by Marian Tee
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Present Time
“Aren’t you going to say hi to her?” I asked thinly as I followed the rather large entourage trailing after one of the sought-after Moretti princesses. She was accompanied by a battalion of Lyccan guards, half of them bearing official Council colors while the other half bore the colors of the Moretti pack. She was petite, dark-haired and exotic looking, a perfect foil for Luka’s angelic blond looks.
I hated her, too, mostly because she could give Luka something I could never give. Emilia Moretti could be his key to his ambition, while I would always remain a brick around his neck for so many reasons.
“Perhaps,” Luka answered in a noncommittal voice that nevertheless had me gritting my teeth. Was it because he would rather rendezvous with the princess than meet with her in plain sight? Did they already have a secret to hide?
“She’s lovely,” I heard myself say flatly, feeling all the while like a complete sham.
Luka tipped my chin up, his eyes curious. “Are you by any means jealous?” He saw the answer in my eyes before I could hide it. Luka started to smile.
Asshole.
“Caylie.” The smile was in his voice now, too.
Oh God of Caros, he was such an asshole.
“Stop cursing at me.”
“I’m not,” I said loftily.
He answered with a knowing look.
Impulsively deciding to take the bull by the horns, I asked baldly, “Are you courting her?” Courtship was required among our kind, and it was an especially long, formal, and complicated dance for Caros who wanted to date outside our kind.
“No.”
I didn’t believe him at all. “Is it classified Brethren information and that’s why you’re lying?” I drawled out. “Then maybe I should rephrase the question. Are you courting someone?”
Luka missed a beat before answering, “No.”
I gazed at him in frustration. One part of me was triumphant. I had caught him lying. The other part of me was hysterical, but that part of me I’d rather not know more about.
“You don’t have to lie about…it.” I turned back to look at where the princess was conversing with Brethren officials, including Riyu Delicazzi himself, whom everyone knew was Luka’s running mate in the next elections. That one, though, was gunning for the highest seat.
“You can trust me, you know. I won’t tell me anyone about your—” I almost said ’agenda’ but quickly replaced it, “—plans.” But Luka was already gazing at me quizzically, and I knew he had caught the telltale pause and was already dissecting the possible reasons for it.
To cover it up, I offered lightly, “I could help you court her, you know.”
“Does she like you?”
“She doesn’t even care I exist.” It was the first time I heard Luka speak so cynically.
I was properly furious on his behalf. “Then she’s an idiot! How could she not love someone like you?”
Luka burst into unexpected laughter. “How could she not? I hope you remember thinking and saying that, Caylie.”
And here I was, suddenly hoping I could forget everything. “I think I’m ready for some cotton candy,” I said with false gaiety and reached out for the bags of cotton candies that Luka still held in his hand. “What are their flavors?”
“Raspberries for you, peaches for me.” He handed me the raspberry flavored one.
I dug in and tore a strip. It was delicious, as perfectly bittersweet as what I had with Luka now. I wished he had been up front with me from the very start. I wished he had never made me believe I could be his friend when…I never was.
The thought nearly had me undone, and I quickly sought another distraction, this time for myself. I tore another strip and brought it close to Luka’s lips. “Taste it.”
Luka hesitated.
My blood turned even colder. He had bared my breasts naked in front of my school, had marked me amidst hundreds of Caros, and now when we stood in one of the more secluded areas of the yacht, with most everyone’s backs on us as they followed the race—now he was hesitating?
Damn you, Luka, and damn the Moretti princess, too.
I pouted at Luka. “Come on, Luka. Don’t be so stuf—” I bit back a gasp when Luka suddenly took the strip of cotton candy into his mouth, along with my finger. He sucked at it for a nanosecond before straightening away.
His violet eyes glittered, but this time I knew it was all for me.
My blood sang, my body ached, and oh how my pulse throbbed for his bite. But when I gazed at him under my lashes, I spoke in the haughtiest tone I could manage. “That was…icky.”
Luka laughed, easily seeing through my façade of indifference. “It was…nothing.”
I gritted my teeth. Trust Luka never to let me have the last word. Mortally offended at the way he dismissed what was still sending tingles of pleasure all over my body, I snapped, “If it was any other guy they’d think they had hit the jackpot, you know.”
Luka’s lips suddenly curved. “Would it please you to think that I feel like I’ve hit the jackpot?”
I blinked, not knowing what to say, never expecting he’d ask me something like that.
But Luka wasn’t giving me time to answer anyway, not when he had carefully torn a strip from his peach-flavored cotton candy and lifted it to my mouth, his gaze mocking and challenging.
I took it after a moment’s hesitation, careful this time not to have any contact whatsoever between my mouth and anything that wasn’t peach-flavored cotton candy.
Luka laughed, but I pretended I didn’t hear it.
In time, I eventually forgot that we were in a crowd, that Emilia Moretti was somewhere in the background, and that I still hated the guy next to me. Just for tonight, I wanted to pretend we were back to how it was between us in the past.
Luka’s arm slipped around my waist and I leaned against him. All around us, eyes turned red with envy as women gazed at the picture we made. I didn’t give a fuck. They could hunger for Luka Georgiades as much as they wanted, but for tonight…he was mine.
Riyu joined us just after fireworks exploded in the sky, signaling the end of the race. He was almost as tall as Luka, dark-haired with blue-gray eyes. He carried himself always as if he would walk the path of life alone, unencumbered by bonds beyond those of allegiance, duty, and loyalty forged in battle.
I pulled away from Luka out of courtesy, curtsying to Riyu, which he acknowledged with a barely perceptible nod. Even among us Caros, Riyu’s arrogance was in a whole new level, but it was also acceptable, given that legends said our race’s ultimate destiny hinged on his shoulders.
“Stefan won,” Riyu murmured as the crowd erupted into cheers. He pointed to the sky, and we saw the Mancetti’s coat of arms being skywritten by Caro jet pilots.
“That’s going to get him a lot of girls tonight,” I murmured. The entire Caro society knew how much a man-whore the Mancetti prince was. He was the third man making up the triangle of power that Riyu and Luka had formed years ago, all of them with their own skills and scars, all of them made orphan by vampire murders.
Something flashed in Luka’s eyes. “Including you perhaps?”
That was impossible, but he didn’t have to know that. Curving my lips into a mysterious smile, I said, “It all depends on who’s the better kisser.”
Riyu shook his head. “Girls.”
But Luka didn’t spare his friend a glance, even when Riyu walked away. “If you dare—”
My heart thrilled at the ominous threat in his voice, knowing that he meant me no harm and it was his jealously possessive side talking—the side that had always been obsessed with my body. “It won’t be a problem as long as you satisfy me.”
Luka captured my wrist. In one discreet tug, like a sleight of hand that was too devious even for Caro eyes, he had me stumbling against him. Luka easily held me before I fell completely. As he did, his breath tickled my ear when he said, “Do you really think I’ll have a problem satisfying you?”<
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Ah God of Caros, save me.
Before I knew it, my instincts had again kicked in, and I was already trying to jump away. But I should have known Luka would have anticipated my reaction, and his fingers around my wrist kept me in place—and safe from the ever-watchful gaze of the Brethren guards around us.
“Asshole,” I hissed.
He chuckled, and this close, the sound was yet another caress that had my head spinning.
When Luka released me, I felt painfully bereft of his touch.
“Caylie?”
I glanced up, startled, and that was when I saw Luka offering his hand. My heart soared, even though I tried to keep a nonchalant expression on my face as I took his hand.
“Let’s go home,” he said softly with a smile.
I nodded, not wanting to say anything that could ruin the night.
We bid farewell to the other guests, with Luka doing most of the talking while I stayed silent at his side. Not so long ago, we were doing the same but I was more…outgoing, more confident. Then, I thought Luka was proud to have me with him. That was really the main difference between now and then.
Ah, God of Caros, the truth still hurt.
Luka had sent my driver away earlier, asking permission from my parents to take me home. They agreed of course. This was Luka Georgiades, after all. And if it just so happened that rumors about how he acted like such a devastatingly dominant Alpha male in the bedroom abounded, well, most parents overlooked that. Mine virtually did, mostly because they had never pretended to hide their desire for uniting our families through marriage.
“Wait.” Luka tensed as he suddenly pulled me back, cupping my elbow in a tight grip just as I was step off the sidewalk to cross the street and go to where his black Porsche Camaro was parked.
I frowned. “What is it?”
Luka picked a pebble and to my surprise, he aimed it at his car. The pebble struck his car’s trunk. The next thing I knew, Luka had thrown me to the ground with him, using his body as shield as his car exploded into flames.
Chaos erupted, terrified screams mingling with cries of horror and the panicky rampage of footfall.
“Luka!” I pushed myself up, anxiety clawing at my heart as I shook Luka, who was still lying over me.
“Caylie?” Luka glanced at me, looking a bit disoriented. His eyeglasses had been thrown off by the explosion and when he gazed down at me, even I was a little blinded by the amethyst brightness of his eyes.
He pushed himself up even as his hands urgently roamed over my body, checking for injury by sight and by touch. “Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?”
I let him help me up, and I did my best to swallow back a groan of pain at how a part of my head felt like I had been hammered several times.
“Are you sure you’re fine?” Luka’s voice was still sharp with worry. He looked completely alert now, and the sight of him in control reassured me, as if it was all I needed to have my world back to normal.
“Are you all right?” Unable to help it, I lifted the sides of his jacket to check if he was bleeding anywhere. I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t find any blood stains. I pulled away and immediately swayed on my feet.
Luka caught me before I fell, sweeping me in his arms as he strode coolly away from the still-raging explosion behind us. The crowd around us parted immediately without Luka saying a word. Even dizzy with pain as I was, I couldn’t help noticing that Luka wasn’t doing anything to leash his power now. It was out in full force, erected like an invincible shield that kept everyone away from us.
“You don’t have to carry me,” I protested even though I really didn’t mean it. If I had to be honest, I loved being carried in his arms and feeling every woman’s gaze turning a bloody shade of red as they became consumed with jealousy.
“Just enjoy it,” Luka advised dryly.
A weak laugh escaped me. “You know me so well.” My eyelids fell closed involuntarily but I stirred when I felt Luka slowly lowering me. I started to struggle when I realized he was about to strap me to a stretcher. My fingers grasped his arm. “Luka, don’t leave me!” The words had barely slipped past my lips before something inside me tore open and I was once again thrown back into my worst nightmares.
Luka, please.
Luka, please don’t go.
Luka, please don’t leave me.
The screams rebounded on each other, turning my brain into a cacophony of agonizing cries from my memories. My head exploded at the pain of it, and I cried out.
“Caylie!” Luka sounded like he was growling out my name in fear, but it reached me like a faint echo.
“Caylie! Caylie! Caylie!”
Chapter Eight
A tumultuously violent flood of images erupted in my mind the second my eyelids opened, but I managed not to make a sound. My survival training as a Caro had kicked in, something that we had been made to undergo the first year we entered school.
My gaze scanned my surroundings. I was in a hospital, with three possible exits, five potential weapons, no signs of—
The door across my bed opened and Luka came out.
The tension left my body in an instant and I relaxed, knowing that I couldn’t ever be in trouble if Luka was here with me.
Luka rapidly crossed the room to bend down over me from the side of the bed, his knuckles tenderly caressing my face. There was a dull throb in my head, tempting me to fall asleep again, but I resisted it with all my might. How could I sleep when Luka was looking at me like this?
It reminded me of the old days, never mind if I had seen them with rose-colored glasses.
His violet eyes were intensely bright behind his own glasses. “How do you feel?”
“Like people made a fuss over me for nothing,” I mumbled honestly.
Luka half-groaned, half-laughed. “Nothing? You had a concussion, Caylie. I wouldn’t call that nothing.” He sounded extremely curt now. It was a sure sign of his frustration and annoyance, but what was he so irritated with?
“Why do you seem mad at me?” I demanded, unable to help it. I immediately winced after, the stringent tone I used enough to double the severity of my headache.
Luka’s scowl worsened. “I’m not mad at you,” he bit out. “I’m mad at myself for putting you in danger twice.”
My eyes widened. “Why would you think it’s your fault?”
His lips thinned into one straight line.
“Luka?”
His beautiful face was now devoid of any expression, and that was an answer in itself.
Of course, I thought. Of course it would have to do with the Brethren. Or more likely the attack was because he was one of the Caros who strongly advocated for our involvement in the Alliance. As a result, Luka’s name wasn’t just a legend among our kind. People from other races also learned of him when he fought brilliantly at the side of Domenico Moretti when a brigand of vampires had attempted to ambush the werewolf prince and his human wife in the midways. If not for Luka, Riyu, and Stefan, the Moretti couple would have been severely outnumbered and without hope.
Knowing it was pointless to persist in this particular line of questioning, I asked instead, “Could you tell me exactly what happened to me?”
Luka’s knuckles, which had been stroking my cheek, stilled at my words. “You have a head injury caused by shrapnel. The doctor extricated three shards of glass from the left part of your temple.”
I flinched. “TMI, Luka.”
He ignored that. “The doctors say you’ll need a couple of days rest here before they can discharge you safely.”
Luka fell silent, and it was enough to make me sigh because I knew—even after all these years, even after hating him so much my anger at Luka was the only thing that kept me going in the past years—I still knew him.
“It’s not your fault,” I told him.
It was.”
“No, it wasn’t and if you insist it is, I’m going to do something crazy.”
Luka’s brow slowly went up.
I smiled.
After a moment, his lips twitched. “Crazy, huh?”
“Yes. And you know I mean it.”
The twitch became more apparent. “And so I do,” he murmured, and I knew I had won, even if it was only for this round.
Another thought occurred to me, and this time trepidation skittered across my spine. I started to push myself up, and with a puzzled frown Luka helped me into a half-reclined, half-sitting position before plumping the pillows behind my back.
