Oh, I had no doubt that he would forgive me, and he wouldn't have blamed me, for I didn't know that was his brother. But I had been the one to say the words to Nero.
I had been the one to tell her of the traitor and told her who he was, meaning whether it was known or unknown, it was still my fault as much as it was his. A guilt I would forever hold as no doubt Lucius would also.
The only thing I had left now was to hope and pray it didn’t come to that, and that Lucius discovered the truth. Discovered the truth about what he believed was his own…
Brother’s betrayal
18
Living Nightmares
Lucius
“Where the fuck is she!” I roared in anger which had long ago consumed my mortal body, for my demon permanently perambulated the floors of my castle like some caged beast clawing at the confines of my own prison made. For that was exactly what this place felt like, knowing that she was out there and,
Not. Fucking. Here!
“There has been no word, my Lord,” Carn’reau said, making me want to snap something in half and feel bones crushing beneath my palm. I felt like a wild eagle with wings that were fucking useless for they had nowhere to fly to that I knew would help. Knowing that I had to remain here in case my brother managed to escape his bounds was a Hell within this Hell. Just another thing for me to be furious with him for, as if betrayal wasn’t enough, I thought bitterly.
Something, that pacing my brother’s office, wasn’t helping, for being surrounded by the things he held dear was fucking with my head! Because all it did was remind me of better times together. Persia… what had it been about that fucking place that had drawn us in like moths to the fucking flame! I hated the idea that it had been her fucking father, but all evidence suggested just that. And now I knew why…
My fated Chosen One.
Speaking of which,
“I do not understand how it is taking so long!” I snapped, hammering a fist down on yet another desk, Dariush’s carved one of a Persian army fighting the Romans was long ago in pieces and beyond repair. But this had not been the first time this question had been grated through teeth and come out sounding raw, for I was fully aware of the time ticking down. Because I knew what was coming. I knew what I had to do, and I didn't relish one fucking second of it!
My brother’s execution.
I wanted Amelia back and if I was honest, it wasn't solely just so I knew she was safe. It was more for selfish reasons, for I needed her comfort right in this moment like never before. I couldn't remember the last time I had done something that was as difficult as this without Amelia being the cause or reason. Like the night that I intended to break her heart and make her run from me without ever looking back. Of course, this had backfired, giving my first experience of raw fucking panic not long after she had run from my nightclub believing I was an utter bastard.
But, despite the bloody outcome of that night, even then everything I had done had been done with purpose. Had been done for the greater good, if you will. I had been convinced that what would keep the girl safe was severing any ties before they could be made with me. I thought back on what seemed an easier decision to make back then. Of course, at the time, seeing her that way, all dressed up to impress me, looking like the innocent little virgin she had been… well, fuck me, but I had needed a fucking sainthood just for having the strength at turning down such temptation!
Fucking perfection, even then.
But now I had tasted her, claimed her little moans of pleasure and screams of desperation and rapture, then no fucking way I could be that strong again! She was mine, in every way possible and fuck me, but I wanted my girl back!
Yet, despite this, a niggling feeling at the pit of my stomach told me something was coming. Another fucking impossible decision I would have to make, just like the one I was being forced to make in regard to my brother’s death.
Gods be damned, but it had been one thing after another that had