As had his intention to take her humanity from her.
It was not something he wanted to do, not something he looked forward to doing, but it was something he had to do. Something he was going to do. He realized that now, he just hoped that eventually she would come around to be willing. He didn’t know how he would handle it if she wasn’t, didn’t know how he would handle it if she remained human for much longer. But he could not take the chance of losing her again. When he thought back to the things he had done after she left him, he was repulsed by his actions. He was shocked by the depths of his depravity, shocked by his fervent need to lose himself in blood, sex, and death in order to try and forget her. He had never experienced that ravenous hunger and brutality that had encompassed him. It had ensnared him within a web of death that had done little to ease the tortured pain residing within his soul.
A pain that she had inflicted and only she had eased. And he had come to realize that it would only ever be her that could pull him from that dark place. A place he had entered a few times today, slaughtering and killing anyone that had posed any kind of threat to her life. She could pull him back from the brink of madness; she gave him some kind of control over himself. But it was a control that was unraveling rapidly.
He knew that, he could feel it within the marrow of his bones. She would be his undoing, as he would be hers.
She was everything to him; she was his light in a world that had been black before her. In a world that he had not seen for so long before her. She could not stay human, and he was not sure that he could change her. He’d heard of it being done before, but had never witnessed it, and had never attempted such a feat himself. It was dangerous, many did not survive.
He was determined that she would.
“Braith.” Ashby was watching him wearily, his eyes narrowed and distrustful. Yet, there was something in his eyes, something almost knowing. Braith stopped pacing, tilting his head as he studied his enemy. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
Braith strode toward the window. He pulled the curtain back, peering out on the lightening day. He didn’t expect Jack to make it today, but perhaps by nightfall. “Have you forsaken your right to the throne?”
He turned as the young girl gasped in shock. He had tightened her bonds, making it almost impossible for her to move. Arianna’s soft pleas had saved the woman’s life; it would not take much for him to change his mind though. “You are the prince?” she inquired in awe.
“I am no prince,” Braith growled at her.
The girl’s eyes were wide, fearful. She squiggled against her tight ropes, struggling to break free. Arianna watched her in wide eyed fascination, but he could see the deep turmoil churning behind her eyes. She didn’t like what he’d done to the girl, but she didn’t protest it either. She seemed resigned to the fact that the woman would remain tied tightly, she was not resigned to this situation though as her eyes came wearily back to him.
“So the son has turned his back on his father. Caleb must be thrilled,” Ashby purred. “What must Jericho think?” Braith remained silent; Ashby would learn soon enough that Jericho had abandoned his place in the palace long before Braith had. “The palace streets will run red with blood if Caleb ever ascends the throne.”
Braith snorted in disgust as he shook his head at Ashby. “Do you really think my father is ready to hand over his rule?”
“I think that Caleb will try to take it from him, when he is ready to.”
“You may be right.”
“It will be horrific and violent.”
“It will,” Braith agreed.
Frustration flashed across Ashby’s handsome features. “You know what will happen with Caleb in charge Braith. You know what he will do. This pretty little thing that you’ve brought in here, you know what Caleb would do to her!”
“He’ll have to find her first.”
Ashby’s eyes widened, he climbed slowly to his feet. Stepping forward, he came up against the tight bonds wrapped around him. “Braith, this is Caleb we are talking about. He will raze every town in order to find you, in order to make sure that you do not come back and try to reclaim your birthright. You think your father is a sadistic son of a bitch, he has nothing on Caleb.”
“I know my family Ashby,” Braith hissed.
Ashby shook his head. For the first time, true fear flickered through his bright green eyes. “You have no idea of the stain that rests on their souls,” Ashby said softly. “Of their cruelty and immorality.”
“And you do?” Braith inquired.
Ashby was silent for a long moment. He turned slowly toward Arianna. “We didn’t turn against your family because mine was hoping to take over, because we wanted the power, or because we cared about the humans.” Arianna glared at Ashby. “We wanted nothing of power Braith, you know that. We were an easy going lot, all of us. Power was never our goal; fun was all that we ever wanted, freedom, no restraints. It was not power we sought Braith, it was not to save the human race.”
Braith folded his arms firmly over his chest, leaning back on his heels as he studied his brother-in-law with disdain. “Then what did you want?” he demanded.
“Peace Braith, we simply sought peace. Things were well enough before the war. So what if vampires did not wander about in public. Who cared that we had to keep our identities secret? Not me, not my family, not you. It’s not as if we didn’t have fun, not as if we didn’t take whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted it anyway. Why upset the balance? Why take a chance that it could all go wrong? That it could be even worse afterward?
“And it was worse afterward. For everyone. We were relegated to these positions that none of us wanted. You had always been the prince amongst our people, but you know you never wanted it, and until the war you never thought seriously about what it meant. Do you think I wanted to marry that bitch sister of yours? Natasha could suck the fun and life out of the happiest fellow. Which, I was until that time.”
Braith was not surprised to find Arianna enrapt by what Ashby was saying. She was leaning slightly forward, her hands clasped tightly before her, her mouth parted as she listened intently. He wanted very much to remove her from this room, and Ashby’s poison, but he knew that she would not go. Besides, Ashby was right; Natasha was cold, hateful, and almost as twisted as Caleb himself. And though Ashby was fun loving, and more than enjoyed his share of blood, he had never relished in the death as so many members of Braith’s family did. As Braith himself had.