by Hayley Todd
In all my time in this suite, I really had never explored much beyond the living room, kitchen, and bedroom. I peered into the room as we entered and found it to be a dining room with a long wooden table down the center of the room lined with chairs. Carson pulled one of the chairs out for me and helped me sink carefully into it before seating himself beside me. My father, Anton, and Liam filed in close behind us and sat themselves about the table as well.
Damien sat near me and looked me over. “Are you okay, my daughter?” he asked, reaching out to brush the backs of my knuckles with his fingertips. Like Anton, my father was almost the same temperature as me, making him more cool than warm at his touch.
I gave a shaky nod, trying to reassure myself as well. “I-I’m okay. A bit shaken,” I responded, hating the way my voice shook.
He nodded, then turned to Anton. “A curse you say?”
Anton nodded, watching me carefully.
I glared at him but didn’t expend the energy to be truly irritated. I could only imagine that he was trying to help.
Damien looked at me expectantly but Anton answered for me instead. “It sounds like a curse, anyway. Revolving around memory, with a nice little death prophecy squeezed into the end.” He spent a moment taking a melodramatic breath and repeated the words I had spoken.
Damien sat and looked us all over as if waiting for input. Then his eyes narrowed on Carson. “Who is Marcellus,” he asked, his voice low, dangerous.
Carson stared at him, his mouth open in a small “o” of surprise. “I...it...he is me. Or was. I went by the name in the days of Rome. Where did you hear that name?”
Damien’s eyes swiveled to me for a moment and Carson followed his gaze. Then Damien looked back to Anton.
The room was frozen, the air thick with tension for a long moment. I finally looked up at Carson, his vivid green ones already trained on me. “Who is Achillia?” I asked, barely whispering the words.
He remained absolutely still for what seemed like an eternity before his eyes flicked to Damien’s.
My father stood, scraping chair legs along the floor. He gestured first to Anton, then to Liam and the three of them exited the room, the door shutting behind them.
Carson shifted in his seat. He cleared his throat before finally speaking. “Achillia was a Magick woman that I knew hundreds of years ago. I had met her sister years before. When she had been captured by a corrupt Emperor and his mistress for breaking into food storage and...removing a large portion for the poor of Rome and its outlying properties, her sister requisitioned my aid in saving her.” He paused, his eyes going wide. “Oh God,” he breathed. “It’s Valeria. She was Achillia’s sister…”
I sat back in my seat, the weight of his words hitting me and memories falling into place. “I’ve been reliving Achillia’s last moments.”
He stayed silent for so long that had he not been seated next to me, I would’ve assumed he had left.
“How did she imprint you?” I asked, the words tasting like lead on my tongue.
He leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. “Valeria had been part of an organization that helped protect the world against power hungry vampires. When you live as long as we do, you run into several beings that have lost their hold on their humanity and run the world as they see fit. In the modern age, it’s easier to control these kinds of individuals, to prevent their hold from growing too strong. Back then, it was harder to even identify potential vampires and other supernatural creatures, let alone to stop them.”
He paused for a moment to take a breath, then continued on. “I was appreciative of her cause and aided her coalition on many occasions. When she told me of Achillia’s plight, her war with Cassandra, I was sympathetic. I infiltrated the guards of the Coliseum but was too late to get her out. She fought beautifully in the arena though, obtaining her own freedom,” he hesitated, seemingly in awe thinking back on it. “The Emperor turned on Achillia, however, and wasted no time in eliminating the thorn in his side. I...I don’t remember what happened to her though…”
The admission seemed to pain him.
I had to clear my throat to force the words out. “I know what happened,” I replied.
His eyes shot to mine, wide and definitely surprised. “You what?” He asked, incredulous.
I paused. “Achillia has survived in my dreams since before I turned. Her story was always the same, replaying visions of her captivity. After I changed, the dreams moved forward, showing me the moments that led to her death.”
He sagged. His face had gone pale, making his crystalline green eyes even more pronounced. “So, she did die,” he replied.
I nodded.
“How?” He asked. Sounding simultaneously as though he couldn’t exist without knowing and also as though he never wanted to hear the words.
“The Emperor had her life force used to place a curse over Valeria and yourself,” I replied simply, trying to dull the blow. “He used witches to work a curse over you, seemingly removing your memories of those events...and connecting you to a prophecy...killing yourself and your soul mate, and Valeria with it.”
“Henrick is actualizing the prophecy,” he gasped after several stunned moments of silence. “He’s going to break the imprint.”
I hesitated, something not adding up right. “Once I’m crowned, the only way to stop Damien’s rule is to have an heir from Henrick’s bloodline…” the words clicked into my mind, making perfect sense. “If he’s going to break the imprint, he has to somehow allow me to live.”
My head spun. If Henrick could save me, he could also save Carson. But he wouldn’t. Why would he? He wanted Carson dead. He had to have Carson killed. Much like Achillia to the Emperor, Carson was a nuisance, stabbing holes in Henrick’s plot. If we couldn’t stop him, Carson and even Valeria would be killed in Henrick’s attempt at control.
“Valeria figured it out,” Carson breathed at last. “Henrick promised her that she would get me as a prize if she aided him. She wants me because of the imprint. But he didn’t tell her that if I were killed, even she would die.” He stood so fast that his chair flew out from behind him, crashing into the floor. “That idiotic woman. She valued her own happiness over your life and in so doing, doomed us all.”
He burst through the doors and immediately began explaining what he had puzzled out to Damien. I followed after a moment later. Liam was sitting in the armchair again, Anton taking up residence at the island in the kitchen. Damien and Carson faced each other in the center of the room, speaking hurriedly.
“We have to find the ritual location,” Damien growled, his hands clenched tightly and his eyes watching me. Carson jerked his head in a nod. “I will have troops dispatched, looking for any place that could serve as ritual grounds.” He looked at Liam first, then Anton. “Kyra’s coronation will take place in eight hours. I need the three of you to protect her with your lives. Once the coronation has ended, we will all be going after Henrick. I will bring him down.”
Without another word, my father sped to me, pulling me into an embrace. I hugged him back, burying my face in his chest. I was scared and rightfully so. Henrick had Heaven only knew how much time on us. He had proven hard to locate and everything hinged on anticipating his next move. Carson and my own lives rested in the balance.
“Shouldn’t we postpone the coronation?” Liam asked suddenly. Damien turned to him, his eyes hard. Liam shrank away from that intense scrutiny.
“No,” my father growled. “Before the coronation, Henrick only has to kill her. After the coronation, his job gets a little harder and gives us at least a bit of time to prepare. The coronation ball will go on as planned.” His eyes shifted down to me. “Get some beauty sleep, my daughter. When you awake, you will be crowned as princess and future queen. Then we will find Henrick, kill him, and free Will.”
With that, my father swarmed out of the room, the door slamming onto silence behind him. The three men in the room looked at each other, wide eyed, completely still. For
a long instant, it seemed we were all absorbing what had just happened. As if my life hadn’t been chaotic enough, I now had a countdown until I could help save Will. I was equally eager and petrified.
Carson turned to me at long last, the first to break the stillness. “Come on,” he said softly, gathering my hand in his. “It’s time that you get some rest.” He guided me to his bedroom and walked me to the bed, helping me ease into it and tucking me in.
He started to walk back into the living room until I whispered, “Please, stay with me.”
He turned back to me, his hard gaze softening and after a moment, nodded. He strode across the room, tugging his t-shirt from his frame and dropping it to the floor before climbing into the bed beside me. He tucked me against his chest and that warmth was a balm to my nerves.
“What will happen to Valeria?” I asked, picturing the white haired woman.
He sighed for a moment before responding. “She will remain Damien’s captive for now. I’m not sure what will become of her after that. She technically tried to have him overthrown by assisting Henrick.”
We lay for a long moment in silence but I was sure he was still awake. “What about her...and you?” I asked, the words hurting me.
He pressed a kiss into my hair. “What about us? I have not imprinted her and she is not my mate. I will forever be yours,” he said, which was enough to calm me into exhaustion and I fell asleep without much more effort, listening to his breathing, embracing his warmth, and feeling the patter of his heartbeat against my cheek.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
My dreams that night were plagued by Achillia’s memories and threats against Carson. I felt fortunate that my experiences with Raoul stayed far from the surface of my consciousness but I didn’t sleep well.
When I finally awoke, the clock read 8:00 pm, meaning I only had a couple of hours before the coronation began. I guess it would be the best night's sleep I could hope for.
Carson was awake already, my head resting on his chest, breathing softly but otherwise silent. I peered up at him, rubbing sleep from my eyes.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said with a sad smile and kissed my forehead. His hair was a tousled mess and the dark splotches beneath his eyes hadn’t faded much.
“Did you sleep at all?” I asked, lifting myself onto my elbow.
His hand ran absently over his chest where my head had rested. “A little. Not well,” he replied, grim. His eyes were haunted and I could tell he was still upset but I wasn’t sure how to assuage his worries. I wasn’t much better, I was terrified. “Want a shower?” He asked, sweeping his legs off the bed and getting up.
I never got tired of watching his shirtless form but I nodded, eager to scrub myself clean. He walked into the bathroom while I right myself and the shower already emitted warm air into the room by the time I entered.
He helped me pull my shirt off and looked over my neck and chest. A quick glance in the mirror showed what appeared to be days old remnants of bruises along my neckline and down the center of my breast.
“Want a bite?” He asked, exposing his neck. I knew he was worried about the bruises more than wanting to get hot and heavy but I nodded anyway.
I sank my teeth into his neck, feeling a knot of worry build within me from him. I didn’t dwell on the feeding, pushing the overwhelming passion and joy from my mind and removed my teeth after a moment.
When my gaze returned to the mirror, blood was splashed across my lips but the bruises had all but completely faded.
“Much better,” he said with a strained grin.
He continued to assist me in disrobing, unlatching my bra and pulling it from me. I reached down, dropping my sweatpants and panties into a pile and climbed into the shower. The water was hot against my skin and pleasant. I sighed.
He slipped in behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. He pressed his lips to my neck below my ear and I nodded.
He sank his teeth in and for one heavenly moment, I embraced the ecstasy writhing through me. He drew from me, his hands roving my body. It didn’t take long for our careful caresses to elevate to something more and he quickly had me pressed against the shower wall which was cold against my skin.
He thrust into me and I was glad that the water covered my gasps of pleasure.
After several moments of enjoying each other, we both washed ourselves clean, ridding ourselves of blood. When we climbed out, he darted into the other room, towel wrapped loosely around his waist and returned with a simple black dress.
I pulled it on, towel drying my hair into long dark waves. The dress was stunning, despite its simple design. It fit my form like it had been made for me and I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that it had with Damien, my mother, and Kellic in the building. It sported a long lace design from my right shoulder over my hip and down to the hem which came to about mid-thigh.
Once we had both finished drying off and getting ready, Carson turned to me. He’d dressed in a black tux which I found heavily alluring on him. The white shirt beneath clung to him and a quick hand down his abdomen showed I could still feel his muscles through the fabric. I shivered and he laughed.
“Already ready for round two?” he joked, pulling on a fine pair of leather dress shoes.
I gazed at him with a grin, stepping into a pair of plain black stiletto pumps. I was still several inches shorter than him but I kind of liked that. He embraced me, pulling me against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck and enjoyed as he pressed kisses to my lips, down my chin, and across my neck. He pressed his forehead to mine and we simply reveled in the alone time for a long moment.
We finally pulled apart and he guided me to the living room. As we stepped through, Anton lifted himself from his seat and Liam looked over. They both wore fine black suits as well though I didn’t know where they’d come from or when they’d changed.
Anton looked to be in better spirits tonight, his face bright and his eyes alight. “Good morning, gorgeous!” he shouted as I walked through the door. He finished the phrase with a long wolf whistle and I felt the heat rising in my cheeks.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Carson said, kissing my cheek. I was relieved that he and Anton seemed to be on a friendlier page right now. Anton grinned. For one blissful second, it seemed as though we were all just old friends, headed to a party. For one moment, the events of the past few nights seemed far away.
Which immediately made me feel guilty and images of Will flashed through my mind.
“Coffee’s hot,” Anton said, gesturing to a freshly made pot of coffee on the counter.
“Excellent thinking,” Carson replied, stepping over to the kitchen and pulling two mugs from the shelves above, sitting them on the counter and filling them. “Room for cream?” he asked me over his shoulder.
“Yes, please,” I replied. “I like a little coffee with my creamer.”
He laughed as he replaced the coffee pot and pulled the refrigerator open, dropping a full container of French Vanilla creamer on the countertop. Man after my own heart.
I pressed a kiss to his lips, dumping creamer into my coffee until it was a pleasant mocha color. By this time, he had placed a container of sugar and a spoon beside the mugs and I heavily partook in that too.
I sipped at my coffee, letting the warm liquid fill me and bring me to life a little. “This is perfect. Thank you both,” I said to Carson and Anton. They both beamed, wide smiles spreading their lips. It was almost surreal. I wasn’t accustomed to them getting along.
Anton suddenly looked shy for a moment, avoiding our gazes. Then he finally asked the question that seemed to be bothering him so. “So, Kyra,” he began and I looked up at him curiously. “Do you know if Kellic has a date for tonight?”
I laughed but immediately shoved my hand over my mouth when he looked sheepish in response. “I don’t think that she does,” I said, stifling my playful giggles.
Carson shoved Anton’s shoulder playfully. “Better ask her soon. Don’t
want her to get snatched up before the dancing,” he said, his tone gentle.
And I swear on all things holy that Anton actually blushed.
Carson and I finished our coffees with playful glances between us and he quickly rinsed the mugs out, laying them in the sink. Liam and Anton met us at the door and the four of us quickly made our way to our next destination: the boutique.
When we arrived, my mother, Gabrielle, and Kellic were already inside and wore nearly identical dresses to my own. That made me believe even more so that they had been made specifically for us. My mother caught sight of me, stopped mid-sentence and threw her arms around me.
“Good morning, my daughter! It’s coronation day!” she shrieked, overflowing with excitement. I hugged her back, laughing at her tenacity.
“Good morning, mom,” I replied.
Anton had pulled Kellic aside and I couldn’t help but grin at the two of them. I could tell when he had asked her about the coronation because she yanked him into a hug and Anton had a stunned look on his face before slowly wrapping his arms around her back. She was several inches shorter than him, even in heels, and it made their hug almost awkward. She lifted up on her toes just to be able to reach his neck.
They walked over to us, grinning from ear to ear.
“That went well, I presume,” I said, smiling back.
Anton simply grinned at me and Kellic’s eyes were bright with excitement.
She suddenly stopped, looking shocked and eagerly grabbed my hands with hers. “In all the excitement I almost forgot we were on a time constraint!” she gasped, yanking me toward a set of extravagant fitting rooms lining the far wall. Gabrielle and my mother stepped into another and Kellic slid into mine.
Inside the room, our dresses were already hanging from hooks on the wall. Evidently, someone had thought we should do some sort of theme as Kellic’s dress was the exact same shade of silver as my own. She helped me with my undergarments, tightening the corset tightly which had my breasts creating peaks at the top. I did the same for her and found that even the corsets were identical.
