Chapter 6 6

DRAVEN'S POV

I followed her retreat with my eyes, each jagged step of it, as she left the council chamber. The girl was spazzed, but even she wasn't as interesting to me as this totally primal force had been a couple of seconds back. The sound of the earth splitting beneath her feet, how the foundations had trembled so many centuries old at her distress. It was beautiful and it was just what I needed.

“Margalit, read this mess up," I instructed the housemaids milling about at the door. They all scampered forward and quickly picked up the bits of broken fragments that were scattered about on the marble floor.

I returned my gaze to where Aria had been, focusing on the time that strange marking of hers had come alive. The power had been unfiltered, unplanned. It was raw emotion in the flesh, and it said everything I needed to know. The girl had no idea what she could do and that made her both invaluable and incredibly vulnerable”

The prophecy had said the Heart of the Veil would return, but prophecies never mentioned the messy bits in between. Such as how her powers linked back into her emotions, or how someone who controlled those emotions would have total control over what she could do.

I stepped towards the window and I looked out at the blood red sky that perpetually covered Noctra. Recollections of memories flash in my mind, as unwelcome and persistent guest. I recalled her face from a previous incarnation, how she used to look into my eyes with total trust before it all fell apart.

My chest ached as it always had, bitterly and painfully. It’s the curse trying to lean on me and making me pay for focusing too much on shit that’s buried. I closed my eyes and put a hand over the part of me that hurt, willing it away.

"Still pretending you're not feeling anything, vampire?"

I didn't have to look over my shoulder to know that Ronan came in. The pungent aroma of dirty Lycan King preceded him as usual. I heard him in the chamber, boots crunching on shattered stone.

“You’re still as subtle as ever,” I said while looking at the horizon.

"And your manipulation remains transparent." Ronan appeared at the edges of my vision, his eyes burning gold with contempt. His jaw was locked, the cords in his neck bulging with tension. You activated the first seal without consulting us. “You tied her to all four of us and left her with no real choice — you, or us.”

“The seal had to be kept on her to keep her alive,” I replied, spinning slowly on my heel until I was looking directly into his eyes. "Or would you of had her work herself to death? That we’ll lose her all over again before we’ve even started?”

“You’re not doing this out of the goodness of your heart.” Ronan edged closer, his hands forming into fists. “You had a chance to bind her for eternity, to ensure none of us could have her without the others. This was about control, Draven. It’s always about control with you.”

Before I could answer the temperature dropped a few degrees. Kael appeared as if from nowhere and the slight ripple of Fae magic preceded his arrival. He was immaculate as always, his pale hair shimmering in the low light.

“Gentlemen,” he began silkily, his voice slipping in like honey over glass. "Maybe we could talk about this instead of kicking the crap out of each other? I’ve rather taken to this council chamber."

Ronan growled at the Fae King. “Stay out of this, all beautiful and shit.”

"Oh, but it does concern me." Kael’s grin did not move, yet something cold flashed in his eyes. "We're all bound to her now. We need one common strategy for dealing with our reborn goddess, not these endless squabblings.”

"Handling?" There was a low menacing chuckle from the shadows. Lucien came to the front of the stage, his red eyes dancing with laughter. “Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”

The Demon King seemed relaxed, almost bored ― but I knew better. Lucien had never been more deadly than when he looked most relaxed. He stood with his back against the wall, arms folded.

All of you are dancing around the issue," Lucien added, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "You're terrified. Fearful of losing her again, fearful of the feeling you had before. The least you can do is acknowledge it.”

The silence which then ensued was oppressive. Because he was right, and we all knew it.

I squared my shoulders and looked them in the eyes. "The seal was necessary. Yes, it connects her to all of us. But it also keeps her alive, and one of us from owning her entirely. The balance must be maintained."

"Balance." Ronan spat the word out as if it were a curse. “We’re all scavengers getting scraps of her attention. And now you've made it so that one of us grows stronger when someone else has become too strong."

"It was always a fight," Kael interposed softly. "From the moment she returned. You didn't really think any of us would sit back and let you have what we all deserve, did you?”

It was from the middle of the room where the cracks arranged themselves in some type of sigil around Aria's position. "Then we adapt. And while there are bigger threats on the horizon, we just can’t continue to rip each other apart. The veil is growing weaker, and now she’s here, unguarded and untrained.”

"On the subject of which threats," Lucien said, coming off the wall and looking more sober. "Has anyone else felt it? What was rustling in the shadow, what murmuring behind the veil?”

I shuddered, but I would never tell anyone. I knew what it was, something that should not exist, something old and evil waking in between worlds.

“We have to protect her," Kael notices, for the first time nothing in it is a lie. “Whatever’s coming, she’s not ready for it.”

Ronan snarled, low, but didn’t protest. Even as bitter enemies, even cursed by our mutual hatred, we were compelled to depend upon one another. For now.

"Agreed," I said finally. "But understand this. I'm going to make sure she gets through this, that's for sure. Even if it means making some choices that you don’t agree with.”

"How noble," Lucien drawled. "The vampire with a conscience. I almost believe you."

I passed over his barb, half turning for the door. "This meeting is over. Yous guys better get back to your kingdoms and start workin’ on it. The girl will desperately need training, protection, guidance.”

I left them there, my footfalls ringing as I headed toward my private apartments. The talk had been exhausting, and I needed solitude to think, to plan.

My rooms were dark and cold with only a few candles flickering. I reached for the sideboard and poured myself some blood wine, which oozed thickly and black into the crystal.

I took a few slow sips, then walked to the back wall. My fingers discovered the hidden catch, and a door creaked open soundlessly, exposing a chamber I had hidden for generations.

A portrait hung inside, old and faded, but still beautiful. Her face stared back at me. Celeste, like she’d been with us in our human lives. Her dark hair was curls, and her hazel eyes held all the warmth of the sun. She was smiling, truly happy for the first time in thousands of years.

I stretched my hand toward it, fingers hovering an inch away from the canvas. The memories came unbidden. I recalled the way she had regarded me, all trust and perhaps some feeling that might have been love. I recalled thinking then that I could shield her from the others, from the shadows that swallowed us all.

And I thought about the instant when trust had faltered.

An ache pierced my chest, sharp and cruel. I stepped back, one hand to my side, where the curse felt the most unbearable. The cost of remembering, of feeling so much. The gods had made certain we would never forget our transgressions.

I made myself breathe through it until it finally started to ease up. So when I was able to think straight again, I turned around and stared at the portrait.

“This time it’ll be different,” I whispered to the empty space. “And this next time, I’ll be the one you pick. Even if I have to twist every possible opportunity. You'll be mine, Aria. Completely and utterly mine."

I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the bump of skin beneath my shirt where my own mark was concealed. Burned into my flesh a hundred years before that, by my own crescent moon. It beat now, a reminder that we were connected through centuries.

Just then fast footsteps sounded from without, and I was about to shut the concealed panel. Just seconds later, there was a heavy pounding on my door.

I got control of myself fast and slid the panel back into place. "Enter."

My men laughing barge in, their faces white as sheets and full of terror. He was breathing heavily as if he’d run the entire length.

“My lord,” he panted, bowing deeply. "There's been an incident. The human girl, she has fallen again.”

My blood ran cold. I was on my way to the door already. "Where is she?"

"In her chambers, my lord. We found her unconscious, but...” His voice trailed off, and the silence made my gut instincts flare as red alert.

"But what?" I snarled, my voice lowered to a deadly whisper.

The servant cleared his throat, hands shaking as rattling reeds. "But this time, my lord, there's another in her room. Someone we don't recognize. Somebody who shouldn't be able to get through your wards.”