Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)

Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3) Page 80

“Maybe you didn't.”

“Yeah, except the cuffs are in the training hall now.”

I frowned.

“Look, it doesn’t mean anything, really—I’ve seen it happen before, you know. In trauma situations, families of victims can quite often experience mind blanks due to shock. And, I gotta tell you, baby, the things that went through my mind when I saw you that way.” He stopped walking. “I wanted to rip shreds off anyone who’d ever touched you. I wanted to kill David for not being here to protect you. I was so blindly angry I actually punched him in the face.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He looked at his fist. “He shoulda been here. He shoulda been here all along, and none of this woulda happened.”

I rubbed his chest, letting out the breath I’d been holding. “It’s okay, Mike. I'm safe now, and…if it makes you feel any better, you can put guards on my room at night.”

“Really?” His eyes almost bludged out of his head.

“Yeah. Can't have you losing sleep.”

He kissed my hand. “Thanks, Ara.”

“No worries.”

David woke early, slinking out bed without disturbing the covers, and left the room, wearing joggers. Outside, the crows cawed and the excitement of things to come could almost be heard in the very breath of the earth. Today, Mother Nature gained a king; today, David would don his ceremonial dress and, together, we would spill blood on the Stone.

I knew where he was going when he left—knew he needed to run—needed to clear his head because, in his mind, today marked one of the milestones of his life. He always had great respect for royalty, and to become king was an honour I knew he felt deeper than any of us could understand. But that wasn’t why he went running. He went because this also marked one of the first items in his Inventory of Death. All he needed after today was to get me pregnant so he could have the dagger, and then, he believed, he’d be going to his death—leaving me and our unborn child alone, possibly to fall into Jason’s arms, possibly to get a cat, but eternally and definitely safe from Drake. He loved me that much, loved our future child that much that he was willing to die, never to hold her.

I rolled the covers back and sat up, feeling the summer heat in the floorboards under my toes. Across the room, the long double-breasted white coat David would wear to be crowned in sat on the mannequin—all tailored and cut to fit the future king.

I wandered over and ran my fingers down the gold buttons, over the tasselled epaulettes on the shoulders and across the blue sash. I imagined him standing tall and proud in this outfit; imagined this being the happiest day of our lives—one not spoiled by Drake; imagined telling the truth about what I planned to do with Arthur, so that maybe, when that crown touched his head, he could rejoice his rise as king, not mourn the death he was facing.

“Ara?” The door popped open and David walked in.

“Hey.”

“Hey, why are you awake so early?”

“I was worried about you.”

“Me?” He lifted his shirt off. “Why?”

I shrugged one shoulder.

“Seriously.” He stood beside me, touching my arm. “Why are you worrying, sweetheart? It's not like I have to do the Walk of Faith.”

“I know,” I said, looking away from his toned arms, supressing the urge to throw him down on the bed and… “I'm just worried you might be fighting some battle inside that you’re not telling me about.”

“What makes you say that?” he said very softly, tilting my chin to lift my gaze.

I shrugged again.

“My love.” He swept me inward and cradled me against his bare chest. “I love you, okay. And I'm all right. Everything will be all right.”

“I know it will.” I looked up at him. “Because I'm going to make it all right.”

He stared into my eyes for a long breath, clearly trying to read my thoughts, but all he got was a firm glare, determination hovering over a burn of fight behind them that swore, upon pain of death, I would make this all right. I would not let him go—not let him die to save me. “Ara?”

I looked away. “Like you said. Everything will be all right.”

The manor grounds were coloured with faces from all over the world; vampires, Lilithians and humans—all together, all united to celebrate. I smiled, passing each one as I walked toward the Throne Room, bowing my head to staff and guards, guests and visitors. Everyone was charged with the same kind of excitement, but my smile was a little forced. Though I drew on their energy and could relate it, the deeper concern for David's emotions today was eating all that up.

I stopped by the common room and waltzed inside to where Arthur sat in a chair by the window, staring off thoughtfully into the bright summer day.

“Arthur?”

“My dear.” He reached his hand out.

I took it and sat down on the arm of his chair. “Are you okay?”

“Splendid.”

“You look sad,” I said, cocking my head.

“Thoughtful might be a better word.”

I slid down onto the tiny spot next to him, forcing him to shift over a little. “Are you worried about David?”

He leaned his elbow on the armrest, turning his body slightly to look at me. “I'm more concerned about you, actually.”

“Me? Why?”

“I'm not sure you can go through with this plan—to have a child. And once that crown touches my nephew’s head, you will have no choice—if you want to keep him.”

“I know.” I looked down. “But, I have a bit of a problem.”

“What’s that, my dear?”

“He’s been pressuring me to…make a baby with him, because he wants this dagger. But if I sleep with him, then I might actually fall pregnant and—”

“Don't worry.” He patted my knee. “He’ll stop pushing you now. He and I have come to a new arrangement.”

“What arrangement?”

He cleared his throat quietly as he looked down. “He came to me late last night, fighting his dark conscience—told me he was uncomfortable being forced to create life under the wrong circumstances. He said if he was ever to father a child, it should be out of love, not force, and he asked that I reconsider my conditions.”

“Did you?”

He nodded. “He argued a few very good points.”

“What did you decide?”

“That, instead of the dagger being provided upon conception of an heir, it would be offered on condition he stay a few more days—give you a small sample of the life you deserved to have with him.”

I rested a hand on his forearm, sitting up a little. “Arthur, promise me you won't give him that dagger.”

“I will give it to him—but not the real dagger,” he added quickly when I gasped. “He will leave for Elysium next week under guise of freeing prisoners, and when he gets to Paris, where he’s really going, he will not be able to find Drake.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because the letter the House received, informing that Drake had fled to Paris, was a copy.”

“How do you know?”

“Because the original was sent to me. He wrote me as a friend, announcing his decision to travel around Romania for a month, giving me more time to ‘impregnate’ you.” He held his hands up, smiling. “His words; not mine. Anyway, I forged the letter the House received, and they sent knights to Elysium to confirm Drake was gone.”

“So, David will come back here then—after Paris?”

Arthur nodded. “And by then, you will be pregnant with my heir, and I will name myself king, swear my oath and be in Romania before David even sets foot back on American soil.”

I nodded. “What if I don't fall pregnant, though?”

“Then I will destroy that dagger, because, my dear, David won't rest until he finds it, and I don't believe there is any other way to kill Drake.”

“Not even venom—if we starve him first, break down his immunity?”

He laughed. “No. In the letter Drake sent, he was bragging about a spell he’d successfully used to save his own life after being stabbed with that sword. He said the side-effect was total immunity.”

“You’re kidding?”

He shook his head. “I’d like to get my hands on that spell—or even the witch he uses to write them.”

“He has a witch?”

“She’s a vampire—an old, old woman. I’ve never met her, or even seen her, but he calls her Safia.”

“Safia?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe he has his own witch.”

Arthur smiled softly, one corner of his lip pulling, his eyes distant.

“Good afternoon, Uncle,” David said as he glided into the room.

“David, my boy, all ready for the big event?”

I looked up at him where he stopped by the chair. “Just have to dress, but—can I borrow my lovely wife for a moment?”

“Of course.” Arthur shuffled aside a little more, motioning for David to take me.

“Thanks.” He scooped me up in his arms like a child. “I’ll bring her back in ten, if you still need her.”

“It’s fine.” He smiled warmly, resting his knuckles by his lips. “You can keep her.”

David bowed and walked us out into the open corridor.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I want you to help me get my ceremonial dress on.”

“We have staff for that.”

“I know.” He smiled into my brow. “But I want as much time with you as I can get.”

“Before what?”

“Before…nothing.” He kissed the tip of my nose, nodding at Jason, who flashed his obviously well-practiced fake smile as we passed. “I just want to spend time with you. That’s all right, isn't it?”

I snuggled into him, swinging my arm over his neck, holding on tight. “As long as it’s forever.”

“Forever is all we ever wanted.”

“Say you promise,” I said, pressing my nose right to his.

He stopped walking. “Promise what?”

“Say you promise forever.”

His shoulders became straighter, his breath quiet. “I…I promise.”

“Promise what?” I grinned.

His smiling eyes went a little wider. “I promise not to drop you.”

I squealed as he let go of me, catching me just before I hit the ground. “You butt-wipe.” I slapped his chest.

He laughed, standing up again, holding me just a little tighter this time. “I love you, Ara.”

“I love you, too.”

What should have been the happiest breath I took, came in as more of a sigh—the joy spoiled by the deep, hidden pain in David's eyes. I offered a smile, but he couldn't rise above the sadness enough to return one. It was the first real sign he’d given of the things he was suffering inside.

He’d been fine as we dressed together, laughing about things we’d not laughed about since I was human, and while I stood in front of him, naked, he’d dropped to his knees and pressed his cool lips to the rash on my hip, moving sweetly soft kisses up to my ribs and over the Mark of my promise—the same line he might have soon. But as the day wore on and the sun began to sink in the sky, he grew quiet and thoughtful.

I stepped back, pinching the open vein in my arm, and David reached down to take my hand as we spoke the words of our vow, feeling the light of Mother Nature fill our souls with warmth. I didn't remember feeling this when I took my oath, but it felt like the way Mike described it; as if someone injected hot coffee down the artery in your neck and let it pass through every limb, stopping in your heart like a happy feeling.

The darkness in David’s eyes faded a little then, as he spoke the last words of his promise; “To give my life in service of my people and my queen.”

Across from us, Emily and Morg hugged Mike’s chest, while Blade and Falcon watched on like proud uncles, and Arthur stood almost centre to it all—my foundation—the strong knight that would save the world, save my people—save my husband.

David's fingers tightened ever so slightly on mine, and I felt the heat charge his skin, the Mark of his promise coming to life somewhere underneath. He felt it, too—felt the burn, felt the power, but showed no distress, no emotion, like a good king.

Then, as if by some secret cue, our people moved—parted to make way for us. We bowed to the Stone and started off between Bert and Boris, hand in hand. We weren’t allowed to speak until the crown touched David's head, but we didn't need to. I knew he was smiling at me because he thought I looked beautiful in my white ball gown, with my hair falling down in curls under my crown. And he knew I was smiling at him because I was so proud to be beside him; so proud of everything he’d become—everything he’d sacrificed to make this day possible.

I lifted his hand and kissed his palm, tasting the blood of his promise on my lips, thinking, I love you.

He reached out then and smoothed the blood away, leaning across to kiss the remains. “Love you, too,” he whispered so quietly, his lips shaping his breath as words no one else would hear.

I looked up in surprise. Did you hear me?

And he just smiled—his secret smile growing into a radiant grin. My heart fluttered the whole way then as we walked the path of red and white roses at our feet, past the people and the marble columns, down the crimson carpet and took the stairs to the thrones.