Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)(96)
Author: A.M. Hudson

With a deep breath of dewy air, I closed my eyes, imagining that the moonlight touching my face was actually David’s fingers, his lips—his breath. “I miss you, David,” I whispered into the wind, believing he could hear me.

“I miss you too, my love.”

I squealed, covering my mouth to hold it in when I turned and set eyes upon the tall, grinning vampire, leaning casually against the railing across the way. “David. What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” he said simply, shrugging, and I flew into his arms, feeling them wrap me up so safely—their grip controlled by a tight band of longing and separation. And silently, his embrace told me all he’d felt while we were apart, because I felt it too.

“You smell so good,” I cried.

He leaned out from our embrace and smiled down at me, his eyes becoming small with adoration, pride and so many other emotions. “My love, you look beautiful.”

“You don’t think the whole full hoop skirt is too much?” I ran my fingers over the fitted waist of my dress.

“Not at all. You are a queen now, my beautiful girl. And you look the part.” He smiled down at my teary gaze, taking my hand. “Would my lady care to dance?”

“I’d love to.” My voice broke into a quiver, which David noticed, but gave no more attention than a quick, secret smile, then led me to the centre of the balcony and positioned our hands, sweeping me closer by my hips.

“You didn’t honestly think I’d let you give away our first dance, did you?” he said.

“I didn’t think it mattered to you like it did to me.”

He shook his head, that same smile staying on his lips as we danced circles over the moonlight on the marble floor, stepping to the rhythm of music lilting up from the Great Hall. “Ara, everything to do with you matters to me.”

I tried not to cry, but I was so happy to hold him again that the tears came up anyway, making it hard to see. I hid my face against his chest, sniffling, breaking the romance of this magic little moment. I’d waited so long to dance like this, in his arms, as husband and wife, with nothing between us but the simplicity of our love—something I’d questioned so often since being here at Loslilian. But in his arms, I didn’t need words or promises to know he loved me and I loved him. And that was all there was to it. It was simple; in his arms, I was home.

“David?” I closed my eyes.

“Yes, my love?”

“Don’t ever let me go.”

He pressed his hand over my ear and breathed cool air against the top of my head. “I never have.”

The song in the Great Hall ended and another began with a familiar, sorrowful stroke of the bow across the strings of a violin.

David bowed and kissed my hand, stepping back. “It has been a pleasure, my love.”

“Thank you, David,” I whispered. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

He kissed my hand again, smoothing the wetness away with his thumb. “Yes, I do.”

I placed my other hand over his. “I miss you.”

“I know.” We walked back to the edge of the balcony and David turned to me. “Don’t ever think being apart means I’m not here with you. I will always be with you.”

I nodded. “I love you, David.”

“Come here,” he said, and with my eyes closed, I flung myself into his arms once more—dress, makeup, perfect hair and all—then squeezed him as tight as possible. He kissed my hair, his lips lingering. “I love you, too, Ara. I will miss you in every breath I must take without you.”

“Then don’t go.”

He laughed once and stood back, closing his eyes as he traced his fingertip in a cross over his heart. “I wish I didn’t have to—believe me.”

I rested my hand over his wish. “Me too.”

That small moment, just a breath of silence between us before the inevitable farewell, would last a lifetime, as long as my eyes stayed closed. But I felt David lean in, his warm lips on my hand, and a cool wash of air where he stepped away. I opened my eyes and the moment was lost.

“Until we next meet, my love,” he said, and evaporated, saturating me in the emptiness he left behind.

My heart sunk into my belly. I stood reaching into the darkness, as if I might feel some of his lingering energy. “Love you,” I whispered once more, sure this time he would hear me.

“Ara?” Morgaine stepped onto the balcony.

“Hey, Morg.” I sighed.

“Are you ready now?”

“Not really.”

“Well, ready or not, you have a room full of handsome men waiting to dance with you.” She grinned, and the beaming light radiating off her, with the contrast of a deep purple dress on her milk-white skin, made me draw a breath.

“Morg, you look so beautiful.”

“Well—” she took my hand as we started walking, “—I have a special date tonight.”

“Who?” I asked, then smiled. “Is it Blade?”

“How’d you know?”

I shrugged. “Intuition.”

“Hm,” she said, closing my bedroom door. “Well, I don’t need intuition to smell a certain individual all over you.”

“Oh.” I looked down at my dress, then at a piece of fabric she held out to me. “What’s this?”

“It’s a stole.”

“A what?”

She grabbed it and wrapped it over my shoulders. “It’s like a shawl.”

“Oh. Why am I wearing it?”

“It has David’s scent on it. It was Arietta’s; he kept it after she died.”

“Do I have to wear it all night?” I touched my fingers to it; it was delicate, black, transparent, and it looked nice against the red of my dress but kept slipping off my shoulders.

“It’s either this or garlic. You choose.”

“The stole it is,” I said. “So, will this really be enough to disguise his scent on me?”

“No,” she said, as we strolled through the corridor to the stairs. “But it will be enough to stop questions being raised.”

“You hope.”

She smiled back at me. “I hope.”

From the balcony, overlooking the room of ball gowns and tuxedos, I spotted Arthur, laying his violin aside. He looked up, his eyes meeting mine as if he sensed me across the room.

I waved at him, and he bowed, closing his eyes for a second, then started toward us. Mike watched Arthur move, tracking his gaze, and when he looked up and saw me, placed his wine glass on the piano top, farewelled his comrades and moved swiftly across the floor, taking sideways glances at Arthur.