The Dark Prince (The Dark Light Series)(44)

“Dorian,” I breathe. I want to tell him to come to me but I need to get to the bathroom. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” I race to my private restroom and discard my panties in the hamper. I also take the liberty to gargle to get the icky remnants of tequila out of my mouth. After I have freshened up, I walk back out, sans panties.

Dorian is sitting on my bed, still looking somber. “Is that all you wore to bed?” he asks after I’ve settled back under the covers.

I look down at my short cotton nightgown. “Pajamas?”

Dorian sighs, obviously annoyed. “Pretty inappropriate considering there are three other men sleeping only feet away from you.”

I shrug. “Well, they’re all out in the living room, right?” It’s really no big deal. I’d much rather them crash here than drink and drive. And it’s not like we’ve never passed out after a night of partying before.

“The brothers are,” he replies. Oh. Miguel must’ve found his way to Morgan’s room.

“Well, they are out cold. They had a lot to drink; we all did. It was good for them to get out of that hospital and let loose a bit.”

“Yes. Their mother,” he nods, looking towards my window, out into the night. “She will be fine. They should be able to see her later this morning.”

Huh? “What are you talking about, Dorian.” I let my hand reach out and pull his chin towards me. His eyes are bright and dazzling yet he looks so…distraught.

“She will be…fixed. The petrification will be reversed.”

My eyes grow wide with glee. “Oh my God, Dorian!” I exclaim, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing tightly. “You did it? You found a way?”

Dorian shakes his head sadly. This is the best news we’ve had in weeks and he’s upset? “Aurora? Did she find something?” I ask. Again Dorian shakes his head, breaking away from my embrace. I frown. “Then how, Dorian? Why don’t you seem happy? Who could have reversed it?”

Dorian remains silent for several seconds before turning his head to look at me with cold, desolate eyes. Something about his gaze is disturbing, as if he is dead inside. Every bit of life and love appears to have been drained right out of him.

“My father.”

My eyes widen in horror and a scream catches in my throat, causing me to choke on a gasp of air. “Your father? What?” I rasp in disbelief. I must still be drunk. There’s no way I could have heard him correctly.

“You never answered my question,” Dorian murmurs.

I huff with frustration. “What? What question, Dorian?”

“Did you have a nice dream?”

Sheer horror washes over my face at the remembrance of our link. He can feel what I feel. Shit. So he knows I was aroused. Hell, I was more than aroused. I freaking came in my sleep.

“Yeah…um. It’s just been a few days since we were together. And I wanted you so bad. That hasn’t happened to me in a while, I swear.”

“I don’t care about you having a wet dream, Gabriella,” he says exasperated. “That shit means nothing to me. I’m more concerned about who you were dreaming about.”

I am utterly shocked. He knows I was dreaming about somebody else? No! Crap. How do I explain this one?

“I’m sorry, Dorian. I can’t choose who I dream about. It’s not like I did that purposely. I don’t even know who that was!”

Dorian nods and chews his bottom lip as if he’s concentrating. “I do.”

“What? Hold up, what’s going on? What do you mean?”

Dorian turns his head and lets his ice blue eyes meld into mine. “My father, Gabriella.” With a tentative hand, he brushes my cheek and his face cringes in pain. “That was my father.”

Suddenly the air becomes so thick I can’t breathe. My head is swimming, my insides sloshing around like a whirlpool. “Oh my God, Dorian. Oh my…I’m so sorry. Oh shit,” I stammer.

He strokes my hair, caressing me lovingly. “It’s ok, little girl. It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

My eyes dart around wildly and I am breathless. I feel flush, clammy. I struggle to swallow down the bile rising in my throat. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Oh shit, I think I’m going to be sick.”

I turn to try to make it to the toilet but Dorian stops me before I make it off the bed, placing his hand over my stomach. His hands ignite fiery blue momentarily then the intense wave of nausea ceases, and I strangely feel completely coherent.

Holy shit! Could this night get any more bizarre? Hell, am I still freakin’ dreaming?

But I can’t dwell on Dorian’s amazing ability to cure me of the consequences of excessive amounts of tequila. His father is here. And he knows who I am.