“I shouldn’t have gone so far with you. I went too fast, and for that I am sorry. I must go now, but I will return in the morning.”
Everything had ended as abruptly as it had started and she felt a little empty. She didn’t fight him on it, though, knowing this was the best thing to do right now. “You’re sure it’s safe?”
“I wouldn’t leave you here if it wasn’t.”
She nodded at his comment. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, and then got up and walked toward the door. When he opened it he didn’t leave right away, but stopped and looked at her again. Helina trusted Gaijryc, but she hoped her trust wouldn’t end up getting her killed.
Undoing
Gaijryc walked through the mansion’s main doors and made his way to the stairs.
“Gaijryc? Is that you, my son?”
His mother’s voice rang across the first floor like nails on a chalkboard. She knew it was him, had probably sensed him a mile away, yet she called out to him as if she didn’t know—it irritated him.
He didn’t bother answering her back, just made his way into the ballroom. He stood in the entrance, the double oak doors wide open and brightly lit from the chandelier hanging in the center of the room. His mother sat at a marble-top table. She wore an evening gown encrusted with jewels, her chignon perfectly placed with every hair set just right. He swore inside as he saw the female sitting beside his mother. She looked right into his eyes and he felt chills race through his body. Iena was the spitting image of his mother’s true nature. She was cruel and heartless, bringing even the strongest of DarkShine males to their knees.
“Ah, there you are, my son.”
It amazed him that his mother could act so sweet and loving when she was the complete opposite.
“Hello, Mother.” He walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. Swatches of fabric covered the table and sketches of dance floor layouts were scattered among them. He stepped back and looked at Iena. “Hello. How are you this evening?”
She smiled suggestively. When he showed no reaction, her face became a scowl that matched her true personality. If his mother had her way, Iena and he would be wed and already have a slew of offspring.
“Sit, please. Iena and I have a lot to ask you about the upcoming ball.”
Castalia patted Iena on the hand as they both looked at each other and smiled. Both of them evil spawns of the same demon.
“Oh, yes. Look at the beautiful sketches we have.”
Iena slid the papers over, her hand purposely brushing against his as he reached for them.
“Which one do you prefer, Gaijryc?”
Iena tapped a perfectly red manicured nail on a swatch of silk fabric with gold inlaid throughout it. He looked at her before glancing at the two fabrics, a burgundy one and then the black velvet with silver vines embossed within the fabric. He could care less which one they picked, could care less about the damn ball that they were planning. All he could think about was Helina.
“I suppose this one.” He slid over the black velvet to his mother, looking between the two females. His mother gave a big smile before patting him on the hand. He’d told them what they wanted to hear, his words only meaning to placate them for the time being.
“I told you he would like this one, Iena. Gaijryc, I would like you to speak with the class this week. They need the explanation about the transition period and what they are to expect.”
He looked at his mother with disinterest as she went back to sorting through different fabrics. His mother really didn’t care if the DarkShine fledglings learned about what their life was to become. She was only making him do this as a punishment for not yet taking a mate. She knew how much he loathed speaking with the children, how little patience he had when it came teaching them.
They were no more than one hundred years old, mere teenagers when it came to DarkShine years. When they were that young, they had no control over their emotions, had no attention spans. They were more interested in the opposite sex, in how they were going to woo them for when their transition period arrived.
His mother picked up a gold bell and rang the dainty thing gently. Despite the miniscule size, the sound was loud as it echoed off the cathedral style ceiling. Within the next second a servant walked through the doors, a silver platter in her arms and three glasses filled with thick red liquid atop it.
“Ah, Lucie. Come, dear.”
Castalia cleared off a small space as the servant set a glass in front of each of them. Gaijryc looked up at Lucie and thanked her. Lucie had been a servant of the family for hundreds of years and had earned his mother’s trust. He looked up at her and smiled, and her cheeks got pink from his attention. She bowed her head, her blond hair in a perfect bun at the nape of her neck.