Days, it seemed, before his brother finally turned to face him again.
And then it came, a whisper carried on a wave of sadness and remorse so vast it threatened to drown them both.
“I knew, Dorian. I knew she was a vampire.”
“The entire time?”
Gabriel shook his head. “She confessed to me after I’d…”
He paused again. Took a breath. Opened and closed his mouth a half-dozen times as the world continued to turn and time marched ceaselessly onward, and still Dorian was no closer to understanding his brother’s darkness. To understanding any of this.
“For fuck’s sake, Gabriel. After you’d what?”
“After I’d caught… It was late one evening. I was in the study, and I heard what sounded like an argument in the sitting room. But when I went to investigate, I…” He closed his eyes and grimaced, as if the memory still had the power to make him ill. “It wasn’t an argument. Evie and Father were… entangled. Quite thoroughly.”
Dorian blinked, waiting for the punchline that never came. “Evie and… and Father?”
“I waited in the shadows until he finally retired to his chamber, and then I cornered her, demanding an explanation. Naturally I assumed the worst. Levied all manner of accusations, called her every name in the bloody book, threatened her, all in defense of my eldest brother’s so-called honor.” Another broken laugh shook loose from the deep well of resentment inside him. “And for what, Dorian? To stand here among the ruins before my king—my blood—and convince him I’m not a monster? So many years, so much bloodshed, so many secrets, and this is what we’ve come to.” He pointed a cruel, accusatory finger at Dorian’s chest, swaying on his feet. “Fuck off, brother. We’re all monsters, carved in our father’s image, just as he intended.”
Gabriel’s drunken speech quickly descended into a rampage about Augustus’ endless machinations, but Dorian could scarcely hear the words. His mind was stuck on the image of his fiancée and his father, thoroughly entangled.
His heartbeat thudded in his ears, the room spinning as the blood rushed to his head. “Evie was… She had an affair with… with Father?”
Gabriel’s gaze sharpened, cutting straight through Dorian’s heart. “Did you not know her at all?”
“Not as well as he did, it would seem.”
“He was blackmailing her, Dorian! For months. Somehow, he’d uncovered her secret and forced her into the arrangement. He berated and demeaned her for what she was, then he took what he wanted from her, including the information that ultimately lead him to the royal vampire family. He threatened to kill you both if she breathed so much as a word to you. So instead, she breathed it to me.”
Memories slithered up from the depths, like corpses rising from the grave.
Evie, recoiling at his father’s every touch or gesture as they shared a family meal.
Evie, crying in the sitting room, not realizing Dorian had been watching her helplessly from the hall, desperately seeking the right words.
Evie. Sad, complicated Evie, alone in a world of monsters she just couldn’t escape.
Dorian held up his hands and tried to speak, if only to stop the rest of this dark tale from escaping his brother’s lips. But when he took a breath, his throat closed upon the words like a fist, and Gabriel continued, every revelation stealing a part of Dorian’s soul he knew he’d never get back.
“I promised her I’d help her find a way to tell you—to break Father’s hold over her before he could solidify whatever dastardly deal he’d made with the king.” Gabriel’s voice turned thin and watery, as if he were swimming through an ocean of his own torment. “But I failed you both, Dorian. In the end, Father got everything he wanted. And here we are—the last of a dying legacy, one dark secret away from turning each other to ash.”
Dorian collapsed against the bourbon-soaked wall behind him and slid down to the floor, unable to stand beneath the weight of Gabriel’s confession.
Knowledge was its own kind of burden, ignorance its own kind of bliss, and in that moment, Dorian wanted nothing so badly as a return to the latter.
That the cold shadows of the past clung to Gabriel like a second skin was no surprise to him. None of the Redthorne brothers had escaped Augustus’ reign unmarred.
But he’d never fathomed the true depths of his brother’s anguish—a darkness that had chased him across the centuries and hardened his heart to ice.
There were no words of comfort to offer. Even if they’d existed, Dorian’s mind