Chapter Twelve
Lana woke up in Dante’s arms, and slowly realized that the rocking she was feeling was the carriage moving forward. Dante must have given orders to leave shortly after they rescued her, so that they could retreat back to the castle as soon as possible. She blushed, realizing she must not have noticed during their lovemaking last night. Curling deeper into his embrace, she felt his arms tighten around her waist. He must have woken too, she recognized.
She felt his lips kiss the naked skin of her shoulder, and she snuggled closer. Moaning softly, she arched her back, pressing her bottom into the hardness that was nestled between her cheeks. As she moved beside him, she felt his length begin to throb against her skin. A heady feeling passed through her, knowing that he wanted her so much that such a simple touch stirred him. Smiling softly, she turned back to meet his eyes.
They were a beautiful icy blue, a strong change from the brilliant red of the day before. Turning into him, she buried her head in his shoulder, smelling his heady manly scent.
She didn’t want to get out of bed, and most definitely did not want to leave his arms. Thinking about the events over the past few days, she still felt exhausted, but she knew the time had come when she had to tell Dante about everything that happened.
She lifted her eyes to meet his, swallowing her fear and enjoying his warm gaze for but a moment.
“Dante?”
Curiosity bloomed deep in the depth of his gaze, his irises fluttering flames of red, intermingled with icy blue flares. It was an intoxicating sight.
She took a deep breath before she finally hurtled headfirst into her story. She told him everything and he listened silently. She told him about how she escaped through the woods, found shelter to hide in, and how she’d been captured by the shadow self of Lord Nero. Then, she described meeting him for the first time, and how much he had hurt her when he entered her head. Finally, she told him that Lord Nero had revealed to her about how she was the one spoken of in prophecy, how she looked exactly like Julia, and what he’d done to her and Dante in the past. When she eventually finished, she took a breath and realized her face was wet with trails of tears. Surprised, she brought her fingertips to her cheeks. She hadn’t even been conscious of the fact that she had begun to cry.
Dante wiped her tears away with his thumbs.
“Lana. Look at me. Everything is all right. You’re safe here with me. He is never ever going to hurt you again.”
Slowly, she brought her eyes to meet his, and his emotions crashed into her like a wave breaking on a wall. She felt his concern, his fear, but most of all, she felt his love for her. His power poured into her, trying to calm her of the residual terror.
“I will make sure he pays for what he has done to you. We will destroy him, no matter what it takes.” Pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her as her cries quieted. Her breathing calmed, and she eventually sighed with relief. The knowledge she had learned weighed heavily on her shoulders, and she felt tired. Retelling her story had taken a lot out of her.
“I’m so sleepy,” she muttered softly, her eyelids growing heavy. Dante kissed the top of her head before climbing out of bed. He pulled the covers back up and tucked her back in.
“My orders are for you to get as much sleep as possible on our journey back to Eridell, and back to the safety of our castle.”
Lana nodded softly, and Dante swooped down to kiss her lips. He kissed her gently, but so sweetly it left her reeling. Her eyes drooped, and she knew no more for another couple of hours. She slept off the exhaustion of her escape, her capture, her torture, and her rescue. When she finally woke, it was close to midday. She was alone in the carriage. Lana rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and groaned, stretching her stiff muscles.
Climbing out of bed, she found her discarded clothes and pulled them back on. She began to brew some fresh coffee, pouring herself a steaming cup when it was ready. Pulling out the cream and sugar, she sweetened her coffee and took a sip, moaning as the sweet and slightly bitter taste spread across her tongue.
She turned as she heard the door click behind her, and smiled when Dante walked in. He carried a bag that smelled strongly of freshly cooked food, and her stomach growled loudly enough for them both to hear. Laughing, she grabbed plates and silverware, and set the table for them both. She moaned in anticipation as he unpacked what looked like spaghetti with meatballs. Sadly, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been fed a real meal. She had only been given leftover scraps in Lord Nero’s tent. She struggled as the aromas nearly drove her mad to dish out plates for both of them.
“No need to be polite, Lana. I’m sure you’re starving,” Dante said, clearly reading her body language while listening to her ever-growling stomach. With his blessing, she sat down and hungrily dove into her plate. Before long it was empty, and she sat back and closed her eyes, enjoying a full stomach for the first time in what felt like a long time.
She looked at Dante as she felt the sway of the carriage moving underneath her. Almost not believing her good fortune, she wanted to pinch herself. Was she really here with Dante again? Or was she actually still in Lord Nero’s tent, suffering under another of his mental manipulations, his own special brand of torture? Could this be a dream? Was this simply Lord Nero’s way of torturing her? To give her happiness she could barely imagine, only to rip it out from beneath her feet to throw her back into a world of agony and despair?
“You’re safe now, Lana,” Dante said. He must have been able to read the fear written all over her face.
“It was terrible,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “He was a monster.”
“I know,” Dante replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I promise you are no longer in any danger. I will keep you safe, my pet. I will protect you. And I will kill him for hurting you.”
She stood and made her way over to him, needing his touch against her skin. Slowly, she sat in his lap and curled up, her head on his shoulder. She knew she needed to ask him about a few more things she had learned while under Lord Nero’s control. She was about to broach a subject that she knew was close to his heart and caused in a great deal of pain in the past.
“Dante?”
“Yes, Lana?”
Hiding her face in his chest, she whispered what she felt she needed to ask him, the question that had been burning her mind since she had heard Lord Nero utter the words.
“Why do I look exactly like Julia?”
His gaze soft, he met her eyes. She could see some form of faraway sadness nestled deep there, along with a reluctant acceptance of times long past.
“Honestly? I don’t have the slightest idea. When I first saw you, I was angry, and I wasn’t sure if someone was playing a sick joke on me. I questioned if Wes had something up his sleeve when he presented you to me. But then I got to know you a little bit, and I realized that you weren’t Julia, you were someone else. My Lana. I learned to love you for you, and not for the fact that you inherited the face of my long-lost love. Now, you’re my Lana. Not my Julia. My Lana.”
Lana pulled back and looked deep into his eyes. There was honesty there, and warmth that she hadn’t expected. He truly did love her, and he was telling her the truth. Bringing her lips to his, she kissed him softly, letting him know that with her simple gesture that she wasn’t angry, but happy, and that she believed every word he had said. He kissed her back just as sweetly, before she broke away and asked the next question that had been plaguing her.
“Lord Nero said there was a prophecy, and he told me that I’m an important part of it.”
Dante looked away, avoiding her eyes for a moment. When he looked back at her, he had a strange look in his eyes—one of anger, pain, and if she looked closely, desperation. Confused, she watched him until he began to speak.
“I don’t believe in prophecy. I don’t think it means anything. We are in control of our own fate, not something that the gods wrote down in the distant past.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to discuss this any further. Please do not ask me anymore.” He gently pushed her off his lap and stood, and he walked off, no longer looking her way. Lana noticed his hand covered his face, and his shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly. A sick feeling crept into her at his reaction. Something was seriously wrong.
Not being able to help herself, she continued to press him further.
“Dante, what’s wrong? What does it say?”
His eyes flickered from blue to red, his pain at her further questions plain as day. Looking back at her, his eyes filled with despair, he began to recite words in a voice that seemed utterly lifeless, and she regretted asking him even more.
“When the time comes to pass,
When true evil knocks on the city walls,
There will come the true savior,
A special gift for the king.
Her blood runs wicked and wild,
Her body lost with but a wanton touch,
Her face the same as one long past,
Will inherit the true power of her people.
Though before she saves the city from the horror of true evil,
Under the hand of her master in his moment of greatest peril,
She must be truly lost,
So that her master will survive,
And be the true king that he is meant to be.”
Silently, she stared back at him. What did that mean? What did the words ‘truly lost’ mean about her? Was she meant to die, far away on a foreign planet, under the hand of her torturer? Her fingers grazed her lips, her mouth open in an O, horror creeping up from deep inside her. She felt her body begin to tremble at the words, and at the look of loss that already painted Dante’s face.
No longer able to help herself, she threw herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, needing his warmth and his touch.
“No matter what, we’ll make it through. I’m not going to leave you. Ever, no matter what some silly prophecy says. I mean, how many times do things like this actually come true? Right?”
She felt him nod slowly against her shoulder, and she could feel just how hesitant he was. Trying not to let hopelessness wash over her, she closed her eyes and prayed that she would make it past whatever this prophecy foretold. Slumping against him for support, she took the strength he offered and gave him her hope.
She finally had him in her arms again, and she would be damned if she were to lose him for the second time. No matter what, she’d keep him close.