Born of Silence

  She'd saved his life.

  His head was still throbbing and much of what had happened was foggy, but one memory was crystal clear. The sound of her angry voice over the roar of the flames around him.

  "Don't you dare die on me, Darling Cruel! I swear I'll follow you into hell to beat you if you do!"

  He was a psycho bastard to have that mean so much to him. But it meant everything.

  She really did love him.

  And the truth was, he loved her, too. More than he could believe. More than he could stand at times.

  For her, he would do anything.

  So why did it have to hurt so much? Be so damned hard?

  Because people let each other down. Always. No matter how much they love each other, someone always screws up.

  And the more you love them, the deeper it stings...

  It was a natural state of being. No one could ever live up to the expectations of someone else. Sooner or later, everyone failed and he was too tired of being disappointed to keep up the pretense that he wasn't.

  She didn't disappoint you in this.

  No, but it still didn't erase the past when she had, and in a much bigger way.

  Why couldn't you have opened the door then, Z?

  As bad as the fire had been, it was nothing compared to the months of hell her people had put him through.

  Her actions today didn't ease that part of him. You're not perfect yourself, you know?

  True. He'd done his own share of hurt where she was concerned. And she'd forgiven him for it, so why couldn't he do the same for her?

  Because I'm a monster.

  Physically and mentally.

  But worse than that, he was an ass...

  Zarya came awake to someone stroking her hair. Happiness shot through her as she realized what it meant. Lifting her head, she stared into those deep blue eyes that belonged to the most important person in her world. Never had she seen anything better. "How do you feel?"

  "Did one of you drop me on my head?"

  She laughed. "We only thought about it. Is your sight better?"

  Nodding, he turned his head to look at the clock. "How long was I out?"

  She cringed, not wanting to tell him. But he had a right to know and it wasn't like he wouldn't find out eventually. "Well... let me put it to you this way. You should be having surgery right now."

  He handled the news better than she'd expected. It took a few seconds as he digested it, then he sighed. "Is it morning?"

  "Yes."

  Darling ran through his mind the fact that he'd been out for two days. While it didn't thrill him, there wasn't anything he could do about it... other than shoot Syn.

  Maybe later.

  Right now, he wanted to focus on the soft body pressed against his and on other matters he needed to attend to. "What have I missed?"

  She wrinkled her nose and gave a playful cringe. "Mostly family tantrums."

  His stomach tightened with dread. Please tell me they're not here. Please... "Pardon?"

  As always, his luck fled out the door faster than a thief who'd just tripped an alarm.

  "Your siblings are all here. Under one roof. Now I know why you chose not to have them around you while you healed. They can be... interesting, as I'm sure you know."

  That he did. A multitude of adjectives went through his head for all three of them, and he was grateful she was being judicious and kind with her choice of words where they were concerned. Seldom was he so considerate. "I'm sorry you've had to deal with them."

  "Don't be. Sorche's here, too. I'd much rather deal with your family drama than mine."

  The catch in her voice concerned him. "Why is she here? Did something happen?"

  Zarya shook her head. "She heard the same news report your sibs did and flipped out, thinking you were holding me here against my will. But I've got her calmed down and Gera gave her a room not far from Lise's. I hope you don't mind."

  "Not at all. Your sister's always welcome here." Even though he'd never met Sorche, he felt like he knew her as much as he knew his own family. Most of all, since she was one of Zarya's favorite topics, he knew how much Sorche meant to her. For that reason alone, he'd be more than happy to set her up with a permanent residence here in the palace.

  He rubbed his hand over his brow as he heard a dull roar through the walls. "What's that sound?" He would think it was his brothers and sister fighting, but there were too many voices for it to be the three of them.

  And it wasn't loud enough to be Lise.

  "What sound?"

  He squinted as he listened again, trying to decipher it. "It sounds like people shouting."

  "Oh." She bit her lip before she answered. "It is people shouting."

  "And they're shouting... why?"

  He saw the reluctance in her eyes. "You know the old adage, a single drop starts the deluge?"

  "Yeah."

  Zarya propped herself up on her elbow to look at him as she traced a small circle on his chest... one that was slowly making him crazy with lust as he wished she'd dip that hand lower and cup him. "Once word spread that you'd been attacked and were down, the people started rioting for every grievance they've ever had against you, your family, and their lives. Your gerents have no idea how to handle it, and Ryn is about ready to rally Tavali forces to put them down and shut them up--my paraphrasing, mind you. Ryn's language was much more... colorful and descriptive."

  That sounded like his brother. When diplomacy failed, kill them all and let the gods sort it out. 'Course his wasn't much better. In fact, the only thing that really separated their philosophies was that Ryn wanted guns while Darling preferred high explosives. "Where's Ryn now?"

  "Downstairs meeting with a group of social delegates."

  Well, that iced his raging hormones. Damn...

  Darling groaned out loud. "That's like asking a predator to guard prey." And he was the idiot who'd appointed Ryn to the position.

  What was I thinking?

  Basically that he had no one else he could trust.

  Cursing himself for that particular piece of brilliance, he sat up and ignored the pain that burned through him.

  Zarya scowled. "What are you doing?"

  "Going to save my empire while I still have one."

  She scooted off the bed to stop him. "You can't. Syn needs to--"

  "Zarya," he said firmly, interrupting her. "Please. I can't fight everyone at once."

  Growling her own frustration at him, she held her hands up in surrender. "Fine. What do you need me to do?"

  "Help me dress."

  Zarya paused at his suggestion. The last thing he needed to do was walk into a room full of people who wanted him dead. People who were itching for a chance to assault him, verbally and physically.

  A wicked smile curled her lips as an idea struck her on how to keep him out of harm's way for a little longer.

  She walked up to him and wrapped her arm around his neck, then pulled his head down so that she could nibble his lips while she gently scooted her right hand into his pants to fondle him. Her smile widened as she realized he was already hard and wet.

  Pulling back, she whispered seductively, "Dress or undress you, my lord?"

  Darling's head swam as fire ran through his veins. Her fingers felt so good on him that it was hard to stay focused on duty. Especially when she dipped her hand down to cup and finger him.

  Yeah, he'd much rather stay here with her.

  Something that wasn't helped as she sank down to her knees in front of him and opened his pants.

  You stop her now and I'll kill you.

  But he had an empire to run. His id could wait.

  No, I can't.

  Yes, it could.

  His legs went weak as she took him into her mouth and unmitigated pleasure tore through his entire being. For a full minute, he reeled from it.

  The voices outside grew louder, reminding him of the job that awaited him.

  Fuck the empire and everyone in it... br />
  Yeah, that would be an intensely bad idea.

  He really hated that stupid notion of the "empire comes first" his father had drilled into him as he forced himself to step back from her. The sight of her licking her lips in an open invitation was enough to kill him.

  Stamping down the fire in his blood, he narrowed his eyes at her. "You are devious. Don't think I'm not on to you."

  Any other time, it would work. But he couldn't allow her to distract him today or to know just how much power she ultimately had over him. He was completely weak and pliant when it came to her.

  "Fine," she snapped irritably, rising to her feet. "Freshen up and I'll get your clothes ready."

  Before he stepped away, he pulled her into his arms to give her the hottest kiss he could manage. One that had her wrapping her arms around him and clutching at his back. When he forced himself to pull away again, she was breathless.

  Blinking, she stared at him with a hunger in her eyes that matched his.

  He ran his hand along her jaw. "Don't you hate it when someone stirs a fire you can't quench?"

  She narrowed those amber eyes at him. "You better be glad I'm still not over the close call you just had. Otherwise, I'd make you pay for that."

  He grinned at her before he went to take a quick ice cold shower.

  Darling hesitated before he opened the doors to the throne room. What if Zarya was right and his presence here worsened things? His people hated him. He knew that better than anyone. The plebs saw him as a selfish, entitled prick out to work them until they dropped while he became richer and richer off their backs. The aristos thought he was spineless and weak, and they laughed at him to his face. Thanks to Senator Nylan, Arturo, and his own desperate stupidity, none of them had even a modicum of respect for him.

  Both groups viewed him with the utmost disdain.

  Worse, his mask had been destroyed in the attack. If he walked in there, he would do it with all scars showing.

  With Pip's name carved into my face.

  Shame shredded his confidence while unwanted memories flogged him. Fingering his cheek, he stepped back and traced the raised scar. Even with his beard over it, it was plainly visible. Their contempt for him would only grow once they saw what had been done to him while he'd been powerless to stop it.

  How helpless and pathetic he really was. If he couldn't protect himself, how could he protect his people? That's exactly what they'll say.

  He winced as he remembered his guard corps spitting at his feet.

  They all disdain me.

  I can't do this. I can't be laughed at again.

  In that one lonely heartbeat, every degradation and humiliation of his entire life slapped him hard in the face. He heard the laughter and ridicule that had been shoved down his throat since the day his father had died.

  No one respected Darling Cruel.

  I'm the punch line of all cocktail party jokes.

  He closed his eyes in an attempt to blot it all out, and instead what he saw was his own brother's face as Drake sneered his contempt for him.

  "I don't have to listen to you. You're not my father. You barely qualify as my brother. I swear, Lise has more testosterone than you do. You're just a worthless piece of shit who cowers and grovels every time Arturo gets near you. I refuse to be like you, so pathetic, wasted, and scared that my own guards mock me for it. I will not give up or give in, and I damn sure won't belly crawl for someone else. So why don't you go find a cock to suck on, and get out of my face. Let me show you how a man handles things."

  He flinched at Drake's angry words that'd been hurled at him when he'd tried one last time to stop Drake from confronting Arturo over embezzling part of their inheritance.

  Only fifteen, Drake had thought himself man enough to fight.

  And after Arturo had almost killed him for his adolescent stupidity and left the boy in intensive care, Darling had made the mistake of going to Ryn.

  "You have to help us. Even though you're illegitimate, you're a direct blood descendant from the governor. The CDS can make a special accommodation for you to rule until I turn thirty."

  Just like Drake, Ryn had sneered in his face. "Forget it. You're not dragging me back into that backbiting shithole. I've had enough of it. I don't want your throne or anything else to do with Caronese politics. For the first time in my life, I'm happy and I intend to stay that way." Ryn had tried to make him leave Ryn's apartment, but Darling had refused to go.

  "He's going to kill them, Ryn. Don't you understand? They won't listen to me at all. Not my mother or Drake. No matter how much I beg or threaten them. Drake's only getting worse as he gets older. He thinks he can take Arturo head on. And I'm tired of running interference between them. Of deflecting Arturo's anger to me so he'll leave them alone. Please? I can't take it anymore. I can't. I'm through being their punching bag. I just want to go to sleep one night in my shitty life and feel safe. Is that really too much to ask?"

  Darling had gestured to his arm that Arturo had shattered when Darling had stupidly tried to kill him for what he'd done to Drake. "I'm still underage by our laws. And none of the other aristos will do anything to help us. Believe me, I've tried. The gerents are all too afraid of Arturo to back me without a stronger man to come in as my guardian. You told me that you'd be here if I needed you. I need you, big brother. We all do. Please, don't do this to me. I'm begging you for mercy."

  Ryn shook his head in continual denial. "I love you, Darling. I do. But I'm not about to let you or anyone else drag me back to that hellhole. I'm not a politician and I don't want to be one. Just go home where you belong. They're your family, not mine. You deal with their psycho asses."

  In that second of panicked desperation, Darling had looked down at the scars on his wrists from when he'd tried to kill himself and, like Drake, he'd let his fury get the better of his tongue. He didn't want to go back either. It wasn't fair that Ryn had his freedom while he'd have to wait more than another decade for his. He was tired and frustrated.

  Most of all, he was through with being the sole defender while he had an older brother who should have been willing to help them.

  Just as Drake had done to him, he'd verbally gone for Ryn's throat. "So that's it then? Captain Tavali. Lord Badass. At the end of the day, you're nothing but a selfish, scared asshole just like all the others in your family. I wonder what your friends would think if they knew what a spineless coward you really are?"

  Darling had known exactly the buttons he was pushing and why they stung Ryn so badly. He shouldn't have done it.

  But he'd wanted to hurt Ryn the way Ryn had hurt him by refusing to help. And it was too late to take those words back. Once they were out, they'd been a deadly challenge.

  One Ryn had met with a furious snarl. He'd whirled on Darling then and grabbed him. They'd started fighting like two rabid animals. A fight that ended several minutes later when Ryn lifted Darling off his feet and threw him into the glass dining table. Because of his shattered arm that was in a sling and the other that was braced due to a sprain, Darling had been unable to catch himself. As a result, his face had taken the brunt of the fall.

  In all the vicious beatings he'd had over the years, never had he seen so much blood. Felt more pain. The glass had torn through his body like a thousand razors. It'd taken the medics over half an hour to extract him from the broken pieces.

  The whole time they worked to save him, Darling had prayed he'd finally bleed out and die.

  But the gods had never been merciful to him.

  Ryn had apologized repeatedly the entire time they pulled him from the glass and metal, but just like the angry words that had flown between all of them, it was too late to take it back. The damage had been done and it was permanent.

  Their relationship had never recovered from that night. They were both ashamed of what they'd said and done.

  Now those memories paralyzed Darling as he saw his reflection in the marble wall in front of him and he cringed inwardly.

&
nbsp; His mother was right. He was hideous and disgusting.

  Too ugly to look at.

  Arturo's insults rang in his ears. They mingled with the hostile words and shouts he could hear coming from inside the throne room as his brother fought with the plebs.

  But as his gaze went to the state portrait of his father that hung to his left, he remembered the brave little boy who'd stood at his father's tomb and had vowed that he would keep the things his father treasured most safe from harm.

  The wife his father had loved above all things.

  The children who'd been the pride of his heart.

  And the empire that he'd worried and slaved over.

  I won't let them suffer without you, Papa. I swear. I'll be the man you wanted me to be. No matter what, I will make you proud.

  Darling had fought hard to protect his mother and siblings. Now it was time to keep the last part of that promise.

  Taking a deep breath for courage, he lifted the cowl on his royal dark blue and gold robes so that it covered his head and shielded his face, then headed for the doors.

  The moment they swung open, every eye in the room turned toward him. Wanting to run for shelter, Darling raised his chin and let the rank and mantle of noblesse oblige settle firmly on his shoulders.

  This was what he'd been bred and trained for.

  And as he stood there, he heard his father's voice in his head. "The past is history written in stone that can't be altered. The future is transitory and never guaranteed. Today is the only thing you can alter for certain. Make the most of it."

  Ryn, who had changed out of his pirate gear in favor of imperial robes, rose from the throne where he'd been acting as pro tem. Maris, Drake, Syn, Hauk, and two other gerents stood to his left while a small group of plebs were on the right. His older brother bowed down before him. "Your Majesty."

  The others followed suit.

  Once they righted themselves, there was an absolute chill in the air as they faced him. Yeah, he was as welcome here as a fatal STD in a whorehouse.

  But that didn't change the fact that he was their governor and this was his duty.

  Darling focused his blurry gaze on the tall, skinny pleb standing closest to Ryn. He'd lay money that he was their leader. So he was the one Darling addressed first. "Care to enlighten me as to why you were shouting at my pro tem?"

  The plebs paled. But the tall one didn't shirk in spite of his obvious fear. He took a step forward. "My name is Gerst. Svidan Gerst, Your Majesty. And we're from the workers' coalition." A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. "We are asking that our workday be shortened. Right now, we're working eighteen-hour days with no time off for illness or recuperation."