After Rose left his room, he sat in silence for a while, finally forcing himself out the door and across the campus to the building that housed Belikov's room. He spent several hours packing and labeling boxes, stopping from time to time to take a drink from the bottle he'd smuggled over in the deep inner pocket of his pea coat.
The task did not get any easier. He'd found dozens of half written love notes to Rose, hidden in a shoe box underneath the Russian's bed. Each one apologizing for his actions, detailing the regret the man had felt over their impossible situation. Each one declaring his undying love, and his dreams of a future where they were free of their duties. After the first seven letters, Adrian crammed the lid back on the box, sealing away the heart wrenching missives under a layer of packing tape. Shoving the box aside, he examined the room. It was almost done—a few more hours of hard work and he'd be able to arrange for the boxes to be shipped on to their new home at Court.
Wandering into the small bathroom, he picked up the small glass bottle of aftershave sitting beside the sink. Smiling, he remembered the way Rose always buried her nose in Belikov's coat, enamored by the way he smelled. He slipped the bottle into his pocket—when she returned, maybe he'd wear it for her.
He finished with the bathroom quickly—there wasn't much to be packed, Belikov had apparently thought taking care of one's appearance was a waste of time—returning to the bedroom and sinking down on the bed with a sigh. He was too tired to make his way back to the guest quarters. Curling up on the mattress, he ignored the fact the bed had already been stripped, the pillows and blankets packed away only a few hours before. Resting his head on his arm, he drifted off to sleep, imagining Rose waiting for him—a bottle of coconut scented tanning lotion in hand, wanting his help applying it to her curvaceous body.
The white sand beach stretched into the horizon, deserted except for an over sized blue towel with the stunning dhampir girl sprawled out on top of it. Smiling up at him in what could only be described as a suggestive manner, Rose held out the bottle.
"Do my back?"
He complied immediately, massaging the sweet smelling oil into her tanned skin, savoring the feeling of her silky skin beneath his fingers. She let out a tiny moan of pleasure, the sound going straight to his groin and arousing him instantly.
"Untie the straps, please. I don't want tan lines."
He tugged at the one behind her neck and it slid undone easily. The thin string that crossed her back, however, decided to make his life difficult. Cursing the knot, he struggled to unfasten it. He was so intent on undoing the tangle that he failed to notice the sky darkening above them. As the strap fell away and he ran his hands across the now naked skin of her back, a low, furious snarling sound reached his ears. Less than a second later, he was air born, landing in a painful heap several feet away.
"Did you think I was joking with you?" Belikov stalked towards him, fangs bared. "She is mine, Ivashkov. MINE."
Adrian backed away on his hands and knees, wondering for a moment why Rose was just lying there, unresponsive. Surely, she should be jumping with joy at the sound of her lover's voice, or at least looking up at him. Belikov followed his eyes, his lips twisting up in an evil grin as he turned towards the seemingly unconscious girl behind him.
"NO!" Adrian forced himself to his feet, hurling himself at the taller man. "You won't hurt her!
"I would never hurt my Roza. Besides, I think you'll find I can and will do whatever I want, Adrian, this is my vision, not yours."
Adrian froze, unable to move a muscle. He stared in horror as the Russian kneeled over Roses body, threading his long fingers through her thick, dark hair. Concentrating, he willed himself to move, struggling against whatever invisible power held him suspended in mid-air. It was a futile effort.
"Roza. How I've missed you, my love." Belikov crooned as he tugged at her hair, arching her head back and exposing the tanned, smooth column of her throat. Casting one last superior smirk in Adrian's direction, his fangs buried themselves in her neck, earning a moan of pleasure from Rose in response.
Screaming, Adrian sat up, head swiveling as he took in his surroundings. "Just a fucking dream. She's okay." His heart was racing so fast he thought for a moment he might be going into cardiac arrest. He had to stop her—she had to stay here with him, where she'd be safe. Bolting out the door, he raced down the stairs, jogging across campus. He reached Rose's dorm room in record time, pounding on the door. It opened almost immediately, revealing Christian Ozera.
"Where's Rose?" He wheezed out, trying to catch his breath.
Ozera stepped back, revealing Lissa, curled up on Rose's bed, clutching the pillow to her chest as she sobbed uncontrollably. His voice was husky when he answered. "She left this morning."
Too late—once again he was too late. He'd slept the day away, trapped in another goddamned nightmare. Sliding down the wall, his head fell into his hands. He heard the door close, and a moment later the quiet creak of bed springs as Christian joined Lissa on the bed.
"She… she hates me," Lissa choked out. "The things she said…"
"Whatever she said… you know she didn't mean it, Liss. She loves you." Christian crooned, trying to calm her down.
"No.. you don't understand. I tried to make her stay—I tried to use compulsion on her."
His head shot up, his dark green eyes locking with Christian's icy blue ones. Rose would forgive a lot of things, but that… "What happened, Lissa? Start at the beginning."
"I can't… I don't want to remember. It hurts too much." Her body was shaking from the force of her sobs. "She's my bond mate! How could she do this to me?"
Adrian stared at Christian, trying to put his thoughts into words. "Can I.. help her?"
Ozera looked at his hysterical girlfriend, weighing the man's words. "Only if you promise not to try anything… funny."
Nodding, Adrian crawled over to the bed, running his hand through Lissa's silky, fair hair. "Vasilisa—look at me."
Her tear filled eyes unsuspectingly jerked up to his face, and slowly her sobs drew to a halt as she fell into his compulsion. He pulled on spirit, channeling it into her body then pulling it back, just like he'd done with Belikov that day in his room. "Show me what happened Lissa. Think about what happened with Rose."
Her eyes fell closed and a moment later the images rolled through his mind. He was in Lissa's body, standing within view of the gates, shadowed by the trees that surrounded them. Rose stood before her, the expression on her face one of sorrow. They appeared to be in the middle of a discussion—one that could become a heated argument far too easily.
"I understand that you're trying to cope and that this is as good a way as any. You need to find another way to let him go." Lissa said.
Rose shook her head. "I have to do this."
"Even if it means leaving me?"
"I have to do this," she repeated, her eyes sad. "I'm sorry."
"You're supposed to be my guardian and go with me to college," Lissa argued. "You're shadow-kissed. We're supposed to be together. If you leave me …"
"If I leave you, they'll get you another guardian. Two of them. You're the last Dragomir. They'll keep you safe."
"But they won't be you, Rose," she argued, pulling on spirit and forcing it into the dhampires mind. She focused on her will—her desire—Rose had to stay here, no matter what. She belonged here, with Lissa. She was Lissa's—she always had been and always would be. She couldn't leave.
"Stop it!" Rose yelled, turning away. Do not use compulsion on me. You're my friend. Friends don't use their powers on each other."
"Friends don't abandon each other," Lissa snapped back. "If you were my friend, you wouldn't do it."
Rose spun back around, glaring at her. There were sparkling flashes snapping from her aura like jagged streaks of black lightening. She shouted in Lissa's face, enraged. "It's not about you, okay? This time, it's about me. Not you. All my life, Lissa … all my life, it's been the same. They come first. I've lived my life for you. I've trained to be your shadow, but you know what? I want to come first. I need to take care of myself for once. I'm tired of looking out for everyone else and having to put aside what I want. Dimitri and I did that, and look what happened. He's gone. I will never hold him again—"
The vision faded before it played to completion as Lissa overrode his compulsion, her hand cracking out across his face. "Don't ever do that to me again," she hissed, her eyes filled with dark fury.
His eyes shot to her aura. Not surprisingly, it was encircled with a thin line of darkness. As he watched it slowly drained away, taking her rage along with it. He smirked, shaking his head. "She must not hate you too much, Cousin. She just pulled the darkness away from you."
Getting to his feet, he left the room without another word. The angry words Rose had hurled at Lissa wounded him deeply. It was one thing to know she still loved the other man, another thing entirely to see it reflected in her eyes and to hear it echoing in her voice as she spoke of never holding Belikov in her arms again. He had the horrible feeling that when Rose returned and he got his chance with her, he still wouldn't be able to win her heart. The thought of her imagining Belikov every time he embraced her was excruciatingly painful. Sadder still, he knew he would accept it, just for the chance to hold her in his arms.
He overslept again the next day—the nightmares were seriously wreaking havoc on his sleep, not to mention on his already fragile mental state. By the time he got to the commons, dinner was almost over. Approaching the table where they all usually gathered, he was dismayed to find Lissa pointedly ignoring him. Christian, not wanting to incur her wrath, shot him an apologetic look before proceeding to do the same thing. It hurt his feelings—he had only been trying to help Lissa overcome her debilitating sadness. How could he erase her pain if he didn't know the exact cause? He shoved his emotions to the side and left without uttering a word in his defense, deciding he was better off alone, for the time being.
Finishing up the job in Belikov's room, he arranged for the boxes to be transported to the holding facility his aunt had set aside for his personal use. When Rose came back, he'd turn the key to the room over to her, and she could do whatever she wanted with the things. He half hoped she would simply dispose of everything without a second thought, because that, in his opinion, would be proof that she had finally moved on.
He wandered around the campus, occasionally stopping to take a swig from the almost empty bottle he held at his side. He missed her already, and she'd only been gone a day. How the hell was he going to amuse himself until she decided to come back? He tilted his head back to study the stars overhead. The sky was darkening the way it always did just before it gave way to a new dawn, a warning that sunrise was swiftly approaching.
He didn't want to return to his room—right now, it haunted him, reminding him it was the last place he'd seen Rose. Moving further back into the trees, he found a secluded area that would remain hidden in shadows once the sun reached its peak. Settling himself in the hollow of tree, he finished off his bottle, tucking it back into his pocket. He could feel the comforting weight of his flask, but opted not to drink it—yet. He didn't want to be too inebriated to pull on his element. As his eyes slipped closed, he sent his consciousness out, reaching for his Rosebud, hoping he would find her safe and sound.
It was incredibly easy this time, happening almost immediately. Adrian didn't enter the dream—he simply watched over her, exerting the slightest bit of spirit to change her dream from a nightmare of Belikov's attack in the caves to something a bit more pleasant. He wished he could discern her location somehow, but there was no way for him to do so without questioning her directly. It was unfortunate he'd never merged their minds together the way he had done with the Russian, because then he would have been able to track her without a second thought.
He wondered—briefly—if minds could be merged in a spirit dream, but dismissed the thought almost as soon as it appeared. In all honesty, he was scared to attempt it. Spirit's darkness was already affecting his own dreams—he didn't dare pull the kind of power that a merging would require.
He had no idea how long he watched her frolicking in the meadow he'd constructed, time passed differently in dreams. It didn't really matter to him, Adrian's only concern was Rose. She looked so happy as she ran through the waist high grass with the dream version of Belikov he'd created laughing as he chased after her.
"Lord Ivashkov? Are you all right?"
The feel of someone gently nudging his shoulder drug him away from the joyous couple, pulling him back into his cold, uncomfortable body. He shifted, wincing as his stiff limbs protested , prickling at his sudden movement. He yawned, eyes still closed, wondering who in the hell was in his room and why he felt so damned sore.
"What the fuck? I didn't ask for a wake up call. How the hell did you get in here anyway?"
"We're in the middle of the forest, sir."
Opening his eyes he sighed in exasperation as he took in the overly helpful face of his least favorite person on campus. He looked around, letting out a soft laugh. "Huh. How about that. Wonder how I got here."
Digging around in his pocket, he pulled out his flask, unscrewing the cap, trying to remember why he had thought sleeping in the great outdoors was a good idea. The guardian shifted, pulling his attention back to the stocky man in front of him. He held out the flask, offering it up as a peace token.
"Want a drink, Guardian Dick?"
The man ignored the flask. "Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Stan Alto, not Dick."
Shrugging, Adrian took a healthy swig, recapping the flask as he answered. "Because you acted like a dick the first time we met. Not to mention the fact you terrorized my little dhampire almost every day."
"I was trying to teach her discipline. She—"
"Ah ah ah, Dick. You're lying to me. Didn't anyone tell you? I see auras. And right now yours is ratting you out. Wanna try again?"
Alto looked away, his face flushing. "It's personal."
"Oh God, don't tell me you have the hots for her too? What the hell is wrong with you guys? I thought guardians were supposed to be trained to show some fucking control!"
"Wha—No! Nothing like that. Not Rose…" It came out a mumble.
Adrian cocked his head, smirking as the colors around the man shifted, betraying his embarrassment. "Sure you don't want a drink, Stan? I'll get the answer out of you eventually. A little whiskey might make it slide off your tongue a bit easier."
"Her mother, okay? I had a… I asked her mother out a few times, and she wasn't very nice when she turned me down."
"So you decided to make Rose's life hell because of her mother?" Adrian arched a dark brow. "Pretty shitty."
"I couldn't help it, okay? They're so much alike…" Stan glared at the ground. "I feel bad about it—like maybe she left because I was so tough on her. That along with what happened to her mentor might have pushed her over the edge."
"Nah, it had nothing to do with you. She just needed a little break. She'll be back before you know it."
"You know where she is, don't you?" Alto's eyes narrowed. "You'd have to, you're her boyfriend."
Adrian couldn't contain a sarcastic laugh. "Uh—nope. Wrong guy. I'm too young for her. And probably too short. And too American. She likes her men…" He stopped, horrified as soon as the words left his mouth. He couldn't believe he'd let Rose's secret slip. Stan was staring at him, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping open in a way that made him look idiotic. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to pretend you didn't hear that, huh?
"I fucking knew it!" Alto began to pace. "I told Alberta there was something going on with them. The way they acted on that trip to…" He broke off, staring into space, a look of horror slowly creeping across his face.
"Trip to… where Stan? Complete sentences are helpful." The look on the mans face was... disturbing, to say the least. Not to mention the fact his normally tan skin had drained of all color, leaving him as pale as a Moroi.
"No… she wouldn't—she's not that impulsive… Oh God! I have to go. I…"
Adrian stared as the man bolted away, confused by his half stammered speech and dramatic exit. He felt a momentary tingle of unease, wondering if the man was running to Kirova to tattle about Rose and the Russian. If Alto did that, he'd be forced to disclose the source of the information to the headmistress, and if Stan thought that Adrian would collaborate his story, he was dead wrong. Pulling out his flask he splashed some on his coat and downed the rest. He was known for being a crazy drunk, and if need be, today he'd play the role to the hilt.