Prophecy: Child of Light (39 page)

She clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palm.

Since when did he dictate what she could and couldn’t do?

She wasn’t a child and he knew it. She wasn’t his to command.

Her gaze didn’t leave the garden when she heard the swish of material that signalled someone approaching her. She knew it was him. She didn’t need to look in order to know what his expression would be like. The soft lines of his face would be hardened by anger, his lips would be compressed and his eyes clouded.

She glanced at him and found that she was right.

Her eyes dropped to his hand when he extended it towards her.

“There is a time and a place to use this.” His voice had a hard edge to it, one that made her feel like she used to when Iona was berating her for something she’d done wrong. He wasn’t her commander or her superior.

She held her hand out, narrowed her eyes on his and waited for him to give her back what was rightfully hers. He didn’t. The anger that had been building up inside of her slipped through the restraints she’d been holding it at bay with and she clenched her left hand into a fist again, keeping it by her side so he couldn’t see it.

“Amongst allies is not one of them,” he continued, his eyes unmoving from hers but his expression darkening. “We need these werewolves on our side, Prophecy. I told you not to react to them. I told you to stand down!”

She snatched the amulet and slipped it on, fastening it quickly and raising her hand up. She stared at him, her breathing heavy and her eyes narrowed into slits.

“Told me? Told me!” She gripped her wrist tighter and stared into his eyes, ignoring the shocked look that had entered them when she’d threatened him with her magic. “I’m not a child to be told, Valentine! I’m not yours to command as you wish. I’m not below you or inferior. I’m your fucking equal!”

He took a step back as though he’d been slapped, clearly stunned by her words.

“Prophecy, I—” His tone was gentle and he held his hand out to her.

She growled at him, cutting him off. “Don’t! Just don’t... I’m tired of being treated like a child. You once said I wasn’t a child but you still treat me like I am. Am I not allowed to defend myself? I reacted, yes, but I was provoked beyond what was fair. I’m no one’s to command. I’m not a present for someone and I’m certainly nobody’s bride!”

He held his hands up by his side in an act of surrender and she lowered hers. She’d regretted threatening him the moment she’d seen the hurt in his eyes. She could never hurt him, but he’d pushed her into reacting just as the werewolves had done before him and she couldn’t take any more.

Her hands hung limp at her sides and she dropped her head forwards, heaving a sigh as she did so.

When he moved towards her, she turned away and stared at the garden. She wished he would go. Even though she’d not given him a chance to really drive his point home about what she’d done, she still felt intensely guilty. Just him looking at her made her feel terrible inside. She hadn’t wanted to react, she just hadn’t been able to stop herself, and everything had snowballed after that.

She wrapped her arms about herself and sighed again. She wished that she could erase what had happened, or move his thoughts away from what she’d done so he wouldn’t be angry with her any more. She didn’t want to argue with him. Remembering what the werewolf had said about Valentine following his heart, she decided it might be a good way to get him talking.

“You never answered that werewolf’s question,” she whispered.

He leaned his elbows against the top of the wall and stared at the garden. She realised that he still wasn’t going to answer it.

“His name is Dmitri,” he said, his eyes scanning the scenery.

“It suits him.” She didn’t know what else she was supposed to say. She’d never met someone like Dmitri. He had the ability to be imposing without much of an effort. Just remembering how he looked, with the scar over one eye and the semi-extended canines, made a chill sweep over her. “Have you known him long?”

“Years, hundreds of them. I met him back when I first became a vampire. I was with Lucya and Kalinor at the time. It was my first Creator Day masquerade.” He picked at the lichens on the wall, watching his fingers while he spoke.

She didn’t let the pang of jealousy she felt on hearing his sire’s name affect her. She just shrugged it off and leaned against the wall, mimicking his movements.

“Kalinor was at the ball last night assisting the Law Keepers. I met Cornelius there. He told me about Hyperion and Ineru. I saw Arkalus and some others from your house. He was probably searching for you,” he said with a note of solemnity in his voice.

She couldn’t tell whether it was because he had seen members of his family again, or because Arkalus was looking for her. She wanted to reach out to him to offer him comfort but reminded herself that he didn’t deserve it when he was falling back on treating her as though she was a child. She hated how he could make her feel so small and insignificant so easily. One angry look was all it took for her to start feeling as though she was in the wrong.

She was weak and useless, nothing but a burden to him.

She shook her head, trying to clear it of such thoughts.

“Who’s Cornelius?” she said and looked across at him, her eyes tracing the outline of his profile. He kept his gaze fixed on the trees.

“My former aide. He tells me the Law Keepers are thankfully busy.” A frown flickered on his brows and he muttered to himself, “... becoming the Law Keeper for Aurorea one day.”

She could almost feel the pain in his words. She knew he was talking to himself, not to her, reciting words that had clearly been said to him in the past. He probably would have been mortified if he realised she’d heard what he’d said. She sighed. She’d taken his destiny away from him. No, she hadn’t taken it. His destiny was with her. He’d seen it in her blood and that’s why he’d kidnapped her rather than killed her. She was supposed to go with him and he was supposed to leave his family behind.

It still didn’t stop her from feeling wretched about it.

He’d sacrificed the chance to become the most elevated of vampire guards in order to face an uncertain future with her.

How high up had he been in his family? Cornelius had been his aide, just as Serenity was hers. To receive a servant he must have been held in high regard by his whole family. They weren’t usually bestowed on those less than Chosen Son or Chosen Daughter. She hadn’t realised that he’d occupied such a position of power.

He sighed and raised his eyes to the stars that were still twinkling faintly above them, shining through the bright moonlight.

She hated seeing how dejected he was because of her. Deep inside, she wished that he’d never rescued her. Everything that had happened to him was her fault. She was always getting him hurt, placing him in danger because she was too slow or too frightened to fight. If it hadn’t been for her, he would still have been close to achieving his heart’s desire of becoming a Law Keeper. She’d taken all of that away. She’d acted like a child and disobeyed an order given to her for a good reason. She’d been stubborn. She’d been foolish. She’d ruined her own life and his.

Why couldn’t she listen when people told her what to do? They had her best interest at heart. Now Iona was dead, Serenity was the mate of her bastard blood brother and Valentine was embroiled in a war he should have ended. The next time she decided to ignore something that Valentine told her, he could die too. She’d already endangered his life in Paris and here in Dmitri’s bastion. The werewolves could have easily killed them both.

She pushed herself up, digging her fingernails into the wall and hanging her head. Her hands trembled and the tremors seemed to extend up her arms until her whole body was shaking with her mixed emotions. Her eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision.

He should have left her when he had the chance. She shouldn’t have stopped him from leaving that night in Oxford.

She turned sharply to face him.

“So why didn’t you leave me then?” She didn’t hide the mixture of fear and anger in her voice.

He looked at her, a frown creasing his brows, and she realised that he was trying to figure out what she was saying.

“In Oxford, when you wanted to leave. Why didn’t you?” She’d forgotten that he hadn’t answered her back then. He hadn’t explained his reason for staying, just as he hadn’t given her an answer earlier tonight.

“You know why.” He stared at the garden again, his voice heavy with sadness.

“Because I made you... that’s what you mean.” She cursed the venom in her voice when he pushed off from the wall and glared at her.

“No... that is not the only reason.”

She could see she was provoking him. Anger was beginning to stir in the depths of his eyes and she could feel it on the edge of her senses. She wanted him to be angry with her. She wanted him to take it all out on her so he could stop feeling so miserable about the life he’d left behind. She wanted him to want to be with her, not pine for his family.

“Then why? There must be a reason that—”

“Damn it, Prophecy!”

The force of his words made hers flee her lips. She shrank back when he closed the gap between them, straightening up to his full height and frowning down at her, his eyes dark with anger and his lips a thin line of fury. She could see his hands were curled into tight trembling fists and she fought for breath while she stared into his eyes.

“What?” she said in a shaky voice. There was a flicker of regret in his eyes before they clouded over again.

“I stayed because...” he said in a voice thick with emotion. He turned his back on her and sighed. “I could not leave you. I tried... but I cannot.”

She watched him walk back inside, unable to find her voice to call out to him like she wanted to. She felt wretched for pushing him so hard when he was already so hurt and angry. In the heat of the moment, she had wanted him to hate her, and now she felt as though he really did.

Turning to face the garden again, she stared at the stars. They looked like they had last night when Valentine had danced with her in the street, only now she wasn’t filled with warmth and desire. She was cold and alone. She cursed herself for acting so childishly and wished that Valentine would come back to her so she could make things right again. She could still feel his kisses on her throat and his hands holding her tightly. The more she thought about last night, the more real the ghost of them became, until she swore he was touching her again. She wiped the bitter tears away as they filled her eyes.

A noise pricked her senses and she realised that she wasn’t alone.

“Valentine, I’m—” She cut herself off when she turned and found a woman standing by the open doors.

Her slim figure was wrapped in a black dress that matched her hair. Her thin face and round dark eyes reminded her of someone and Prophecy leaned heavily against the wall when it dawned on her.

“You’re the woman I saw Valentine with at the ball,” she said with a frown. She hadn’t forgotten the way the woman had touched his cheek and the look of tenderness that had been in her eyes.

“And you are the woman who stole so many men’s attentions, including Valentine’s.” The woman had a Russian accent but was so well spoken that Prophecy barely noticed it. Her voice suited her appearance, adding to the air of royalty she had about her. The woman moved towards Prophecy, her hips shifting softly with each small step she took. “I apologise sincerely for the way my husband treated you on your arrival.”

“Husband?” She wondered if she looked as stunned as she felt.

“Dmitri. He has a charming tendency to forget his manners when his more primitive nature makes him want to play with newcomers. I believe he may have overstepped the mark and for that I am sincerely sorry.”

Prophecy raised her brows, absorbing what the woman was saying and trying to make sense of it all. This had clearly been the person that Valentine had wanted to meet at the ball and his being there must have been to arrange to come here tonight. She stared at the woman. She hadn’t expected the two to be connected.

“You’re a Venia,” she said, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t imagining it. In front of her stood a vampire of the Venia bloodline, a beautiful woman who was apparently married to that beast she’d met earlier. She found it hard to picture them together.

The woman laughed delicately. “I am.”

“This place belongs to werewolves.”

“Dmitri is my love.” The woman gave her a concerned look when she hastily wiped a tear from her cheek. “My name is Mia. I am the lady of this house.”

“Prophecy,” she said and wiped her other eye on the back of her finger. She didn’t want to look weak in front of Mia but the tears wouldn’t stop coming. There was something about the woman’s gentle tone and air that soothed her and made her want to give in to the tumultuous emotions that were running riot inside of her. Something about Mia made her feel safe, as though she would offer her the comfort she so badly needed.

“I know your name. I know all about you,” Mia said with a sigh and moved closer to her. “Valentine has clearly had an impact on you. It is hard to go against everything you know, even if it is for love.”

“I’m not in love with him.” She dashed away the last of her tears and stood a little straighter, trying to hide her true feelings from Mia.

“My words were not about you.” Mia turned and looked over the garden.

Prophecy stared blankly at the floor. Was Mia saying that Valentine was in love with her? Dmitri had implied as much too. Her chest tightened and she struggled to breathe. Could they see a change in him? They had known him a long time, long enough to detect such a difference.

“Valentine can be hard on people sometimes,” Mia said.

Prophecy realised that Mia was facing her again. She looked up into her eyes and saw so much concern in them that she felt as though they had known each other for years, as though they were kin rather than relative strangers.

Mia smiled. “Especially on those he cares for.”

Prophecy lowered her gaze when Mia smoothed her hair. She felt overwhelmed by everything.