Blakeshire (Insight #9)(26)
Around others, around my friends, I sketched, drew like a proper artist—but in my mind that was very basic.
Right now I was craving some erratic release, but I doubted Olivia would care for me to redecorate her home. So, I opted to use Drake as a canvas; his arm anyway.
He had to have been exhausted simply because as I adjusted his arm so I could see my project, he never moved, didn’t even bother to furrow his brow.
I didn’t have words before when he explained this tattoo to me. The grief I could feel coming from him was too much to handle at the moment. Now I wanted to say what I couldn’t before.
This tattoo was an elaborate willow tree, one that was identical to the ones that we could both remember. Around it, a very detailed dragon was clinging to the branches, making it seem as if it were both protecting that memory and finding shelter within that lost moment.
Along the base of the tree in the most elegant script I could manage I wrote: first, last, forever. Along the branches that moved in every direction I wrote my name, and every name I could remember from my past lives.
I grinned when my work was done. For a split second, I thought about washing off my artwork—it would be humiliating if he caught me doing this, and just as bad when he saw it in the morning. Just as I decided that this was doing nothing but toying with his mind and that I’d crossed a line that didn’t need to be crossed, he pulled his arm away and firmly placed it against his chest.
His brow furrowed. “Madison…”
I swallowed nervously and waited for the humiliation to begin, but he never stirred after that.
I stayed still as a statue, watching him in the dim light. He would flinch every now and again. More often than not, a sultry smile would come to the corners of his lips. When I focused, I could see flashes of what he was dreaming about. Every flash produced an image of me. Heat absorbed my skin as I saw how real, how vivid, and how sensual his dreams were. It was almost like he had taken our past and merged it with some as of yet unclaimed future.
Sure that he was deep in REM sleep, I leaned closer and in his ear whispered, “I do love you, Drake Blakeshire. I’m going to fight for you. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”
Right about then, the heavy scent of mint filled the air. It was so strong that it was more of a deep peppermint aroma. I breathed in, knowing it wasn’t coming from Drake. That was when I felt a weighted stare and glanced to the foot of the bed.
My heart stopped. We were not alone.
Chapter Six
Madison
At the foot of the bed was a man; he was young, yet his dominant essence gave me the impression that he was older than time itself. His shoulders were broad and gave way to a sleek warrior build. His eyes—man, those eyes; they were deep gray, but light was shining through them, making them look like dim diamonds. They complimented his dark hair and golden skin. He tilted his head slightly back and stared down at me over his perfectly chiseled profile.
I clenched Drake’s arm, trying to wake him. Even though my nails were all but drawing blood, he didn’t move.
“He’s not going to wake. I have supplied him with dreams. Dreams that are nearly overdue to come true.”
“Who are you?” I said in the toughest voice I could manage. I may not have any fear, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t know when I was outmatched.
“Shall we talk outside?” That wasn’t a question; I was sure of it.
Right as he said that, I vanished from where I was lying and appeared on the balcony outside of the guest room. I abruptly turned around, trying to gain my bearings.
“Vade,” I heard coming from my side.
I glanced to my side to this man that might as well be a god.
“You asked my name, and I answered,” he stated evenly.
“And what are you doing here, Vade?” I asked bleakly, ignoring the cold night that was blanketing my bare shoulders with layer upon layer of chills.
He nodded to the door to the room where Drake was sleeping. “I came to see my son.”
My heart stopped. My senses had almost committed to the idea of trusting this soul, but that last line knocked him down to the title of enemy.
Vade crossed his arms as he casually leaned against the railing of the balcony. “No, I’m not Livingston. I’m not his Earthly father.”
Of all the times for me to lose half my insights, this was not a good one. I couldn’t see any auras around this guy, and I could detect no clear emotion beyond anger coming from him. And no matter how hard I tried, I could not see anything. Not even flashes of who or what he was.
“I’m blind here, man. You are going to have to be a little bit clearer. Are you trying to tell me you are a god or something?”
He smiled darkly. “I’m a sovereign.”
I nodded once as I pushed my hands into my jeans and furrowed my brow.
“No questions?” he said as those eyes angled in my direction. “The girl that is said to one day rule obsession has no questions?”
Well, if that wasn’t the oddest reputation to have built up, I didn’t know what was. Who was this guy, and how in the hell did he know anything about me?
“What do you rule, Vade?”
A wicked grin came to his stern image. “Anger.”
“Right,” I muttered, knowing that everyone had a baseline emotions and anger was his. I had only met a couple others in my life that carried the same signature—a couple meaning my cousin Draven, and Drake—and now come to think of it, Vade’s energy felt like them.