"Just keep talking to me," I murmur lazily.
Dorian kisses the top of my head, his fingers twisting in the coils of my hair. "What do you want me to say, little girl?"
"Anything," I breathe, letting my eyes close. I burrow my face into the smooth hardness of his bare chest and inhale his amazing scent. "Mmmm. Tell me a story."
"A story." Dorian squeezes me a bit tighter, holding me with such care. "Ok. You rest. I'll talk." I kiss his chest in response, smiling against his soft skin.
Dorian sighs heavily then begins his nostalgic tale in a distant tone. "A long, long time ago, there was a boy eager to become a man. But he was not the man that his father intended him to be. The boy was very rebellious, very spirited, yet very talented. He did not want to embrace the life that his father had mapped out for him. He wanted no part of the depraved role he was expected to fill. He rejected his destiny. This is virtually unheard of amongst his kind, especially considering his pedigree.
"The son strayed, choosing to pave his own way and make a name for himself through his own merit. And he did. Against all odds, the young man succeeded and was known for being an asset to the elite brotherhood of assassins he belonged to. He enjoyed it- the carnage, the brutality. He felt empowered; unstoppable. But soon, he realized he was becoming more and more like his father. He was embracing everything he sought out to avoid. Everything he fought like hell to reject.
"Soon the man was faced with a life-altering choice: defy his father, his people, and all he was taught to believe, or protect his friends and their unborn child. The young man knew what it meant to deceive his father; he knew he could never win. No one ever did. Yet, he chose the latter. He wanted to believe in something greater than the constant thirst for power and influence. He wanted to believe in something more substantial just as his friend had. He knew what this choice entailed. It meant that he would go up against the most powerful Dark force there was. He would defy his king. And no one defied the king and lived to tell about it. Not even his son, the Dark Prince."
Before my weary mind can even begin to process Dorian's sad, tormented tale, the heaviness of sleep blankets me, and I fall into the dark, warm depths of my subconscious mind.
Chapter Three
I stir awake, enraptured by complete darkness. The feel of slick satin against my bare legs informs me that I am in Dorian's bed. He's shed my rumpled clothing, draping me in what feels to be one of the satin nightgowns he purchased for me at Cashmere. My hands search for him in the space beside me though I know he isn't there. The faint murmur of hushed voices wafts through the cracked bedroom door. One of the voices is a hitch-pitched soprano. Aurora. She's here, and from the sound of it, urgently pleading with Dorian. Her shrill voice is agitated, exasperated. I place my feet on the ground then lift myself up, successfully muffling the creaks and squeaks of the bed.
Virtually silent, I tiptoe to the door. I can hear parts of their hushed conversation from several yards away. Dorian is standing at the French windows, looking out into the blackness of the night. He shakes his head, his stance tense and rigid. Aurora stands just a few feet away from him, facing his back. Her hands are on her hips and I can tell she has a serious attitude. I strain to hear the details of their exchange.
"How could you be so careless, Dorian? Do you know what your father will do to me if he finds out?" Aurora whispers fiercely.
"What else could I have done? She knew. And it's not like I could lie to her." There's a crystal glass of amber liquid in his hand. He brings it up to his lips and takes a swig.
"But to link her to you? Do you know what that means? You are already giving her too much of yourself. She will drain you completely. What if she's playing you for a fool? She could very well already be consorting with the Light and is taking advantage of your weakness."
Dorian's head snaps back to look at her sharply. His eyes are alight with a vengeful warning. Aurora physically recoils at the sight of Dorian's deep-seated darkness. He returns his attention back to the bleak night sky. Aurora swallows loudly, taking a moment to formulate her words more carefully. She takes a step forward, leaving less than a foot between her and Dorian's broad back. Her perfectly manicured hand reaches out to rest on his shoulder. When he doesn't react, she takes the opportunity to place her other hand on his back, and begins to lightly knead. I feel my fists ball at my sides, my jaw tight with rising anger.
"You know, you don't have to go through with this. You don't owe her anything. We could just end her. Now. You could regain your place at your father's side; go home. And I would be right there with you, every step of the way. We could do this. Together. We could go right back in that room and kill-"
"Enough! You will not speak those words! Do you hear me?" Dorian growls viciously. Faster than I can see, he spins around, and meets Aurora's terrified expression with his own icy glare. The air around him sizzles and shimmies, indicating that his wrath is near. His mouth is mere inches from hers when he seethes, "I am your prince. You will obey me. And you will not harm her. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Dorian. I … I … apologize. Please forgive me," Aurora stammers.
Dorian's eyes are still burning into hers, his lips tight with contempt. "You can come out, little girl," he says gently, though his voice does not match his cold, menacing stare. He backs away from Aurora as if he is disgusted with her proximity.
I push the door open tentatively, unsure of how he knew I was standing there, though something tells me he knew the moment I began to stir. I walk across the room, painfully aware of Aurora's embarrassed, yet hateful glare. I meet her eyes momentarily then snap back to Dorian's now contented expression. Just being in each other's presence is mollifying. I can't even dwell on Aurora's blatant disrespect for me or her pass at Dorian. All I see is him.
I brush past my lover's bitter ex-girlfriend, and fold myself into his waiting embrace. He looks down at me and smiles before gently pressing my cheek to his chest. He makes me feel so precious, so cherished.
"Go, Aurora. I will summon you when I need you," Dorian says dismissively. I can't see her, but I can almost feel the heated tension rolling off of her.
I don't look back up at Dorian until I hear the click of the front door behind the clatter of Aurora's designer high heels.
"Why was she here?" I try to dispel the nagging desperation in my voice but I need to know.
"I summoned her. I had to inform her of your newfound knowledge."
He leads us to the plush couch, continuing to embrace me lovingly. This time is different from when he first put his arm around me on this couch. Then, he was trying to be conscious of his movements, careful not to rouse any suspicion. Now he folds himself around my frame with graceful ease.
"Summoned her?" So what, he waited until I was asleep to call her? My jaw tenses with irritation.
Dorian nods. "Aurora and I can communicate without words. Telepathically. It's common for our kind. Easier for us because we are … bonded," he explains.
Bonded? What the … Oh. "Because you two have had sex." Though I already knew they had an intimate past, just saying the words causes my chest to tighten and ache. Imagining Dorian with anyone else, especially Aurora, is like a kick to the gut.
"Yes," he breathes, stroking my cheek. "I am not sure how it will hold once you ascend, but you and I are bonded as well. And more than just physically."
Aurora did say something about a link between Dorian and me. Though I'm pretty sure I can't hear his thoughts. "How so?"
"The vial I had you drink. It connects me to every part of you. I live inside you now."
Dorian searches my eyes for reaction. Part of me wants to be angry with him for doing something so intrusive without my knowledge. But hearing him say that he lives in me is just damn erotic. And that's exactly what I want- for him to be at home inside of me in every way.
"So how does that work?" I ask after a beat, deciding that I could possibly be okay with his invasiveness.
Dorian exhales with relief. "I can feel you, every one of your emotions. I'll know when you're sad, happy, lonely, afraid, aroused. But not only that, I will experience those emotions as if they are my own. Your pain becomes my pain. Your joy becomes my joy."
"Wow. That's not weird at all," I remark sardonically.
"It's necessary. I can also use through you if I need to. If you are in trouble, I can channel my power through you. But only in extreme cases. It takes twice as much energy from me."
Unable to come up with a response, I simply nod. Dorian has thought of everything and I genuinely believe he wants to keep me safe, especially considering what he is up against. But even through all this, even with my acceptance of who and what he is, I still feel confused. Lost. Stuff like this isn't supposed to happen to unsuspecting, underachieving girls like me. I don't fit the profile. I'm not mousey, shy, or bookish. I'm not frail and awkward. I like to drink, curse too much, and have handed out my fair share of ass-whoopings. Not to mention, my virtue, or lack thereof, is about as mythical as Dorian himself.