Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)(163)
Author: A.M. Hudson

I looked up at Jason then, and sure enough, it was there; the concern, the obvious worry in his eyes. I could almost read his mind, see him jumping to his feet to hold me in his arms, but it was David who appeared beside me. “My queen. Care for a walk?”

“Of course, my king,” I said timidly and took his hand. His touch felt cool and familiar, but strangely, not as familiar as it should have been for all the years we’d been in love.

We walked to the garden, and as the loud chatters of our people became distant murmurs, he stopped, turning me in his arms, looking right into my eyes, the moonlight above making his face white, like the dead. “I’m sorry, Ara.”

“Why?”

“I was a jerk today, and…I hurt your feelings. I know that.” He gently squeezed the tops of my arms. “I’m just afraid of losing you, I…you’re the one thing in my life that I’ve never had control over—”

“But—”

“No,” he said, with wide eyes, tightening his fingers on my arms. “I don’t want control, Ara. I don’t want to control or own you. I love you. But I just don’t know how to keep you—how to make sure I never lose you.”

I slowly lifted my hand up between us and pointed to my wedding ring. “That’s what this means. It means I love you no matter what. It means I will be with you through hell and fire, and it means I will keep my promise to be with you, even when I don’t want to keep that promise anymore.”

He nodded once, smiling at my ring. “It’s nice to hear you say that.”

I held my hand to my chest. “Well, I say it because I mean it, okay.”

He nodded again, sliding his hands down my arms to take my hands. “Can you forgive me?”

“For what?”

“For…for treating you that way. I don’t want to be that kind of husband—or that kind of man.” He closed his eyes, biting his teeth together. “I promised you I’d changed since we met, and what you saw today was me breaking that promise. I understand you, Ara—I understand that your flirtatious nature is a part of you, and might always be, but I just want to make sure I’ll be the only one you’ll ever love.”

I stepped into him a little more. “Even if death comes for us, you will always be my one true love. Nothing will ever be strong enough to break us apart, David. We’ve been through those fires of hell.” I pointed off to nowhere. “And we always come back. We always will.”

He took my hand delicately and kissed my ring. “I hope so.”

The grand piano my husband learned to play on was old—ancient being a better word. It sat on detailed, heavy-set legs, shining gloriously in a deep mahogany colour, the words Chickering, Boston, in curly letters below the music stand.

It must’ve been a rare piano, probably been here since the eighteen-hundreds.

I stopped playing and listened to the world around me, starting up again when I was satisfied that the door I thought I heard slam was just the wind. My fingers moved fast over the notes, my wrists sore with the extra weight I had to use on the heavy, ancient keys, and I played the sorrowful song of a symphony written by favourite modern band. It was a complex piece, much too intricate for only two hands, which is why it surprised me so much to hear the harmony being played; I looked beside me to Jason, smiling as his hands moved along with mine.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.” He smiled warmly, and we continued to play. It was like flying, like running a race and looking behind you, knowing you’re winning, and when the song came to its soft, sorrowful end, I rested my hands in my lap, breathing heavily, kind of laughing.

“That was fun.”

“You are a rare talent, Ara-Rose,” he said, kissing my hand. “You play as well as my brother, yet you’re only nineteen human years old.”

“You play pretty well yourself.”

He smiled down at the keys, then closed the cover. “Piano was always really more my brother’s thing.”

“Well, what’s your thing?”

He moved one shoulder in a gentle shrug.

“Jase?”

“Mm?”

“Are you okay?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I’m just…there’re a few things on my mind.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

He looked over his shoulder, up the stairs and down, then back at me. “I’m happy for him—for David. Being king…it’s a dream he’d always held close to his heart. I’m not sure anyone but he, and maybe me, know how much it truly means to him. But I…I don’t know if I can be there tomorrow, Ara.”

“Why?”

He swallowed. “I…I wish I could tell you why, but…”

I waited, my heart beating fiercely for the agony in his eyes. “But?”

“Never mind.” He forced a smile. “I’ll be there. I’ll go. He’s my brother, after all. I should be there to see him become king.”

I leaned back a little to catch his entire frame in my sight. “Who are you trying to convince?”

He laughed softly. “Myself. I think.”

“Ara?” Mike’s deep voice reached us, breaking us apart from across the room.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hey.” He walked slowly over, eyeing Jason, then smiled at me. “What’re you doing up so late, baby? You worrying about tomorrow?”

I smiled softly. “Kinda.”

“Come on.” He reached his hand out. “I’ll walk you back up to bed.”

I looked at Jason; he nodded to me, as if to say Mike’s undertone of accusation hadn’t offended him, but I knew it did. He hadn’t told me himself, but Morgaine filled me in on what happened while I was unconscious—how everyone somehow came to conclude that Jason was to blame for what happened to me, and that the memory loss I experienced was actually his attempt to cover up something horrible he’d done. I took Mike’s hand and gave Jason a reassuring smile as I stood. Night, Jase, I thought.

“Night,” he said, turning back to the piano, lifting the cover as Mike led me away.

When we reached the second floor, I heard the sultry tunes of the third part of that symphony. It pained me to hear it played that way—much slower and more heartfelt than I’d heard before. It almost seemed like a musical message from Jason, screaming out the torment in his soul. But no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be able to free him. Something had come to trouble him since I woke from the coma, and whatever it was, I felt like maybe I’d lost him in a small way—like there was a rift between us now that couldn’t be repaired.