He was useless as a protector.
And his mother would die if Darling didn’t do something.
So he’d seized on Maris’s personal secret to save her life. Biting his lips to make them swell, and pinching and clawing his neck to turn it red, he’d run forward to stop his mother’s arrest.
“He’s my boyfriend. I’m the one who slept with him.” The words had flown out of Darling’s mouth before he could stop himself.
Or think through the consequences.
But then, he’d stupidly assumed his mother would cut off the
affair after seeing what a feckless, uncaring prick Carus was. Instead, she’d been grateful to Darling that he’d provided her with a cover story.
Little did he know then that he’d just sold his soul to his mother so that she could be happy. After that night, she’d carelessly chosen lovers and then guilted him into pretending they were his.
Lies he’d paid for with his flesh and blood.
Over the years, it’d been ironic really. To make their parents happy, Darling had pretended to be gay while Maris had pretended to be straight. It was one of many reasons why they were so close. Each had coached the other on how to carry out his ruse. What to say. How to act and dress. They’d invented code phrases to let each other know when they’d stepped out of their role.
“I’m yanking your membership card”
was the primary one. As soon as it was heard, they knew to pull back from whatever it was they were saying or doing before they exposed their true natures.
But Maris had had the luxury of coming out in his early twenties. Darling’s only way out was to find a legal way to kill his uncle and then pardon his mother for her stupidity.
Arturo made a gagging sound at them.
His hatred riding him with spurs, Darling curled his lip at the smug bastard who glared at them.
In an act of utter defiance Darling knew he was about to pay for, he kissed then licked Maris’s palm while staring at his uncle with a half smile.
Snarling furiously, Arturo stormed across the room and backhanded him so hard, his neck snapped and blood instantly invaded his mouth. “What have I told you, you stupid cock-licking rimmer?”
Testing his teeth with his tongue to make sure they were all still in place, Darling forced himself to play docile and not give in to the need to strike back.
Daintily—to further piss his uncle off—he wiped the blood from his lips with his forefinger.
I could snap you in two, you bastard…
It was so unfair to have the ability to rip his uncle’s heart out and not be able to do it. So long as his family meant more to him than he did, he was like a toothless lion and he hated that feeling most of all.
“We’re just friends.”
“Sure you are.” Arturo grimaced at Maris who prissed and preened, knowing it got under Arturo’s skin in the worst way. The only thing that kept Arturo from striking Maris was the fact that Maris’s blood was even bluer than theirs. And while Maris had been disowned by his family for his homosexuality, he was still protected by League laws. Not to mention the small fact that Maris was the Andarion ambassador to Caron. As such, he fell under the protection of their crowned prince, Nykyrian—a former League assassin who would give his eyeteeth to have one shot at Arturo’s jugular.
Unless Darling committed an act of treason, or Nykyrian’s grandmother declared war on the Caronese, Maris couldn’t be touched without severe consequences.
Arturo sneered at them. “Get out of my sight. You repulse me.”
Maris hooked his arm through Darling’s. “Come on, sweetie. The air in here is suddenly chilly.”
Arturo caught Darling by the hair and snatched him back. “I didn’t say you, cock jockey.”
Darling locked down on his primal instincts that begged him to hand Arturo his testicles.
Maris gave him a panicked stare.
“Leave,” Darling said in Phrixian.
He saw the reluctance before Maris inclined his head and did
what he asked. It would only go worse for Darling if Maris defied Arturo, too.
As soon as Maris was gone, Arturo shoved Darling away, but not before he’d wrenched his hair again. “I want that other shirtlifter out of my house.”
“He’s the Andarion ambassador. He can’t leave without a replacement.” A replacement Nykyrian would make sure didn’t happen. Maris’s real role here was to stay and watch Darling’s back. Whenever Arturo went too far, Maris would notify Nykyrian who would then do his best to pull Darling out until his uncle had time to cool down.
Arturo cursed in frustration. “I better not catch you in another display like that. You hear me?”
“I hear you.”
Arturo slapped him again. “That’s to remind you of your place, cockboy. You’re not governor yet. I am.”
“Yes,
my Lord Counselor
.” He couldn’t resist using the title he knew his uncle despised as it reminded Arturo of his lesser place in their world and the fact that he could never have full governorship—only a secondary regeant position.
Arturo raked him with a condemning glare. “You look just like your pathetic father. Get out!”
Darling gave a sarcastic and effeminate military salute before he obeyed.
In the hallway outside, he licked the blood away from the corner of his mouth as he imagined kicking the door in and gutting his uncle on the floor.
One more day.
Yeah, this was going to be the longest thirty-six hours of his life.
But after tomorrow…
Zarya would be his. His uncle would be dead. And he’d finally
be free of the utter hell he’d been living in for more than half his life. No more torture. No more bruises, broken bones, or scars.
No more lies.
And yet, in the pit of his stomach was a bad feeling he couldn’t shake. Something was going to go wrong.
He could feel it.
You’re just paranoid.
Arturo would never check the location of his mother or brother. He didn’t care enough to do so.
Annalise was safely ensconced in her dorm room and currently guarded.
What could go wrong?
Still, he heard Hauk’s voice in his head.
Never underestimate fate’s ability to screw any plan to the wall.
But fate owed him this. All he wanted was one single chance to be happy, just once in his miserable life. It really wasn’t asking too much, especially given
his
past.
He slowed as he entered the hallway that led to his bedroom. As always, his uncle’s guards were waiting there for him. Yet another degrading routine his uncle insisted on whenever Darling was home, and it was one Darling would die before he told anyone about.
If only I hadn’t had to come home tonight to complete my plans…
Rage clouded his sight.
I hate this shit
.
As bad as it would be just in principal, the guards lived to make it as demeaning for him as possible. They loved having power over an aristo. Of being able to use Darling as their personal scapegoat. Even now, he could hear their laughter as they mocked him.
Damn them for it.
One more day…
Yeah, what was another night compared to all the ones he’d already survived?
Still his stomach churned on bitterness as he met the guards’ smirking and gloating gazes, then headed into the bathroom across the hall from his room. He turned the water on to brush his teeth. Needing something to comfort him, he pulled Zarya’s ring out of his pocket so that he could kiss it and think of the only person whose smile made his life worth living.
How he wished he was with her now…
He slid the ring onto his pinkie and remembered the way she’d opened herself up for him last night. In her arms, he felt like he could fly. He didn’t know how she did it, but whenever he was with her, he didn’t hear the voices of his past or the ones in his head that constantly derided him. She expelled every demon inside him and made him forget the past. With her, he only saw the future.
Zarya was his haven even in this miserable hell.
Staring at himself in the mirror, he despised what he saw there. He always had. All of Arturo’s insults rang in his ears. But the ones that hurt most were from his own mother’s lips.
“You will never be what your father was. You’re just a pititful shadow of him. May the gods help us if you ever inherit.”
He flinched, then pushed those ghosts out of his memory.
Please let tomorrow work out the way it’s supposed to.
Don’t worry, Dar. You’ve been on missions before that went bad and yet turned out fine. Whatever happens, you will adapt and you
will
survive.
For Zarya, he would walk through the fires of hell just to make her smile. And if everything went through tomorrow, he’d make sure she never cried again.
Look on the bright side. Either you’ll succeed tomorrow or you’ll die.
One way or another, he’d finally be free.
Darling lay on his “bed” alone, going over all the plans for tomorrow. He mentally checked and rechecked every single second of the day. There were so many details. So many things that could get royally screwed.
It won’t.
He didn’t believe that for a minute, which was why he was making himself insane going over every variable, planning for the unexpected. No matter how ludicrous the thought, he prepared for it.
Even the highly unlikely possibility of a mechanical failure on his fighter.
The link he’d smuggled into his room past his guards vibrated under his hand. He glanced down, then smiled as he saw Zarya’s photo. Now that was enough to reverse even the worst mood. Turning the video output off, he clicked the channel open to see her looking tired, but nonetheless breathtaking. “Hi, beautiful.”
“Hey, sexy. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to pick up.”
Yeah, he didn’t want to think about what Arturo or his guards would do if they found out he had the link with him. The least would be he’d have to postpone his try for freedom by a few days as his body healed. “Only for you.”
She laughed. “I’m so glad you’re not taking fire and that your voice sounds relaxed. What are you doing?”
“Relaxed” was not the word he’d use for himself right now. He was wound tighter than a cat in a dog kennel.
“Wishing I was with you.” Probably not the manliest admission. But then, he’d been pretending to be effeminate for so long that sometimes those lines got blurred. Although to hear Maris berate him, he was never effeminate enough.
“I swear, Darling, you’re way too masculine for your own good. I don’t know how anyone buys the fact that you’re gay. They’d have to be blind or stupid. Both actually.”
But no one had ever guessed the truth.
Except for possibly his friend Caillen’s wife, Desideria. While Desideria hadn’t questioned him about it, he’d caught her looking at him strangely a few times when other women were around, as if she suspected the fact he was straight.
But she was the only one.
And Desideria wasn’t the woman he wanted to think about right now.
That was reserved for an amber-eyed goddess who made his blood catch fire. He traced the line of her cheek on the screen, wishing he could feel her skin under his hand. “Did you eat anything?”