Dark Reign Page 12

  Just a human.

  “Explain yourselves?” Julian demanded of the sentinels, his heavy gaze lifting from me to shift from one to the other as he towered over both, awaiting an explanation.

  His ‘Dynasty Brothers’, as he referred to them, stuck close to his side, but I didn’t miss the looks of confusion that marked their expressions. One by one, they observed me—the stranger who’d foolishly crashed the party of the century.

  I could only guess what they thought of me. At one point in the evening, I’d felt the unmistakable pull of attraction from each, but now I only sense their distrust.

  Both guards snatched burgundy berets from their heads, clutching them to their chests. Bryson prepared to respond first, gathering his thoughts, practically wreaking of weakness and inferiority. It all but oozed from his pores as he blinked crimson eyes at the East’s incumbent emperor.

  It was quite the sight, watching as these two tyrants shrank when Julian cast a single haughty glare down his nose at them.

  “I know it may be difficult to tell at first glance, Your Highness, but this woman is no Ianite,” Bryson hissed as an accusatory finger jabbed in my direction. “She’s … human.”

  The word ‘human’ left his mouth like profanity, as if it was the dirtiest phrase he’d ever uttered from the English language.

  I kept my eyes trained on the scene before me, as I shrank into the shadows.

  “We caught her trying to escape over the boundary wall,” Bryson tattled.

  “And she nearly got away,” Embry added. “It appears she had us all fooled, Sir, weaseling her way into the gala undetected.”

  “Even convincing you she was one of us,” Bryson added.

  Julian flinched when it was implied the pair witnessed us stealing away to the second floor together, implied that I’d gotten over on … everyone.

  Including him.

  His cold glare sliced my way, a look that let me know he hadn’t appreciated the slew of lies he’d been told tonight. From his perspective, I was certain I’d caused him considerable embarrassment—to his title, his manhood.

  He circled once as his brothers gawked. Roman’s glare was, perhaps, the most jarring, the most penetrating. Each step Julian took was painstakingly slow and I could feel his gaze dragging over my skin. Tension hung heavy in the air, clinging to every particle I breathed.

  “No mark, no brand, no proof of ownership,” Embry offered, reminding me of a dutiful dog awaiting his master’s next command.

  “I assure you we’ve done nothing contrary to protocol,” Bryson explained. “Before either of us laid a finger on her we checked for a mark, a brand. She’s no one’s property, sir.”

  My stomach churned as they discussed me as if I weren’t even present, like I was more of an object than a person.

  Julian’s icy gaze never left mine when his steps brought him straight toward me. His broad shoulders heaved and instinct urged me to inch back, but it did little good compared to his long strides. The distance between us slowly disappeared. Eventually, I was in his shadow. Unlike before, there was no chemistry, no connection like there’d been on the terrace.

  This time, as I stared up at him, there was no mistaking his awareness of the distinction between his kind and mine, his belief that I was beneath him, that I was disposable.

  And … I was afraid.

  “We’ve got a feeling she’s from one of the fringe operations we’ve heard so much about lately.” Excitement nearly had Bryson salivating. “It might be worth letting the Butcher have a night with her, see if he can extract some information before she’s taken to the gallows in the morning.”

  A shiver scurried down my spine, but I held my composure. I was no stranger to that term—The Butcher. He was among the oldest Ianites in the dynasty, once a physician before undergoing the change, the one that set Ianites apart from humans. His background came in handy when tasked with keeping victims alive while they endured the unthinkable.

  There were stories of how his particular brand of torture had broken even the most loyal figures in our operation. Among his favorite methods was progressively scalping his captors over a period of hours to extract information. These acts were heinous and were all performed in his personal dungeon.

  And then, there were some so stubborn, he subjected them to what was known as “A ride-along with Betsy”. Betsy being his genetically altered Clydesdale, fully capable of reaching a staggering speed of seventy miles-per-hour. And a ‘ride’ consisted of being tied behind the mare and dragged up and down a self-constructed road of dirt, sharp stones, and glass shards. The idea was to bring his subjects within inches of death, all with hopes of extracting answers—names, locations, objectives.

  Me.

  The Butcher had never seen my face, but he’d been on the hunt for the elusive Blackbird for quite some time. I was the needle in the haystack he’d fought so hard to find. And now, these goons considered delivering me right to his doorstep.

  “She hasn’t said one word, Your Highness. Hasn’t even uttered her name,” Embry piped. “Would you like us to check her belongings? Her purse is in the bushes somewhere,” he added, pointing.

  It was hard to breathe, hard to see a way out of this.

  Julian stepped closer and stared down on me with anger brewing just beneath the surface. His broad jaw swelled, flexing as frustration filled him to the brim. I’d done this, brought him to the point of nearly boiling over. And now, as we stood breathing one another’s air, I was certain I already knew my fate.

  After all, I’d given him every reason to hand me over to these men without ever looking back.

  “Sir? Would you like me to check for identification?” During the brief standoff, Embry had taken it upon himself to retrieve my purse, awaiting permission to rifle through it.

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  The rims of Julian’s nostrils flared with each breath as I held mine.

  “She’s … mine.”

  With those two words, forced out through gritted teeth … he left me absolutely baffled. Left his brothers baffled.

  I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to think, or what to do. It seemed the sentinels were just as confused.

  Levi’s lips parted as if to speak, or object maybe, but then fell silent following a stern glare from Julian.

  “Sir?” Bryson spoke up, and his brow knitted together as he sought clarity.

  With Julian’s back now to the others, they were blind to the fierce expression he wore, the one that told of how this action contradicted his nature. I, on the other hand, had a ringside seat.

  “I think we must have misheard, Your Highness,” Embry chimed in, passing a look toward his comrade right after.

  Goosebumps prickled my skin, spreading down my arms and legs. I didn’t know what to make of this, wasn’t certain I hadn’t become the butt of some cruel joke. After all, I had just boldly deceived an emperor’s son. It wouldn’t have been farfetched to think he’d want revenge, would want to teach me a lesson.

  Julian turned, facing the men.

  “Enlighten me, Sentinel Bryson. Earlier, you spoke of protocol. Is it protocol to damage the official property of a monarch?”

  Official property …

  My stomach flipped hearing myself described in that way, even if allowing it was the only reason I might not die tonight.

  Was he trying to … save me?

  It seemed that way, although I hadn’t yet figured out why he’d do such a thing—why he’d put his neck on the line for me, considering what I’d done, considering we only met tonight.

  “Her things, please,” Julian demanded, extending his hand as that fierce expression hid that me being his property was a lie on top of more lies.

  The reluctance behind Embry’s gaze wasn’t lost on me. He offered a shallow bow when Julian accepted my purse, showing no signs of intending to return it to me.

  “Our … apologies, Your Highness,” Embry stammered, clearly questioning so
much in the few seconds that had passed. “With how she raced toward the wall as though she meant to escape—”

  “And with her being unmarked, carrying a weapon,” Bryson interjected as he pointed toward the empty holster on my thigh. “You must understand why we reached such a conclusion, sir.”

  Julian’s posture turned rigid and he didn’t have a response ready.

  But … Silas apparently did.

  I peered up as he stepped closer now, his staggering height matching Julian’s.

  “We were the ones who instructed Prince Julian to arm her,” Silas interjected, pointing toward Levi and Roman as he spoke. “She was purchased from Madam Amelia, and with the woman’s reputation for offering the most high-quality, well-trained Dolls the East has to offer, you can imagine she cost him a pretty penny. With him not being ready to publicize his latest purchase, he chose to hide her in plain sight, but it would have been foolish not to provide her a means of defending herself,” he stated, sizing up the two sentinels. “Considering …”

  The two uniformed men stammered, but Silas cut them off before they were able to conjure an excuse.

  “You assaulted her,” he seethed, “and then proceeded to tear what I imagine to be a very expensive dress, before wrangling her to the ground like some animal.” His gaze shifted to my wrist. “And to top it all off, you’ve injured her.”

  I was … speechless. Not only had one prince come to my rescue. Two of them had now gotten tangled in this lie.

  The red stain on my glove had grown considerably. With a slow reach, as if to make it clear he meant no harm, my hand was taken into Silas’ for a closer look. He gently eased the satin material that stretched to my elbow down to reveal a gash still oozing blood.

  Fresh blood.

  Among vampires.

  I hadn’t relaxed in the least, but I certainly felt my pulse quicken as I waited for a reaction to the red liquid seeping from the gash. I prepared myself for the worst as Silas stared at the wound, prepared to have my throat ripped out with his teeth like the Doll who sparked this whole thing. I’d seen enough Ianites in their true form to visualize it clearly.

  Fangs that protruded from perfect sets of teeth.

  Enviable cheekbones and chiseled jawlines that shifted and contorted to reveal the beasts they truly were.

  Razorlike claws that rapidly elongated as the whites of their eyes filled with darkness, turning completely black against their red centers. Or, for the princes, their silver centers.

  But then, Silas surprised me with a look, one that made his gaze soften when it landed on me.

  Just a little.

  “Apologize,” he practically hissed, addressing the sentinels, although his attention was focused solely on me.

  Bryson and Embry turned toward Julian. “Our apologies, Your Highness,” both men gushed.

  Their failure to comprehend Silas’ command prompted his temper to flare. “Not to him,” he clarified. “To her.”

  Embry blinked, seemingly caught off guard by Silas’ demand. I considered myself to be well-versed in Ianite culture, and because of this, I was nearly positive it wasn’t customary for sentinels—or anyone else for that matter—to hold a Doll to any measure of high esteem.

  However, as we stood in that garden, it became quite clear this was what Silas expected.

  Both men eventually obliged, first offering courteous nods. “Our apologies, Ma’am.”

  “I believe the proper term is actually, Mistress,” Levi said stepping forward, his tone sharp as he reminded the sentinels that a Doll belonging to a high-powered figure bore this distinct title.

  Bryson bowed deeply this time, but not without a piercing glance landing on me first.

  “Of course, Sir,” he crooned. “Our apologies, Mistress.”

  Embry echoed the same.

  The air was thick—with confusion, suspicion, distrust. I was under the princes’ heavy gazes again, and couldn’t help but to wonder what this was. It’d gone on too long to be a joke like I originally assumed—four royals just playing with their ‘food’.

  Guilt? Had that been the reason Julian acted to spare me? Pity maybe? Had his Dynasty Brothers only stepped in to back up his story to avoid seeing him punished? After all, Ianite law was no respecter of persons. What applied to one, applied to them all.

  Or perhaps it was all just to save face. That made the most sense of all the scenarios I thought of then. Yes, saving me made it seem like Julian hadn’t been fooled, hadn’t been embarrassed by how easily I, a mere human, had outsmarted him.

  “We’ll be on our way now,” Julian stated to the sentinels, holding that stern gaze of his.

  “Very well, Your Highness.” Bryson replied so quickly it nearly made my head spin. “I can radio to someone out front and have your driver pull the car forward.”

  “Don’t bother.” Julian cut the offending sentinels a look before continuing. “The driver stays. Otherwise, my brothers would be stranded and forced to end their evening early.” He sighed.

  The statement earned Julian a curious glance from the other three, as they questioned him with loaded stares. He said nothing in return, but it seemed he appeased them with a look.

  These four, they weren’t real brothers, but I got the sense of their closeness tonight. It seemed they knew one another as well as actual siblings. That point was only confirmed when Levi, Silas, and Roman stood down instead of objecting, all without Julian having to say a word.

  “But, Sir, how will you—”

  “I’ve already alerted my A.C., and she should be arriving any second,” Julian interrupted, answering Bryson’s question before he’d been able to ask it fully.

  I swallowed hard at the mention of an A.C. being the mode of transportation that would take us from Lord Wilford’s palace to … actually, I had no earthly idea where we were headed. However, I knew I was not keen on getting there by way of an autonomous chauffeur—the A.C. Julian spoke of just then. If there was anything I trusted as little as an Ianite, it was their fancy driverless vehicles, and the artificial intelligence that controlled them.

  These machines cost a fortune, so even with the wealth many Ianites possessed, it was still rare to see one outside a magazine. They were in development for years before this extremely advanced technology finally saw the light of day, but from what I heard from Felix gushing about them, their ‘minds’ were as complex and high-functioning as that of a human.

  Silas placed a firm hand on Julian’s shoulder to get his attention, turning him until the two stood face-to-face. Another loaded look passed between them and I listened intently to hear the words they exchanged.

  “As soon as we’re able to get away,” Silas stated gravely, “be expecting us.”

  “And if there’s trouble before then, you know how to reach us,” Roman added.

  It was always my opinion that he was intense by nature, but seeing him in action only added to that conclusion.

  Julian nodded reassuringly. “I’ll wait up.”

  With that, the three princes headed back toward the palace, likely intent on smoothing over any unwanted attention this ordeal might have garnered.

  Both sentinels jumped into action, eager to be in Julian’s good graces once again. One fumbled for the radio at his hip to alert front-gate security that we were headed their way. The other rushed to the prince’s side to escort us across the lawn, but we didn’t move. Instead, a heavy breath of silence hovered between us all.

  Julian passed a stern gaze to both sentinels who stood at attention.

  The words, “You’ll never speak of this,” left his mouth accompanied by a ferocious glare, making it known he meant every word.

  “I’d never dream of it, Your Highness.”

  “You have our word.”

  Both made their pledge to him, swearing to secrecy. That firm look Julian gave lingered a moment longer, and it was clear he wouldn’t tolerate insubordination. I’d heard the rumors of things I was certain these two had seen firstha
nd.

  Julian, like his father, was cold and heartless. If their word was not kept, he wouldn’t hesitate to end them. While that shouldn’t have frightened me so much, it definitely did.

  If this man, this beast, was more than willing to end the lives of his own people … I didn’t stand a chance.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Corina

  We were finally on the move, trudging toward the palace’s front lawn. We made the trek in complete silence, me cradling my throbbing wrist and favoring my left ankle a bit. Somehow, it’d gotten tweaked during the scuffle. A sharp twinge pulsed through the bone whenever too much weight rested on it, but I didn’t let it slow my pace. Still, keeping pace or not, Julian noticed. A light grip bracing my elbow to keep me steady as we crossed the lawn made that clear. Having his help fixed the limp, but there wasn’t much to be done about my ragged appearance. I was barefoot, bleeding, and disheveled.

  We’d cleared the garden, the horse stables, and the poolside cabanas before the front facing of the palace even came into view. Julian stopped, prompting Embry and Bryson to do the same.

  Felix and Liv’s voices hadn’t stopped blaring in my ear, pleading for an explanation I couldn’t yet give. They were loud enough to drown out my own thoughts, replacing my questions and concerns with their own. In fact, it was the team’s ambient chatter that made it possible for Julian’s intentions to slip past me at first.

  At least until thick, powerful arms were freed from the sleeves of a tuxedo jacket.

  I watched, noting how he took care to cover my shoulders. We would have to face so many when we rounded the corner—guests, staff, more sentinels, photographers. Now, thanks to him sharing his jacket, it’d be a little less obvious I had a near-death experience just a moment ago. The silk lining was infused with the scent of his cologne.

  It was … pleasant.

  I shrugged deeper into the fabric, holding the lapel closed to hide as much of myself as possible.

  I truly was a mess. If Liv could have seen me, once she got over being happy I was alive, she would have killed me herself for undoing all her hard work.