt. “I’ve only ever wanted to protect you.”
“Protect me? Do you think being forced to breed is protecting me?”
“What choice do any of us have, Desdemona? The Surge has taken over large swaths of the world. More join Xander every day. The allied cities, even the temple of Gama, we are all in danger. His power grows by the minute. He takes witches and human women at will. Breeding them in an effort to produce immortal children. This is about the long game, Desdemona. You forget, we all–including you–will live for thousands of years.”
“Why did you bring me here, Titus?” she asked.
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wanted to show you the mounds. Since the veil was lifted, we’ve started an excavation in order to uncover the ancient technologies buried here.”
“What does any of that have to do with me?”
“I searched the internet for the top ten things to do on a second date and this was one of them.”
“Ha ha.”
“Well, do you want to see it or not?”
“I guess.”
She saw the determined look in his eye as he took her hand. She followed him down the wide snowy path until they came to a large mound. There was a hole cut in the side with some kind of excavation or building structure and sheets of clear plastic blowing in the wind. Crinkling, flapping noises filled her ears as they stepped closer. Titus held her hands and let her toward the dark entrance to the mound, pulling aside the flap of plastic.
They walked into the darkness, her eyes adjusting to the lack of light. Titus pulled his glass pad out of his pocket and flicked his finger over the screen, and light flooded the inside. She saw computer bays and technologies she could not understand.
“Shouldn’t there be some kind of security?”
“No one knows about it. And frankly no one cares. Humans don’t come here for any reason. And it is too close to my territory for any immortals to try to invade.”
“What is all of this?”
“This is the technology that belonged to immortals before the veil.”
He went to a computer bay and flicked his finger over the glass dashboard, bringing up a three-dimensional hologram of a couple dancing at a party. Desdemona stepped forward, slowly realizing who the couple was. It was her and Titus. At least it looked like the woman she used to be. Then it hit her that this was an image of the night he had kissed her, only moments before it happened.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“I’d hoped it would spark your memories and that you would finally understand why I pushed you away all those years ago.”
“What difference would it have made? I still would’ve died anyway.”
“Be that as it may, the past affects our present and we still have much to do in the present.”
He stepped toward her, the warmth of his body radiating through the cold. She knew he was going to kiss her again and she didn’t know if she wanted him to or not. It was so unfair that he had all his memories and she did not have hers. Now she wished she’d let Bridget tell her what she’d found in the temple’s computers.
“Shouldn’t we be getting back to town for the game?”
Titus sighed and picked up his glass pad, clicking on the screen and tapping until nodded his head. “Ajax and the rest of the players are congregating at the Superdome. I’m sure they expect us there.”
He started out of the mound without taking her hand, the air of disappointment all around. It was so thick in the air she could almost taste it. What she didn’t understand was why he would be disappointed. He had only come to the temple to claim her because he was expected to produce an heir as the Alpha of the Silverdrake clan, not because he wanted her. Maybe his disappointment was in that this whole staged relationship was going to take more of his time than he had expected it to.
11
Climbing back in his jet, Titus could still taste the flavor of Desdemona’s lips on his. The memory of the last time he had kissed her, two thousand years ago, unraveled inside him, gripping his heart and enlivening his soul. Desdemona didn’t remember what happened in their previous life. And she didn’t seem to want to know either.
When he’d told her that he’d only ever wanted what was best for her, that was the truth. She had been so young. Desdemona had been twenty-one when she died, and just seventeen when she had come to the temple. In those five years, she had learned the skills of a talented witch and had grown in her power and beauty. In those days, a witch could spend centuries at the temple, honing her skills. Fast marriages for young immortals were not common in those times. They had all the time in the world for that, even with the war raging all around them. Desdemona could have been one of the greatest witches alive back then. She only needed time and training to become what she would be.
But at twenty-one years of age, she was still a young woman with the heart and desires of a young mortal girl. She had been enamored with him from the first day, and he had known it. He could have smelled her arousal and attraction from a hundred leagues across the sea. But at that time, Titus was three thousand years old. He had seen time and change in a way that young Patrice never could have comprehended. To bring her into his world would have been an insult to her development.
Alpha Dragon's Virgin Bride Page 9