Bound by Flames (Night Prince 3)

I glanced at the ruined carpet, chair and laptop before returning my gaze to him. “Does this, ah, happen a lot?”

“No.”

Another one-word answer, as if his tone wasn’t already conveying that he didn’t want to talk about it. Well, if you give your wife a flaming facial; she’s not going to drop the subject.

“What was the dream?” I persisted.

His mouth twisted into a smile that was part annoyed, part challenging. “Are you certain you want to know?”

“I told you before, your secrets don’t scare me,” I replied, holding his burnished copper gaze. “Besides, I’m not tired anymore and clearly, neither are you.”

This time, his smile held shades of darkness that still didn’t warn me away. Pandora must’ve felt the same way when she couldn’t stop herself from opening that infamous box.

“Not here. We’ve given my people enough to wonder about as it is.”

He pulled me to him. In two strides, we were at the window, and then he was flying me through it.

Chapter 6

Tuscany was beautiful at night. Of course, I hadn’t seen it during the day, but the quiet that draped over the picturesque countryside and old-world architecture made flying over towns such as Casole d’Elsa and Cetona feel romantic despite the circumstances. Eventually, Vlad set us down at the edge of a vineyard, leading me beneath a gnarled tree that might have been as old as he was, judging from its height and girth.

Vlad left me by that thick trunk to pace a few feet away. I didn’t say anything. He’d brought me out here, so he’d tell me what was bothering him when he was ready.

“I’ve been imprisoned twice in my life,” he began, his crisp words belying the surge I felt as he dropped his walls and let me back into his feelings. “Once as a boy when my father bartered me in exchange for political security, and again two decades later when Mihaly Szilagyi compelled the king of Hungary to incarcerate me after I first lost my throne.”

“I know,” I said, remembering the only time he’d spoken of his childhood captivity. That man wouldn’t have survived years of beatings and rape as a boy because sheer hatred kept him from breaking . . .

He shot me a look, as if he knew what I’d been thinking. “The second time was worse, though I was only starved instead of tortured and raped. Do you know why it was more unbearable?”

“No,” I whispered. How could anything be worse than that?

His gaze filled with a terrible knowledge while his irises changed from copper to brilliant green.

“Because love cuts deeper than the sharpest blade, cripples more than shattered bones, and leaves scars that can never fade. Szilagyi held my son’s life over me the entire time I was his captive, and being helpless to protect my child was worse torment than anything my previous captors had done. After my wife killed herself, I swore I’d never love another woman. When Szilagyi later had my son murdered, I didn’t want to care about anyone again, ever. Love had broken me, so I replaced it with revenge, ruthlessness, and the determination not to be at anyone’s mercy, be they enemy, lover or friend. It’s why I’ve protected my people as a whole, yet refused to value one person more than the other, and also why I’ve had few lovers and even fewer friends. For over five hundred years, I structured my life to keep my vow never to let anyone touch my heart again.”

I couldn’t stop the tear that slid down my cheek as his emotions changed from bitter remembrance to something richer, deeper, and at the same time, even more fierce. Vlad touched the trail my tear made and smiled with fleeting, jaded amusement.

“Too late to weep for my lost vow, Leila. You’re the one who forced me to break it.”

“I’m not sorry,” I said softly, turning my head to kiss his palm. “I can’t be. Not when I love you more than anything, too.”

He stroked my face, then dropped his hand. “Long ago, I used to dream that I was back in prison. My rage over my helplessness would sometimes cause me to wake up with my hands on fire. Those dreams went away with time, but another one never did. It’s the same thing I dreamt earlier: I’m by the river, holding my wife’s dead body and screaming . . .”

I closed my eyes. He’d asked me if I really wanted to know what he’d dreamed and I’d said yes. How would I have guessed that it would hurt me, too? Vlad didn’t have to tell me how much he had loved his former wife. I’d felt it when I relived that day by the river the first time I touched him. His guilt over her suicide was the sin he held closest to his skin.

“ . . . only this time, when I pushed her hair back, I didn’t see Clara’s face,” Vlad went on, his newly harsh tone snapping my eyes open. “I saw yours.”

I drew in a breath out of shock. His smile was a grim slash while his gaze burned into mine.

“Thinking I’d lost you is why I nearly blew up the bedroom in my sleep. I know I . . . overreacted by smothering your abilities. It was wrong of me, but I can’t say I’m sorry. I am at war with an enemy who is smart, powerful, and ruthless, but Szilagyi doesn’t need to strike me down to win. You aren’t just my weakness, Leila.” Vlad drew me next to him, one hand sliding along my jaw while the other caressed my back. “You are my destruction, because if I were to lose you, it would finish me.”

He kissed me then, deep and passionate, while his emotions swirled with equal intensity through mine. They reaffirmed that he wasn’t sorry about what he’d done, would in fact do it again, but they also whispered something else amidst the violent determination that said he’d do anything to protect me. nced at the ruined carpet, chair and laptop before returning my gaze to him. “Does this, ah, happen a lot?”

“No.”

Another one-word answer, as if his tone wasn’t already conveying that he didn’t want to talk about it. Well, if you give your wife a flaming facial; she’s not going to drop the subject.

“What was the dream?” I persisted.

His mouth twisted into a smile that was part annoyed, part challenging. “Are you certain you want to know?”

“I told you before, your secrets don’t scare me,” I replied, holding his burnished copper gaze. “Besides, I’m not tired anymore and clearly, neither are you.”

This time, his smile held shades of darkness that still didn’t warn me away. Pandora must’ve felt the same way when she couldn’t stop herself from opening that infamous box.

“Not here. We’ve given my people enough to wonder about as it is.”

He pulled me to him. In two strides, we were at the window, and then he was flying me through it.

Chapter 6

Tuscany was beautiful at night. Of course, I hadn’t seen it during the day, but the quiet that draped over the picturesque countryside and old-world architecture made flying over towns such as Casole d’Elsa and Cetona feel romantic despite the circumstances. Eventually, Vlad set us down at the edge of a vineyard, leading me beneath a gnarled tree that might have been as old as he was, judging from its height and girth.

Vlad left me by that thick trunk to pace a few feet away. I didn’t say anything. He’d brought me out here, so he’d tell me what was bothering him when he was ready.

“I’ve been imprisoned twice in my life,” he began, his crisp words belying the surge I felt as he dropped his walls and let me back into his feelings. “Once as a boy when my father bartered me in exchange for political security, and again two decades later when Mihaly Szilagyi compelled the king of Hungary to incarcerate me after I first lost my throne.”

“I know,” I said, remembering the only time he’d spoken of his childhood captivity. That man wouldn’t have survived years of beatings and rape as a boy because sheer hatred kept him from breaking . . .

He shot me a look, as if he knew what I’d been thinking. “The second time was worse, though I was only starved instead of tortured and raped. Do you know why it was more unbearable?”

“No,” I whispered. How could anything be worse than that?

His gaze filled with a terrible knowledge while his irises changed from copper to brilliant green.

“Because love cuts deeper than the sharpest blade, cripples more than shattered bones, and leaves scars that can never fade. Szilagyi held my son’s life over me the entire time I was his captive, and being helpless to protect my child was worse torment than anything my previous captors had done. After my wife killed herself, I swore I’d never love another woman. When Szilagyi later had my son murdered, I didn’t want to care about anyone again, ever. Love had broken me, so I replaced it with revenge, ruthlessness, and the determination not to be at anyone’s mercy, be they enemy, lover or friend. It’s why I’ve protected my people as a whole, yet refused to value one person more than the other, and also why I’ve had few lovers and even fewer friends. For over five hundred years, I structured my life to keep my vow never to let anyone touch my heart again.”

I couldn’t stop the tear that slid down my cheek as his emotions changed from bitter remembrance to something richer, deeper, and at the same time, even more fierce. Vlad touched the trail my tear made and smiled with fleeting, jaded amusement.

“Too late to weep for my lost vow, Leila. You’re the one who forced me to break it.”

“I’m not sorry,” I said softly, turning my head to kiss his palm. “I can’t be. Not when I love you more than anything, too.”

He stroked my face, then dropped his hand. “Long ago, I used to dream that I was back in prison. My rage over my helplessness would sometimes cause me to wake up with my hands on fire. Those dreams went away with time, but another one never did. It’s the same thing I dreamt earlier: I’m by the river, holding my wife’s dead body and screaming . . .”

I closed my eyes. He’d asked me if I really wanted to know what he’d dreamed and I’d said yes. How would I have guessed that it would hurt me, too? Vlad didn’t have to tell me how much he had loved his former wife. I’d felt it when I relived that day by the river the first time I touched him. His guilt over her suicide was the sin he held closest to his skin.

“ . . . only this time, when I pushed her hair back, I didn’t see Clara’s face,” Vlad went on, his newly harsh tone snapping my eyes open. “I saw yours.”

I drew in a breath out of shock. His smile was a grim slash while his gaze burned into mine.

“Thinking I’d lost you is why I nearly blew up the bedroom in my sleep. I know I . . . overreacted by smothering your abilities. It was wrong of me, but I can’t say I’m sorry. I am at war with an enemy who is smart, powerful, and ruthless, but Szilagyi doesn’t need to strike me down to win. You aren’t just my weakness, Leila.” Vlad drew me next to him, one hand sliding along my jaw while the other caressed my back. “You are my destruction, because if I were to lose you, it would finish me.”

He kissed me then, deep and passionate, while his emotions swirled with equal intensity through mine. They reaffirmed that he wasn’t sorry about what he’d done, would in fact do it again, but they also whispered something else amidst the violent determination that said he’d do anything to protect me.