Light Shadows (47 page)

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Authors: S. L. Jennings

BOOK: Light Shadows
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“I can take her pain away. I can heal her.” I feel Lars’s hand on my naked shoulders, but I bat it away with a shaky hand.

“No…no…need…this,” I stammer through chattering teeth.

I won’t be able to hold on much longer, but I have to. I refuse to let this brand—Aurora’s brand—take me under. I let out another scream, releasing the pain, and I feel the sides of my mouth split. Blood oozes onto my tongue, but I don’t feel the sting. I am beyond pain. Beyond feeling anything else besides the sensation of my back being flayed raw. Still, I scream. I scream until my vocal cords are stripped. And when no more sound comes out, I cry silently beside Dorian, my sweat-slicked forehead pressed into the comforter.

Minutes, hours, days pass. I’m not even sure. I just know that I’ve stopped screaming. And I’m completely exhausted. Someone drapes a blanket around my shoulders once the chills start. I can’t even lift my head to see who it is, or even speak to thank them. But I’m grateful. So grateful that they sat through this with me as I battled the last of that demon. Aurora can’t hurt me anymore, even from the grave.

The pain has finally subsided enough for me to doze off, and I sprint towards the edges of sleep. Someone touches my hair gently, soothing me into slumber. I hear gasps and murmurs around me, but none of it makes sense. Sounds just blend together in slow motion, the chopped and screwed version of the aftermath.

“Little girl,” I hear a raspy voice say.

I smile against the comforter. Ah, yes. This is a good dream. The kind that I never want to wake up from.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry I left you.”

The stroking of my hair, the sound and smell of him…Dream Dorian almost seems real. So real that I know it will kill me when I wake, only to discover that he’s not there.

The bed shifts beside me, and with eyes still closed, I frown.
No
. Someone wants to take him away. I need this right now. I have nothing left to hold onto.

The hand travels from the crown of my head, down to the side of my neck. I remember that touch. The feel of his skin on mine is something I could never, ever forget. His fingerprint is permanently embedded in my flesh.

“I tried. I tried to come back to you. I felt you with me—always. It killed me inside to hurt you.”

“Then why did you?” I ask Dream Dorian. What else do I have to lose? If talking to a figment of my imagination is what it takes to be close to him, then that’s what I’ll do.

“I couldn’t fight it. It was like being petrified inside myself. I could see and hear, but I was powerless. But I knew you would fight. I knew you wouldn’t let me go.”

The fingers slide to my chin, forcing my head up from the bed. I try to struggle against it, but there’s no fight left in me.

“Open your eyes, little girl.”

I try to shake my head, refusing to abandon this beautiful delusion, but my head is just too heavy. The hand cradles my cheek lovingly and brushes away frustrated tears.

“It’s ok. I’m here now. You don’t have to fight anymore. Let me fight for you.”

“Dorian?” There’s only a strangled whisper left.

“Yes, Gabriella. I’m here. I’m here, baby.”

I force my eyelids open, fully expecting to find that this dream is really just a cruel nightmare. However, blue eyes stare back at me, bordered by long, dark lashes. Full, lush lips spread into a crooked smile. Smooth, tan skin warms against me with vitality.

He sighs with relief, and I feel his cool breath fan across my face. Another hand reaches towards me, and begins to pull me into the bed beside him. And when his lips cover mine, tasting of regret and bliss and love, I know without a doubt that this isn’t a dream. Dorian has come back to me.

A surge of adrenaline spikes in my veins, and I nearly tackle him. “You’re…
here
. You
know
me. But…how…why…”

Dorian laughs, and there’s color in my world again. “Of course, I know you. And I love you. Hear me now—I love you, Gabriella. And I never stopped. I promise you that.”

I grip his body, holding onto him like he’s going to slip away again. Praying that this isn’t some sick joke that will take my Dorian from me for good. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, remembering his scent of ocean and rainwater, and cry grateful tears. Something I haven’t done in a long, long time.

“Well, it’s about damn time,” I hear Niko say beside us. Dorian shifts as they embrace, but his arms come right back around me.

“Glad to have you back, brother,” Alex says, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Alexander,” Dorian says, his voice pensive. “Please forgive me. I promise you, I—”

“No need,” my father says, a smile in his voice. The two shake hands before giving into a one-armed bro hug.

Morgan hugs him next, playfully smacking him for scaring the shit out of us. When he tries to apologize for putting a knife to her throat, her response is much like Alex’s.

“Just love my girl. That’s how you can make it up to me. Love her and never let her go.”

Dorian murmurs a heartfelt response, causing Morgan to break into a soft sob as she steps aside to let Lars through.

“Thank you,” Dorian says, shaking his hand. “You are an incredibly courageous soul, and I am grateful of the sacrifice you made to give me my life back. I am in your debt. Whatever you desire, it is yours.”

I look up to see Lars bow his head. “It was my honor to serve Gabriella. And if there is anything I could request, it is that you rule with compassion and fairness for all of the Divine’s creatures. And may your reign be a long and prosperous one.”

“Reign?” Dorian frowns, looking to Niko, who nods, his expression regretful.

“Father. He is…dead. Slain at the hands of our mother.” He steps forward and takes his brother’s hand. “The throne is yours now, brother.”

Dorian falls quiet and still, frozen in shock. I watch his face for any signs of a reaction—joy, shame, sadness—but he’s blank. As if the thought of being king doesn’t affect him at all.

“We still have much to discuss,” Niko recovers. “Obviously, you will have to meet with—”

Dorian raises a hand, halting any further talk about his newly acquired position. “There will be time for that. But first…first, there’s something I must do.”

He shifts beside me so his body is facing mine, and takes my hands in his. “Gabriella, I’ve walked the earth for two and a half decades, searching for the other half of my soul. I’ve done unspeakable things in that quest and, in turn, have experienced tremendous pain. But nothing has ever wounded me more than hurting you. A link may no longer lie between us, but I will always shoulder your pain. I will always share your joy. And no matter what, I will always love you with every breath in my body. When I met you, I didn’t just find the other half of my soul, I found the reason for every heartbeat. Every teardrop. Every ounce of blood in my veins. You are my life, little girl.
My everything.
And if you will have me, I would be honored to be your husband.”

Wide eyes explore his, searching for any signs of jest.
“What?”

He smiles at my flabbergasted expression, those lips doing devious things to my stuttering heart. “Marry me, Gabriella.”

“But you said…you couldn’t.
You wouldn’t.
And now you’re king.”

“And as king, I want you by my side. As my wife and my queen. I’ve wasted so much time without you. I can’t wait another second.”

I shake my head in disbelief, trying to make sense of what he’s offering. “But, I can’t…I can’t give you an heir. I can’t give you what you want. What you
need.”

His hands grasp my cheeks, so I’m forced to see the earnestness on his face. “The only thing I want and need is you, Gabriella. Nothing else matters, and I mean that down to the very marrow of my bones. So say yes. Say you’ll be mine for eternity. Because I can live without an heir. I can’t live without you.”

I look over at my friends and family, seeing varied looks of excitement and joy reflected on their faces. Even Niko looks genuinely content. He tips his head to me, telling me it’s ok. That
he’ll
be ok. And no matter what, I won’t lose him.

“Yes,” I breathe, turning back to Dorian’s expectant face. “Yes, yes, yes. Yes, I will marry you, Dorian!”

The room breaks into cheers and more joyful tears as Dorian wraps me in his arms, squeezing the air from my lungs. I don’t complain. I relish his sweet suffocation. My Dorian is back, and he’s mine. Forever.

“I love you, little girl,” he whispers, kissing the side of my face. His mouth moves to capture mine in a kiss that makes my soul weep. “In life and in death,” he mumbles against my lips. “From now until eternity. And when we’re nothing more than dust and bone, I’ll love you some more, because you are my destiny. I was placed on this earth to love you, and no curse or spell or enemy force could ever take you away from me.”

The earth shifts on its axis as two great forces of nature collide, folding into one another. Existing only for the other to thrive. This man—this mighty storm—is my sole reason of being. And when I fell in love with him, I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the gravity of this beautifully insane life. And I fell into forever.

WHEN THE THREAD of your existence has been stretched and pulled to the threat of breaking more times than you can count, you don’t waste time with human, social formalities.

No.

You get married within 24 hours of the proposal.

At least, that’s how Dorian explained it. And I have to say, I couldn’t agree more. Why let another second go by when we both know how we want to spend eternity? What would we be waiting for?

We’ve suffered through the unthinkable. Lived through trials and tribulations that should have otherwise claimed our last breaths. And now…now we’re free. And I can’t think of any other way that I want to spend our newly gained freedom than becoming Dorian’s wife.

His
wife.

It almost doesn’t seem real. Every time I feel our relationship has taken a turn for the better, malevolence derails us from our path, sending us into a tailspin of tragedy. I thought we’d never get off that ride. And now there’s nothing standing in our way. No secret evil that wants to tear us apart. Dorian will be king, and he will work to right the wrongs set forth by his people, hoping to push his race back to their true purpose: the rulers of Night. They were never inherently evil; they were just corrupted by those who were.

Once Dorian announced that we would be wed the very next day—today—Morgan jumped into planning. With Lars’s help, she arranged a cake, catering, flowers, décor and even a dress. I could only sit back and let her take the reins. The girl is a beast in her own right. I swear, she could probably run her own small country, all the while remaining stylish from the top of her Brazilian blowout to the tips of her shellac pedicure.

So here I am, draped in sheer, ivory lace and intricate, champagne beading by Inbal Dror while Morgan fusses over my hair. Luckily, the gown is nontraditional and daring without being too sexy. It’s absolutely stunning, and I could not imagine marrying Dorian in anything else.

“There! Perfect!” she trills, taking a step back to admire her handiwork. Everything from my makeup to my shoes is all her doing, and her talent amazes me.

I stand to gaze at myself, and gasp at the girl who looks back at me. Soft smoky lids frame her dual-colored eyes, her cheeks are flush with a shimmering shade of coral and her full lips glimmer with a nude-pink tint. A thousand ringlets are fastened with a diamond-studded hair comb at the nape of her neck, leaving a few wispy tendrils to frame her face. She’s beautiful—the perfect bride on this perfect day.

“Oh, God, Morgan,” I whisper, lips trembling. I turn around to take her in my arms, almost knocking her off her strappy gold heels. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

She squeezes me back with all her might. “You deserve it, sweetheart. You deserve the world.”

We hold each other for several minutes before pulling away, smiling through soft sniffles.

“Now I know it’s a human thing, but humor me,” she says, resting her hands on my shoulders from behind. “I was bestowed the honor of providing your something old.”

Morgan reveals a small box, heavily decorated in tulle and pearls. “It required some help from Alex, but we thought you should have this today of all days.”

I open the box to find the photograph that changed my world. Chris, Donna, Natalia, Alexander and Dorian stand together, laughing…loving. And there, resting peacefully within my mother’s womb, is me. I run my finger over the spot where her hands cradle her belly, trying to conjure what it would have felt like to have those arms wrapped around me. And while I may have never felt her embrace or the warmth of her smile, I know that she’s always been with me. That little voice in my head—comforting me when I was weak, helping me when I was lost—my mother. I knew it all along.

“Thank you,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes. I try to blink them away, knowing Morgan will pitch a fit if I smudge my mascara. Or maybe not, judging by her watery gaze.

She wraps her arms around me and squeezes me with all her might. “I love you, Gabs, and I’m just so thankful that I could share this day with you.” She steps away, swiping the space under her eyes. “Maybe one day, we’ll do this for me. Although, I’m not quite sure I’m ready to turn in my Playa Card just yet.”

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