The Priestess and the Thief - Page 78

“And how do you expect to do that?” he demanded, glaring at her. “Do you have a ship standing by, waiting to take you?”

“Well…no,” Elli had to admit. “But I’m sure I can find a way.”

“At least let me take you there,” Roke said and for a moment his scowl slipped, to be replaced by a look of desperate unhappiness and regret. “Allow me to see you safely home—let me do that much for you, little priestess.”

Elli swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to keep her voice calm.

“Thank you. I accept your offer.”

“Good. Ellilah—” Roke reached for her but she stepped away quickly.

“And now I really have to go—you know I can’t keep the Prince waiting. I…I’ll see you here, after the parade,” she told him.

Then she left, before he could see the tears stinging her eyes overflow down her cheeks.

Forty-Three

“Damn it all to the Seven Hells!” Roke swore as he watched her go. How had everything gotten so fucked up in just a few short hours?

He had no idea, but he wished he could go back in time to just before the Supper last night and make some excuse to keep from doing what he had done to Ellilah. Taking her virginity had been wrong, even though at the time it had seemed like the only choice.

You used her, a savage little voice in his head accused. Used her with no intention of bonding her to you. What kind of life will she have now? Can she even be a priestess now that her vows have been broken so irrevocably? Have you condemned her to a life of punishment and exile?

Roke had no answers—only guilt.

Should have bonded her to you when you had the chance, whispered that same little voice. Now it’s too late—you’ve lost her forever.

But he didn’t want to bond with Ellilah or anyone—did he? He was a Havoc, damn it! Well, half Havoc, but that was enough.

Closing his eyes, Roke remembered his Sire’s unending grief after the death of his mother. He had been a shell of a male—hollowed out by the emotional agony of losing the one who mattered most to him in the world.

The minute Roke was out of the house and safely on his own, his Sire had taken his own life. It was as though he had lived just long enough to raise his son and then given in to the grief that had been bearing down on him for years.

They said he must have killed himself within the hour after I left, Roke thought, remembering his first and last vid-call home, when he had learned of his father’s suicide. He did his duty by me and then went to meet my mother the moment I stepped out the door. He simply couldn’t live without her anymore.

Was that what he wanted, Roke asked himself? That constant vulnerability to endless, heartbreaking, debilitating grief? Because that was what he would be letting himself in for if he bonded the little priestess to him. He would live with her, happy in the euphoria of her love, but always in the back of his mind would be the knowledge that if something happened to her he would be driven mad with the agony of loss…

It’s better to let her go—safer, he argued with himself. And she doesn’t want to bond with you anyway. She’s a priestess—she has another life aboard the Mother Ship.

A life he might have ruined for her forever.

And then the guilt came back and he was right back where he had started, having come full circle. It was maddening.

I’m a fool, Roke told himself. An indecisive idiot.

Forget going back in time to stop the events of the night before—he wished he could go all the way back to the human’s Christmas party aboard the Mother Ship and stop himself from drugging the punch. Maybe even stop himself from meeting Ellilah in the first place!

If only it was possible to do that—to go back and stop himself from meeting her—to stop himself from falling in love.

But it was too late for that, Roke admitted to himself. Too late to do anything but call himself a fool and try to live with the consequences of his actions.

Forty-Four

The parade was long and tiresome, winding as it did through all the long cobblestone streets of Capital City. Elli was glad she’d decided to wear her riding boots under her long red dress. If she’d worn the thin satin slippers that went with it, her feet would have been horribly sore long before the splendid spectacle was over.

At least Demon was behaving himself beautifully. Elli had explained to him before the parade what was expected of him and though he didn’t like carrying the Crown Prince, he was docile and quiet because she was at his head, leading him through the cheering crowds.

Tags: Evangeline Anderson Fantasy
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