Blakeshire (8 page)

Drake swayed as if a stagnant force had struck him.

After a moment, he spoke. “I have conditions, too.”

“Listening.”

“You sleep where I tell you to.”

Oh, was that a dare? Bring it.

“Done.”

A sinful smile echoed on his forbidden lips.

“We chase your obsessions together,” he said as he raised his brow.

“Do you not have a kingdom to run?”

“Oh, I do, but the death of their king was announced. This morning, the court was placed in mourning. Call it a vacation for me. My calendar is empty at the moment, and when the mourning is over I will be courting my queen. So, you are stuck with me for a while.”

I was only supposed to play the part of a queen courting him for a night, a few occasions after that point. Seemed that everyone here had neglected to see past that point. I guess they were waiting to see if we all survived, and if we did then they would have to come up with a new plan.

I nodded once to tell him I agreed. There were worse things in life than being stuck at Drake Blakeshire’s side.

“And I will not take you to meet my father until my cold heart finds warmth.”

That blew my mind. This boy was the very definition of heat; at least that’s the sensation he seemed to effortlessly inject into my very core.

I lifted my brow. “I’m calling your B.S. You’re not cold. Never have been.”

“Madison Marie, you have seen how cruel I can be.”

That was true, too. The dimension he ruled was ruthless. If you did the slightest thing wrong, you were put to death. Drake never executed anyone that didn’t really deserve it, but he had stood side by side with priests who had hurt innocents, and he didn’t stop them. He thought because I could see those actions I would agree with him, but the thing about seeing the living is that you see their perception of their actions. In his mind, he was biding his time, waiting for his queen so then he would have the power to stop all of the evil.

“I see a boy that needs to stop dwelling on his past and learn to look ahead to the future.”

“I could say the same about the beautiful woman before me now. So then, the question becomes are we going to give each other that chance?”

See how he does that? Takes my words and wraps them back around, forcing me to answer questions that I didn’t have the courage to. “I don’t buy that every word you have said to Willow has been for show.”

“Not all of them were. Not the ones before I laid eyes on you.”

“You told her you loved her in Chara after you met me,” I snapped back.

He wasn’t surprised at all that I called him out on that. He smiled darkly. “Maybe I was looking to elicit a reaction from you. Maybe I was a little ticked off that you were hung up on some boy that had no right to hold you as far as I was concerned. Maybe, just maybe I knew you would see that, and I was trying to see if you gave a damn.”

“He never held me. Untouched,” I said just under my breath, feeling both instant joy and anger surfacing within Drake. He was happy I was faithful to his memory but furious that he could not say the same, at least not about his past lives.

“I don’t play games, Drake. I may like a mystery, a bit of wit, but I do not play games.”

His eyes moved rapidly across me. “I’m sorry,” he said under his breath.

“For?” I breathed, feeling how sorry he really was deep in my soul. I felt sick. I’d pushed him too far; he was telling me that whatever this was had to end.

“For testing you.”

I closed my eyes, feeling utter relief. I had to learn to shut up. Not to nag on old arguments. Guilt absorbed me. I was the one that tested him, in every way.

“If I’m going with you, I need to get dressed,” I said as I opened my eyes and nodded for him to leave.

He stepped back and leaned against the vanity before crossing his arms.

“Seriously?”

A sinful smile echoed on his lips as he turned his head away.

He wanted to play? Fine, let’s play. When you don’t have fear, you develop nerve.

Slowly, I let my towel fall. I grinned on the inside when I saw him tense and heat come to his stoic, blank expression. The room was submerged in the scent of roses; it was intoxicating to my soul.

With more care and ease than I should have had, I dressed in the dark jeans and tank top that I had brought into the bathroom with me. I acted like he wasn’t even there when I brushed out my hair and started to pull the long dark strands into a French twist, so that I would in some way match the formal world he was asking me to step into.

“Leave it down,” he said under his breath.

I ignored him and pulled it tightly into place. Just as I put the last pin in the twist, he moved so he was standing behind me. I stared at his dark, taunting eyes next to my reflection, wondering how bad it irritated him that I didn’t listen to him.

“What’s wrong, Drake? Do I look too proper for you? Do I look too different from Willow now?” I asked slyly. Dam
mit, I did it again. I needed to learn to shut up.

That comment only intensified the anger I could feel from him.

He stepped forward so that his body was against mine. I held in the breath that wanted out as his hands clasped my waist. I felt his fingertips on the tender skin just beneath the rim of my jeans.

I saw that wicked grin that came to life right as I tensed. “No,” he murmured as his lips hovered just below my ear. Slowly, seductively he moved his lips so that they were touching my neck. Instant fire hotter than any lava ripped through me as a gasp left my lips and my head fell back, inviting him to continue his pursuit. He pulled me tightly against his firm body. Just when I was sure my knees would buckle, he stopped his tender kiss that had turned every inch of my skin crimson. “I just wanted to hinder this temptation for now.”

Damn. He matched my play.

As if he could read my thoughts, his grin grew. “I agree that games of the heart are fruitless," he said as he glanced over my reflection in the mirror, "but we can play these games
. All. Night. Long.”

“Drake Blakeshire. You are dangerous,” I breathed.

“Perhaps,” he said under his breath as he grabbed my bag from the counter.

Chapter Four

~Drake~

I had to walk out of that bathroom before I let every raging emotion in my body take control. That woman was a drug to me. She brought out the king in me, that harsh tone I had been groomed to use, yet somehow she brought out the real me, too. My very aged soul.

Chrispin was in the doorway. He caught me slowly raking my hand over my face, trying to get control. I glanced to the direction of the bathroom that was through a small closet and decided I didn’t want anyone, at least not any male, near her. I ushered him out of the bedroom, finding my other brother Marc in the hall waiting on me.

Marc could be my twin in the right clothes. He was the oldest. In a very real sense, if any of the nonsense my mother was speaking about before were true, then Marc was the first born in the Blakeshire bloodline. He was the
born
king, and more often than not he had to play that role for me, and he hated every single second of it.

“Mom thinks you ran,” he said to me evenly.

“We couldn’t let that happen until I give her an heir, now could we?” I responded coldly.

Neither of my brothers seemed to have any idea about what I was talking about, so I dropped it. Our mother was an angel in their eyes. Mine, too, but I knew her. They only had very young memories of her, and the recent ones she had given them showed her as a grieving widow who was fighting for each of her sons’ happiness—which was true in its own way, but still. I was the only son she had sacrificed, so I had a right to be a little ticked off right now.

“You want to run, say the word. Maybe that will keep Landen and Willow here,” Marc chided.

I knew exactly why they wanted Landen to stick around here. It was a secret that two future kings had shared as lost boys long ago. Landen didn’t want his fate any more than I did. I would be damned if I would forsake the bond we had built years ago any
more than I already had.

“You two think you can keep him here?”

They both looked away, knowing they couldn’t.

“I’m not running. I have earned a break. She comes first.”

“You can stay here as long as you want,” Chrispin offered.

I weighed my options right now, with Madison Marie first and foremost in my mind. There had been an epic battle at the palace tonight. Donalt was lurking. I knew if I took her to her wing, she would be safe, but I wanted it to be perfect before I did. She had to be exhausted, and even though it would not take me long to get her back to Esterious, I knew she would not rest when she got there. Apparently, she had an obsession in my palace she wanted to chase, which was fine with me. But I also knew she would use that as a distraction, place what was building between us in the back of her mind. Call me selfish, but I didn’t want to be second on her mind, not until I knew she understood the real me. The non-king Drake.

“I’m staying out of Esterious until she’s rested and strong. By then, Zander and all of you should have her wing ready.”

Marc met Chrispin’s stare, finding an ‘I told you so’ smirk.

“Apparently, Aden is coming with us, too. Where is Draven?” I asked.

“Healing.”

“Is he badly hurt?” I don’t know why, but I felt bonded to Draven. I knew his soul. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did. I had made a vow to myself to protect him the first instance I saw him.

“No, we all just need rest. We need to regroup,” Marc said, looking away from me.

There was that underlying message again. They wanted Landen and Willow here. I had the instincts to warn Landen that he was running out of time when it came to his own people, but something told me he already knew that.

I didn’t bother to respond; instead, I walked back into the room and locked the door behind me.

~Madison~

I had to close my eyes for a second, find my breath. Fear was still absent, but that boy wreaked havoc on my soul. He was so consuming that when he left my line of sight, I always felt cold. I felt my soul reach to pull his back to mine. No matter how jealous I was, I could not deny how at home I felt at his side. How alive I felt around him.

Once I had regained my balance, I reached to turn off the light. I had been hiding out in Olivia and Chrispin’s house. Olivia was Willow’s childhood friend who had been attached to me since Willow came for us nearly a week ago. Chrispin was her soul mate, and conveniently one of Drake’s brothers. Long lost brother.

Drake was truly a broken soul. He had been lied to his entire life, then out of nowhere he discovered that Willow was not who he thought she was, that his father, Livingston, had in some way lived a double life. That he had a family that he never knew
, tucked away in the dimension of Chara.

That would be a lot for anyone to take in, but add in the whole fight against evil and stand up to rule a damned dimension, and you had a broken man. It was hard not to have some degree of understanding for him.

There was a large walk-in closet just in front of this bathroom. One thing was for sure, no two homes in this dimension were built the same way. Olivia’s home had endless reading nooks and cubbyholes like this.

I moved past the closet and opened the door that had been closed slightly by Drake.

All the lamps in this guest room were off, with the exception of one of the ones on the bedside table—which was not how I left it. Darkness was not my friend; at least it wasn’t when I could feel fear.

I couldn’t see Drake, but I heard him and someone else’s muffled voice. Right as I went to put my shoes on, he came back in the bedroom and closed the door.

Acting as if this were some kind of regular routine, he slid off his shoes, took off his belt, and slowly started to unbutton his dark shirt.

“What are you doing?” I asked in the most nonchalant voice I could manage. How could he go from wanting to cover a temptation one moment to undressing in front of me the next?

“It’s late. I’m tired,” he said with a bit of a smirk as he pulled his shirt out of its tucked position and let each side fall open, revealing a tight black tank that amplified every firm muscle in his chest. For some reason, he decided to keep his button up shirt on as he made his way to my bag, which was on the dresser in front of the bed. He meddled around in the side pockets before finding my phone—a phone that definitely didn’t work in this dimension.

I’ll give him one thing: he was a fast leaner. He managed to find the music app, then my favorite playlist. The music was Draven and Aden’s, but it was low key, acoustic guitars and slow drums. I loved it simply because the lyrics were ones that I had written, ones that my dreams had always made me feel. Even though Draven hadn’t felt the emotions of the lyrics firsthand or in the same way, he sang them so perfectly that my soul hummed. That album was made as a birthday gift for me a few years back. I listened to it every night as I feel asleep, thinking of the boy that had inspired the emotion behind the music. Never in a million years would I have assumed that tonight
when that sound would be playing, that he would be standing a few feet away.

Last night, I had fumbled with my phone, waited for when I thought Drake was asleep before I slid on my headphones and fell into the sound. When I woke up—or should I say when we were woken up—I saw that one of the headphones was in Drake’s ear and the playlist was not only set to repeat, but turned up higher than I had left it.

Which led me to wonder if he knew how special that music was to me, or if right now he was silently telling me it was time to rest.

He set the phone on the bedside table.

“Are we not going home?”

A breathtaking grin spread across his lips as he hesitated and obviously replayed my question in his mind.

“It’s not safe yet,” he finally answered.

“When is it ever?” I quipped as I watched him lie down and stretch out, barely adjusting the mountain of pillows this queen bed had been decorated with.

“I may not be able to make all of it safe just now…but there are parts of it that I can.”

“Then let’s go to that part,” I argued.

“Not tonight,” he mumbled as those eyes of his drank in every part of me.

“Were you talking to Aden just now?” I asked, wondering if he was the reason we were not moving dimensions right now.

“Chrispin.”

“Are they telling you to keep me here?” I bit out. In some way, the members of Chara made me feel like my friends and I were precious cargo. I hated that. I really did.

“When do I ever listen to anyone?” he asked as his eyes carefully moved over me.

Hearing him say that made me remember something I had pulled from his thoughts a few nights ago when I was digging through his mind, trying to find proof that he deserved for me to be as furious with him as I was.

I already knew at that point that he had told Willow that it didn’t matter that she had found me, that he loved her soul. I was looking for ammo to add to that moment when I saw in detail a fight he’d had with his mother instead.

I saw him sitting alone in a private, elegant room for what seemed like forever. When Alamos came in the room, the old man regarded Drake with a fatherly stare, and Drake told him to make the arrangements for each of us to have our own quarters in the palace. As Alamos suggested a secure wing, Drake interrupted him. “My wing, my hall. It’s the safest place...for her.’” Alamos left the room swiftly to do as he was instructed. Beth, his mother, stepped out of the shadows in the elegant room and carefully looked over her son. “That’s not the safest place.”

Full of rage and confusion, his smoldering eyes met hers. She walked gracefully to his side and placed her hand on his broad chest, then moved her other hand to his shoulder. “This is, son.”

He looked away from her.

“I promised you that this day would come. Don’t ruin it. Be the man your father wanted you to be.”

Drake stood then stepped away from her as if they were having an unspoken argument about whoever his father was. “I’m not him,” he said tightly.

“No,” Beth mumbled. “But your father loved a stubborn, witty woman who had to have her way, who thought that love was trying and meaningless, something that only fools indulged in—and with his wit, his patience, his guarded submission, he gave me no choice but to fall in love with him.”

“Guarded submission...odd reference, considering his submission is the reason we are here, a divided family,” Drake seethed.

The expression on Beth’s face turned cold. Up to this point I’d taken her for the passive sort. “It was my decision. I told him not to fight. I told him that because I was selfish. Because I did not want my sons to grow up without a father. He submitted to me, and only me.”

“You need to explain that to your other sons. They blame me,” Drake said as his eyes filled with the remorse that was flooding his soul.

“No, they don’t.” Beth slowly walked away from him, but not before glancing back at him. “When I looked into her eyes, I saw the echo of everything I was, I am. Don’t question my certainty, son, or your heart.” She then left the room in haste.

In response to her last words, Drake picked up a priceless vase and flung it across the room; the sound of it crashing into the wall sent a shiver down my spine, bringing me back to the reality I was in. That fight had happened just before he came to dinner in Chara, just before I was struck and forevermore damaged in the way of insights.

Seeing that argument with his mother was what sparked the compassion I felt for this boy. I was sure that he was stubborn enough to ignore his mother, that he would make no attempt to hear her words. But Drake, as always, surprised me. He found his own way. And his way was an honest one. He never once tried to cover up the way he had or did feel about Willow, and he never once used his childhood as an excuse. Actually, Drake never supplied excuses, only facts that led to his reasoning. It was almost like he knew there was nothing he could do about the past; instead, he carried a heavy grief for what had happened to him, to his family. To us.

So knowing what I did know, I could not figure out why we could not go to whatever wing he had thought would be safe enough for us a few days ago.

“Aden was right, you know,” I muttered.

“About?”

“About the fact that I don’t like to be smothered. I don’t need someone to think for me. To protect me.”

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” he asked with a sigh.

“No, I want to go home.”

That smile was there again, a disbelieving one that matched his astonished emotions. I could not figure out why he felt that way, and that was driving me mad. “What’s with that look?”

He shrugged his shoulders against the pillows they were lying on.

“Why can we not go? If we stay here, they will find a way to talk you out of letting me go with you. Charlie will place some guilt trip on me for leaving.”

“Do you honestly think that anyone can stop me from fulfilling one of your requests?”

“I’ve told you before, Drake, the world is not like the palace. People do not have to do as you say
, when you say.”