Wasn’t easy.
Being near Theodora felt like having my body drawn and quartered, each appendage bound to a different emotion that threatened to tear me to pieces. Despair for what and who I was. Anger because I was unable to control it. Fear that I might repeat history. Again.
Yet somewhere, buried deep inside, was a flicker of hope that my torment would soon end. I merely needed to persuade Theodora to make it happen. That was what this was all about, this game I was playing to carefully lure her in.
I drew a steady breath and decided the best place to start was at the beginning. I would need to ease her toward the truth. Her own mind would do the rest and nudge her into the light.
If for some reason that didn’t work, well…I could always torture her to get what I wanted.
Yeah, I think I might like that. She looked like she needed a good whipping.
Fuck, Mack. I pulled myself back from the dark ledge. I had to remember who I really was. Or used to be: someone who wasn’t an angel, but had a few redeeming qualities.
I cleared my throat. “My real name is Callias Macarias Minos, the second son of Archon and Elysia. And brother to Draco, my twin who was born a few minutes ahead—more than enough to set my life on a different path from his—or so I thought.” In reality, we’d ended up on very similar paths.
Theodora uncrossed her legs and straightened her back. Every movement of her curvy body amped my salacious urges. And then there was her voice and sweet smell. Even the way she wore her dark hair cropped right at her jawline, calling attention to her delicate neck, was pure temptation.
“You—you have a twin?” she asked.
Yeah. Get the fuck over it. He’s taken. Of course, once her memories began returning, she’d remember what a ruthless bastard my brother was.
“I do,” I replied. “And while my brother would become leader one day, I would be groomed to serve him. At least, that was the hope of my parents. However, after they passed from an illness brought over from the mainland via one of the local merchants, I decided to abandon any pretenses of becoming my brother’s obedient servant.”
“So,” she interrupted, “you lived on an island. Where exactly?”
“In Greece.” Or, more accurately, what would one day become Crete. But I would get to that part in a moment.
“I see. So it sounds like you didn’t like your brother much,” Theodora said, keeping her tone neutral. I assumed she wanted to keep up with pretenses of her own and tell herself this was a clinical evaluation of sorts. It wasn’t, of course. Somewhere deep in her soul, she knew our meeting wasn’t a coincidence. She knew that something terrible would happen once I reached the end of my story. This was her fate. And mine.
“I loved my brother,” I replied. “But I felt my time was better spent fucking and drinking. After all, I was free from any real responsibility. Why not enjoy it?”
“How’d that work out for you?”
The ugly answer sat right in front of her with a heart so cold and a rage so deep, I could barely breathe some days. Unless those were the days I killed someone. Killing was the only thing that gave me relief. Temporarily.
She looks like she’d give me another type of relief. I could practically smell her arousal in the air.
No, Mack, I censured myself. You are not going to touch her. Still, I already felt a war beginning to rage inside me, and the clock was ticking. My not-so-kind side always triumphed.
I continued, “My life was great until my bastard of a brother came to me one day with a request—a favor—which I did out of guilt.”
“So, you did this favor for your brother. Then what?” She shifted in her chair. I knew she felt anxious sitting in the dark, but looking at her face would only make things more difficult for me. The less I saw of her, the better. At least, that had been my plan going in. Now, I wasn’t so sure it would make one hell of a goddamned difference.
Still, I had to push forward. I had to make her see the truth.
“What happened next wasn’t pretty,” I replied to her question. “More like the beginning of a long nightmare. However, Draco never asked for anything. Not once. The bastard was too proud for that. Which is why I couldn’t turn my back on him.”
“What did he ask you to do?”
“He asked me to fight him to the death—his death,” I replied.
I could see the frame of her body going still.
“And you killed him,” she concluded correctly.
“Yes. Draco had executed a woman named Hagne, who attempted to murder the love of his life. Unfortunately, Hagne’s death, even if justified by our laws, was a problem. She was what we called a Seer, a sort of sacred priestess, if you will. Her family was very influential and threatened civil war if they didn’t get Draco’s head, something I would later learn was inevitable—the war part, I mean.”