He glanced down at the blade. “Sadly, precious, attempting to kill me would bring more harm to you than it would to me. Come with me.”
“Keep dreaming.”
“I’ve already seen the end, Madison. You are out of time to make the right decision.” And with that, he vanished.
“My knife,” Aden said as he took it from me. “If you want him dead, say the word.” I felt his rage as his eyes glanced over me.
“What?”
“Did you even bother to look into his mind?”
“Why would I bother with that? All I ever see is myself. It’s like looking in a warped mirror.”
“Not this time. In his thoughts, I saw him witness your death a hundred times over. The bastard was right about one thing.”
“Which was?”
“He was here when this happened the first time, Drake was. The only one that fought for your life was Britain.”
I tried to see it through Aden, but with my jacked up way of visualizing I could only glimpse fragments, pieces that did not tell me enough to take sides on this matter. But I trusted Aden. He would never defend Britain. What the hell happened here?
“He is right about the vessel, too. Britain witnessed a conversation between Alamos and Xavier. They are still focused on pairing Willow with Drake. You are a threat to some master plan they have.”
“Aden, I lack the ability to feel shock, grief, or fear. They can plot whatever they want. That is their business, not mine. I’m concerned with the mystery of my past at the current moment.”
Aden’s eyes were full of judgment. He was clearly wondering how much truth existed in my words.
I glanced down; the water was black now. The manifestation of this place had been damaged. The only way for me to see what was behind that octopus was by going for a swim, and I wasn’t doing that until I could see where I was going.
“Did you find what you needed?” I asked Aden.
“Yeah, let’s go,” he said as his brooding green eyes cascaded over the dark water.
Within the next breath, we were back.
Chapter Thirteen
~Madison~
I took in a deep breath. Once my soul found my body in the library Aden and I were sitting in, I let those nasty insecurities surface briefly. I could still hear Britain’s voice in my head telling me this wing, the room I was given, belonged to Willow. I hated having that boy in my head.
Truth be told, he had almost convinced me not to go with Charlie when Willow came for us. I listened to my heart then. I needed to do that now, but it was hard. I had every reason not to trust Drake…but right now…he was the only one I did trust to protect me from this curse I was born with.
I went to ask Aden what he found, but he held his hand up to stop me as his eyes soared to the doorway. I glanced over my shoulder to see Alamos standing in the threshold of the library, only now there was no stench of sulfur in the air and his aged face was clear—not a wave of ink in sight. Now if that wasn’t confusing, I didn’t know what was.
“May I?” Alamos said with a nod, asking for permission to come in.
I nodded weakly. Aden stood with me, moving his eyes between Alamos and me, trying to see what version of Alamos I was seeing now.
When Alamos reached us, his gaze echoed the warm pride I swore I could feel coming from him. “I know that we have opened Drake’s calendar to give everyone time to adjust to your arrival, but I am afraid that we are going to have to appease the court tonight.”
“Meaning?” Aden asked coldly, still not trusting Alamos.
“Meaning that they saw him pass through the palace before. They were under the impression that he was in deep mourning all this time. Now that he has made an appearance, we need to have a meal with the inner circle.”
“Have you spoken to Drake?” I asked as I saw flashes that, in part, revealed my question. Drake did go to his study. The conversation looked tense, but I could not hear the words they spoke. I watched as Alamos went to get something, leaving Drake to roam his study alone.
“I have. He asked me to remove something.”
“Something?” I muttered, wondering if it was that tattoo, if Drake had really flipped his switch that quickly.
“Yes,” Alamos said as he looked down. “I have wronged him in so many ways, but my intentions were meant to aid him, protect him from suffering my path. It has been made clear that I was in fact fooled by my former king.”
“What did you do to him?” I demanded.
“Dreams,” Aden answered me first. Alamos nodded to confirm.
“After he was born, we took a part of his umbilical cord. It is said in ancient times that the soul was also nourished from that point. It held great power—it was what we used to extract past moments of his soul, and later what we used to create the dreams we wanted him to live out.”
“Why would you do that to a child?” I breathed as I held back the urge to rip him into tiny shreds.
“He was no child. Never has been. Donalt had me convinced that evil forces were going to once again take his fated love from him. He urged me to enforce the bond Drake had, he told me Drake would have to fight, that his lover had been spelled at birth.”
“And what exactly did you do to him today?” I asked as I saw flashes that showed Drake around candles, a bowl of herbs before him.
“I removed the spell—the loop of dreams that we wanted him to experience. When he was a child, Donalt would monitor his thoughts, and more than once he asked me to remove a dream from the cycle that Drake was living through.”
“And what good does that do now?”
“Now, well now, his mind will dream without the scenes fragmenting. He will clearly hear his own soul. Honestly, I should have done this for him as soon as Donalt fell…but at the time I knew this dimension needed a queen to protect our king, so I left them in place.”
“There is more to it,” I muttered as I tried to gauge what I was seeing around Alamos and Drake’s discussion.
“Tell her what he said. Let her hear it from you,” Aden all but demanded.
Alamos cleared his throat. “Drake stated that he didn’t want another woman beyond the one his soul belonged to in his mind.”
“And you complied?” I asked as I tilted my head and questioned exactly what he had done to Drake, as I questioned if Drake, after today, was still testing me.
On the inside, I scorned myself, told myself that Britain had planted that mistrust inside me, and I was not going to give him the pleasure of having me suffer through the painful suspecting thoughts.
“I never meant to hurt him. I was fooled, too. And like it or not, Willow did share a past with him. I did not fabricate that. I was very clear with him on that point.”
“Are you trying to make me mad?” I questioned, as if the last thing I would be jealous of was who was in Drake’s past. I didn’t trust Alamos. Not after what I saw before.
“No, I’m trying to honor my king. I only want him to be with the person that shares his soul.”
Aden and I glanced at one another. We knew for a fact that he and Xavier were plotting to take my vessel. The question became then, was Alamos on stage before us now?
“What dinner?” Aden asked dryly as he pulled his shoulders back. He wasn’t going to let either one of us walk into a trap. “Draven is busy. He is not going to pause his life every time you need to fabricate something for the bastards in the court.”
“We have you,” Alamos stated as he glanced at him. “Though your energy is vastly different, we are in mourning, so everyone’s should be altered. This is a silent meal. Words are still prohibited as we reflect. All you have to do is sit at a table and eat.” He grimaced. “Well, you may not eat.”
“Old man, speak clear,” Aden breathed out.
“You are a guest here. The king—or prince, rather—will sample the course. If he finds it unfitting, he will cross his dinner wear over his plate. Neither the pair of you nor he will eat or drink; however, the inner circle
will.”
“Starving the company?” Aden bantered.
“No, saving them. It is an old tradition. The court eats to endure the suffering that was meant for the guest.”
Aden raised his hand to his firm stomach. I could only guess he was starving and not in the mood for Russian roulette with dinner.
“It should not take too much out of your night. Then we can discuss whatever you are researching,” Alamos said as he glanced to the ancient blueprints on the table.
“I’m good,” Aden answered flatly.
“If you have any questions, feel free to seek me out. I rarely come out of my study. My understudies didn’t realize who you were when you came before.”
“No worries.”
Alamos nodded. “I’ll wait in the hall while you dress. Simple black gown.”
“Do we not need Olivia and Chrispin, or even Charlie?” I questioned. Before, they were like our guards or ambassadors. I wasn’t sure why Aden and I were invited to this dinner and no one else.
“I mentioned this is a quaint dinner. Normally I would just need Aden, but I feel that if you are there it will solidify that our intentions are to proceed with the courting of you to our king. Of course, the royal guard will be lining the room.”
Good. That meant at least Chrispin would be there. Zander, too. I kinda owed him one. I never would have forgiven Drake for what I saw in that girl if he had not prepared me for it.
“Drake knows I am going to be there?” I pushed. I had the impression that he didn’t want anyone to know where his interests were—but then again, for all I knew Drake was playing me just as Britain had predicted.
“He was not pleased. But there are gambles we all must take if we are to win in the end.”
Aden glanced down at his jeans and band shirt. “I’m going to change.”
Alamos followed him out.
As I went to change, too, a thousand questions were cascading through my mind. Why would Drake send Alamos to tell me about this? He knew I had a problem with Alamos. Why was Britain there at my first death? Would they really want to steal my vessel? Is that what Drake wants? Is it my soul he is pulled to, or my image? Was this childhood trauma even worth chasing? Should I bail, run home to my normal life? I could deal with the dark whispers, the shadows; they were never this trying on my soul.
I found a dress that was a lot like that robe I had on before. It was a little bit thinner, but still too hot for my comfort. I was sure I was supposed to wear a slip or something under it, but I opted for fitted briefs and a tank top. I tucked the locket against my skin.
In the bathroom, I found combs to hold my hair in a French twist. I didn’t bother with more makeup than what was needed to highlight my features. There was a jewelry box on the vanity. Most of it was costume jewelry that I rarely wore but was usually lying all around my room at home. I found a chain that looked close enough to my locket and put it on in an attempt to hide the real one. There was a charm on there, but it was nothing more than a silver circle.
When I decided that I looked elegant enough for whatever this was, I left my room.
I found Aden and Alamos by the doors that lead out. Aden looked amazing; the black modern suit he was wearing made him look far older and reserved than I knew him to be. “My drummer boy in a suit,” I teased. Aden rolled his eyes as he smoothed out his tie.
“Suppose you have the keys to that?” I said dryly to Alamos.
He looked at me like I was insane. “I was not aware that it was sealed.”
“Did you pass through a cold ghost to get in here?”
His perplexed expression told me that he hadn’t. “Is Donalt targeting you now?”
“Does it matter if he is?”
“I suppose not,” Alamos said as he pushed the lever next to the steel bar, causing it to rise. The doors opened on their own in that instant.
Aden smirked at me, but I ignored him as I took his arm. He was now on stage with us, too. Days ago when I was brought here, Draven played the role of a distant king. I was his sister and Charlie was his counterpart. Draven was chosen to play that part because his energy mirrored Drake’s in some way—and well, at the time Aden was MIA.
When we reached the next set of double doors, we found Chrispin and Zander, along with seven other men; though their energy was peaceful, they each held the ‘you don’t want to cross me’ attitude in their stern expressions. Aden and I took our place in the center of them as Alamos led the way.
I was going to have to figure out how to ditch these guards later. I had to be covert if I was going to uncover anything in this vast palace.
I would swear to you that each time I walked through this palace, I was never taken the same way. It was like a enormous maze; too many rooms looked too similar to the others.
We must have walked close to a mile before we reached another massive double doorway. Men in black robes were guarding it; with a nod from Alamos, they bowed, then opened the doors for us to walk through.
The aroma of sulfur was so thick that it nearly made me gag.
Inside, just a few feet before us was a table no less than a hundred feet long. There were other guests already in place. I recognized Xavier at the other end of the table. He was seated near the throne at the head of the empty end of the table. The other guests were a mix of men and women. Of course, the only way I could tell they were women was by the cleavage they were displaying. All their faces were a wave of ink, much like the majority of the men.
Alamos escorted Aden and me to the end of the table closest to us. There, two chairs with high backs were placed. Once we approached, the other guests stood silently. Aden and I stood before our chairs as our guards lined up behind us.
I was at a loss at this point, not sure if I should sit or stand. I took Aden’s lead because I was still holding his arm. There was no way he could smell what I smelled and not be making some kind of face, or even tensing. What was up with the sensitivity of my nose lately?
A moment later, in the silence of the room an echo danced across the walls: footsteps. The doorway at the other end of the room opened.
My heart stopped. Drake was there in all of his decadence. His suit was black, but the collar was short, very modern and sleek. His hair was not waywardly tossed to the side, but combed perfectly into place making him look like the regal king he was destined to become.
With dominant grace, he walked to his throne. His dark eyes didn’t bother to connect with anyone. I could feel the coldness in his energy from where I stood. Yet, fire bloomed in my core as I remembered our day together. I was hoping that the addictive aroma of mint or even roses would help cover the stench in the air, but he was just too far away. Not breathing became my only option if I were going to avoid vomiting in front of all of these people.
Once Drake reached his throne and nodded once, everyone else took their seats allowing me to assess the people I was all but forced to dine with.
The chair next to Xavier was vacant, leading me to wonder if Drake had followed through on his word and asked that Horace man to leave the palace.
Alamos was in the seat across from Xavier, and the glares they passed would be hard to miss by anyone—which was confusing considering that I knew at some point the pair of them had plotted together. The question was, who was trying to fool whom? The idea that they were playing Drake made rage bellow in my soul.
I glanced around the table, wondering how many of these cleavage ink waves were making eyes at Drake. The fact that I saw Drake nod and smile darkly at one of them was not helping me at all. What was that about? Who was she? And why did Drake’s gesture make Xavier grin? And speaking of Xavier, a man that I knew was evil, why was his face not covered in ink?
Needing to force my gaze in another direction, I glanced at the seat next to me. Britain. Oh my God, he was seated next to me. Just to stifle my rage, I breathed in, and when I did I found a relief to that awful smell. The scent of vanilla laced with cinnamon was strong, and as if Britain knew I wa
s suffering he casually moved his chair closer to me and leaned in my direction. For spite, I held my breath once more, deciding that I hated vanilla, and cinnamon for that matter—especially since the last time it was that strong around him was when Anna was in his bed.
On the inside, I smiled when I saw the red line at the base of his collar; his tie barely covered the mark I’d left on him. That was one risk about The Realm: if you died there or were seriously hurt, that came back with you, too.
Aden ignored him, but I felt the rage rippling off him as he stared down the table in Drake’s direction. I was almost sure I saw Aden tilt his head in Britain’s direction to offer a warning to Drake, but he didn’t see that warning; he was too busy staring at the ink cleavage—well, not the cleavage, but the girls’ faces which were masked with ink. I would have been furious if I didn’t see him glance at Xavier a time or two so that he could ensure that Xavier saw where his attention was going.
Drake looked far more relaxed than anyone else at the table. He was leaned back in his massive throne. His elbow was perched on the arm of the chair as his hand covered his strong profile, highlighting each of his dominant features and those entrancing eyes. It was like anger and power intensified his magnetism. So hot. And he was mine. At least I thought he was.
When Xavier and the others lowered their head in a silent prayer, Drake’s eyes met mine. He winked once and moved his hand so I could see that ghostly smile lingering on the corners of his lips. When I told myself to ‘see’ him, I saw myself, I saw him staring at me as I took in the landmarks of that town, my expression when I saw the waterfall and the willow trees; he was thinking of our day together.
He was forgiven for the glances he gave those girls at that instant. Even if he were playing me right now, I didn’t care. He gave me a day that would take eternities to forget—and if the price for that day was not breathing through one meal, then so be it. It was a fair price that I would gladly pay.
When I saw images of him holding me in his mind, that fire in my core intensified. I casually adjusted the way I was sitting as I felt that burn and let out a silent sigh.