Blakeshire (Insight #9)(22)



“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.”

That was part of the reason that he and I had went to my home dimension last night. I told him as we ate our dessert after a formal dinner that none of that elegance was real. He wanted me to show him real. So I did.

“I don’t need the power of royalty to keep you safe or make you happy. I’ve told you that before.”

“Then answer my question. Why not now?”

“For one, it’s not safe; two, your room is not ready.”

“There are, like, five thousand rooms in that palace. I’m sure I can find a place to rest,” I snapped, even though resting was not on my agenda. I planned to canvas all of those paintings and find a clue as to what I was supposed to be afraid of. I wasn’t going to let that cat out of the bag just yet, though. For several reasons, one being that Drake would think I was using him to chase my obsession and that simply wasn’t true. Even when I had fear, deep down I wanted to be with him. Because next to him I felt…complete.

“I may not have been raised in Chara, but there are some aspects of it that my father instilled in me, and right now your room is not ready.”

“When will it be?”

“Tomorrow, maybe,” he said with a shy smile dangling on the edge of his lips.

“Do you not have a kingdom to run?”

“Marc is there.”

“You hate him doing that for you,” I said faintly, which was true. Drake didn’t like anyone standing in his place, simply because it was one of the most dangerous places in the universe. Everyone was out to take him down, each for their own nefarious reasons. That is why power is so dangerous: you must fight to get it, and once you have it you need to fight to keep it.

“There are no engagements that I have to be at for a while. He’s fine.”

“Does Alamos know you are here?”

I didn’t really know the man that was basically Drake’s last standing father figure well, but I knew without a doubt that Alamos was furious with me and Drake for taking off last night.

“Not a clue.”

“So what? We chill here until Landen or someone else comes to wake us to fight our war.”

Landen had awakened us this morning and helped rush us to our waiting battle. That was awkward, the two of us traveling next to Willow and Landen. Drake kept a pensive stare on Willow. If I didn’t have my jacked up sense of emotion, I might have found cause to be even more jealous, but I knew that he was just hoping that Willow could still play the role that he swore they were acting out for the ghost of the palace. Willow had kept her distance since I had been found—surely to give me and Drake a chance to get to know one another—but Drake wanted to make sure that distance wasn’t far enough away to point an arrow right at me.

In Drake’s mind, as long as it was thought that he was pulled to Willow, fighting for her, the ghost he was fighting would leave me be. His reasoning struck me as odd, but in some twisted way it made sense.

He reached his arms behind his head, causing his lean muscles to flex and my heart to skip a few beats. “If you’re not tired, we can talk.”

“About?” I asked as I dared to lie down next to him.

“Your obsession.”

On the inside, I recoiled a bit. I had too many to name. “I don’t talk about my obsessions. I chase them.”

“Interesting,” he breathed.

“Why is that?” I said as I moved to my side so I could gaze at him. It was so hard to believe that he was real. That a prince was lying next to me.

He didn’t answer for what seemed like forever, but just after he moved to his side to face me, just as my heart pounded when he reached to trace my bottom lip and his entrancing stare moved there, he spoke. “I’m obsessive, too. In my mind, I have lived a million lives.”

“In the past, I know,” I said as I closed my eyes. As far as I was concerned, Willow was lying right here in the middle of us.

The scent of roses intensified in the room, bringing heat to my soul. I had to figure out why that aroma dominated his vessel when he was alone with me. Why it lingered with devotion. Why it enticed my very being.

“No, in the future. A future that was safe, that was a happily ever after.”

“Peaks and valleys; there is no ever after.”

“Perhaps,” he breathed as his fingertip continued to explore my bottom lip. “But both would be easy to manage if you were whole, connected so deeply that nothing could part you from the one you loved.”

My breath seized. I was almost positive I felt love dwelling in his emotion. It was only hard for me to perceive because this kind of love had never been directed at me, and I knew from enduring this sixth sense for so long that no two couples feel that emotion the same way, to the same degree. I also knew that those who felt it at their core also felt fear, a fear that they would be divided. It was hard enough to keep myself straight, my friends safe. Worrying about a person that was half my soul was almost too much to bear, especially if that soul had one of the most dangerous occupations on the planet. “Nothing but death.”

An odd grin hovered on the corners of his lips. “Why are you so morbid?”

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