Page 42 of Bloody Kingdom

“Even if I wanted it, she could never be my forever.” She will eventually grow old, and I’ll remain the same. I’ll have to watch yet another woman in my life die. “You know this.”

Duke shrugs apathetically. “A rule that only exists because of you.”

“It’s in place for a reason,” I snap irritably at him. “Or should I remind you of what happens when it’s not strictly enforced?” Duke and his family know firsthand the devastating events that occur when the rule is broken.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple moving in his neck. “No, I’m more than aware of what could happen, but Silas, it’s not a guaranteed outcome.”

“It’s not worth the risk.”

Duke is silent for a moment before he softly says, “The best things in life are worth every risk, even if they scare the shit out of you.”

In the pitchblack of the bedroom in my condo, I watch the screen in front of me. The video feed is from today from the exterior cameras placed on the house.

I could have been there today. Della offered to wait till after sundown to have the reveal for Ira, but I repeatedly turned her down. Now I’m not sure I should have.

I haven’t experienced the emotion of regret for a long time but having to watch the way Quincey’s face lights up as she shows Ira his gift through the screen in front of me instead of in person fills me with remorse. I gave up the opportunity to revel in that smile, to feel the warmth on my skin as it radiated off of her.

Two weeks apart from her should have been easier than it’s been. Instead of focusing on the work I have before me, I find myself thinking of her. The threat that is somehow evading me and my team should be my main focus—my priority—but she’s taking up my every thought.

It’s been two weeks since our kiss, and yet, her sweet taste still remains on my tongue. No matter how many times I’ve showered, her scent lingers on my body. My sleep is fitful. I wake up frequently because I swear I hear her whispering my name softly in my ear.

The dreams of her lying limply on my bed, blood pouring from her delicate neck haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve only become more vivid and intense since I tasted her blood in real life. Part of me believes that they are no longer dreams, but instead premonitions of what will happen if I don’t keep my distance.

The distance isn’t supposed to be painful, and yet I ache for her.

I should be sleeping right now. The sun has long ago risen, but I can’t turn my attention away from the video feed. After watching the feed from yesterday when they showed Ira his new roses, I pull up the live feed because it appears I’ve become a glutton for punishment when it comes to her.

Ira sits in his wheelchair in the courtyard. His eyes are closed, but his lips turn up as he listens to Quincey. On a plaid blanket on the ground, in a white sundress, Quincey reads to Ira from the book in her lap.

The morning sun shines down on them, her long golden hair all but glows around her shoulders and back. Ira mumbles something that makes her face split in two, her white teeth shine as she laughs at him.

The sense of longing hits me like a train. Even if I were to give in to temptation, we will never be able to sit in the sun, enjoying the warmth of it on our skin together. Our time together will be limited to the night—to darkness. That isn’t fair to her.

It’s something I can’t take from her. This is a life, if given the choice, I never would have made for myself.

I miss the sun.

Quincey is my own personal sun now. Her warmth and heat burn me to my soul, but the pain is welcome. I can only hope I don’t become the reason she loses her light.

“I’m not following,” I repeat as Della rambles instructions to me over the phone. She’s barely taken a breath since I answered her call, and the longer she talks the more confused I get. “Just back up a second. Where have you been all day? Are you coming in at all today?”

I elect to ignore her aggravated sigh. “No, I will be, but I had a personal thing to take care of and won’t be there until later,” Della explains, sounding flustered, an odd tone for her. She’s usually calm—totally in control. I’m not sure why she’s so bent out of shape about not being here today.

“Okay…” I drawl in the phone that is tucked between my ear and shoulder as I clean up the used medical supplies on my tray. “You’re very important and a lovely person to be around Della but I think Ira and I have managed to feed and clean up after ourselves just fine.” Ira nods in agreement when I glance up at him. We’ve spent the past two days out in the courtyard, enjoying the sun and roses. Today he’s beat after exerting the extra energy, knowing this, he’ll end up sleeping on and off most of the day.

“Contrary to popular belief, my job isn’t always just cooking and cleaning, Quincey,” she huffs. “I run different errands for Silas and today I was supposed to go pick something up for him, but it would appear I will not be able to make it in time to do so today. I had a…familyemergency.”

“So? Can’t you just go tomorrow?”

“No, this is a…delicate… matter and fairly time-sensitive. It has to be done today and at the time originally agreed upon,” she insists.

“Once again, I’m not following. Why are you telling me this? This sounds like something you need to work out with Silas.” With one last look at Ira, I quietly leave his room to continue this conversation in the hall.

“No, that’s the thing, I don’t want Silas to find out about this little mix-up.” There’s a long pause before she continues, sounding completely put out by what she says, “I’m asking for a favor here, Quincey. I wouldn’t ask this of you unless I really needed help, but I’m in a bind right now.”

I never thought I’d see the day that Della wanted my help. She won’t even let me help chop vegetables in the kitchen because she’s such a control freak. Whatever this errand is, it’s a big deal.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to help you from the house, Della.” I pace up and down the hallway as I listen.

---