Imperial ((Imperial) Web of Hearts and Souls)
What the hell? Is that why? Is that why that low-lying—I couldn’t even think of curse words fast enough—hadn’t come for me? He had replaced me—with someone from my own line? A line that I had perished for!
Mazing gripped my arm, pulling me closer as every muscle in my body tensed. “I smell no roses.”
That was the only reason that Vade was still breathing at this point. Roses were the scent that passion had, a scent that clearly stated that a fever had occurred.
“Go to the springs. Feed,” I ordered.
Rasp stepped up behind us, judging my every emotion with his icy eyes.
“Mazing is feeding now. Take her there,” I said to him.
“I will take you both. Then I will take you to the throne,” he replied respectfully.
I reached for his dark shirt and balled as much of the soft cloth as I could into my fist. “I do not need a guide in my home. You do as I say.”
“Sovereign,” he replied with a quiet whisper whilst glancing at my arm, which was not only trembling but also nearly transparent.
“Do as I say. That is, unless you believe the actions of your king warrant protection from me.”
He let his eyes fill with sorrow, then bowed slightly. I let him go, and he offered a simple nod for Mazing to go with him. Both of them glanced warily back at me. Smart ones, they were. This was going to be the fight of a lifetime. It was possible there wouldn’t be a mansion standing by the time I was through with the likes of Vade.
Chapter Five
Normally I would manifest my way through this massive mansion and appear at his, well, at one time our chamber doors, if not within the walls of them, but I was trembling.
I decided to push forward with a slow, calculated stride. Once you passed the grand entry hall that was made of white marble, you entered the great hall. The most elaborate part of this was the red stairway which was two hundred feet wide with a dark mahogany railing that brought out the clash of red and white the elegant room was laced with.
Balancing each side of the stairway were columns that were close to fifty feet in width and had water flowing upward around the marble of which they were made of. Those columns were a part of the springs where I’d sent Mazing.
Within the springs, you could not only pull energy that petals had brought to The Realm, but you could also see every dimension, each city within them from there. It was a tremendous source of power that sovereigns kept in their establishments. Vade’s was the most elaborate of them all, obviously, as two lines at one time shared that power.
With each step, my soul quaked. Part of me wanted to rip Vade apart with everything I had left in the way of supremacy; the other part was panicky about looking him in the eyes once again. What kind of being could give you fever with just the thought of them?
I kept remembering the first time I saw him—from my deathbed, at the end of a tormented life. I remembered how much care the almighty favored king had given a broken human girl. I remembered the feel of his humming skin against mine. How each powerful movement of his lips felt. The sound of his voice, that powerful, sensual way he pronounced every sound that left his perfectly shaped mouth. I remembered how the room would fill with electricity when he felt any emotion. I remembered how his rush felt. His fever.
Cursing myself, I let the last fight soar through my thoughts. The one where he told me I could not change who we were. That it was called progression. That I had to learn to give a damn about someone besides myself before I even began to try to experiment with our power. The one where he told me I was selfishly killing my line by not feeding them or ruling them properly. I remembered telling him that I didn’t need him or anyone to tell me how to care for my own—I told him he was threatened by me and that I would give him every reason to rationalize those fears.
We both had solid points within that raging argument, ones that we were too stubborn to let go; that was nothing new. We were both passionate souls. The thing was, if he had chosen any other time to talk to me about how I was leading my line to feed, our lives would not have ended up this way. After that fight, I was determined to show him that I could lead without his advice or power. Sometimes stubbornness gets you in more trouble than anger, or any other emotion for that matter.
Time would have allowed us to see past that fight, find a compromise, much like we did with all the ones before that point. But time was something that was not afforded to the pair of us.
Instead, my First was betrayed. My line was disbursed. I died. And he did not come for me. And now, now I have no idea what the hell has happened. All I know is that sacred rules were broken, that our Creator was most likely hanging His head in shame. That our demises were on the horizon.
I knew that within this moon there were two females in this mansion. That his scent, one that was a rich mint, was within the same room with those girls.
Horrid visions filled my thoughts of him with others. The idea of him with another was far more wicked than the notion that crossing lines was now openly accepted when it came to fevers. He was mine, and the thought of another near him enraged my soul and allowed me to push those girlish thoughts down into the cage of my soul.
With a firm grip on my raging emotions, I began to manifest through the mansion, passing priceless paintings, sculptures, and all things regal that Vade had collected over his interminable existence.
After one more deep breath, I gathered all my rage and appeared before the double red doors that led to his private world inside of this mansion.
My emotions were so powerful that a wind picked up as I gazed at the closed doors, blowing my long auburn hair off my bare shoulders. The mansion rumbled with the power I was pushing through my soul.
That instant, the doors flew open and thunder erupted, the bright lights of the mansion dimmed and flashed on and off, trying to find balance with the ethereal electrical current that was now saturating the air.
He was standing there with his classic stoic pose. Just a few feet back from the doorway. His hair was just as dark as I remembered; silk strands of jet-black locks were gently rustled out of his eyes. Those eyes. Gun metal gray if he was near rest, but otherwise shards of light pierced through them, making them seem like ice in one glance, diamonds in another.
He was dressed in all black, enhancing the darker tone of his well-nourished skin. His broad shoulders tensed under his tight black shirt, along with every muscle I could see exposed in his lean warrior stance.
I screamed at myself to hold the anger I had when I felt the wind around me die down.
The wrath welcomed the call, and my power grasped everything within my reach and flung it forward. Priceless vases, paintings, and furniture from across time flew through the air at him. I boldly stepped forward and focused, ensuring that my wrath hit its target.
Within that breath, everything returned to its home, the wind ceased, the lights remained on. Vade was grasping a vase—one of his favorites—that I had sent soaring at him. Holding my stare, he gently released it from his long, powerful fingers and let it rest on the table beside him.
The doors behind me slammed closed, but I was not letting this end. He may be all big and bad, able to counter my power, but he was about to see how powerful a ticked off woman could be.
Before I could blink, he’d vanished. Coward.
Wait. No. Were those his hands sliding down my waist? His breath on my neck? His firm body just behind mine? Yes. Yes, it was. Oh, he was playing dirty.
Before I could lash back at him, his long, powerful arms surrounded me. His fiery lips brushed against my neck, sending a vibration of energy through every part of me, yet focusing squarely on the core of my vessel, the part of my body that had only belonged to him. My knees buckled, but he caught me, holding me firmly against him. All this time, and my vessel had not forgotten him. In the past, my body would always react before my mind could rationalize the response; this wasn’t the first time I’d melted in his arms. Creator help me, I didn’t want it to be t
he last.
I was numb. His touch, his essence was fortified with a powerful hum, one that was so deep that all you could do to fight it was sigh, and not surprisingly, that usually encouraged him to continue his pursuit.
Which was exactly what he was doing at this moment. Vibrations of his essence were wavering over me, swirling deeper and deeper, saturating my soul with his powerful presence.
But I was mad. Furious. He’d left me in the Veil. Everything I had or was had been taken from me. That’s what my mind was telling my soul right now. That was the rational side of me trying to block his sensation, what was bellowing in my thick skull. I didn’t want to feel this good in his arms, I didn’t want him to sense how much I craved him. I didn’t want him to find equal pleasure in my response. I wanted to be in pain. I wanted him in pain.
I felt the heat of his breath rise higher, and just under my ear he breathed, “My Glory…I’ve got you…let go.”
His voice filled my soul, and I felt tears that I was too stubborn ever to let fall sting my eyes.
Rage, wrath, fury—every word under the defined emotion of anger was coursing through me. Enough to make this mansion and every level of The Realm crumble. That didn’t happen. It didn’t happen because he had sealed us within his essence.
A storm raged around our bodies, and as it did I thought of my human life, my reign, our fights, the betrayal that had landed me in death. I thought of every single hour I’d spent lurking in that vast cathedral. Every moment I’d secretly yearned for Vade. I thought of all the souls I released from my line. I thought of this day. The revelations and the clear signs that stated the life I once had no longer existed.
Maybe this was what grief felt like. My chest ached; there was a heavy weight there that produced visions of my worst fears not coming to life, but existing. It was an agony I never wished to feel and craved amnesty from.
My knees gave way, and even though Vade had a firm grip on me, we slowly fell to the floor. Somehow, I turned in his arms and buried my face in his warm, broad chest. As the scent of mint and the hum of his touch filled me more and more, rage came. So much time had passed. So much agony, confusion, and fury.
Half of me wished I’d never known him, that at least if that were true then I would not have had to remember the torment of his absence. The other part was grateful I was in his arms right now. That for the first time in eons I felt something close to peace. Peace was letting this storm out. Peace was the release.
I was no fool, though. A girl obsessed with her adored. I was a sovereign, for Creator’s sake. So, in his embrace, through the raging storm I analyzed his energy. I searched for the lingering scent of another. I searched for a past fever. I searched for a reason to find hatred for him.
I found no such thing. Instead, I saw my auburn laced with emerald green eyes staring back at me. My ivory skin, my long auburn hair. I saw my image a million times over. There was no essence beyond my own within him. There was no room, I consumed his every thought.
He pulled me onto his lap, encasing me within the tangle of his powerful arms and legs. With a deep, hypnotic tone he breathed, “I would never forsake you, my Glory.”
Those foolish tears spilled from the corners of my eyes. He lifted my chin and gazed into my being, which could not find one solitary emotion to grasp.
Those eyes, the light behind them had dulled, much like the light that turned mine to a warm honey shade had, but with each pulse of our souls the light was breaking through. Diamonds were before me now, exquisite diamonds.
Ever so slowly, he leaned forward. His warm lips framed one of mine, gently teasing me, trembling ever so slightly, as if I were a forbidden fruit. I responded shyly, much like the first time he had dared to kiss me. I felt my soul throb with raw energy. His arms tightened around me as he pulled me closer to his firm chest. His will to remain gentle was losing its battle, the way that every muscle in his chest would flex and then release was telling me that. His lips teased mine softly once more, then the warmth of his tongue reached out for mine. The heat of him, along with the sensational flavor of mint, was causing my very being to beat wildly in time with my heart. I missed him. I hated that I did. That I needed him. But I did. I really did.
Life, ecstasy, that was what we were both feeling as our kiss grew deeper. Fierce one moment, then gentle the next. All the while, the storm around our bodies raged on. All the while, I let loose the caged emotions that had entrapped me in misery.
I felt his long fingertips frame my face just as his thumb dared to catch that dreadful tear that escaped my closed eyes.
He slowly let his kiss end before he dared to lose control. Gently, he pulled my head to his chest and let the hum of his essence caress my weary soul. The storm within was subsiding. He’d managed to quell my soul once more.
My power, my essence, lurks within my emotions. When it is elevated, the world responds, wicked storms are birthed, humans I’m meant to reprieve are forced to face the wrath of nature.
One of the first lessons my Creator taught me was how to control such a power. How to live with it in my soul. I dare say that was the hardest lesson to grasp, one I continue to find myself struggling with from time to time.
When Vade and I began our life together, our Creator told Vade that he had to let me release. He told Vade that I could hold in that power for eons, but at some point I would have to be held, caressed, as my power found its balance and I found my respite. The Creator knew that Vade’s essence was powerful enough to shield not only our world, but also the ones below from such a wrath.
The Creator’s blessing of our rush, the way He promised me that Vade’s energy would always give me a reprieve, made me believe that Vade and I would never fail as one.
No one beyond the Creator and Vade knew of this weakness of mine. Of the internal battle my soul often had. In the Veil, more than once I wished for this release. In fact, not long ago I asked the Reaper how powerful his energy was, if it could withstand raging emotions. I never confessed this weakness, but I think he knew. His only response was, “My power serves its purpose, as does yours and whomever your Creator entrusted with the knowledge of your gifts.”
When he said that, I almost had hope that this moment would come. That the Reaper was telling me that not only was Vade the only one in existence that could witness and withstand this, but that I would see him again. I would find my release once more.
The winds settled, the thunder lost its vibrating rumble, and the lightning ceased. Yet, Vade’s embrace grew stronger.
“You let me be. You left me there,” I said in a hoarse whisper.
“I have never once endured a harder trepidation,” he responded, gently caressing my long hair out of my face.
Anger came back to me, but I had released enough of my rage that no sound was uttered in the room around us. “Yet you endured it.”
He leaned me back slightly so his eyes would find mine. His firm jawline rippled with emotions before he spoke. “It was your safe haven. The others believed you were now a part of The Realm. If I had come for you, even in thought, they would have known that the Reaper was shielding you.”
Oh, so his line was above me? He knew if he came for me, he would be invoking war with Xavier, maybe even with all the kings?
In an instant, I was standing feet from him, glaring down to where he still rested. “Why must you always care what others think? Why must you subdue your power? You put other kings’ wishes before our rush, a rush that your absence murdered.”
In a beat of my heart, he was before me, staring down, almost painfully. “Absence is said to make the heart grow fonder. If a rush was murdered, it was done so because it was not felt within the core of both. The hearts and souls, that sacred rush belonged to, slaughtered the emotion.”
That was painful. I knew he must have forgotten me long ago, but hearing him say that our rush was not truly felt before was agony. “Mortal souls must have spoken those words, for immortals, sovereigns, never forget a bo
nd. Therefore, there is no absence that would cause anyone to be forgotten.”
A gentle sigh escaped his lips, which I craved to feel against mine but was too stubborn to claim. Was he relieved that I agreed without a fight? Or did he read between my words and understand that I never forgot the likes of him?
“What have you done in my absence? Tell me why I sensed the scent of my line within your entry hall? Why not only that scent was there, but also the scent of one of Xavier’s line? Why were white doves present? What wars occurred on the first level of The Realm? Why are humans fighting against a race that they should not know exists?”
His eyes pored over me. “You need to be nourished.”
“Back to that argument, are we? Well, guess what? I proved you wrong. Mazing and I survived on less than you could have imagined. We could have taken more, trust me, but we held our ground. I stand before you now no weaker than before.”
He clenched his fist
, causing every muscle in his long arms to flex, the air in the room to ripple with the raw power that he was. “Your soul is feeding you. You need to be nourished.”
“What’s wrong, Vade? Are you afraid that I’m going to vanish before your eyes? That I will perish once again? If so, I see no need for you to worry. You have managed quite well in my absence, looking all the more powerful because of it, in fact.”
Before I could finish my rant, one of his arms was around me as his hand urged my chin upward, giving me no choice but to gaze into his eyes, which were inches from mine. “Obviously, your hunger is hindering your memory. Look into my eyes and tell me that I look stronger than before. Tell me that there is no agony there, no anger. Tell me that this isn’t the first time a clear breath has passed my lips from the time you left our bed until now. Tell me that the weight of the universe is not squarely placed on my shoulders; a weight that our Creator is all too happy to let me bear. Tell me that I look at peace. That holding you right now is not the most euphoric state I have ever been in.”