The Dark Prince(The Dark Light Series #2)(42)

Reflexively, I rub the tiny blue anchor and hold it close to my chest. "Yeah, so what?"

Again, Stavros flashes his dazzling, heart-stopping smile. "Maybe I've underestimated my son. Maybe he is living up to his potential." He makes a bemused face at the notion and shakes his head. "Moving on. I've come to inform you that I have lifted the order. Dorian is no longer obligated to kill you."

What?! "You have?"

Stavros nods. "Yes. I want your allegiance more than anything I have ever wanted to acquire, I must admit. But I want it sincerely. You will be free to choose."

"Seriously?" I shriek, failing to mute the sheer elation in my voice. "And you won't kill Dorian for failing to assassinate me?"

"No. I don't relish the idea of murdering my own son, Gabriella," he replies with an edge to his voice. Remorse flashes in his eyes. Maybe the Dark King isn't as monstrous as I initially thought.

I take a deep breath and ask the question that has been gnawing at me since we sat. "And if I choose the Light? Then what?" I whisper.

Stavros shrugs nonchalantly as if he is bored with the notion. "Then I suppose that we will belong to opposing forces. You must know what that will mean for you and Dorian. How that will affect your relationship. Especially now that you are marked."

I digest his words but refuse to give anything away. "Thank you, Stavros. I really do mean that."

"It is my pleasure, Gabriella. Also, I am aware that there is murderer on the loose. I can assure that I have nothing to do with it and would like to provide a bit more protection for you. My son is efficient enough but I don't want to be careless with your life while you are still so vulnerable."

"Is that right?" I ask unconvinced. "And what's in it for you?"

"Nothing at all," Stavros replies. "I only want to keep you safe. Being that you are half Dark and I am king, it is my duty to ensure that my people are taken care of. Now shall we head back?" he says, suddenly standing, again extending the crook of his arm. "I know my son will be anxious to see you."

I stand and exhale with relief, appeasing the Dark King by linking my arm through his, careful to avoid contact with his skin. "Yes, please."

"Ah, Gabriella. You are quite a gem. Your essence is simply hypnotic. How does my son resist you?"

I let myself smile genuinely for a beat. "He doesn't. I let him … breathe me …  sometimes."

"Oh? Interesting," he remarks as we make our way down the shopping district.

"Can I ask you a question?" I say, finally deciding to bite the bullet. When Stavros nods, I continue. "You came and helped Tammy. You reversed the petrification. Why?"

The king cocks his head to one side, just like his son does when he is lost in deliberations. "Because it needed to be done. She needed help."

"But … why? Considering what you are? Why risk it for a human? There's got to be something in it for you."

"We are not demons, Gabriella. I see the Light influence has already poisoned your mind. They, too, could have intervened and done the very same thing. Yet, where were they? Where have they been the last twenty years?"

He stops walking and turns to me, regarding me intensely. It is the first unguarded show of emotion he's allowed me to witness. "We've been there, Gabriella. The entire time. Through every fight, every disappointment, every night you stumbled home in a drunken stupor, we were there. We've protected you when the Light chose to abandon you, and we protect you now. They see you as an abomination. We see you as the goddess that you were meant to be."

His earnest admission stops me up short. His words seem so sincere; have I been wrong about the Dark all along? Are the Light truly as self-righteous as Dorian believes?

"Then why did you want to kill me?" I whisper. I clear my throat, hoping to appear more aloof. "And why would they ignore me all these years if they are hoping I would help them?"

Stavros shrugs and shakes his head, proceeding to make his way towards the salon. "We are all somewhat ruled by our fears, our irrational feelings. I acted callously. Forgive me. And while I cannot speak for their motives behind abandoning you, I would assume it was for the same ignorant reasons I felt you needed to be destroyed."

I choose to ignore his apology, somewhat skeptical of his candor. "Do you know who spelled me? Who made me … this way?" I ask weakly.

"I do not." Stavros looks at me quizzically.

"So there is no way to reverse the curse?"

Before Stavros has the chance to answer, we both glimpse Dorian flying out of the salon's doors. The look on his face is beyond seething mad and he is tense with anger, his hands rigid and stiff at his sides. The air visibly shimmers around him and I can almost feel the heat of his rage though we are several feet away. He gives his father a murderous stare and an audible growl rumbles from his panting chest. I hurriedly unlink my arm from Stavros's and stuff my hands in my jacket pockets. Shit, busted. Dorian quickly closes the distance between us in the blink of an eye and forcefully pulls me to his side, away from his father, his vengeful eyes never leaving the smug look on Stavros's face.

"Temper, temper, my son. We would not want to put a damper on this joyous occasion, now would we? Besides, she could do worse," he says winking at me. "I bid you farewell, Gabriella. Thank you for spending time with me today." The Dark King then turns and walks away.

Suddenly I am repulsed at myself for being so na?ve. This had to be a setup, just a ploy to get under Dorian's skin. And my gullible ass played right into the king's plan.

We stand there for several minutes, gazing at Stavros's retreating back. Dorian never looks down at me, never utters a word. He still has a tight grip on my arm and I suspect I'll have a distinct bruise showcasing each fingerprint. Yet, I don't protest. I deserve much, much worse for being such a complete imbecile and disappointment to Dorian.

Once Stavros is out of our line of vision, Dorian spins me around and tugs me towards Cashmere, not even bothering to look at me or slow down to alleviate my much shorter legs. Once we enter the boutique, he lets go of my arm and grabs my hand, leading me back to the office without so much as a nod in anyone's direction. His touch is searing- scorching dry ice. I smile uncomfortably at the array of confused faces. Crap. So much for being discreet.

Once we are in the small, contained space of my office, Dorian locks the door and whips me around to face him. His face is still venomous and I brace for his wrath.

Fuck. I've really done it this time.

Instead he crushes his mouth to mine, gripping my backside and pulling my body into his. In a swift movement, he spins our bodies around, pressing me against the wall with a thud. Once I've registered what is happening, my hands clutch the hardness of his shoulders, feeling the tense tendons flex as he kneads my back and ass. His kiss is urgent and harsh, his strong tongue conquering my mouth and his teeth deliberately nip my lip. I flinch at the momentary sting and moan in Dorian's mouth.

Before I know it, I am in the air, my tan knee high boots dangling at Dorian's hips. I lock them around his waist. His hands are under my sweaterdress and with a quick pull, my panties are in shreds on the floor. My fingers tug at Dorian's soft locks and I don't hold back; I pull hard. He groans his response, refusing to cease his relentless tongue-lashing.

I am so caught up in the intensity, so consumed by the desperation in his kiss that I don't even notice that he has unfastened his slacks until I feel the tip of him touch my pinkness. Then with a hard, unforgiving thrust, he is deep inside me and I cry out. He pauses for just a second, relishing in the feel of my tight walls contracting around him. Then he really punishes me. Showing me not an ounce of mercy, Dorian pounds me with fast, brutal strokes. His fingers dig my soft flesh as he holds me up, pushing into me feverishly. I revel in the ache, and it sends me to my glorious end with a cry of pleasurable pain.

"Fuck!" he grunts through clenched teeth, spilling his fury into me. We crumple to the ground, both deliciously spent, our ragged breaths the only sounds filling the small, humid space. Dorian pulls me into his arms, cradling me tenderly. I take the liberty of nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his cool, fresh scent. Even with the sheen on sweat blanketing his skin, he still smells wonderful. I resist the urge to jut my tongue out and lick the saltiness.

"I almost tore this town apart today, little girl," he says quietly.

"Why?" I murmur against his skin, though I know exactly what riled him.

"I couldn't find you. He deflected the perimeter around the two of you. I thought he … " Dorian trails off, unable to finish the heinous thought. His lips are in my hair and I hear him inhale, hoping to quiet his fears. "I got a message from you, asking me to meet you at your apartment. When I arrived and you weren't there, I waited. After a while, I called your cell but it went straight to voicemail. Then I called the store and Carmen told me that you had left to meet me at the salon per my request. Then I knew."

"I'm so sorry, Dorian," I whisper, my lips moving against his collarbone. "Had I'd known, I would have never gone. But when I got to Luxe, he was … persistent. He somehow froze them, all of them. He said he would kill everyone if I didn't go with him."