Tempted by a Rogue Prince (20 page)

He had moved Heaven, Hell and the mortal realm to find his brother’s fated female, the one who would be worthy of his brother’s compassion and devotion, and would draw his love away from Vail.

So he could end his miserable existence without hurting his brother.

But his brother’s love for him hadn’t faded when Vail had gifted him with Olivia.

Gods help him, but it had only grown stronger.

Vail dug his claws through his black hair and pulled it back. He pressed the tips into his scalp, trying to focus on the pain in order to ground himself enough to allow him to bring the barriers back up. He couldn’t take it. The feel of Loren reaching for him, encompassing him in love he didn’t deserve, was too much.

He threw his head back, arching his chest towards the black vault of Hell, and unleashed every drop of his fury, his pain and his despair in a growl that sounded more beast than elf. His lips drew back from his fangs in a grimace and tears cut down his temples, racing into his hairline.

His chest heaved, his heart labouring as the memories came crashing down on him from all sides, sweeping in to batter him and carry him away.

The scent of nature swirled around him, soft and enchanting, a meadow in full bloom, transporting him back to his vision of wild flowers and tall grass, and lazing under an oak. He could almost see the sunlight playing through the leaves, each magical shaft of light catching his attention and bringing him peace.

“Breathe, Vail,” she whispered and rather than push her away as every dark instinct screamed at him to do, he focused on her and pulled her closer instead. “Just breathe through it.”

He sensed her hands hovering close to his elbows, felt her heat wrapping around him with her scent and the constant quiet hum of magic she emanated.

His heart settled as he did as she instructed, slowing his breathing to match hers and then bringing it down further, to a normal rhythm for him. The connection between him and his brother cleared, and he swore he felt surprise through it, laced with fear.

Vail opened his eyes, his palms trembling against the sides of his head, holding it with crushing force that made his skull ache.

Little Wild Rose stood over him, hands just above his elbows, the chain between her manacles pulled tight. She ghosted her palms back and forth along his arms but didn’t touch him, and he was grateful for it. He was barely holding it together, her voice and presence the only thing keeping him grounded. That would change if she dared to lay her hands on him, even when part of him wished it wouldn’t—ached to be able to bear her touch just this once because he needed the comfort.

He needed to know he wasn’t lost beyond hope, too maddened by his history to ever come back.

“Breathe,” she whispered with a half smile. “Let go of your head now. Come back to me.”

To her?

His hands fell away from the sides of his head, dropping into his lap, and he stared up at her, searching her blue eyes for the truth and shocked when he found it there among other things he couldn’t decipher. All of it on show for him. None of it hidden.

Gods, he ached with a fierce need to pull her into his arms and hold her, to see if she was truly real and that she truly was his ki’ara, and it wasn’t all another trick to strip him of power and enslave him.

But he couldn’t trust himself.

The bond between him and his brother rippled with emotion, giving him the comfort he could never allow himself to receive from Rosalind.

Fair Rosalind.

His Little Wild Rose.

She stood before him, a slender sylph-like creature who had witnessed the worst in him but somehow found the strength to bravely step within his reach and risk everything in order to bring him light in his darkest moments. She seemed more fantasy than reality, too good and pure of heart to be anything other than a figment of his demented mind, something dreamed up in a fit of madness for him to cling onto and hold to his chest.

A beautiful shadow of the hope that had long ago died in him.

“You going to kneel there all night giving her moon eyes or are we good to get moving again?” Fenix’s deep voice boomed around the valley, reminding Vail that they weren’t alone.

He wasn’t sure what the term ‘moon eyes’ meant but he presumed it was not a good thing.

Or perhaps it was something unsettling judging by Rosalind’s reaction.

Her cheeks turned dark pink and she busied herself with the boots he had given to her, slipping her cut bare feet into them and diligently keeping her eyes away from him.

Vail scrubbed away all sign of his tears and held the connection between him and his brother open for a few seconds more, cherishing the deep bond between them, before he closed it.

He rose to his feet and waited for the witch. She shuffled around in his boots, testing them out.

His boots.

Vail growled low in his throat at that, the sight of her wearing one of his few possessions awakening a startling reaction in him. He liked it.

When she lifted her head and flashed him a brilliant smile, one that relayed her gratitude and said his thoughtfulness had touched her, he experienced an even more startling reaction.

His gaze dropped to her rosy lips and he felt a low tug in his belly, a yank in her direction together with a sudden urge to do something horrific.

He wanted to kiss her.

He flashed his fangs and hissed at her instead. “
Witch
.”

She backed off a step, hurt flickering across her face, causing her smile to fall away. She opened her mouth, snapped it shut again and spun on her heel, giving him her back. He kept his boots firmly planted to the black earth until she was over two metres away and then he started after her, keeping the distance between them steady as he slowly, piece by piece, destroyed the dark need she had somehow placed inside him.

Her restraints weren’t working and she had cast a spell on him to force him into wanting her, just as Kordula had done before her.

The remaining sensible part of him whispered that it wasn’t magic. Her powers were still at a low level just within range of his sharp senses. They hadn’t grown stronger.

It was the bond then.

She had wanted to kiss him and the bond had wanted to force his compliance in order to satisfy his female’s needs.

Vail settled on that as the reason behind his need to kiss her and closed in on her as they drew near to the end of the valley.

“You will rest ahead. I will stand guard while you and Fenix sleep.” He fell into step beside her, but kept some distance between them, so the constant level of magic she radiated didn’t push him over the edge.

He couldn’t afford such a thing when he was still fighting the effects of opening his bond with Loren in order to bypass the barrier he had placed on the elf kingdom millennia ago, shutting Kordula out.

Now, he used that same barrier to keep him from returning whenever he was weak and wanted to see his homeland again. As much as he desired it, longed for it, the elf kingdom was no longer his home. None there would welcome him after the terrible things he had done to his people and to his brother.

Little Wild Rose looked across at him and shook her head, causing her blonde tangled waves to bounce against her shoulders. “I don’t sleep.”

Vail frowned. She didn’t sleep? All creatures required sleep, even witches. He looked deep into her eyes, trying to detect whether it was the result of a spell, or she had a reason she didn’t want to sleep.

Was it because of the dark things he had felt in her back in the solitary cell? She had been gripped by a sort of madness, a hallucination that had shaken her and had made him feel she shared something in common with him.

Something haunted her.

Did it haunt her sleep too?

If it did and she refused to sleep because of it, then whatever awaited her in her dreams had to terrify her.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her, the words all lined up and all very civil, when she turned her cheek to him and sped up.

Vail bit back a growl of frustration. Was he this frustrating to her? Whenever he thought he could speak civilly to her and might learn something about her and come to understand how she affected him so deeply and was able to bring him out of the darkness, she distanced herself.

She turned quiet and thoughtful, drawing into herself and away from him. Whatever she was thinking, it troubled her. He felt the weight of it on his heart, a steady ache laced with fear.

They entered the canyon, the steep cragged black sides rising to over one hundred feet above them. He had to drop behind her again, the winding rocky corridor too narrow for them to walk side by side. The vertical walls stole all light, plunging the path ahead into darkness. Fenix led the way, scrambling up an incline before disappearing over the brow, his fae sight most likely as clear as Vail’s was despite the darkness.

“Bugger.” Rosalind slammed face first into the path, her pain echoing in his right knee and palms. “Bloody sod it. This is stupid. I can’t see a damned thing!”

Vail cursed himself. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see in the dark without a spell to aid her.

She huffed and ground out a few things in the fae tongue that he didn’t understand, but that drew a chuckle from Fenix. Vail’s name came up.

They were speaking of him to each other, knowing he couldn’t understand them.

He snarled at her and then Fenix, and the incubus wisely turned away and kept walking, swinging his blade up to rest on his bare shoulder.

“Why do you not sleep?” Vail refused to be civil now she had resorted to speaking about him behind his back but right in front of him, no doubt saying nasty things about him. Things he probably deserved. “You require rest.”

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. She dusted herself off and started walking again, bending forwards and using her hands to feel the path ahead.

The chain between her manacles jangled on the black rocks.

Vail grimaced. “Are you upset because I refused to release you?”

She shook her head but he wasn’t convinced.

He ventured closer and glanced down at her wrists. They were bloodied where the thick metal cuffs clamped tightly around her slender arms, new scars forming on her dirty skin. He dragged his gaze away, shame spiralling through him and leaving him feeling wretched that his fear of her hurting him was causing him to hurt her.

“What are your powers?” he whispered, afraid she might answer and he might not like it. He had met light witches in his time, those devoted to good and helping others. Was she one of their kind?

“I would never use them on you, Vail. We’re allies.” The glance she gave him said that she thought about them as more than allies.

She desired him.

The darkness within him was swift to rise, surging up like an unstoppable tide to sweep him away. A growl rumbled through him, his fangs lengthening in response to the threat she posed, and he backed off a step to stop himself from shoving her away.

She meant to deceive him. She wanted to lure him into her web and place him under her spell. She was vile and treacherous.

She would enslave him the moment he let down his guard.

No. Vail clawed himself back from the brink, refusing to surrender to the darkness and the need for violence stirring within him. He gritted his teeth and battled his urge to lash out at her, to hurt her before she could do the same to him.

She stared at him, her blue eyes enormous, sparkling with silver stars.

Vail bared his fangs at her.

She withdrew another step, her hands rising to her chest, the action cutting at him together with the hurt and fear that flickered in her eyes. An overwhelming need to reach out and comfort her surged through him, a desire to apologise and make amends, even as the darker part of him whispered that this was his chance to strike without her seeing it coming.

Vail tunnelled his black claws into his hair, pressing their sharp tips into his scalp, and focused on the pain, using it to drive that compelling voice out of his head.

He chuckled under his breath as his heart twisted, torn by conflicting desires, and the voice grew stronger, mocking him.

No female in her right mind would ever desire a male like him.

He had never been good like Loren, not even before the sorceress had driven him mad, pushing him over the brink with glee and sending him plummeting into insanity. His behaviour around the witch was a clear indication of how bad he was inside—how evil—and how weak he was too. He couldn’t shake his instinct to protect himself whenever she used a trace of her power around him, or drew too close to him. That instinct made him twitchy and snappish, and filled him with a violent need to harm her in order to save himself.

What kind of female could ever desire a male such as that?

A ki’ara deserved love and respect. She deserved to be cherished and protected, kept safe by her devoted mate, pampered and given all she desired.

He could never do such a thing for her. He couldn’t give her the life she deserved as an eternal mate. His fated female.

He would forever be a danger to her, more likely to harm her than protect her, to put her through hell than give her a life filled with comfort and love. She would never feel secure around him, would always doubt his actions and his feelings, believing on some level that he despised her because of what she was, and that would constantly play on his mind, keeping him on edge and the darkness a relentless presence at the back of his mind, waiting to strike.

He closed his eyes, shutting out the witch and the world around him, searching deep within himself for a glimmer of good, for something that would make him worthy of any female or anyone’s affection.

Four thousand years ago, before he had met Kordula at the borders of his kingdom, he might have been worthy of the love of a good female.

Finding his fated one had been everything to him back then, and even his prediction about her hadn’t swayed him from his mission to locate her.

His female would be a sorceress and when they met, he would be maddened.