Pure Destiny (PureDark Ones #12) - Aja James Page 0,63

her voice was still frozen. She could do nothing but continue to listen, even though he barely seemed aware that she was there.

“To me, Darkness can be beautiful too.”

Finally, Titi whispered in the voice of a lost, frightened little girl, “Papa.”

He blinked and turned toward her, regarding her with those warm, amber eyes, overflowing with love. But also a strange sadness.

“Look at you, my sweet Ninti,” he said in his husky timbre.

“A child of Darkness and Light. You look so much like your mother. You have the best of us both. But you must also defend against the worst. One day, you will have to choose. Just as I have made my choice. No matter what happens, I will never regret it.”

“Papa…” she whimpered, well and truly terrified in this moment.

And then, suddenly, something soft and furry tickled her nose, making her scrunch up in a violent sneeze.

She shrieked with dismay, and then glee, when Papa pounced on top of her in his leopard cub form, pressing on all of her funny bones with each nimble bounce.

Worries instantly forgotten, Titi scrambled off the ground to chase after the giant kitten as it bounded around the hut to the hills beyond.

So immersed in carefree happiness, Titi could never have imagined that that very night, after supper, her whole life would change in the blink of an eye. When the Dark Queen Ashlu took her beloved Papa away and forever extinguished the light in Mama’s eyes.

Until only Darkness remained.

Chapter Eleven

I need you.

I love you.

I choose you.

Choose me too.

Iloveyou Iloveyou Iloveyou…

Dalair surfaced from the midnight pool with a deep gulp of breath.

His chest shuddering. Heart pounding. Pulse racing.

Senses wide open.

It felt like the first breath of life.

And perhaps it was. For he had been dead inside for far too long. So long, he’d forgotten what it was to feel—

The cool air tingling on his damp, heated skin. The sound of wind whistling through the trees. The soft, bluish light from a crescent moon. And the various degrees of darkness in the cloudless sky.

That had been the problem all his existence: he felt too much.

On the surface, he was hard and implacable. No weakness, no emotion. He’d had to guard himself from an early age, the son of a royal concubine in the Outer Circle. Because of who his mother was, and the King’s preference for her despite her lowly station as a slave, Dalair and Vashti had only each other against the world. Whereas his mother chose a mask of smiles, Dalair’s mask was entirely blank.

He always held his feelings deep inside, buried and hidden where no one could reach them. Where no one could hurt him.

Was it any wonder that his Gift as a reborn Pure One was hyper-senses? The Goddess always amplified the strengths (or weaknesses) each individual already possessed. Because of this, Dalair hid himself even more.

He could not afford to repeat the same mistake. When the mere scent of Sophia in the air, a sigh of breath from her lips, a casual brush of her skin could harden him to the point of breaking…he had no choice but to make his masks even more impenetrable.

He would not survive loving her again. Even though he’d never stopped.

Ironically, he was exactly the sort of soldier that was perfect for Medusa’s armies. When they first started turning him, he almost welcomed the numbing of his senses, the silencing of his soul. If he didn’t feel any more, didn’t want or hurt any more, perhaps his existence would be somewhat bearable. Perhaps he wouldn’t relive the agony of hopelessly loving Kira every time he closed his eyes.

But he didn’t want the end of his suffering to come at the cost of others. He fought as hard as he could against his body being used as a weapon for their enemies.

Ironically again, it was the Creature who both tormented him and saved him from himself. Every time his soul wanted to give up, the Creature resuscitated him. He even injected Dalair with a piece of his own soul to keep him on the edge of life and death, to remind him of his deepest shame and regrets, heartbreak and hope, fury and vengeance, so that he never totally lost the ability to feel.

So that his soul never fully gave up.

Now, Dalair knew who the Creature really was.

Cambyses.

Erebu.

His friend. His nemesis.

His brother.

He stayed still, soaking it all in. Standing waist deep in the shallow end of a fresh-water pool at the bottom of the waterfall