I still own nothing! This all belongs to Kresley Cole!
Stanton and the blonde sorceri male (name forthcoming) are my own creations.
SPOILER ALERT! If you have not read Pleasures of a Dark Prince, DO NOT read this chapter! The entire cave scene is taken entirely (although not word for word) from the climax of that book!
Thank you for reading and please R&R!
Gareth couldn't bite back the growl that escaped his lips. He could smell his female. Again. Although his rational mind knew that there was a sorceri nearby capable of creating illusions specifically designed to madden him, he could not help his visceral reaction to the idea of Lucia in danger.
This must be another ruse meant to exploit my one weakness: Lucia. They had already used such trickery to their advantage in order to capture him in the first place.
He, Bowen, and Uilliem had been out for a hard night of drinking in the Quarter. They had been stumbling home when they were suddenly surrounded by attacking Horde vampires. Despite their enemies' ability to trace, the Lykae were hardly outmatched given their incredible strength. Gareth had managed to decapitate two of them when he heard Lucia's scream echoing down a side alley.
Battle-maddened and roaring in fury, Gareth had split off from his friends to pursue his mate. When he reached the mouth of the alley, he picked up Lucia's unique scent tinged with a coppery aftertaste. Blood.
Although he could not see his mate, Gareth gave himself over to the beast inside of him and charged down the alleyway. At the end of it, he found nothing but a silver dart which pricked his neck and took him down within seconds. Lucia had never been there at all. Gods, how he hated sorcery!
When he had awoken, he was in this dimly lit cell. The entire room seemed to be built of concrete save for one wall which appeared to be a mirror. Gareth could have easily shattered either material and escaped if it weren't for the fact that he was trapped in a six-foot square ruddy tiny iron cage in the center of the room. He had tried and tried to pry apart the bars, searching for weaknesses in his confines, but they had clearly been reinforced with spells so that they could withstand even his immense strength.
It didn't take him long to piece together why he was being held there. His captors were rather chatty on the subject. The gloating assholes.
He knew that he was being imprisoned by some sort of mortal organization bent on eradicating the immortals from the earth. He had been informed of this by an oily, grinning mortal named Stanton who was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in glee over his capture.
While the mortals would stand no chance against the Loreans on their own, they had unfortunately found all too willing allies in some of the more sadistic immortals. Gareth knew that they at least had socerii and Horde vampires among their ranks. He was sure that these allies would become enemies as soon as their common goals had been accomplished, but he could only assume that each faction was confident that they would come out the victor in the long run. Why else take such a risk?
At first, Gareth had been puzzled as to why they did not kill him straightaway. He assumed that they had captured him because he was the Lykae prince, and disposing of him would weaken his brother's crown.
But he was not to be so fortunate. Apparently, he was the first Lykae this organization was able to capture, and they were very keen to figure out what the greatest weaknesses were in the species. They wished to experiment on Gareth in order to devise ways to more successfully eradicate the Lykae.
After his initial fury at himself for being captured had faded, Gareth became determined not to show signs of weakness. He would not assist them in destroying his people. He was their prince; it was his duty to protect them.
The first few days had been rather predictable. Well, physical torture was a bit out of the ordinary in Gareth's day-to-day schedule, but it wasn't something he hadn't faced before. When they had burned the skin from his body, it had been painful, but he did not cry out.
Because Gareth knew true pain, and it did not come from any physical wound. He still had difficulty recalling the dark time when he thought he had killed Lucia when under Cruach's sick spell. The perceived loss was agonizing. It was a miracle she had been able to bring him back from the brink before he destroyed himself just to end the pain.
It was on the fourth day that Gareth had met one of the more disturbing immortals who allied himself with this organization. The blonde male sorceri was comely enough, but his flat, black eyes revealed his true nature: cold, unmerciful. The sick fuck clearly lived to cause pain.
As soon as Gareth met those obsidian eyes with his own, he found he could not look away. He felt as if someone was combing through his mind, rummaging about in his memories. The sensation was disconcerting and not at all comfortable, but it did not cause Gareth any real pain.
But then he felt a tugging sensation in his mind, as though a thread were pulling a memory forward into the forefront of his consciousness. And then it became real all over again.
Gareth was back in Cruach's cave, his mind no longer his own. He saw himself shackle Lucia to a stone altar as she beseeched him to kill her, to end her pain. He was filled with such love. He had to do it; he had to make her happy.
He swung the sword downward in a powerful arc, cleanly separating her head from her shoulders. And, in an instant, she was gone. Gareth looked in horror at what he had done.
He had killed her. He had murdered Lucia, his mate. She had warned him that he would turn against her if he did not leave. Why had he not listened? She was dead! Dead by his own hand!
He clutched the lifeless shell that had once been Lucia to him, rocking back and forth over her on the cave floor. His mind could not handle this. Could not comprehend. His thoughts became more disjointed, petering out into a mental silence until suddenly only one thought filled his mind.
Lucia is gone.
Gareth roared in anguish and his beast burst forth from him. He ran from the cave and what he had done, roaming the woods like a rabid animal, searching for some way to destroy himself.
Standing in the cell before the sorceri male, Gareth roared out his agony as his beast flickered over him. He clawed at his chest, attempting to tear out his twisting heart. He was fully immersed in his most painful memory, and the enchanter was drinking it in.
But the beast in him slowly recognized the ruse. That wild part of Gareth remembered that Lucia was alive. Just as the beast in him had stopped Gareth from murdering Lucia on that day, it now saved him from himself.
The Instinct whispered at Gareth, calling him back to reality. This is a lie. Lucia is alive.
Gareth took deep breaths and closed his eyes, reigning in the beast and returning to his normal form. He forced himself away from the memories of the cave, looking to the more recent past and the life that he and Lucia had built together.
She is alive.
Gareth opened his eyes and glared challengingly at the blonde sorceri. His cold black eyes were momentarily filled with shock, which was rapidly replaced by anger, which in turn just as quickly gave way to a calculating stare.
After a moment of silence, the male turned on his heel and left the room without uttering a word. Despite the seeming reprieve, Gareth knew nothing good could come of this.