After brushing my teeth and throwing on an oversized tee, I find Dorian at the large window next to my bed. I’ve realized looking out into the darkness helps him think, gives him clarity. He’s holding a glass of scotch from the stash he keeps here for his visits. I think to wrap my arms around him and rest my head on the firm ripples of his back but I need answers before getting distracted by his body.
I flop down onto my bed and pick up the tiny remote to my stereo system, looking for something mellow and cathartic. I opt for Coldplay; I have a feeling it’s going to be a long, emotional night.
“I had to make sure he was gone,” he says after a few strained minutes.
Oh. I don’t dare ask him to clarify; I know who he means. His father. The dashing, charming, yet disgustingly manipulative Dark King.
“And he is, I presume.” I try to sound unbiased, unaffected but I just can’t seem to wash away the aggravation from my voice.
Dorian finally looks to me, a mixture of remorse and relief in his eyes. He takes another sip of his potent poison then hands it to me. I purposely take a sip in the same spot that his succulent lips have just kissed before setting it on my bedside table. I look up at him in expectance of his explanation for his disappearing act.
“I needed to be certain that he would not come for you. Occupy him, entertain him with…other things.” Dorian picks up the crystal glass and downs its contents as if to wash away the vile memory of spending quality time with his dad.
I have a pretty good idea of what Dorian means. The Dark King is a known philandering murderer. Who knows what kind of disgusting, kinky activities he’s into? And what could that mean for Dorian? Was he expected to engage in the same? I can’t bring myself to even entertain the notion.
“And he was…satisfied? Enough to leave?”
Ick. No matter how handsome, refined or alluring his father is, imagining him getting his rocks off by causing someone bodily harm is revolting. I physically cringe at the thought of the brutality.
“I’d say so. But I know what you’re thinking. He is a little more tactful than you would expect. You’d be surprised. The women are just as depraved and immoral. They like it. They beg him for it.” Dorian takes a single finger and lifts my chin up to meet his gaze. “I don’t do any of it. Ever. I don’t want to and I never have.”
“I know,” I murmur, refusing to meet his gaze. And I do know. Dorian could have any woman in the world. Any. But he came here. I’m not overly confident in myself, yet I am not stupid or insecure enough to pester him with trivial girl worries.
“Do you? Because I feel like there’s something else. Like something you’re keeping from me. You’re uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable.” I whisper, wringing my hands.
Dorian gives me a knowing look accompanied by a skeptical smirk. Shit. Can he feel everything?
I take a deep breath and look up at the gorgeous creature before me, hoping like hell that I don’t offend him. “Ok, ok. It’s just…I’m trying to understand what happened. I know you say you hate your father and he is…disappointed with the choices you’ve made. But being Dark, the things you’ve rejected, the things that you dislike in him, don’t they just come natural for your kind? I know my father, Alex, was different, but so are you. If there are more that feel like you do, and I’m sure there are, why is consorting with the Light so forbidden? And why am I the only one of my kind?”
Dorian’s gaze darkens a bit yet I don’t feel it is in anger or even desire. No, this is something else, another layer to the enigma that is the man I love. Maybe shame? Regret?
“You are perceptive, little girl.”
With a sigh, Dorian sits beside me, kicking off his shoes before scooting himself upward so he is reclining on the mound of pillows. Usually he would have somewhat manifested in the spot but I notice that he hasn’t used since he’s arrived. Did he overexert himself during his father’s visit? Is he weakened?
He pulls me into his arms, placing my head on his hard, warm chest. Ahhh. This is heaven. Feeling him, having him close to me, makes me feel like all is right in the world, and there are no murderers, no sociopathic fathers, no Light, no Dark. Just us.
“First of all, we didn’t start out as evil. When the Divine Power created us, we were literally made to rule the dark, the night. Just as the Light were made to control the day. Sort of like nature’s guardians.
“But as time went on, the worldly temptations that were shrouded in the dark hours of night grew undeniable to our kind, and the Dark became consumed with lust, greed, power. They wanted to rule the night and everything else, and would stop at nothing to obtain their desires. Even kill to sate the thirst for omnipotence. Thus spawning the idea that darkness is synonymous for evil.”