The Dark Prince(The Dark Light Series #2)(75)

***

Air fills my lungs in a rush, so much so that I almost feel high with oxygen. My wide open eyes dart around frantically, looking for any sign of familiarity as my rigid hands grip the slick fabric underneath me. I know this place. The satin comforter, the black and gold motif, the smell of rainwater and fresh linen. I've been here before.

Dorian's suite.

As if he could hear my realization, he's at my side, cradling my head. "How do you feel?" he asks, concern etched on his troubled face. His blue eyes twinkle in the dim light flooding from the en suite bathroom.

Immediately, my concern goes to my debilitating injuries. I stretch my hand in front of me, expecting to see mangled flesh and bone. It's perfectly fine, and I wiggle each digit, ensuring full mobility. My hand touches the back of my head. I can feel knots of dried, caked blood yet there is no gash. Not even a touch of soreness where the wound would have been. My lungs and neck feel fine, no trace of labored, shallow breathing. And the pain … it's gone. I look to Dorian with a puzzled, borderline panicked, look.

"What happened? I was … he had me … I thought," I stammer, clutching my chest. I realize it's draped in feather-light silk, not tattered, bloodied rags. "Was it a dream?"

Dorian shakes his head solemnly, grasping my hands in his. His thumb traces small circles around my anchor mark. "No. It wasn't."

Fear and confusion grip me, causing Dorian to pull me closer. "What happened to me?" I whisper.

Tension rolls off him in waves and his jaw begins to tick wildly. Though his body has stiffened, his hands are still gentle and calming as they stroke mine. "The Enchanter captured and tortured you. You lost a lot of blood. You suffered several broken bones, including a punctured lung and crushed cervical vertebrae."

I frown. So it wasn't a dream. I remember all of those things happening. I felt every broken bone and gaping wound. I could taste and smell the iron of mass amounts of blood loss in the air. I remember my fear and desperation. "But … I'm fine. What happened? How could all of that have happened, yet I'm here with you, unharmed?" I think back to just minutes before, to my vision on the beach of Skiathos. The wind whipping through my white dress. The smell of seawater. The feel of the sun's golden warmth …

"Oh my God, Dorian," I say in a horrified whisper. "Am I dead?"

He looks away, avoiding my tear-filled gaze as he battles his own emotions. "You were."

"And … now?" It suddenly dawns on me that it's completely dark outside. I try to pull away to stand but Dorian has a firm hold on my hands. "Oh no, what time is it?"

"10pm. The fourteenth."

So I haven't ascended. I sigh with relief, but only for a split second. I still don't know what I am. I don't even know if I'm still dreaming. Or if I'm …  "So I'm not dead?" I choke out, my throat suddenly as dry as chalk. "Is this an illusion?"

Dorian looks back to me, a slight frown puckering his forehead. "No, little girl."

I open my mouth to speak, the questions bombarding me all at once. I decide to go with the most obvious question. "How?"

He swallows slowly, the movement of his throat captivating my gaze. Then he cups my cheeks with his warm, soft hands. Hands I haven't felt on my body in way too long. "I felt you. I felt your pain, your fear. It crippled me. That feeling of pure dread filled me, stole my breath, and brought me to my knees. I had to come to you. I had to save you."

His thumbs brush tiny circles on the apples of my cheeks as he takes a calming breath. His beautiful endless blue eyes freeze over, becoming distant and cold. "I found you just as that bastard crushed your neck in his hands. I heard it, and it was the most terrifying sound I have ever heard. I felt the life slip away from your body. I saw you lying there ghostly white and limp."

His bottom lip trembles ever so lightly before he sucks it into his mouth, digging his teeth in it and taking a deep breath. "And I did to him what he wanted to do to you. I slaughtered him until he was nothing more than a pathetic speck of dust. I wanted to do more. I wanted everyone he has ever known to suffer. He took away the only thing I cared about. The only person I have ever loved. He took my reason to live."

A hand brushes away a few tangles that have fallen in my face. "I kneeled over your lifeless body and I sobbed. I felt myself break into a million pieces. Losing you completely shattered me and I wanted to die, Gabriella. I wanted to die with you because living without you isn't an option for me."

His eyes begin to well up with tears, matching my own. I don't even breathe as his pained grimace turns into a hopeful half-smile. "So I did something I hadn't done for centuries. I prayed. I wailed out to the Divine, begging him to help me. Asking the he take me instead and leave you to live a happy life. I screamed and cried until I had no voice left, until the sobs tearing through me made my body ache. All the while, I kept trying to save you. Kept trying to heal you. I couldn't accept that you were gone. I couldn't."

He pauses, his eyes searching my face for reaction. All I can do is look at him in disbelief. Dorian leans forward and rests his forehead against mine. We sit there for several long moments, soaking in the closeness, before he speaks again. "I don't know how, but I healed you," he whispers, his cool breath washing over my skin. "Don't you see? My love for you is so deep and so strong that the Divine heard my cries. Felt my excruciating pain. And something within, something that had been dead inside me awakened. And I healed you."

He pulls back just a fraction to press his lips against mine. "I love you," he says between feather-light kisses. "So much, Gabriella. I love you so much."

He kisses every inch of my face, yet I am too shell-shocked by his account to reciprocate. I died? Dorian saved me? Then I was on a beach in Skiathos? It all doesn't seem real to me. Like a fuzzy, bootleg version of Inception … a dream within a dream. Yet while the view may be hazy, the memory of the pain- the excruciating ache throughout my entire body- is crystal clear. I remember the agony, the desperation. The unrelenting fear that consumed the fight in me. The sudden need to survive it all though I knew I couldn't.

"I was in Skiathos. On a beach. With you," I say, trying to make sense of it all.

"Yes," he replies, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I gave you that illusion while your body healed. I didn't want you to feel any more pain. And I didn't want you to be alone."

"Thank you."

My eyes search Dorian's hopeful face, taking in the sight of his relief. Then I spy his attire, all thoughts of hope leaving me. I push against his chest a bit to put some distance between our bodies. "Are you wearing … a tuxedo?" My eyes grow wide at his stoic silence. "Oh my God, Dorian, you did it, didn't you? You married her." His tailored black dress slacks, crimson-stained white dress shirt, and unraveled bow tie say it all. He was at his wedding.

Dorian shakes his head, releasing a breath. "No. I didn't. I couldn't. I felt how badly you needed me. I knew I had to come to you. I left her … at the alter."

Relief creeps in but I quickly push it away in exchange for skepticism. "But if I hadn't been in trouble, if you hadn't felt those things from me, you would have done it, right? You would have married her."

Aggravation flashes across his face, colliding with the visible regret spilling from his eyes. He can't lie. And his silence tells me everything I need to know.

"That's what I thought," I mumble, pulling away from him altogether.

Dorian tries to recapture my hands but doesn't fight against my refusal to let him. "Gabriella, I need you to understand what this marriage would have meant to me. It would have given me the influence- the power- to end my father. Once the throne was mine, I had planned to kill him. I couldn't tell you that because, as you know, my thoughts and words were not safe. There's no reason to hide this from you now. I'm as good as dead. I've committed my final act of treason by walking out on that mockery of a wedding." He smiles weakly but it translates as a grimace.

I nod, soaking it all in. "So all of this … was just a trick? To get to Stavros?" Part of me knew. But after all the lies and deceit and half-truths, I just couldn't follow my instincts. I want to believe that Dorian has always been completely honest with me but the truth is he hasn't. He's fed me too many betrayals. Betrayals that were eclipsed by my love for him.

"It was. And to be rid of Aurora. I had planned to imprison her. Strip her of all her power and leave her with just enough to exist … "

"Petrify her," I whisper, speaking of the same punishment that still haunts him.

"Yes," he nods. "But none of that matters now. I had to come to you. There's no way I could go through with all that while you were suffering." He runs his hands up and down my bare, unmarred arms, igniting pleasurable goosebumps on my skin.

I let myself relax under his touch, my body fighting fatigue from the day's events. The thought brings me up short and my eyes snap to Dorian's. Without thinking, my hands are on his face, pulling it within inches of mine. His eyes close reflexively as if expecting me to kiss him, and as much as I want to- need to- I know there is so much more that we have to discuss.