Imperial (Insight #8)(14)

Within the springs, you could not only pull energy that petals had brought to The Realm, but you could also see every dimension, each city within them from there. It was a tremendous source of power that sovereigns kept in their establishments. Vade’s was the most elaborate of them all, obviously, as two lines at one time shared that power.

With each step, my soul quaked. Part of me wanted to rip Vade apart with everything I had left in the way of supremacy; the other part was panicky about looking him in the eyes once again. What kind of being could give you fever with just the thought of them?

I kept remembering the first time I saw him—from my deathbed, at the end of a tormented life. I remembered how much care the almighty favored king had given a broken human girl. I remembered the feel of his humming skin against mine. How each powerful movement of his lips felt. The sound of his voice, that powerful, sensual way he pronounced every sound that left his perfectly shaped mouth. I remembered how the room would fill with electricity when he felt any emotion. I remembered how his rush felt. His fever.

Cursing myself, I let the last fight soar through my thoughts. The one where he told me I could not change who we were. That it was called progression. That I had to learn to give a damn about someone besides myself before I even began to try to experiment with our power. The one where he told me I was selfishly killing my line by not feeding them or ruling them properly. I remembered telling him that I didn’t need him or anyone to tell me how to care for my own—I told him he was threatened by me and that I would give him every reason to rationalize those fears.

We both had solid points within that raging argument, ones that we were too stubborn to let go; that was nothing new. We were both passionate souls. The thing was, if he had chosen any other time to talk to me about how I was leading my line to feed, our lives would not have ended up this way. After that fight, I was determined to show him that I could lead without his advice or power. Sometimes stubbornness gets you in more trouble than anger, or any other emotion for that matter.

Time would have allowed us to see past that fight, find a compromise, much like we did with all the ones before that point. But time was something that was not afforded to the pair of us.

Instead, my First was betrayed. My line was disbursed. I died. And he did not come for me. And now, now I have no idea what the hell has happened. All I know is that sacred rules were broken, that our Creator was most likely hanging His head in shame. That our demises were on the horizon.

I knew that within this moon there were two females in this mansion. That his scent, one that was a rich mint, was within the same room with those girls.

Horrid visions filled my thoughts of him with others. The idea of him with another was far more wicked than the notion that crossing lines was now openly accepted when it came to fevers. He was mine, and the thought of another near him enraged my soul and allowed me to push those girlish thoughts down into the cage of my soul.

With a firm grip on my raging emotions, I began to manifest through the mansion, passing priceless paintings, sculptures, and all things regal that Vade had collected over his interminable existence.

After one more deep breath, I gathered all my rage and appeared before the double red doors that led to his private world inside of this mansion.

My emotions were so powerful that a wind picked up as I gazed at the closed doors, blowing my long auburn hair off my bare shoulders. The mansion rumbled with the power I was pushing through my soul.

That instant, the doors flew open and thunder erupted, the bright lights of the mansion dimmed and flashed on and off, trying to find balance with the ethereal electrical current that was now saturating the air.

He was standing there with his classic stoic pose. Just a few feet back from the doorway. His hair was just as dark as I remembered; silk strands of jet-black locks were gently rustled out of his eyes. Those eyes. Gun metal gray if he was near rest, but otherwise shards of light pierced through them, making them seem like ice in one glance, diamonds in another.

He was dressed in all black, enhancing the darker tone of his well-nourished skin. His broad shoulders tensed under his tight black shirt, along with every muscle I could see exposed in his lean warrior stance.

I screamed at myself to hold the anger I had when I felt the wind around me die down.

The wrath welcomed the call, and my power grasped everything within my reach and flung it forward. Priceless vases, paintings, and furniture from across time flew through the air at him. I boldly stepped forward and focused, ensuring that my wrath hit its target.

Within that breath, everything returned to its home, the wind ceased, the lights remained on. Vade was grasping a vase—one of his favorites—that I had sent soaring at him. Holding my stare, he gently released it from his long, powerful fingers and let it rest on the table beside him.

The doors behind me slammed closed, but I was not letting this end. He may be all big and bad, able to counter my power, but he was about to see how powerful a ticked off woman could be.

Before I could blink, he’d vanished. Coward.

Wait. No. Were those his hands sliding down my waist? His breath on my neck? His firm body just behind mine? Yes. Yes, it was. Oh, he was playing dirty.

Before I could lash back at him, his long, powerful arms surrounded me. His fiery lips brushed against my neck, sending a vibration of energy through every part of me, yet focusing squarely on the core of my vessel, the part of my body that had only belonged to him. My knees buckled, but he caught me, holding me firmly against him. All this time, and my vessel had not forgotten him. In the past, my body would always react before my mind could rationalize the response; this wasn’t the first time I’d melted in his arms. Creator help me, I didn’t want it to be the last.