The Dark Prince(The Dark Light Series #2)(29)

"Now that's out of the way, I do have some paperwork for you to sign." He picks up a packet of papers from off the desk and points to a field requiring a signature. "Sign here," he says handing me a pen.

"What's this?"

Dorian shakes his head nonchalantly. "Just some documents renegotiating your position here now that I own it in full. Nothing you need to ultimately worry about now." He flashes me a dazzling smile and I nearly melt at how insanely beautiful and happy he looks. Reluctantly, I tear my eyes from his face just long enough to scrawl my name. "And here and here," he says flipping through a few more pages.

I do as he requests then look up at him and shake my head. "Always business and pleasure with you, huh?"

"Why have one or the other when you can have both?" he winks. "Now let's get you fed."

We walk down to a little old-fashioned diner about a block away and indulge in burgers, fries and milkshakes. Of course, the milkshakes are Dorian's favorite part and I giggle jovially at his attempt to suck down the thick froth without getting a brain-freeze.

"Geez, all that power, and you haven't figured out a way to combat that?" I laugh.

Dorian presses his hand against his forehead and squints his eyes tightly. "You're right. Pretty damn pathetic."

After lunch, Dorian asks me to walk down to Luxe with him so he can check on something. I gladly oblige, more than happy to get a chance to see Morgan as well as Carlos and Jackson. Those guys are always a riot and I make a mental note to invite them to our next tequila-inspired karaoke night. Oh, the costumes! I can only imagine. As we turn on the street that houses the salon, Dorian stops me in my tracks.

"Shit. There's someone in the salon." His brow furrows in annoyance. "Fucking Light."

"Do you know who?"

Dorian shakes his head, his eyes narrowing in concentration as if he's trying to pick up some unknown signal. "No. Stay by me. Don't touch anyone."

"Should I just stay outside?"

Dorian looks at me incredulously, all of the good humor he exuded just seconds ago nowhere in sight. "Hell no. Absolutely not. I am a Skotos. We are to be feared. We never back down or run away from anything. Ever."

He intertwines his fingers with mine and gives me a stiff tug towards the salon, his body humming, almost vibrating with tension. A low murmur escapes his lips but I can't make out what he's saying. I can tell Dorian is furious, maybe even a little nervous, but his pride won't let him show it. It's the first time I've ever seen him embrace the weight of his family's credo.

We enter the salon with the usual flourish that accompanies us whenever I am with Dorian. It's impossible for anyone, man or woman, to not stop and stare at his exotic splendor. My stomach is snarled with apprehension and uncertainty, yet I am oddly elated at being in the presence of the Light, though I would have no idea who it could be. Would they be ridiculously beautiful like Dorian, and even Aurora? I wouldn't be surprised, considering how stunning Natalia was.

"Gabs! Dorian! What brings you two here?" Morgan exclaims as we approach. Sitting in the sleek stylist's chair at her station sits a middle aged woman who I see has requested a severe, trendy cut with blunt, straight bangs. Her eyes are glued on Dorian, her mouth forming an ‘O' in admiration.

"Just hanging out. How's everything going?" I try my hardest to seem passive but I am anxiously scanning the large room for any sign of the Light. Dorian squeezes my hand gently, noticing my distraction. He still appears impassive though the tiny furrow of his brow tells me that he is deep in concentration.

"Oooh, mija, I know you better come over here and speak to me!" I hear from behind us. We turn around to see Carlos, a hand on his narrow hip, smiling at me brightly.

"Carlos!" I beam. We cross the room to greet him but when I try to advance further to give him a hug, Dorian stops me before I can take another step.

"Mr. Skotos, good to see you," he says with a nod. Dorian returns the gesture politely before returning to the task of scanning the room with cold, trained eyes. When he isn't looking, Carlos mouths gestures between us with enthusiasm, mouthing, "You're together?" I blush scarlet and nod gracefully, receiving a sassy snap and a head swing from Carlos in response.

Jackson joins us, looking statuesque in platform heeled boots to accompany the all-black attire that is the salon's dress code. His platinum blonde hair is radiant and makes him look devilishly angelic. Omg, is he Light? He is certainly attractive enough. I stealthily give Dorian a sideways glance, only to see a subtle head shake in response. Of course not. Dorian would know.

Jackson gives me a brilliant smile, showcasing his gleaming white, perfect teeth. He has got to be the prettiest man I've ever seen aside from Dorian. "I just want to come over and say hi, babe," he purrs. "X is back at my station; stop by. I know he'd love to see you."

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.