Page 29 of King of the Damned
She tries to shove me teasingly, but I catch her wrists in my hands. Her mouth parts slightly, like she’s forgotten how quick I am compared to her. Her delicate fingers trace along the filigree details on my coat, and when she meets my gaze from under her lashes, her blue eyes look more vivid than I’ve ever seen them. It’s like new life has taken place there. I could not recall the color of any other human’s eyes in this palace even if my life depended on it.
But hers? I could never forget them, not even if I lived another thousand years.
“Stop it,” I warn.
“Stop what?”
“Looking at me like that.”
She blinks. “How am I looking at you?”
“Like I’m not a monster.”
She lets out a shaky breath, and still staring into my soul, she says, “Ask me nicely.”
I feel something shift inside me at her request. Like a small crack in my chest, allowing something to seep out of the very essence of who I am.
The black line intertwined with her golden vow begins to burn, and my hand begins to tingle ever so slightly.
This doesn’t make any sense. That line does not belong to her. It’s the remnants of a fate I abandoned long ago and a fate that she is not supposed to be destined for.
I close my eyes for a moment, and my jaw tightens as I loosen my grip on her wrists. “Please have mercy on my immortal soul, sweet Adelasia.”
When I open my eyes, she’s still gazing into the darkest, deepest parts of me. She finally breaks the gaze, only to meet it once again. “What color were your eyes, before you became a vampire?”
I think about it for a long time. Longer than anyone should think about that answer. I feel my face fall at the sad realization, and admit, “I can’t remember.”
“Kaius…” Adelasia whispers, freeing one of her wrists from my grasp to gently caress my cheek. “If there were a way for me to help you break this curse, I would.”
Out of all the things she could have said to me at this moment, that’s probably the one I wanted to hear the least. I take an abrupt step away from her, severing any lingering contact.
“We should go back,” I prompt emotionlessly. “We’ll miss the best part of the night.”
I don’t wait to see if she follows before I leave the balcony, and these conflicting feelings, behind me.
Adelasia does end up following me back to the hall where the celebration is being held, though she gives quite a wide berth between us. I stop in the center of the room, and she joins me a few seconds later. I nod my chin upwards to prompt her to look. As she does, the moon reaches its crest right above the enchanted red glass ceiling.
The moonlight filters through the mural, creating a stunning aurora above our heads in warm shades of red, orange, yellow, and pink. Small specks of the aurora fall to us, dusting her cheeks like freckles and her raven-black hair like gemstones.
“What is this?”
“Moonlight,” I answer. “To remind those of us who long for the sun that there’s beauty even in the deepest part of the night. When you live for hundreds of years, sometimes you need the reminder.”
“Is it really so bad? Being immortal?”
I circle her until I’m standing behind her. I carefully pick out the pins holding her hair in place to let it fall down her back, and then trail my hands up her scalp, tangling my fingers into her hair. She lets out an uncertain sound of pleasure at the feeling.
“We gain strength and apt senses, yes, but think about everything we lose. Everyone we’ve ever known as a human will eventually grow old and die. We can never taste our favorite foods again. We’ll never feel the warmth of the sun. You’ll reach a point in your immortal life where you can’t even remember what your own eye color was before you were turned. If we are religious, then we lose our connections to our deities because they believe us to be abominations. We’ll never see a full sunset or sunrise again. We can’t have children, and if we had children before we turned, they’re unable to survive the change themselves. We lose so much more than you can even comprehend, Adelasia.”
I feel the sharp rise and fall of her shoulders. She’s crying. I nudge her temple with my nose and rub her arms with mine before wrapping her in a calming embrace. “You’d hate losing those things, wouldn’t you?”
“That’s not why I’m crying.” She turns slightly to look up at me. “I’m crying foryou.”
I smile. “Don’t waste your tears on me, Adelasia. I don’t deserve them.” I use my thumb to brush away one of the drops streaming down her face.
After the initial awe from the ceiling wears off, the room grows quiet as people begin to leave. Adelasia and I are left alone under the filtered moonlight. My hand still caresses her cheek and I can see her heartbeat pounding wildly in her throat. The air between us is warm with delicious tension, and the rosy sheen of her lips is even more tempting than the smell of blood coursing through her veins. To resist the sudden and overwhelming urge I have to feel those lips pressed against mine, I take one of her hands and spin her around a few times until she’s pressed into my chest in a dancing position.
“May I have one last dance?”
