Born of Silence (The League Gen 1 #4)(40)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Zarya stepped forward. “He has a bodyguard.”

Hauk raked her with a less than complimentary grimace. “You’d be dead before you could scream.”

“Try me.”

When he stood up to confront her, Darling laughed. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“You’re not me.” Hauk moved to pin her.

Zarya dodged, and twirled out of his reach. She grabbed the blaster off his belt and angled it at his head. “Like I said, he has a guard.”

A light of respect darkened those eerie Andarion eyes. “All right then. It’s settled. Zarya will watch you and I’ll be outside should either of you need anything.”

She held his blaster out to him.

“Keep it.”

“Thanks.” Zarya set the blaster down on the nightstand as the men finally left her alone with Darling again.

Darling rubbed his hand over his forehead. “This wasn’t how I wanted to come home to you.”

Zarya quickly exchanged her robe for the shirt she’d been sleeping in. “I don’t mind… so long as you come home.” She’d take him any way she could get him, scary friends and all.

She slid into bed and leaned back against the padded headboard before she parted her legs for him.

Darling moved to rest his head on her thigh. He lay on his back, looking up at her as she brushed her hand lightly through his long, tangled hair.

The beauty of his repaired face still stunned her. He was exquisite. “I’m going to have to get used to you all over again.”

A stricken look furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

She smoothed his features with her fingertips. “It’s nothing bad, sweetie. I was just repeating the fact that Syn did a remarkable job.”

Darling fell silent as he surrendered himself to her soothing touch and tried not to think about the fact that she deserved a man who was whole. Not a scarred piece of shit like him. He took her hand in his and held it against his cheek. The scent of her skin was enough to make him light-headed. He’d spent his entire life aching for someone to hold him when he was hurt.

As a teen and young man, he’d only trusted Maris with his weaknesses. While he knew his friends wouldn’t hurt him, Syn, Nyk, Hauk, Caillen, and Jayne weren’t the most sympathetic of beings. They had their own damaged pasts to deal with, just like him. Because of that, he’d tried to keep his bitching to a minimum.

Then there had been the perpetual fear that if he told them exactly what was going on at home, one of them would kill Arturo for hurting him and he’d lose his family over it. A fear that seemed stupid now given the fact he’d finally found a way to murder his uncle and bypass the law Arturo had put into place.

Why hadn’t he acted sooner? If he’d only come up with the bomb idea when he was a kid, he could have saved himself years of abuse…

But then even if he had murdered Arturo, there was still the matter of his being virtually enslaved to whomever replaced his uncle’s guardianship.

His luck, it would have been someone even worse.

Someone like Nylan.

He flinched at the thought while Zarya traced the line of his brow with her fingernail. She sank her hand into his hair. He turned his head so that he could breathe her scent in and let it drive the past away.

Everything was so different now. He stood on new ground with a CDS who hated his guts even more than Arturo had.

And tonight he’d have to face all the Caronese gerents…

Pain racked him as he remembered the last time he’d been forced to attend a Caronese symposium. It’d been unbearable.

Granted even a regular gathering of multinational nobles wasn’t the joy of his life. But at least when other empires were present, the mocking was kept to a minimum. The Caronese didn’t believe in airing their private ridicule to strangers.

Yet when it was just them…

He didn’t want to think about what was to come.

Why couldn’t Nylan do him the favor of dying already?

But the gods had never been friends of his. Rather, they intended to keep the bastard alive for no other purpose than to serve as an eternal reminder that Darling was nothing more than a stupid piece of shit.

The memory of their laughter at the last gathering still rang in his ears… “What’s the difference between Darling Cruel and a rooster? In the morning, a rooster says, ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’ while at night Darling says, ‘any-cock’ll-do.’ ”

“Are you okay?” Zarya’s voice cut through his misery to bring him back to the warmth of her touch.

“Just thinking about the meeting tonight.” He looked up at her. “Maybe you shouldn’t go to it.” The last thing he wanted was for her to overhear one of those stupid, juvenile jokes.

Anger flashed in her eyes. “I do know etiquette, Darling. I’m not going to embarrass you.”

His heart sank at her mistaken assumption. “It’s not that,” he quickly assured her. “I don’t know how they’ll react to my presence. The last thing I want is for them to insult you because of me.”

She leaned down and kissed his lips. “I don’t care what they think of me. None of them are worth a minute of my time, and I will not waste one thought on worrying about them when I’d rather spend it thinking about you.”

Darling wished he could banish them so easily. Instead, they kept rushing his mental blocks and slamming them to the ground. “I’ll have Maris there to get you out if it gets bad.”

“Who’ll protect you?”

“They won’t physically attack me, Zarya.”

“Yes, but physical blows heal a lot faster than psychological ones.”

Darling didn’t respond this time.

Worried about him, Zarya glanced down to see that he’d fallen asleep in her lap. Smiling, she brushed the hair back from the left half of his face so that she could study the surgery without Darling watching her. She couldn’t believe the difference it’d made. Syn was a certified genius when it came to medicine.

Darling was absolutely devastating. Those very faint scars actually enhanced his beauty. Without them, he’d lean more toward pretty than ruggedly handsome.

No one would ever mock his looks now.

But that wasn’t what concerned her most. If Darling didn’t make peace with the gerents tonight, he wouldn’t be governor long.

One of them would have him killed.

18

Unmitigated panic ripped through every part of Zarya as she stared at herself in the mirror. She didn’t know the woman there. It was a complete stranger gazing through her amber eyes.

One who absolutely terrified her. Even though she had a royal and noble bloodline and had been taught the ways of the aristocracy, Zarya Starska wasn’t an aristo. She could only vaguely recall those days.

No, she was a soldier. A Resistance fighter. One who was more at home on a battlefield than walking through the land mines of social barbs and verbal slaps. While she technically knew how to behave at a royal function, she hadn’t been drilled on those behaviors since her mother’s death. All she knew intimately now was raw survival.

A survival instinct that told her to run.

I don’t know if I can do this.

She blinked her eyelids that were heavy from the makeup Gera had applied. Her maroon dress was so tight, she could barely breathe. Strapless, it was trimmed in gold and dark blue—the royal Caronese colors.

According to Gera, Darling would be dressed in dark blue, and this dress had been made to complement his official state formal attire.

I’d run for the door, but in these shoes, I might break my leg.

For that matter, she wasn’t really sure if the delicate lace high heels that had been dyed to match her dress really qualified as shoes. But, she knew for a fact that her sister would kill to own a pair of them.

Her door opened. She expected it to be Darling or Maris.

Instead, it was Gera. She had a strange expression on her face. One that never boded well for Zarya’s sanity or sense of norm.

“Did we forget something?”

Gera smiled. “No, Mistress. You look like an absolute vision. Any man would be honored to escort you.” She brought whatever she’d been hiding behind her back around so that Zarya could see a burgundy leather box.

Zarya cocked a curious eyebrow as a wave of nervous trepidation went through her. “What’s that?”

“His lordship gave it to me for you to wear tonight.” Gera presented it to her much the way Darling had given his medal to Drus.

Zarya stared down at her new engagement ring. The center stone was dark blue with the side stones a deep, blood maroon that matched her dress. She’d only ever owned three pieces of jewelry in her entire life. Her mother’s ring that she’d given to Darling, and the two engagement rings Darling had given her.

And since two of them had been violently stolen…

“I don’t really wear jewelry.”

Gera refused to be daunted. “You’ll want this. Trust me.”

When she didn’t move to take the box, Gera opened the lid to show her the most magnificent necklace she’d ever seen in her life. It looked as if it’d been made to match her ring. Red and blue stones were laced together with tiny gold gems to form a collar that held one obscenely large, perfect red teardrop.

Gera handed her the matching earrings, then took the necklace out of its box. She moved behind Zarya so that she could fasten it around Zarya’s neck.

All Zarya could do was gape at something that probably cost more than a small planet. Why had Darling sent it to her?

She covered the stone with her hand—it was so large, she couldn’t even close her fist around it—while Gera worked with the catch. “Is this his mother’s?”

“No, Mistress. Lady Natale has all of her jewelry with her at the Summer Palace. His lordship went down into the vault to select these for you.”

Vault?

Zarya frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“These are part of what his lordship inherited when his father died,” Gera explained. “Every lady of the empire is given her own jewels by her husband. When she passes, she may will them to someone or return them to the vault so that they remain the governor’s property and go to her child who inherits. This set belonged to his lordship’s great-grandmother. They were given to her when she birthed his grandfather. The center teardrop is the largest blodesteen ever cut.”

Those were the rarest of all the precious stones in existence.

Zarya picked it up to stare in awe of the priceless gem that was worth even more than she’d originally thought.

“Her ladyship always wore this set for all state functions, and at all celebrations. She claimed the blue stones were to calm her nerves and the red to inspire her husband to become even greater than he already was. If you’ve been down the north hallway, you’ve no doubt seen her wearing them in her state portrait. They were her most prized possession.”

Gera moved to put the earrings on.

Zarya kindly stopped her. “I can do it. Thank you, Gera.”

Inclining her head, Gera took her leave.

Zarya fastened the earrings, then went straight to Darling’s door. Knocking, she didn’t wait for him to respond before she pushed it open.

She froze instantly.

Holy mother of all shoes…

Darling was absolutely startling in his regal beauty. The navy uniform, trimmed in gold and maroon, made his eyes an even darker shade of blue. His valet had cut his hair so that it no longer fell over the left half of his face. Rather, the much shorter style curled around his collar and formed a perfect frame for his chiseled features. A style that left both of his eyes visible.

And braided into his hair so that it fell from behind his right ear was his harone—the three graduating strands of jewels that designated his status as a royal governor. The longest strand was made of red stone beads with every sixth bead being yellow. At the end hung a larger briolette cut of navy blue. The next strand up was dark blue with every fourth bead being yellow. The briolette on it was maroon. The shortest strand was red beads with every fifth bead blue. Its briolette was yellow.

An aura of lethal, regal authority bled from every part of him. Unlike her, he was completely at ease with his nobility, and he looked every bit the powerful ruler that he was. She’d never found an aristo sexy, but Darling wore that title well. There was no arrogance to him, only a deep self-assurance that was as erotic as the hot look in his eyes as he stared at her.

“You are stunning, my lady.” He all but growled those words.

“And you are exceptional.”

His valet cleared his throat to get Darling’s attention. “Majesty? Is there anything else you require?”

Darling glanced to his left where his valet waited. “You’re dismissed.”

After a slight bow, the man quickly took his leave.

As soon as he was gone, Darling wasted no time closing the distance between them so that he could kiss her.

Zarya breathed him in, wanting to feel him nak*d against her skin. But she knew better. They couldn’t afford to be late to this meeting.

Reluctantly, she pulled back. “If you mess up Gera’s hard work, she might poison us both.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “If not for the gerents, I’d be willing to risk her wrath.” He picked her hand up and placed a sexy kiss to her fingers. “Did you need something? You looked kind of pissed when you came in.”

His syntax was the only part of him that betrayed his Sentella training. The rest of him was all arrogant emperor. In the past, men like him had repulsed her. But now that she knew him so well and had walked on the inside of his privileged world, she understood that it was a shield he wore just like the body armor they chose whenever they went into battle. And in a way, that was exactly what he was about to do.

Only his weapons wouldn’t be knives or blasters or bombs or gases. He would be fighting with his words and wit. With his ability to effectively argue his side, and to show the fallacies in his opponent’s logic. A different battlefield, but the outcome was the same.

The winner dictated the future of the people she’d spent her life fighting for.

That detached arrogance he cloaked himself with was a vital shell that, just like the red tinged black battlesuits the Sentella wore, kept his opponent’s from knowing when they’d wounded him, and how deeply their blows had struck.

Funny how she’d never known that until lately.

Now she fully understood. And she knew from her own experience that words always cut deeper than any weapon forged by man.

The only thing that was sharper and that scarred more was the selfish actions of those you loved when they made it crystal clear that they cared more for themselves than they did for you. Especially when it was someone you trusted to always put you first.

And that pain was what she felt right now. “I’m not pissed,” she said slowly, answering his question. “More curious.” She ran her hand over the exquisite necklace. “Why did you loan this to me?”

He frowned. “Didn’t you read the note I sent with it?”

“It didn’t come with a note.”

His eyes flashed with anger, then settled into a look of disappointment. “It’s not that important, I guess. But they’re not a loan, Zarya. They’re a gift.”

Go on, keep talking, buddy. Dig yourself in deeper.

“Why?” she asked, hoping she was wrong.

That turned him defensive, which made her suspicions grow. “Do I have to have a reason to give you a present?”

“If you’re giving it to me because you don’t want me to embarrass you, then yes.”

Darling choked at her unexpected, and highly erroneous assumption. Indignant, he glared at her. “How could I ever be embarrassed by you?”

“I know I’m technically no longer an aristo, but—”

“Zarya…” He placed his hands on her arms and stared into her amber eyes, hoping she could see how sincere he was. “You are an aristo. Your father may have been stripped of his titles and money, but your blood is as noble as anyone’s in the CDS, and it’s as royal as mine. I picked that set for you because I thought they’d be beautiful on you and I was right. Most of all, when my valet brought in my harone, it dawned on me that you didn’t have any jewelry of your own. I wanted to give you some because I thought it would make you happy. That was the only thing that motivated me. I swear.”

Zarya wanted to weep as she heard those words. And here she’d tainted his beautiful gift. Suddenly, she felt stupid for doubting him when he had never given her a reason to.

Rather, she’d attacked him out of her own insecurity and for the views that had been held by her last boyfriend.

“Damn, Zarya. Can’t you at least try to look like a woman when we go out? The last thing I want is for someone to think I’m dating a man or a hobo.”

It wasn’t fair to Darling when he had never once said anything negative about how she dressed or looked. “I’m sorry, Darling. I didn’t mean to be so shrewish.”

He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “It’s all right. My nerves are shot, too. I hate doing shit like this just as much as you do.”

Clenching his teeth, he went over to his dresser and picked up a pair of darkly tinted glasses. Not quite as dark as sunglasses, they shielded her ability to see his eyes.

She scowled in confusion. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know your vision was impaired.”

“I don’t. But in the event I have to read something, I can’t afford to let them know that I have a problem. Plus, if my eyes start jerking, I definitely don’t want them to see it… I’m hoping these will help me keep both secrets.”

That made sense.

“They look great on you, by the way.”

Darling appreciated her compliment. But even so, he had a terrible feeling about the meeting tonight—it was the same uneasy feeling he’d had the night before Clarion’s attack. Every instinct he possessed told him something bad was going to happen.

I won’t let it.

And yet even as that thought finished, an inner part of himself laughed at his arrogance.

Fate is a bitch, but she always has a wicked sense of humor.

Please, don’t let me be her punch line tonight.

19

Darling paused outside the Grand Assembly room of the main CDS building. He could hear the roar of the gerents and their spouses through the strains of the orchestra music. There were four Sentella soldiers dressed as Caronese guards in front of him, waiting for his signal to open the door for his admittance.