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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Twilight's Dawn (Chapter 147)      Page
  • Twilight's Dawn(Black Jewels,Book 9)(147) by Anne Bishop
  • She should have run to the Keep, should have asked Draca for sanctuary until she’d reached some kind of agreement with Sadi. No chance to do that now.

    “I don’t feel well,” she whispered. “I need to rest.”

    “My offer of marriage stands. Consider it.”

    He reached behind her and turned the door handle. As he pulled the door open, the movement nudged her against him. She turned to avoid feeling him pressed against her belly, but he still held the handle, and his left arm blocked her escape, so she felt the heat of him on her back and bu**ocks. And felt his breath on her cheek as he leaned into her.

    “While you’re considering whether you would enjoy being the wife of the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, also consider if you could tolerate being the wife of the High Lord of Hell.”

    She half turned. “I’m not going to be marrying Uncle—”

    She saw it in his eyes, and now understood why he felt different, felt even more dangerous. The Sadist was now the High Lord.

    May the Darkness have mercy on me.

    “I’d like to go to my room now.”

    “Think about my offer,” he whispered. Then he stepped back and let her go.

    She bolted out of Daemon’s study. Beale was waiting for her in the great hall. At first, she was grateful to hook her arm in his for light support, but by the time they climbed the stairs and were walking toward her suite, she was clinging to him to stay on her feet, and Holt came at a run to support her on the other side. Helene met them at the suite and tucked her on the sofa when she got stubborn about being put to bed. After admitting that she had left the tonic the Healer had made up for her at her house in the village, Jazen dashed to Halaway to retrieve it. She didn’t ask what else Sadi’s valet intended to retrieve while he was there.

    She let them fuss over her because she needed some help. Mostly, she let them fuss as a way to keep all of them from thinking about the cold temper that waited for them behind the study door.

    Daemon stood in his study, staring at nothing.

    The vision he had seen in a tangled web last night: a beautifully wrapped gift being offered to him by someone he trusted. He hadn’t seen the woman, only the hands holding the gift. And today ...

    A child. A baby. His.

    The wanting was suddenly, brutally fierce. He wanted this baby with everything in him and would do whatever it took to keep it. He hoped for her sake that Surreal understood that. He didn’t want to hurt her, but if he had to choose between them, he wouldn’t hesitate to destroy her in order to protect the child.

    There were times when the pain of missing Jaenelle almost crushed him. He wanted her back. Sweet Darkness, how he wanted her back!

    Jaenelle wasn’t coming back, but now there was a chance to give his heart to someone else without betraying the love of his life. He wasn’t sure if the limited affection he could give a woman would be enough to keep a wife content, but he knew he could love the child.

    He hoped for all their sakes that Surreal understood that too.

    Lucivar hovered over the Hall and swore softly. When he received Surreal’s note last night, he’d known something was wrong, but based on her saying, “It’s urgent, but don’t come until tomorrow morning,” he hadn’t expected to arrive and find the Hall locked down as if prepared for an attack. Black shields. Black locks. The only partial access was the double front doors, which had a Red lock—probably because Beale would be the one granting access and could release, and restore, a Red lock.

    He made a fast descent, then backwinged to land lightly on the gravel drive. The door opened before he reached it, and he was right—Beale was guarding the only potential way into the Hall.

    “The Prince is in his study, waiting to speak to you,” Beale said.

    “I’m here to see Surreal,” Lucivar replied.

    “She is resting.”

    “Resting? At this hour? Is she ill?”

    “The Prince will explain.”

    He didn’t like the sound of that. He liked it even less when he walked into Daemon’s study and found his brother standing in the middle of the room, watching him with glazed, sleepy eyes.

    “Is Surreal ill?” Lucivar asked, shoving the door closed.

    “She’s pregnant,” Daemon replied softly.

    He rocked back on his heels. There hadn’t been a man in Surreal’s life in quite some time, so her unexpected pregnancy explained Daemon locking down the Hall against outsiders, and it explained why Surreal was here and not at her own house. It also explained the chill in Daemon’s temper and those glazed eyes.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire