Page 101 of Lucifer's Mirror
“It’s tradition.”
“It’s crazy, that’s what it is! What if they don’t want to be called Brown? What if they don’t want to serve you privileged assholes?”
He winces at that, then shifts his feet and frowns. “They don’t have a choice. If they refuse, they are… eliminated.”
I roll that through my mind. “You mean killed? Executed?”
“It very rarely comes to that.”
I can’t believe what he’s telling me. “That’s horrendous. Barbaric. And you wonder why Khendril left.” He winces again at that, but I go on. “I thought you lot were supposed to be the good guys?”
He shrugs. “Good. Bad. There’s some of both in all of us. We keep the worlds safe.”
“Really. Has it been safe for Winter? Or Brown? Or all those homesteaders Stefan said were killed?”
“Mostly safe then.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through his hair, tugging on the ring in his ear, frustration in every line of his body. “There are many things I don’t agree with, but my father likes to keep the old ways. When you’ve lived that long, individual lives lose their importance. Most are just a brief flicker.”
“And he’s immortal, so he’s not going to die and let you have a go at being king anytime soon. Always a prince and never a king. Must be hard.” His father sounds like a total asshole. Maybe I am better off not knowing about my family, like Zayne always said.
“I don’t want to be king,” Khaosti says. “It’s too much responsibility. But I would like to change some things, and the way guardians are treated is one of them. My brother was a traitor. He betrayed his vows, but I think I understand why now. Unfortunately, as far as the guardians are concerned, my father won’t hear of change. I think he fears their powers, believes they need to be carefully controlled, and any sign of discontent should be ruthlessly dealt with.” Suddenly he looks weary, his shoulders slumping. “The world isn’t always the place we want it to be,” he says. “We all make the best of what we are given.”
I sit up straighter. “If you think there needs to be change, you should fight harder for it.”
“Maybe I will. Maybe I already am.” He studies me closely, his gaze raking over me from top to bottom. I resist the urge to squirm. “Why are you so important? I wish I knew.”
I give an inelegant snort. “You and me both.”
“But this time here has made me see things more clearly,” he says. “I find myself increasingly unwilling to toe the line. I want more. There’s something huge happening in the world right now; legends are coming to life before my very eyes, and the past, as I know it, is being rewritten.” I really want to ask more about this, but if I interrupt now, he may never open up like this again. “Things are shifting,” he continues. “I just don’t know why or how or whether it will be for the better. And for some reason, you are at the center of it all.” He shakes his head. “Khendril asked me to keep you safe. I intend to do that.”
“So I’m just an obligation?” I don’t want to be an obligation to Khaosti. I want to be… The truth is, I don’t know.
It seems he doesn’t know either. He’s studying me, head cocked to one side. “You’re way more than an obligation.” He smirks. “You’re also a pain in the ass.”
“Ha-ha.”
“But one I find myself unable to walk away from.”
Something occurs to me. I know nothing about Khaosti’s past. “Are you married?” I ask. “Or do you have some beautiful princess waiting in the wings to become your bride?”
“No. My father would like me to marry, but so far, I’ve avoided that particular entanglement.”
I try to ignore the relief that floods my mind. It’s none of my business. But I know, deep down, that we’ve moved past that. I don’t entirely understand what this thing is between us, but I know it’s there.
For once, I allow myself to stare at him openly. He’s dazzling. Part of me wishes he were a little more ordinary. But there’s nothing ordinary about Khaosti. All long, lean muscle and leashed power. Sharp cheekbones, full lips, and those stunning golden eyes. The sexy scar. My gaze latches onto the pulse in his throat, then lower to where I can see the pale skin of his chest where his shirt is open. And lower still to the narrow hips, powerful thighs, and everything in between. I swallow.
He makes a noise low in his throat and my gaze flashes to his face.
“Did I not warn you about looking at me like that?” he murmurs.
I remember, though it seems so long ago. He’d called me a little girl. But he was wrong. I’m not sure I was ever a little girl. I don’t know what happened before I woke up three years ago, but I doubt I ever had a childhood like most people. I suspect I’ve been trained to fight from the time I could walk.
“I’m not a child.”
“I’m aware of that. But you’re younger than me. Less experienced. You make me feel old and jaded, but at the same time, hopeful.” Then he raises one elegant shoulder. “You also have a lot going on right now. I don’t want to complicate things more than they already are.”
I push myself to my feet and stand facing him, hands on my hips like I mean business. “Maybe I want you to complicate things. Maybe I like complicated.”
His nostrils flare, and he takes a step toward me. “You make everything so hard.”
