The Dark Prince (The Dark Light Series)(59)

I see Jackson whisper something to Carlos and look at me. Carlos nods excitedly, causing Jackson to flash me a wink. He grabs a pair of shears from Carlos’s station before waving at both Dorian and I and returning to his task.

“So, anyway,” Carlos says hands still propped on his hips. “My birthday is this Friday and we’re having a little party down at that new club Aria. I really want you to come. Both of you,” he smiles.

I look up at Dorian hopefully, and am pleasantly surprised when he nods his approval. “Carlos, we’d love to,” I say. I would have gone without him, but having Dorian by my side doesn’t hurt.

“Great! Bring whoever you want; the more the merrier. And be ready to party because you know how we do!” he cackles.

Dorian hurriedly ushers me to his back office, giving me only a few seconds to stop and greet Xavier as Jackson cuts his chocolate brown hair into a stylish yet conservative style.

“So anything?” I ask once we are alone.

Dorian shakes his head and purses his lips in frustration. Other than Morgan, Carlos, Jackson, and Xavier, I didn’t recognize any of the other stylists or clientele. And most of them were too obviously enraptured with Dorian’s beauty to seem put off or defensive.

“But are you sure about Jackson? I mean, look at him. That can’t be natural.”

“No, Gabriella. He’s human.”

I tap my foot, trying to remember the faces of each client. “Oooh! Maybe the lady with the miniature dog. Aren’t the Light supposed to be animal lovers or something?”

Dorian shakes his head once again, walking to the desk to rifle through a pamphlet of papers. “No.”

“Or what about-”

“Dammit, Gabriella! I don’t fucking know who it is!” Dorian shouts before I can complete my thought. He glares at me through cold, wrathful eyes, obviously infuriated by my line of questioning. “Just shut up so I can think for a second. Shit.”

I do as I’m told and am compliantly silent, disgusted both with myself for obliging to his demands without resistance, and with him for treating me like a misbehaved delinquent. I would never take this from anybody else. Not even Jared. So why am I backing down now? Why am I letting Dorian disrespect and belittle me without even so much as an eye roll? What is happening to me? Has Dorian finally sexed me into stupefied submission?

The walk back to Cashmere is painfully quiet and tense, only making me more aware of my dejected spirit coupled with Dorian’s intense rage. Hard to believe that less than an hour ago, Dorian had me bent over my desk, showing me just how deep his love goes. Now there is only disdain and aggravation etched in his face.

“I think you should go,” I say to him a few storefronts down from Cashmere.

Dorian exhales his irritation in a sharp huff and looks away, shaking his head in disbelief of my pettiness. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll stay until the end of your shift.”

“No. You should go,” I insist. “We’ll talk later.”

Dorian slightly softens his rigid expression, hoping to coax me into seeing things his way. “I need to be here with you. I need to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” I snap angrily. “Because all I see is you chasing a ghost and treating me like shit because you feel inadequate. How can you help me when you can’t even help yourself? Hell, your own dad wants you dead. Maybe you’re the one who needs protection. Go home, Dorian. I don’t want or need you here.”

I turn on my heel and march to the boutique and don’t stop until I’m nestled safely inside the solace of my office. I flop into the swivel chair and let my ragged shoulders fall in defeat. I’m angry, frustrated, and hurt, yet I have no one to blame but myself. Only Dorian can wound me like this, stripping me bare of my strength and rebellion, because I’ve let him penetrate the parts of me that I’ve kept safeguarded for so long. Only he can push me to that place that causes me to speak so cruelly out of hurt and anger, revealing just how extremely immature I truly am.

What the hell is wrong with me? What have I just done?

Dorian confided in me and I didn’t hesitate to use his deepest secrets as ammunition. He’ll never forgive me; I’ll never forgive myself. He must think I am just some petty, selfish, reckless child, and he wouldn’t be far off. He will see me for what I truly am, not the person I have wanted to be since the day I met him. Someone that is worthy of his affections. Even without the link that ties our lives together, his disapproval kills me.

I come home later that evening, half expecting to find Dorian waiting in my room but come up disappointed. Part of me is relieved; I’m not ready to face him or admit the power he has over me. Yet the honest part of me is suffering inside, feeling weak and depleted. I still want him, even though he has demeaned me, and I hate myself for feeling that way. I need him to feel safe, to feel whole. But why would he come here after what I’ve said to him? I pretty much told him that he’s failed me, making me just another person in his life that sees him as a disappointment.