by Tee, Marian
“So you did go down—-”
Wincing, he cut her off, saying, “No, I did not propose to her in such a manner.”
Fleur leaned back against her seat in disappointment. “How disgustingly pragmatic. I told you, right? She’s a hopeless romantic. No wonder she’s still against your suit.”
“She is not.”
“She is.”
“She gave me her approval,” he said stiffly, “about tonight’s formal announcement of our engagement.”
Fleur shrugged. “So? It doesn’t mean she said yes to being your heartkeeper.”
It was almost the exact same thing Soleil had said last night, he realized. These sisters were too much alike it was uncanny.
“Oh, my,” the younger girl suddenly exclaimed. “The way my sister’s looking at the gentleman she’s dancing with—-”
He turned abruptly towards where he had last seen Soleil just in time to witness her placing one gloved hand over the baron’s arm.
Her father.
Beside her, Fleur said smugly, “I told you, milord. You’re jealous, and only people who are in love feel that way, don’t you think?”
EVEN IN HIS ADVANCED age, the baron was still a good dancer, and he expertly whirled his daughter across the floor.
“You are still too good,” she told him laughingly.
“Of course.”
She smiled up at him. “Papa, did I ever thank you?”
“For what?”
“For taking care of me, of us. For always being there—-”
His gaze narrowing, he asked warily, “Is this your way of buttering me up before you ask me for something?”
She grinned. “That has never been my style, Papa, and you know it. Besides, we all know you’re all bark. You never deny us anything.” Stopping mid-dance, she tiptoed to kiss him on the cheek. “I love you, Papa.”
When she drew back, the marquis had appeared beside them, surprising both father and daughter.
You deliberately shocked me, she accused him.
His gaze laughed at hers before he turned to the baron, asking formally, “May I have the next dance with your daughter, milord?”
“Is this an omen?” the baron grumbled. “I’m beginning to dislike the idea of having to relinquish my daughter to you.” But his smile belied his words and he was already stepping back as he spoke.
For a long time, neither of them spoke, not out loud, not in their minds. They were simply content to dance, teasing each other with stolen gazes and secret smiles, seducing each other as they whirled and dipped about—-
His fingers on her waist, her breasts against his chest-—
“This is the most scandalous dance,” she couldn’t help telling him breathlessly. It was true, but even so, she wanted more.
He smiled rakishly down at her. “Just the first of many.”
Her heart squeezed at the words, and she pressed her breasts harder against his chest.
His eyes widened.
Her smile naughty, Soleil said, “So you would not always think you can guess my every move.”
The marquis grunted. “When did I ever think that? From the moment I knew of you, you never did anything you should.”
“But you know almost my every thought,” she grumbled back, “and it’s hateful.”
His rock-hard shoulders lifting in a careless shrug, he teased, “Do not blame me for your inability to hide your thoughts.”
Her dimples flashed. “Such arrogance.” And he was, too arrogant. Because she wasn’t as bad as he thought.
They danced a second time, and it was wonderful. They danced a third time, and by then it was official, their engagement good as announced. Such was the way things were in their world.
When the music ended, Ilie cupped her face and lowering his head, he kissed her in front of everyone. Her toes curled, and even though she was very much aware of how scandalous they were being, she couldn’t help kissing him back.
When he raised his head, both of them heard the audible sigh that went through the crowd.
They grinned at each other.
“Was that romantic enough for you, milady?” he teased.
She scowled. “Fleur told you about that, didn’t she?”
Instead of answering, he told her, “You enchant me.”
Ah. He really did have the most amazing way with words. Swallowing, she managed to ask in a lighthearted voice, “Enchanting enough to fall in love with me?”
His lips twitched. “You won’t get those words that easily from me, milady.”
Ah.
Her heart started to break.
But she told herself it was not his fault – or hers.
It was just the way things were meant to be.
When she excused herself to go to the powder room, the marquis automatically offered, “Let me accompany you—-”
Soleil shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Thank you, milord, but no. Stop treating me like a damsel in distress—-”
“How about,” he said under his breath, “I turn you into a damsel in acute arousal—-”
“Milord!”
He let out a low sigh. “I shall wait here then.”
“You may wait for a long time,” she warned. “I need to fix my hair a bit. All those whirls and twirls...”
Ilie frowned. “It looks fine to me.”
“Oh, but you’re a gentleman and so you do not know better.” She curtsied to him and made her way to the powder room.
Inside, she waited for the other ladies to leave before locking the door.
She looked around her and almost laughed. The powder room...was decorated in shades of blue. Her gaze fell on the mantel clock above the fireplace.
Five minutes before midnight.
Soleil closed her eyes.
She saw her life flash before her eyes. Every precious moment with her Papa and her sisters, but oh, how curious, she thought. Every once in a while, Ilie’s image would drift across her mind, like he meant more to her than everything – even if she knew they were only together for a short while.
And then she felt it—-
Something inside of her starting to crack, like a monster about to come into the world and its sole purpose was to devour her.
Slowly, Soleil fell to the carpet.
She closed her eyes just as she heard the door behind her crash open.
Her sister’s screams—-
Her Papa bellowing for help—-
And then she felt him.
The marquis.
Ilie.
Outside, wolves began to howl, a cacophonous sound of despair.
The marquis had dragged her into his lap, shaking her. “What the fuck’s wrong with her? Tell me!”
“She’s cursed,” Fleur was crying.
Oh, Fleur. Always too impetuous for her own good.
“She needs a heartkeeper or she’ll die,” Aurora said in a rush, tears choking her voice.
And of course, Aurora, always thinking she needed to save the world just because she happened to be smarter than most.
“Open your eyes, damn you.”
He shook her, again and again, and still she wouldn’t have given in if she had not heard him speak again—-
“Damn you. Open them for me, please.” His voice broke.
Ilie’s chest exploded in painful relief as he saw Soleil’s eyes flutter open. The permanent wound over his heart blazed, his brothers in blood asking him what was wrong.
In the distance, the clock chimed.
Three minutes until midnight.
“Damn you,” he raged down at her. “Be my heartkeeper now.”
She smiled, and the sight broke his heart because it was like she was saying goodbye to him.
And now he remembered what Fleur kept telling him—-
Almost like God sending a damn message—-
A hopeless romantic.
Soleil was a foolishly hopeless romantic.
He whispered rawly, “You bloody fool.”
“Who the fuck cares?” he hissed. “Because it’s goddamn true. You’re a bloody fool, and you’re bloody selfish, to curse me like you’re cursed—-”
“N-no—-”
More blood.
“Yes,” he snarled. “You’ve cursed me.”
She was crying inside of her, but she was unable to make a sound because it was already as if the monster inside of her had taken control.
“I d-didn’t—-”
A tear slipped from the corner of Soleil’s eye, together with a drop of blood.
“Stop it,” Fleur screamed. “Stop making her—-”
The clock chimed.
Two minutes.
“If you go, then you’re cursing me to an eternity without happiness and love,” Ilie said harshly. “I’m half-demon, Soleil. Do you fucking know what that means? I’m a half-demon, and so the words that you want to hear will not come easy—-”
Tears and blood continued to mingle.
God. He could feel her life seeping out of her, and outside, the wolves in the kingdom went berserk at the pain Ilie was feeling.
I think...I could have made you say the words...if I had more time.
The words seemed to take everything from her, and Soleil’s eyes drifted closed.
No.
NO!
He shouted in his mind, Listen to me, goddamn you. You don’t need more time because you already have it.
And it was true.
Now, he knew it was true.
I would never admit it if this didn’t happen—-
And maybe that was why you had to be cursed—-
Why God, who fucking knows everything—-
He knew it was the only way I would know.
Ilie drew her up.
The clock chimed.
One minute.
He pulled her tightly to him. She felt lifeless, but he refused to believe she would leave him. Be my heartkeeper, ma lisse.
Take my heart.
Share your soul.
Spend eternity with me.
He rocked her in his arms, and he, too, bled tears of blood.
I love you, Soleil.
Be my heartkeeper.
Seconds away from midnight—-
The monster’s jaws snapped open.
Soleil choked out, Yes. I will be your heartkeeper.
The clock struck twelve.
And pain engulfed both of them.
Chapter Nine
Do you know you are causing a commotion in the entire world? But Adrijan sounded more amused than anything.
Commotion is a vast understatement, Mihail commented mildly. Scientists all over the globe are going crazy, trying to figure out the reason behind the howling phenomenon.
Is that what they have been calling it? Silviu chuckled. A howling phenomenon? And just because le Marquis di Lunare has deigned to fall in love—-
Fuck off. But even he was hard pressed to hold on to his anger as the demon duke and the rest of the Galere laughed. Even with his body still blazing with pain, struggling as it was to accept his heartkeeper’s soul, Ilie welcomed every damn bit of his discomfort.
After all, this pain was proof that Soleil was his.
More importantly, it was proof that she was alive.
Sensing the sober change in the marquis’ mood, Silviu asked, Are there any complications with the process? Little was known about heartkeeping, with most of the information either deliberately destroyed in previous wars or guarded zealously in the libraries of Sulphur.
Only that it hurts like the bloody hell.
Silence.
Ilie bristled. What?
You almost sound like you enjoy the pain, Adrijan marveled. As Mihail and Silviu politely coughed to cover their amusement, Adrijan continued, It is unlike you to be masochistic—-
Fuck you.
But it is true, my friend, Silviu interjected. You almost sound mellow, even though I know from experience that the pain of heartkeeping is unimaginable.
Ilie didn’t bother to answer, disgruntled at the way they could so easily see through him. Instead, he asked, How long will this pain last?
According to Maricha, it varies from case to case and would be mostly dependent on how, err, sinful you have been.
Pause.
Then in unison, the three other men said, You are fucked.
Ilie grimaced. You don’t have to sound so damn certain. But in truth, even he thought the same thing. Of the four of them, he had most likely committed the greatest sins. Silviu, despite having been sired by one of Hell’s most sadistic demons, had also been tempered by his mother’s angelic blood. Mihail had always been too noble to commit any obscene wrongdoing while most of the time, Adrijan was too cold-blooded to even care to sin.
But Ilie?
Sin had always been his favorite pastime, but apparently heartkeeping was the moment when he had to atone for them.
Lie low for now, and that is a command, Silviu didn’t hesitate to add, knowing how stubborn the shapeshifting marquis could be.
Ilie scowled. If you have need of me—-
I do, and my greatest need is for you to take care of yourself. You will be much stronger, but only when the process has been completed. Until then, you will not possess even a tenth of your power. You may even find yourself deaf to your heartkeeper’s thoughts.
But it did not happen to you and George, Ilie protested.
Silence again.
What? Did it?
No, it did not. But this time, the demon duke had opted for a private thread of thought, one that was only between him and Ilie. Do you know, Ilie? This is the first time that you spoke of George without pain.
Ah.
No, he said slowly. I had not noticed, but I am unsurprised.
Because that moment he had thought his heartkeeper would die on him—-
I have loved my heartkeeper all along, and yet I had been blinded by my fear without being aware of it.
But you are not afraid now?
I am, but of something different. I am afraid of ever losing her.
Ah. I am well acquainted with that fear. And I have bad news for you, milord. Silviu smiled. That fear will be your faithful companion for the rest of your life.
The sound of footsteps reached Ilie, and he said to Silviu and the others, I must go.
The permanent wound over his heart eased, and the presence of the Galere and the demon duke retreated from his mind. Outside, he heard the Orpheline sisters still chatting, but their voices were softer and sleepier now.
The younger sisters sounded hoarse, too, he noted, and that was no wonder, with all the crying they had done downstairs.
While waiting for Soleil to come up, he had been content to listen to them and had thoroughly approved of the way the youngest sister had berated his heartkeeper.
Never do that to us again. Give us a chance to at least convince you otherwise, curse you, Soleil Orpheline!
He nodded grimly at the memory. Every word was damn right, he thought, and his fingers curled into a fist. He hoped to hell that he would never be made to experience such helplessness again.
Throughout the night, the baron and the younger daughters had lectured Soleil about her penchant to keep her trouble to herself. And she had let them, never saying a word in her defense, and if she did speak, it was in calm, soothing tones.
Not once had he heard her cry, Ilie thought, and that alone convinced him he had to be here.
Even though it would have been better and safer to recuperate in Brimstone, he would never abandon Soleil in her time of need—-
Soleil’s bedroom door finally opened, and Ilie waited patiently for his heartkeeper to notice him. He watched her shut the door and promptly lean back against it, closing her eyes wearily.
When she opened her eyes and saw him, the marquis smiled. “Good mo
rning.”
Soleil burst into tears.
As expected, Ilie thought in amusement.
In a blink, they were in bed, Soleil in his lap, and as he licked away her tears, he murmured, “Serves you right, thinking you could get away with something like that—-”
“I-insufferable oaf.”
“Jerk is less of a mouthful, ma lisse.”
She sobbed obediently, “Jerk.”
He kissed her hard, and with her hands trapped between their bodies, Soleil could feel the way his heart thundered against his chest.
“Yes,” he gritted out, reading her unmasked thoughts with ease. “I’m still fucking terrified. I don’t think I will ever forget feeling so damn helpless.”
“I’m sorry.” But more than that, she thought dizzily, she was thankful to him. She stared at the marquis, wondering what could she have possibly done in her past life to deserve someone so exquisite like Ilie Marcovici.
“Don’t worry,” the marquis was muttering.
Even his tone was beautiful.
Everything about him was beautiful.
And he loved her!
He loved her!
“I’ll make you pay—-”
Her feelings spilled over, and she could no longer contain herself. She moved forward and covered her mouth with his.
Ilie stiffened.
She whispered brokenly in his mind, Milord...I love you.
Ah.
A moment later, and he sighed raggedly, Damn you.
More tears streaked down Soleil’s cheeks. Demon. He really was a demon. No one but a demon could have made such words sound so unbearably sweet.
Silver eyes caught blue ones. How do I punish you when you say that?
She couldn’t answer, gasping as she was for in the next moment, he had her lying on her back under him.
And then he was undressing her—-
No, she protested. Milord, stop, no—-
Why not? But already he had managed to completely unbutton her dress and was now pulling the sleeves down her arms.
Desire blazed into life between them, and there was nothing she wanted more than to surrender herself to his touch.
Nothing except—-
Soleil cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. Are you not in pain, Ilie? She knew so little about heartkeeping, but she was at least certain it was not an easy process. A demon having a soul was like injecting alien DNA in one’s system, one that was parasitic in nature.