Light Shadows

  With his skillful tongue still moving with mine, he growls, burying himself impossibly deeper inside me. I don’t even realize that he’s lifted me up onto his lap until my swollen nipples graze his bare chest, begging to be touched. One of his hands grips my waist as he manipulates my body up and down to meet his upward strokes. The other guides my pebbled bud to his mouth, and he begins to suck and lick and bite, just as he said he would.

  Oh God…this. Just…this. I can’t even begin to put it into words. The feel of him buried to the hilt, his tongue stroking my nipples, the friction of my hypersensitive clit rubbing against his pubic bone… this will kill me for sure. I feel myself breaking, dissolving onto him…into him. Sharing every breath, moan and sigh as one panting, quivering entity.

  “Do you feel it?” Dorian grits out between thrusts. “Do you feel what you do to me?”

  I close my eyes and just focus on his words and the ripples of pleasure racing through me. “Yes.”

  He growls, and I feel teeth sink into the skin of my neck. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to tell me he’s close. He’s trying to hold on a little longer—trying to stay on this wave of indescribable ecstasy—but it’s too good to pull back now. He needs more—harder, faster, deeper.

  I can feel him swelling inside me, throbbing with his impending release. His growth presses against that hidden spot tucked away within my walls. That spot that instantly makes me weep whenever the swollen tip of him strokes it with perfect pressure—just like he’s doing right now.

  Dorian holds me tight and buries his face in the crook of my neck as we fall apart together. His body so rigid, mine as pliant as Jell-O, we whine and groan until our voices grow hoarse with exhaustion. Then, ever-so-gently, he lays my body down on the bed, placing my head on the pillow and covering our naked, sweat-dampened bodies with the disheveled sheets.

  “Now you know,” he whispers into the crown of my head. “Now you know what you do to me. And why I would kill anybody that tried to take that feeling away from me again. Before last night—before you came back to me after your ascension—I felt like a dying man. For months, while we were apart, I yearned for death. It would have been much kinder than living without you.”

  Dorian softly angles my face so I can see the conviction in those smoldering eyes. “I know what true suffering is, Gabriella. And no degree of agony could ever surmount how it feels to not have you by my side.”

  Most normal twenty-one year olds would shy away from such profound declarations of love, but Dorian’s words draw me in closer. I touch my lips to his, letting him taste the truth in my kiss.

  “I know. I know because I felt it too. And I still feel that way about you, Dorian. I always have and always will, until the end of time. Until we perish into dust, whether that’s a week or an eternity from now.”

  He smiles before kissing me again, his hand cradling my head gently. Such a contrast from the ferocity he showed me just moments ago. I love him like this. I love him rough and demanding too, but the softer side of Dorian—the vulnerable side that no one else gets to see—is what opened my heart to him. It was his secret sadness that kept me coming back to the hotel suite night after night. The sex, of course, is extraordinary, but knowing there was so much melancholy just beneath that steely exterior made me feel for him.

  “Your birthday is almost over, and I haven’t even had a chance to give you your birthday present.” He lifts his palm and flexes his fingers as if he is holding an invisible sphere, and sure enough, a small, velvet box with a domed top appears in his hand.

  “When you returned the necklace I gave you, you made it clear that you had no desire to wear it again. I wanted to respect your wishes, so I won’t ask you to do so.”

  I touch my fingers to his cheek. “Dorian, I was hurt and upset then. Of course, I want it—”

  “No, Gabriella. That necklace symbolized what you were then.” He pries open the black box, and I am momentarily blinded by more diamonds than I can even count. “This ring symbolizes what you are now, what you’ve always been and what I’ve dreamt of you being to me.”

  I can’t speak.

  I can’t even think.

  Is this…Oh my God, is this really happening?

  Is Dorian Skotos asking me to…

  “This isn’t exactly what you think it is,” he says, taking the ring from the box, and successfully crushing my dreams into rubble. “As I told you, marriage means something very different for my kind, and you are not like us. I would never subject you to such cruelty. But I understand your need for a token. So here’s mine.”

  “Gabriella, you are everything to me. You’re my forever. And this ring symbolizes the eternity I want to spend with you. And if you would do me the honor of wearing it, I promise to love and protect you until the end of time. Until we both perish into dust and fall away into the wind.”

  Dorian takes my left hand and slips the glittering ring onto my finger—the finger reserved for my future husband. So while his promise is to never marry me and subject me to a life of darkness, he’s making it clear that no one else will have that opportunity either.

  I don’t know whether to be flattered by his possessiveness or irate at his selfishness. But the moment I look down at my hand, seeing material proof of Dorian’s love for me, all doubt dissipates from my mind.

  “Wow,” is all I can manage to say. It’s my necklace, but upgraded. Really upgraded. Black diamonds halo a dazzling, cushion-cut white diamond so incredibly big and bright, that I can’t look directly at it. The band is most likely platinum, since anything less would be very un-Dorian-like, and even that is studded with more sparkling diamonds.

  It’s beautiful. And extravagant. And I know that even for him, it was ridiculously expensive.

  “Dorian, it’s so…” I gulp at the sight of it sitting on my finger, unable to come up with anything remarkable to say. “It’s too much. I can’t accept something so beautiful.” I make a move to slide it off my finger, but he grasps my hands.

  “Yes, you can. And you will.”

  “But this must’ve cost you a fortune, Dorian. You don’t need to spend money for me to know that you love me.”

  He turns to me so my naked breasts are pressed against the hard marble of his chest. An errant curl falls in my face, and he tenderly winds it around his finger before easing it behind my ear. “Money means nothing to me, Gabriella. I don’t need it. But what I do need is you.”

  I look down at the ring adorning that sacred finger, wondering what my friends and family will think when they see it. Of course, they’ll instantly think it’s an engagement ring; hell, I thought the same thing. But how will they feel knowing I am choosing to commit my life to someone who will never, ever make me his wife? Even Alexander took issue with that fact, and he’s made it more than clear that he’s not Dorian’s biggest fan.

  “You can choose something else if you don’t like it,” he says, his voice growing anxious at my unresponsiveness.

  I shake my head. “No, it’s perfect. And if it means that much to you, it means even more to me. But please don’t do this because you think I need some false sense of security. You made your feelings very clear when it came to marriage, and I still chose to be with you. So if I feel some kinda way because you don’t want to marry me, it’s my problem—not yours.”

  Wow. Even I’m a little surprised at my mature response. Who am I kidding? I’m pretty damn pleased with myself.

  “Do you?” He touches my chin and tilts my head towards his. “Do you feel slighted in any way?”

  I match the earnestness in those clear blue eyes. “Does it matter?”

  We stare at each other in the dark, the silence concealing our true emotions in shadow. When it gets too hard to ignore the unanswered questions still lingering on our tongues, I let my eyes close and nestle my head against Dorian’s chest. Back to the safe place that makes me think of the beach in Skiathos, and making love under a star-filled sky as the waves crash at our feet
.

  This is all that matters. This moment right here. Everything else is just mortal inconsequence.

  “DID I SAY you could get out of bed yet? Put your hands on the counter and spread your legs. Now.”

  I freeze mid-step from the shower to find Dorian in the doorway of my bathroom, hair deliriously sexy from a night of raucous sex, and eyes still lazy with sleep. And if that wasn’t enough to make my knees buckle, he’s completely naked.

  Naked. Dorian Skotos, the god of fuck-hot, is naked with bedhead.

  “Don’t just stand there dumbfounded. You heard what I said.” He leans into the doorframe in an effortless pose that elongates his frame, accentuating every tanned ripple of muscle. My mouth waters with the urge to taste his skin, and I step forward reflexively. However, before I can advance any further, my front is pinned to the vanity. Dorian’s hands are locked on onto mine, holding me in place as he grinds his hardness against my ass. What is with him and bathrooms?

  “Such a hard-headed girl. When will you learn?” His breath is cool and level, almost menacing. I feel myself getting wet from the sound of it alone.

  “Maybe you should teach me,” I nearly moan.

  “That sounds promising, but I’d need all day and possibly all night. And we’ve got a busy day ahead of us.” He slips his knee between my legs and parts them, just the way he requested. “Mmmm. I can already smell you. Yes, I would definitely need at least 24 hours to teach you properly.”

  He flexes his hips, and I groan at the feel of him throbbing against me. “I’ll settle for the Cliff’s Notes for now.”

  Dorian grips my wrists tighter as he bends his knees just enough to align himself with my slick sex. Then in the slowest, most torturous way, he enters me from behind, sliding in to the hilt—until every bit of me is devouring every bit of him.

  He doesn’t move, giving my body a chance to acclimate to his size and savor the feel of him at this angle. Maybe he’s making up for his rough demeanor last night. Or maybe he just wants me so fucking insane for him that I’ll do anything to get him to move.

  “Please,” I whimper, my eyes closed tight. “Please, Dorian.”

  “Not yet. Not until you’re ready, baby.”

  “I’m ready now!” I whine, squirming.

  “Almost, but not quite, little girl.” His voice is so controlled, it infuriates me. How can he be so calm? Can’t he feel how ravenous I am for him?

  I growl in frustration, yet the sound ends in a whine as I feel Dorian’s hand wrap around my neck with gentle pressure. His lips are on my ear, causing him to shift even deeper.

  “Open your eyes.” It’s a whispered command, but my body complies immediately, completely spellbound. “Look at yourself. See how amazing you look with me inside you.”

  I take it all in—the sight of Dorian’s body fused with mine. The feel of his hand tightening around my throat. The fiery lust smoldering in those pale blue eyes.

  He hasn’t even moved yet and I feel like I could fall apart at any second.

  Reading my mind, or maybe putting me out of my misery, he slides out to the tip, slowly…deliberately. So much control wrapped in my insanity. Then he pushes back in just as unhurriedly, making every part of me shake with need.

  “Easy,” he rasps, stroking me steadily. “Just keep watching, baby. I’ve got you.”

  He sexes me so thoroughly that I feel touched all over. This time is different. Last night was all frenzy and hunger. Right now—him filling me with slow, lazy thrusts as he watches me come undone through the mirror—is all about seduction and restraint.

  My knees begin to shake and he cradles my neck tighter, elevating the intense pleasure. I feel like I’m going to faint. Or scream. Or cry. It feels so good that I may do all three.

  Until he stops.

  Dorian pulls out of me abruptly, causing me to yelp in surprise and displeasure. He grips my shoulders and bends his head downward, his focus on my back.

  “Your tattoos,” he whispers, his expression darkening.

  “What’s wrong?” I try to turn around, but his grasp is firm.

  His fingers brush over the space between my shoulder blades where a lotus blossom is etched into my skin. “They’re…fading.”

  “What?” I hurriedly look at the ones on my arms, my shoulder…the little blue anchor on my hand.

  It’s just like he said. They’re fading. All of them. Even the one that means the most to me. The one that ties me to Dorian.

  “What’s going on?” I can’t even keep the panic out of my voice. “How could that even be possible?”

  Dorian grimaces before spinning me around to face him. He takes my hand and runs his thumb over the anchor mark he gave me in an act of love and commitment. It’s now a grey-blue, so much lighter than the one he also wears.

  “It seems as if your body is healing itself. It’s purging the ink from your skin. Even mine.”

  “So what does that mean?” Could this mean that I’m no longer marked by Dorian? That I am no longer his?

  He drops my hand like it’s on fire, like he can’t bear to touch me. He won’t even look at me. “I don’t know.”

  “Are there any others? Something…new?” He told me about the mark of the Dark, and the ancient prophecy that I could bear the ultimate symbol of corruption—the mark of the beast—upon ascension. I hadn’t seen or felt anything, but I also hadn’t realized that my tattoos were fading either.

  “No. Get dressed. We need to speak with the others.”

  Then he’s gone, leaving me cold and a little sore. I wash up with trembling hands and tie my hair back into a simple ponytail. When I exit the bathroom to get dressed, I find that he’s not in my room. I’m not surprised; I’ve grown used to Dorian’s disappearing acts. Still, I can’t understand his indifference.

  I step out into the living room where everyone is seated, Dorian included. They each look at me expectedly, yet no one says a word. What the hell? Why do I feel like I’ve been banished to the principal’s office and they’re waiting on me to confess my crimes.

  “Sit down, Gabriella,” Dorian says, his voice still so cold and distant. “Please.”

  There’s a space beside him on the loveseat, but I slide onto the arm of the armchair where Morgan is seated instead. Dorian exhales slowly, releasing his frustration, yet doesn’t say a word.

  “Anyone wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” I ask, tired of the awkward silence. No one makes a move to explain except for Alexander, who appears fresh and rested, despite being up all night watching my suicidal roommate.

  “We think we know what may have triggered Morgan’s hallucinations last night.”

  “Okay…?” His elusiveness is frustrating, and I have half a mind to tell him to cut the crap and spit it out. But, you just don’t talk like that to your formerly dead dad who happens to be a ruthless, supernatural assassin, do you?

  “Gabriella, it’s you.”

  “Me?” I look down at Morgan, but she diverts her gaze to an imaginary thread on her sweatshirt. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and she isn’t wearing an ounce of makeup. There are bags under her eyes, but no sign of further self-inflicted harm. And for that, I’m thankful. Even if she can’t bear to look at me.

  I stifle the dull ache of her rejection and turn back to Alexander. “How did I cause Morgan to act out like that?”

  “Your ascension…it generated some type of surge of supernatural energy,” Niko adds. “Whatever was lying dormant inside Morgan was pushed to the surface when you ascended on your birthday, amplifying her sight. And there’s a good chance that there are others—humans with just a touch of magic—that now have enhanced abilities as well.”

  “Could that explain that guy from yesterday? From the hotel?”

  He shakes his head and purses his lips, clearly still pissed about nearly being poisoned. “No. He was a Nobody. A pawn. And whoever sent him is a dead man.”

  “Gabriella,” Dorian says just above a whisper, yet I hear
him loud and clear. My name is velvet on his lips and my body instantly reacts to the sound of his voice. I turn to him, my aggravation already a distant memory. “If your ascension has influenced others, that means they are susceptible to Dark—or even Light—influence. It may not be safe for you here anymore.”

  “Safe for me?” I bark out a sardonic laugh, causing Morgan to flinch and scramble to the opposite arm of her seat. “When has it ever been safe for me? This is my home, Dorian. No one is going to force me to leave. Especially now.”

  “Listen to him, Gabriella,” Alexander says, his voice gently commanding. “Just because you have your abilities, that doesn’t mean you’re invincible. If anything, you’re more vulnerable than ever. You’re the Dark Light; you’re more unique than anything this world has ever seen. And there will be enemies from both sides that will want to harness your power.”

  Before I can even roll my eyes, Dorian is before me, grasping my hands and pulling me into his arms. He looks down at the little, faded blue anchor on my hand, and runs is thumb over it, willing it to stay. “You can’t fight them all, baby. I know you think you can, but I won’t let you bargain with your life. Losing you is not an option, little girl. Not when loving you is the only thing I have to live for.”

  I look up into Dorian’s eyes and see eternity in those boundless, blue depths. I can’t resist him when he’s like this—so vulnerable and open to me. Its occurrence is such a novelty that I’m tempted to freeze time and everyone around us, just to stay with him like this forever.

  “Ok,” I whisper hoarsely. I clear my throat and try again. “Ok. What do you suggest we do?”

  “I have a house,” Niko chimes in from the couch behind us. “In Louisiana, just outside New Orleans.”

  Reluctantly, I unravel myself from Dorian’s arms to give his younger brother my attention. “And you think we’ll be safe there?”

  “Safer than anywhere else. Very few people know it even exists. And those who do…are dead.”