Blood Awakening (7 page)

As they began to walk away, Kristina looked over
her shoulder at Marquis, her deep blue eyes wide with shock. When their gazes finally
met, a deep sorrow passed between them.

Marquis quickly looked away. This was all wrong.
This
was all so absolutely, positively...inexcusably...wrong!

After all this time—serving his people honorably,
living for his brothers, enduring century after century alone; after watching
his beloved mother, Serena, die; his best friend and father, Keitaro, disappear;
and the joy of his heart—his youngest brother, Shelby—slain by the Blood Curse;
this was simply...

Wrong
.

And it was cruel.

In his mind’s eye, he saw the princess in her
beautiful summer dress. He heard her infectious laughter and remembered the
tantalizing sway of her hips—the way that she looked at him with so much love
in her eyes—and his heart wept at the enormity of what the gods had just done. Why
now? Why to him?

Marquis watched as Kagen and Kristina made their
way up the path toward the clinic, and he couldn’t help but think…for just one
day...

Out of hundreds of thousands...

He had actually been—happy.

Ciopori spun around on the back terrace of
Napolean’s majestic home, marveling at the beauty of the sky. As one of the original
Celestial Beings, observing such an event was the equivalent of witnessing a
miracle, a rare blessing bestowed upon them by the divine god, Draco, and her
emotions varied from reverence to awe...to disbelief. Despite their ultimate
extermination, the females of her race had once been very powerful, indeed. Powerful
enough to fashion a curse that was still carried out by the gods twenty-eight
hundred years later.

A soft breeze blew through her hair, rustling a
wall of towering aspens that flanked the back porch, and Ciopori closed her
eyes, taking in the magic of the moment. Her last memories, before Marquis had
found her, had been of a dark ship taking port in a strange land, her brothers being
left behind in the Old World, her culture being decimated...her life forever
changed. When Fabian placed the two remaining females under the spell, Ciopori knew
she would awaken to a completely different life, but in her wildest dreams, she
could have never imagined this. She could never have imagined Marquis.

The warrior from her dreams had been real all
along. And he had found her.

Ciopori felt a chill shoot up her spine, even as goose
bumps appeared on her arms. Marquis was such a proud and sure warrior, a leader
by both nature and birth, as passionate as he was intense...the celestial epitome
of a wild animal. Yet there was a rare, indefinable beauty beneath his harsh
exterior, a spiritual quality that hinted of something much deeper. He had a
soul that had been honed through fire, a wisdom that had been refined through experience,
a strength that was deeply anchored in primordial law, and yes, a love for his
brothers that surpassed all else. A love that now included her.

Ciopori smiled, lost in her daydream, swimming in
the memory of Marquis’s impossibly beautiful blue-black eyes...and that gorgeous,
thick raven hair. She could still hear the velvet tenor of his voice as it
played again and again in her mind, a haunting melody, pure and hypnotic. When
she concentrated, she could still see the hard cut of his jaw, the sculpted
perfection of his lips, the perfect angles of his face, and the rock-hard lines
of his body—a body that appeared to have been chiseled out of granite by the
hands of a master artisan. Truly, her sisters had created a magnificent,
unparalleled species…even as they had sought to curse them.

Ciopori laughed aloud then, as she also remembered
the warrior’s complete lack of social grace, and his cerebral analysis of simple
wit: The male didn’t have a clue when it came to humor or subtle nuances; yet oddly
enough, Ciopori found those traits adorable. In fact, they were the qualities she
admired most because they softened what might otherwise be a far too
overwhelming male.

She regarded the sky once more. What an amazing
night. She had found the mate of her soul, the man of her dreams. And now,
another warrior in the house of Jadon—her beloved brother’s direct line of ancestry—was
being given the same chance to find eternal love. She was so caught up in her
musing that she didn’t realize Napolean Mondragon had joined her on the veranda
until he spoke.

“Greetings, Princess.” Napolean remained formal,
as usual, speaking to her in the Old Language. “It is an incredible sight to
behold, is it not?”

Ciopori turned toward the monarch and bowed her
head ever so slightly. “Milord.” She turned back to the sky. “Indeed, it is
magnificent. I don’t believe I have ever seen anything more spectacular in all
of my life.”

Napolean smiled, his shimmering silver irises
casting light like crystals against the moon; his gorgeous, waist length hair
swaying with his regal movements. “I’ve seen the Blood Moon sky a thousand times
over my long life, yet every time it appears, it is as if I am viewing it for
the first time. I am pleased that you are able to see it.”

Ciopori gave him a curious glance. “Why wouldn’t
I?”

Napolean shrugged his broad shoulders. “The Blood
Moon is an omen—a sign which only appears to the male descendants of both Jadon
and Jaegar—”

“My brothers,” Ciopori clarified.

“A sign which only appears to the male descendants
of
your brothers
,” Napolean corrected, still clearly in awe of her
lineage. “Yet, it was a
mercy
given to the descendants of Jadon, alone,
following the Curse. And for that reason, humans have never been able to observe
the phenomenon: The sky looks perfectly normal to them right now. The moon looks
the same as always.”

He came to stand beside her and paused, as if
searching for the right words. “As you are not...a product of the Curse...I wasn’t
sure if you would be able to behold it or not.”

Ciopori sighed and gazed toward the forest, both
of them now leaning against the banister. “I can see your point, milord. However,
I am a Celestial Being of pure blood, one of the remaining descendants of the
goddess Cygnus and her human mate, Mateo; so of course I can view the Omen: All
that occurs in the heavens occurs in my ancestral home.”

Napolean looked at her wistfully—clearly studying
her face. “You know, I remember you, Princess Ciopori…from before.”

“Pardon me?” She looked surprised.

Napolean’s smile was exquisite. “I remember you
from Romania.”

Ciopori turned to face him then, her hands clasped
together in front of her. “I’m afraid I don’t share this memory, Sir Mondragon;
please, elaborate.”

Napolean laughed, his voice a rich baritone. “You
wouldn’t, Princess—being that I was only ten-years old when the Blood Curse
occurred.” He sighed. “I saw you only once. It was right before...the
sacrifices began...when our world was still a fair and just place to be...

“It was after a particularly successful harvest—at
one of the honoring ceremonies: You were there with your father, the king, although
I don’t recall seeing your sister or your mother. But you—you were standing
behind your father on the platform, wearing one of the most exquisite gowns I
had ever seen. Well, for a five-year-old.” He chuckled lightly. “It was
lavender—like the lilies of the field—and I remember staring at all that silk as
it swayed in the wind. The sun cast a shadow beneath you, causing the effect of
a halo above you. I was but a child then, and I believed our king to be a god. Gazing
at you on that platform, I was certain you were a goddess as well.”

Ciopori laughed. “Well, that is quite a compliment
coming from one who grew up to be such a powerful leader himself. I’m sure many
of the children here think the same of you now.” After a moment of silence, she
ventured, “If you don’t mind me asking: What house are you from? I mean your
lineage
before the Curse
.”

Napolean looked off into the distance. He raised
his eyebrows and sighed as if he rarely thought of such things anymore. “I am
the only one of my family that has survived—the last remaining pure-blood
Celestial Being of our people.” He glanced at her and smiled. “At least until
now.”

Ciopori nodded.

“My direct descendants were begotten of the
goddess Andromeda and her human mate, Demetrius Mondragon.”

Ciopori caught her breath. “You come from a very
powerful house of magic, milord: I did not realize...”

“That’s quite all right,” Napolean replied.” There
is little time for practicing enchantment anymore, ruling the house of—leading
your brother’s house is a full-time job.”

Ciopori crossed her arms in front of her. “Then I must
say, as difficult as all of this is, I am glad we are here with you, Lord Mondragon
of the house of Andromeda. It is not a good feeling to be all alone.”

Napolean declined his head but didn’t answer.

“Speaking of which”—Ciopori gestured toward the
sky—“I am quite curious about the male who is being honored tonight by the gods.
Who does our Lord Draco smile upon? Do you already know his mate?”

Napolean cleared his throat, and then his face
became a blank slate, completely devoid of emotion. “Ciopori...how shall I say
this?” He turned around to face her. “The duty of my kingship is this: I see
everything that happens in the house of Jadon, both good and bad. I know the
thoughts, intentions, and fears of all the males, and all of the choices they
make the moment they make them, but I am not permitted by the gods to act
upon—or even reveal—such information. To interfere in the lives of my subjects
would be to...
tamper with the future…
or alter the hands of fate. To
change destiny or obstruct free will.

“Not to mention, it would be a severe violation of
the privacy of our males—certainly unworthy of the respect each one has earned.
Verily, I may act only upon a direct request, a matter of law and order, in the
interest of our survival, or the earth’s protection...but my reach ends there.”

Ciopori declined her head in deference; perhaps
she had violated some sort of tenet. “Forgive me, milord: Was I wrong to
inquire about this matter?”

Napolean smiled and shook his head. “No, Princess—not
at all. A male’s constellation is common knowledge in the house of Jadon;
however, the identity of his mate is not. Therefore, I can answer your first
question but not your last.” He drew in a deep breath. “It is the warrior
Marquis whose constellation illuminates our sky this night. He is the chosen
one of Draco.”

Ciopori hesitated. “You don’t mean Marquis
Silivasi
?”
As if she knew more than one vampire named Marquis.

Napolean nodded, his face serene. “Yes, the Ancient
Master Warrior, Marquis Silivasi.”

Ciopori caught at the rail, her knees buckling
beneath her. She froze as she turned away from Napolean, dumbfounded. He had
repeated the name twice, yet she still could not believe she’d heard him
correctly. “You mean...the male who was here earlier today…Nachari’s brother…
that
Marquis Silivasi
?”

Napolean’s calm demeanor appeared deliberate. “Yes,
the constellation is his.”

Ciopori’s hand flew to her mouth in a desperate
attempt to restrain from asking a third time. It took every ounce of composure
she had to stand on the deck and look at the king…as if the entire world had
not just collapsed around her. “If you would be so kind, I would require a
moment alone.” Her voice sounded hollow and far away, as if the words were
coming from someone else’s mouth.

Napolean bowed ever so slightly, his expression
betraying nothing. “Of course.”

Ciopori held up her hand. “I would, however, like
to have a word with the wizard, Nachari, if you wouldn’t mind. Please send him
out as soon as possible.” She swallowed a lump in her throat and fought to keep
from trembling.

Napolean placed a comforting hand on the small of
her back but refrained from speaking. And Ciopori knew it was just as he had
said: The sovereign leader of the house of Jadon already knew everything, and
he would ask no further questions because providence had to play itself
out—good, bad, or indifferent. The wizened king was faultlessly neutral, an
observer at best.

“I will go fetch Nachari now,” he said in a soothing
tone of voice.

Ciopori waited restlessly, pacing back and forth
across the veranda. Although it had been less than five minutes since she had
asked to see Nachari, it felt like an eternity. Finally, the wizard appeared,
and like a swan gliding across a lake, his proud gait carried him effortlessly
to her side.

“You asked for me?” His voice was deep with
concern.

Ciopori tried to hold his gaze, but her own eyes glazed
over with tears, and she had to turn away. It was written all over his
face—Nachari knew everything—but then, of course he would: Marquis was his
brother, after all, and he had seen the two of them together. Ciopori searched
for words but found none.

“I am so sorry,” he finally whispered, “not just
for you—but for my brother as well.”

Ciopori drew in a deep breath and forced herself
to face him. “Then you know who the...female...is then?” She nearly choked over
the words.

Nachari nodded, the soft lines of his face
hardening. “Yes, when I reached out to my brother just moments ago, I felt her
energy in the air around him. As she is someone well known to our family, I
recognized her right away.”

Ciopori began to cry, and she brought her hands up
to cover her face, ashamed.

“Please do not be embarrassed.” Nachari sighed. “Whatever
you are feeling, I’m sure my brother is as well…”

Ciopori wiped her eyes. “Nachari, does he have
to—”

“He does, Ciopori.”

She sniffled and tried to regain her composure. “But
why? Why can’t it be changed? Has anyone ever tried?” She knew she sounded
desperate, but she no longer cared. “Surely, I am not bound by this curse. There
must be some kind of exception, some way for Napolean to intercede with the
gods. He is from the house of Andromeda; if anyone can do it, he can.”

Nachari looked out toward the forest, carefully considering
his next words. “Honestly, Ciopori...I wish it were so.” He shook his head and
ran his hand through his silky mane of dark hair. “It is true that there are a
lot of
unknowns
in this situation, but, Princess, the Blood Curse—that just
isn’t one of them. Nor is the sacrifice my brother
must
make at the end
of the Blood Moon.” He paused then and took a deep breath before going on. “Kristina
Riley—the
destiny
the gods have chosen for him—is the only female who
can give him what he
must
have right now.”

Ciopori felt his words like a knife slicing through
her gut. Although she knew he meant no offense, no words had ever wounded her more
deeply. Unwilling to give up so easily, she gathered her courage once again and
defiantly squared her shoulders to the handsome wizard. “Forgive my insistence,
Nachari, but you simply do not know that. From what Marquis had already told
me, there is only one woman who can bear your children...without suffering a horrible
fate...and that is your chosen
destiny
. But there are things you don’t
know, reasons why Marquis and I believe we are meant to be together...”