Silken Rapture (Princes of the Underground 2)

Aubrey stared at him in amazement. “Are you that great of a fool?” he whispered in astonishment. “You planned to become mortal?”

Blaise gripped his heartluster and lifted it toward Aubrey’s neck. “I do not want immortality and power over others. I want to live because I choose to, not because I must. I wanted what I thought I could never have—the ability to love. Isabel gifted me with that. She gave me the impossible. I don’t expect you to understand,” he said as he looked into his one-time companion’s bewildered eyes. “How could you comprehend me, when you so willingly gave away the precious soul you once possessed?”

“I did not want to die!” Aubrey spat.

“You would have died clean, your soul intact.”

“Who cares about my soul when my brain would have been riddled and ruined by the plague,” Aubrey hissed.

Sadness filled him. “You should know that I did care for you, Aubrey. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough. Goodbye, my friend.”

He slashed his arm in an arc. The heartluster tore through Aubrey’s neck.

Slowly, by degrees, the soft sound of crying penetrated his grief and anger. He threw down his heartluster and reached for Isabel. She came down next to him. They knelt, holding each other. Isabel’s tears wet his cheek, and his wound burned all the way to his newly found soul.

After a while, Blaise helped Isabel rise and dress.

“I have to leave you, but only for a short time,” Blaise told her.

“Why?” Isabel asked.

“Isi told me that the Scourge revenants were weakened when Teslar was vanquished. I need to take the Literati into the tunnels, to finish them off. The underground must be cleansed.”

“No,” she whispered, looking decimated. “I’m afraid you won’t return.”

He touched her cheek. “I will return. I have to do this, Isabel. Please understand.”

She nodded after a moment, but her limbs shook. The direct contact with the crystal must have weakened her. Even though he was the one who was wounded, Isabel staggered next to him as they started to leave the room. He put his arms around her and took her weight.

Stupid, weak woman, Shirian thought bitterly. She’d watched the scene unfold before her, unable to manifest due to Aubrey’s prohibition against touching the crystal. She could only do so if he commanded it, or if he allowed her to wear the crystal necklace. That damned woman had ripped the crystal from her neck, jerking her out of her physical body.

Hatred for Isabel Lanscourt poured through her.

Shirian knelt next to Aubrey. He was the only man who had ever mastered her. She could not help but respect him. His essence had become fused to hers. Now he was gone, and she could not touch the crystal without his permission. Never again would she be clothed in beautiful flesh, never again would she feel delicious sensation.

She whimpered when she heard Aubrey’s voice in her head.

“You are not hearing things. It is me. My brain is still alive, though not for long. Touch the crystal, demon. Touch it, and then touch me.”

Shirian scurried to do his bidding. The crystal’s energy flooded her, congealing her essence into flesh, immediately stealing the air from her newly-formed lungs. She reached and touched Aubrey’s bare hand. Energy poured through her.

Aubrey’s gray eyes opened wide on his decapitated head.

Epilogue

They stood together in St. James Park beneath a cherry tree in full bloom, their arms around one another, watching as people passed.

“They look so happy, don’t they?” Isabel murmured into Blaise’s chest, referring to a young family who w

alked by—a man, woman and their two school-age children. He grunted in agreement, stroking her shoulder.

“Next spring, the baby will be with us here in the park.”

“Yes,” Isabel murmured happily. She brushed her fingers over her belly. At three months pregnant, she had yet to feel much of a bulge, but she sensed the child’s presence. “Usan said the baby couldn’t be any healthier than she is.”

The sound Blaise made caused her to stare up at his face. A cherry blossom fell on his shoulder, its softness such a contrast to his bold, intimidating male beauty. “You are still angry at Usan?” she whispered. “For using his magic to keep you from telling the other princes about what happened to us…about how you conquered Morshiel?”

“Yes. About you and the baby, as well.” His gaze ran over her upturned face and his eyes softened. He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. As always, his touch on her bare skin made her shiver with pleasure.