Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)(135)
Author: A.M. Hudson

“Oh, so, now that I’m queen, Drake would have to kill me to get allegiance back?”

He nodded.

“Okay. And…when you’re king, you’ll be One with Mother Nature, too?”

“Yes, because you actually swear me in by your blood—as the one true king.”

I nodded. “Cool.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “It’s pretty cool.”

“So, like, I cut myself and bleed on your blood—that sort of thing?”

“Something like that.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, and slowly wound a finger under his, then slipped my hand all the way into his palm.

“For what?”

“For not rolling your eyes at me, like, well, for not meaning it.”

He laughed. “Ara, I love you. And I know how your mind works—” He tapped his head. “You miss things. It doesn’t make you stupid; it just means you were thinking about something more important at the time.”

I smiled down at our hands. “It’s hard, you know.”

“What?”

“Being the fool.”

He squeezed my hand. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean…everyone thinks I’m an idiot. No one trusts me, or my opinion, and I just feel like—” I looked up and shrugged. “What am I even doing here?”

By command of a slight tug of his hand, we stood up and he wrapped his arms over my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. “My love, you don’t see what other people see. You haven’t stopped to look back and realise what you’ve achieved.”

“I haven’t achieved anything.”

“Haven’t you?” He tilted my chin up. “Did you not give Eric the dream he always wanted; did you not give hundreds of vampires a new home, did you not turn their loved ones immortal? Have you not seen the rescue and freedom of four hundred tortured Lilithians, and have you not changed the lives of those Damned, so dramatically that when I went to see them, one of those kids hugged me—actually hugged me, having remembered me from fifty years ago when I gave him an extra cup of blood?”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He smiled down at me. “And look at you, my girl in the yellow dress. You’re still her—still that same girl, but you’ve changed so many lives. Look how far we’ve come from that first day at school when I accidently called you Ara-Rose in the library and nearly bit my own tongue off for it.” He stroked his thumb over my locket as I laughed lightly. “Don’t tell me you’re not worth anything, Ara, because you are the blessing in so many people’s lives, and you don’t even know it.”

I bit my lips in, unable to see through my tears.

“Come here,” he said, and pulled me in for the tightest, most loving hug I ever had. “I’m sorry I can’t be here to tell you this every day, but you know I love you, and you know I am always here for you.”

I nodded into his shirt, letting myself cry, safe and loved in his arms.

* * *

As the conversations died down and the candles burned to the last, waxy remains under the wick, I looked over at Arthur and smiled. He shook his head, as if my mere presence annoyed the hell out of him, and I felt my gut sink.

“Hey?” Jason landed in Mike’s empty chair. Morgaine didn’t even bother looking up this time; she just sighed and pushed her peas around her plate with her fork.

“Hi.”

“Don’t worry about Arthur,” he said quietly, reaching under the table to take my hand.

I curled my fingers over his. “I don’t like it when people are mad at me.”

We both looked up at Arthur then, who turned his head a fraction, breaking himself away from a conversation.

Jason gave me a reassuring smile. “Hey, why don’t you come to the lighthouse with me tonight? It might cheer you up.”

“Maybe. I have been meaning to—” I stopped then and watched Arthur stand, shaking his head, and walk away. As he passed, I looked up, hoping he’d at least make eye contact. He didn’t.

“Stop feeling bad, Ara.” Jason slid closer in the seat, leaning his elbow on the table, practically face to face with me. “In human years, he’s nearly twice your age.”

“He’s only thirty.” I frowned.

“And you’re nineteen.”

“That’s hardly twice my age.”

“I know—but it sounded more repulsive.” He sat back in his chair. “He’s like my father—it’s disturbing to me that you’re friends with him.”

“Jase?”

“I’m sorry. I know that’s unfair, but it’s also that…clearly, you’re hurt by his not speaking to you, and…I don’t like that. I don’t want you to be sad.”

I stood up. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to sort this out.”

Jason folded his arms, entertained. “You just can’t leave anything alone, can you?”

“Not when people are hurting, Jason.” I shook my head and walked from the room.

“Wait—” He grabbed my arm. “What about the lighthouse?”

“I’ll meet you there after.”

He stayed put, his eyes burning into my back as I walked away.

“What do you want to know?”

I drew a breath. “I was thinking about some of our earlier conversations, and I remembered you said that you used the war as an excuse to turn Jason and David.”

“Correct.”

“And…it was their idea to go, right?”

“Jason’s, yes. I believe David followed so as not to appear a coward.”

“Really? I was under the impression he followed to protect Jason.”

“What gave you that impression?”

“David.”

Arthur frowned. “Hm. Why do you ask, anyway, my dear?”

“Well, when we first met, you and I, after the…the whole kidnapping thing, you said something about the blood feud—about it being the reason you changed them.”

His shoulders slowly became straighter all the way across. “Did I?”

“Mm-hm.”

“And?”

“Well, then you also said that Drake had made a deal with you, that if he let the boys live here after Arietta died, you’d change them when they grew up. So, it’s connected, right? Drake wanted the boys immortal because he knew, even then, that they had something to do with this prophecy—and the prophecy has something to do with the feud?”