The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe) (37 page)

“Yes!” The Major extracted a dagger from its sheath on his belt and raised it for everyone to see. “The curved tip on this silver dagger literally anchors it to the flesh of the heart. It is designed to cause serious damage if the enemy pulled it out. For the dagger to lodge in more securely, the direction of the thrust should be at an angle.”

The Major leapt in the air with both hands clutching the dagger ove
rhead and landed close enough to thrust it at a forty-five degree angle, an inch away from Ben's chest. The mini propeller shook more violently and Ben uttered something about giving birth to a real baby.

“Thank you, Mr. Walker, for participating in t
oday's demonstration. You may go back to your row.” Major Alexander shifted his attention to the class. “The classic techniques you have just witnessed are used to incapacitate the enemy prior to cremation, which will complete the kill.”

“Sir?” Bret raised a hand with a black leather band at the wrist, brimming with pointed spikes. “Won't a dagger to the heart not only incapacitate, but kill a
Deimon too?”

“Yes, Mr. Kline, but only temp
orarily. It impairs all the bodily functions, shutting down the brain and paralyzing the enemy, but it won't kill him completely.”

“You mean a
Deimon could still recover after being staked?” Julie Anne asked.

“As long as someone pulls the da
gger off him, Miss Riggs. If not, then he will stay frozen, lifeless to a degree. Remember, our body temperature is significantly lower than that of humans. The only factors stabilizing our temperature are our functioning bodily systems. If these fail collectively, our temperature plunges. Hence, we freeze to death—literally. Does anyone have any idea how it feels like to get staked?” Major Alexander swept his eyes around the class. “No? Very well. It's like having a major heart attack.” He squeezed his fist over his heart. “A massive pressure builds up before the heart begins to solidify. All the arteries and veins in the body calcify and circulation stops. A total systemic failure follows. The pain is extremely excruciating, comparable to a slow death. Then, final paralysis sets in within a minute or two.”

“Damn! That was hardcore, man!” Carlos exclaimed as the bell rang and Major Alexander dismissed the class.

“Hardcore?” Ben grimaced as they piled to the exit door. “Try standing in front, waiting for your head to get chopped off and you'll know what hardcore really means!”

“By the way—, that was cool.” Carlos elbowed Ben. “I bet Bart Hammerstein would've crapped in his pants even before Major Alexander wielded that mean-looking sword.” 

“Talking about Bart,” Lela whispered, darting her eyes towards the guy in question, who was walking with his friends several paces ahead of them in the corridor. “He and his cronies have been keeping a low profile since that incident with Chad.”

“I'm really worried about Chad,” Elizabeth said. “He was acting kinda weird last time I saw him.”

“Weird, as in—?” Lela asked.

“I don't know—, troubled, I guess,” she replied. “I just had the impression he was saying goodbye or something.”

“Look, dah-ling—,” Ben placed a hand on her arm, “face the facts. The guy likes you. My diva radar picked that up eons ago. Now don't stare at me as if I've grown an extra eye on my forehead. Like I said, we're not blind or stupid. We do notice things, you know.”

“Actually,” Carlos interjected before she could say anything, “I think Chad more than likes you. Seriously—, he has the super-hots for you. Anyone can see from the way he looks at you, even from the first time, when he gave you
the eyes
at the dining hall.”

“We kinda knew it for a while.” Lela shrugged. “We thought he was eventually going to make his move so we just watched and waited, but then the Prince showed up and I think that really rattled him. I mean—, put you
rself in his shoes. How can one compete with a rival who's the sole heir to the throne?”

“Bottom line is,” Ben said as they reached the par
king lot exit, “the guy is probably broken hearted, that's why he's acting strange and staying away.”

Elizabeth shook her head with a snort. “I think you guys are exagge
rating things. Chad is a good friend and we hit it off easily. For all we know, he might be sick or something.”

“Honey, Deimons don't get sick.” Ben arched a painted eyebrow. “The guy is probably too depressed because he's madly in love with you. Unfortunately, you're already taken by Prince
Hottie,
speaking of which, here he comes—, on time, for once.”

Star-crossed Lovers

       Catherine followed the tall, brown haired American Officer who had introduced himself as Colonel Reynolds when he picked her up from the hotel. He drove her to an isolated private property and led her to a surprisingly modern building surrounded by dense woods.

Inside, Catherine was amazed to find that the first five floors were military headquarters with several desks, computers, maps on the walls and uniformed men busily going about their tasks. As they stepped off the escalator and entered the double doors on the sixth floor, however, she was astonished to discover that inside was a luxurious residence.

“Lady Catherine, Your Grace,” Colonel Reynolds announced as they entered a spacious, elegantly appointed room.

John Drake rose from his chair b
ehind a large table. “Catherine. Welcome.”

“Your Grace.” Catherine curtsied and watched his amused expression at her formality.

“That will be all, Colonel Reynolds. Please ensure that no one disturbs us,” John said, but his eyes remained on her.

Colonel Reynolds bowed and took his leave, shu
tting the door with a dull click.

“Your Grace, the Colonel said you have info
rmation for me.” Catherine studied the immaculately dressed man before her. His dark blond hair had grown a little longer since the last time she saw him, which made him look even more handsome. She watched as he crossed the space between them in long lazy strides, his lips curving into a sensuous smile.

“Ah, propriety, propriety.” He lowered his head.

Instinctively, she raised her lips, but he gave her an open mouthed kiss along the side of her throat instead, swirling his tongue languidly on her skin.

Catherine caught her breath and closed her eyes, trying to control the burst of desire that his nearness, his scent, his voluptuous kiss had i
nvoked. “John ... don't . . .” She sighed, as his arms closed about her waist, pressing her body against his.

“Just so you know,” he rasped, biting her earlobe gently. “I always mix business with pleasure—, but I a
lways take pleasure first.”

She gasped, as he swept her into his arms and strode towards the enormous chaise in front of the fir
eplace.

John knew his plans would have to wait the moment he saw Catherine walk through the door into his study. Her beauty never failed to take his breath away, her fragrance inundating his senses, waking him, flooding him with a torrent of aching need. To him, she was a burning beacon, and he, a moth, completely mesmerized by her flame, eager to plunge into the fire of her scorching inferno.

“I want you,” he whispered in a voice as deep as his longing. “And I know you want me too.” he pinned her wrists above her head and looked into her desire-glazed eyes. “Don't deny it.”

Several moments later, Catherine stared at the dan
cing shadows on the ceiling cast by the dwindling light from the fireplace. She felt sated and whole, almost happy, but then . . .

“We can't keep on doing this.” She lifted her head from John's shoulder and turned to look into his expre
ssive eyes.

“It's too late for that.” He coiled his arm tighter around her waist. “My men have already collected your belongings. You're staying with me.”

“No!” Catherine gaped at him, abruptly straightening to sit up, but he held her firmly against him. “You can't do this! You can't keep me here against my will.”

“Oh, but I just did,” he drawled, imprisoning her in a snug embrace. Then, in a more somber tone, “you b
elong with me, Catherine. I love you and this time, I'm not letting you go.”

Catherine gazed into his eyes and saw all the suffe
ring, betrayal, and heartbreak he endured from their separation and her infidelity. But in spite of it all, the ray of his love shone through, lifting the dark clouds of the past, surviving the onslaught, and outlasting everything to emerge like an impregnable fortress in the middle of a roiling catastrophe.

Her eyes misted, speechless at the greatness and faithfulness of the man who held her in his arms. No one—, not even her mother—, loved her as much as he did.

All at once, she was reminded of why she had fallen in love with him. Of why through the years the beloved image of his face was imprinted in her memory. Try as she might to deny it, she had known no other happiness except for the time they'd spent together, cherished moments stored in the treasure-chest she kept in secret, buried within the depths of her heart.

A profound sense of culpability struck her like a jagged knife. She suddenly felt remorseful, chastened, and ashamed of her role that contri
buted to the tragedy of their love. She'd never even had the chance to properly mourn him—, to grieve what they'd lost. Her mother made sure of that. She was immediately whisked away to all the exclusive balls, to be displayed and admired, so the Prince would notice her. And she was a fool for believing in the fantasy that one day she would be Queen.  

The degree of her weakness, infidelity, asininity and vanity, rose i
nto a monstrous beast that devoured what was left of her dignity. “No, John, please don't—,” her voice quavered, as the threat of tears weighed on her lids, “you can't love me still. I've done nothing, but hurt and humiliate you. I may be European, but it is I, who doesn't deserve you. I—, who is not worthy of you. Let me go. Find another.”

He regarded her for a moment with those eloquent eyes, before he reached out to brush the trail of tears from her cheeks. “Look at me Catherine, and tell me that you don't love me.”

She heaved a deep breath and leveled her gaze on him, preparing to inflict the worst injury of all. But as she read the same hope and dreams they once shared written all over his handsome face brimming with the fortitude of his love, her resoluteness departed.

How could she look him in the eye and lie, tell him that she didn’t love him, when after all this time, not one man had truly taken his place in her heart—not even the highest Prince?

She placed a trembling hand on his cheek and with her other hand, caressed his hair with her fingertips, the way she used to do, a long, long time ago.

He turned slightly to touc
h his lips on her palm and smiled at her. Her whole being soared with the certainty of what she needed to say—, what she owed him to hear for the last fifty years.

“Not for a moment, not even for a single breath or heartbeat, did I ever cease loving you.” She pressed her lips between his eyebrows, lingering in that fami
liar manner that she knew had always pleased him. “You have always been the one, my true love, and I've been such a wretched—” She swallowed the fresh sting of tears as guilt gnawed at her once more.

“Ssshh ... darling, don't—,” he lifted her chin and she saw his eyes had glistened, “let's not dwell on the past anymore. It's over and done with. What's important is you're here. Will you stay and marry me?”

She gazed at him lovingly and exclaimed, “Yes!” in elation, throwing her arms around his neck, feeling the burden lift off her shoulders.

He showered her with tiny kisses and they laughed and cried. Finally, he stood up and retrieved something from a hidden compartment in his desk.

“What's that?” Catherine wrapped the chair throw around her and sat up as he walked towards her.

“I never had the chance to give you this.” He pr
oduced the most exquisite diamond ring she had ever seen.

“It's magnificent!” She covered her mouth with her hands.

He grinned and cleared his throat, dropping on one knee.

“A-are you going to do a formal proposal—,” She chuckled.
“Au naturel?” 

“I like originality.” He winked, and then declared his honorable intentions in the strictest protocol, no
twithstanding the fact that he was in his birthday suit.

The Legend of the Pure One

        “Are you all packed and ready to go tomorrow?” Prince William glanced at Elizabeth as they parked in his reserved spot at Darian Hall.

“Pretty much.” She thought of the few things on the bathroom counter that she could easily fit in her lu
ggage before they left. There wasn't much to bring; she only needed enough for a two-week stay. Her mother, on the other hand, was bringing luggage as if she was moving permanently to England. 

“Are you excited?” He opened the door and laced his fingers through hers as she stepped out of the car.