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he told them, hoping beyond hope that they would understand and vindicate him.
His hope did not prevail.
Lacey tipped her chin up and stared at him with hard green eyes, breathing in hard and slow.
“You should have killed yourself then, brother. You should not have killed her sister. Don’t you go near her brother. Leave Alexander Montford, out of all of them, alone. You should do yourself a favour and leave, before Jayce is crowned” she told him, eyes flashing violent warnings at him.
Talor couldn’t help raising his eyebrows at her implications and words that were wise beyond her generation.
“And why is that?” he asked coolly, his inherent arrogance returning to him somewhat.
Lacey sighed and tightened her grip on Kimba’s little hand.
“Think about it, Talor. When Jayce is King, do you really think he’ll want you around here, in the realm? Don’t believe that. Mark my words, brother, he will want you gone. If you want to know what I think now, you already bear a target on your head. You will be dead within the next two years” she replied, beginning to turn away.
“I’m his brother!” Talor called out after her, shifting Cleo’s dead weight higher as he began to feel the heaviness of her.
“That’s what Jayce said” Lacey said quietly, leading Kimba along down the corridor.
Talor gazed after them, an odd painful sensation starting up behind his black eyes. He shook his head, furious at himself. He was a vampire; he shouldn’t know the meaning of the word cry, let alone know what it felt like to cry. He sniffed shortly and started walking once more, his boots ringing out high and loud on the stone floors.
In his arms, Cleo was held firmly, all of her except for her head. Her blonde hair swept over Talor’s black clad shoulder, making him tense and unsure. Her hair was the exact same shade of golden brown as Elara’s was.
His muscles began to tighten as he came nearer and nearer to Jayce and Elara’s bedroom. At last, he stood beyond the door, waiting for the right moment to enter. Had Lacey told them what he’d just done? Or had Kimba? He shook his head, straightened his already sharp posture and strode inside the room.
On the wide four poster bed, Elara sat bolt upright, her hands flying to cover her mouth. She stared at him, her chocolate eyes wide and filled with an immense agony like none he’d ever seen in his lifetime. She actually continued to love her sister, no matter how cruel Cleo had been to her, no matter how the cruel words spoken hurt her badly.
“Jayce…!” Elara exclaimed, gripping handfuls of the bed duvet cover in her fists.
Talor glanced to the other side of the room and saw Jayce materialise in the middle of thin air. His eyes widened; he hadn’t known that the older brother had the capability to disappear and reappear as he saw fit, not so quickly anyway. He had barely even been summoned; Elara had merely said his name.
Jayce gazed at Talor, his eyes narrowed. His mouth flattened into a hard line, his jawline taut and heavily controlled.
“You’ve killed Cleo, I see” he said tightly, his hands straight down by his sides.
He glanced once over at Elara, gauging the energy draining out of her and the lapse in her it left behind in its stead. Talor was draining her yet again, only this time, it wasn’t life blood he was draining; it was her hope.
“I was so angry” Talor murmured, subconsciously repeating the same excuse he had given his sisters. “I needed to do it.”
Elara gave a little cry of pain, her hands moving from her mouth to rest on her swollen abdomen. Jayce looked back at her, then was at her side in an instant. His hands fluttered over her tummy, his eyes closed and his senses searching for movement and a heart beat. He looked up into her eyes and forced a smile onto his pale face.
“He’s fine, Elle. There is nothing wrong with him” he said quietly, reaching up to stroke her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
Elara released a breath she’d been holding in and let herself relax very slightly, her gaze still on Talor’s face.
“So you have killed my sister, brother-in-law. What do you propose to do with her now? She cannot be buried here; it would not be right” she said firmly, her willpower alone preventing her voice from trembling out of control.
Talor allowed himself to meet her heady stare without blinking or looking away again.
“I’m going to take her home” he said softly, speaking directly to her.
For him, his brother was nowhere in the room with them, but it seemed to him that Harmony was there. In his head, he could hear her voice saying he needed to fix it, make amends and make right all he had done wrong. He smiled abstractly, his eyes rolling back into his head slightly.
Elara started up, panic overpowering her. She wasn’t sure of the reason why it was, it just was.
“Don’t let her go, Talor. Don’t forget her” she said to him, leaning forward, one hand outstretched to him.
He nodded, turned and walked back through the still open door. The final thing he saw was Jayce wrapping his arms around Elara and holding onto her tightly.
She still reached for him.

Talor landed in Cleo’s bedroom with a loud thump. His heavy boots had slammed into the floor much harder than normal, because of his load. He grimaced and laid her lightly down on her bed. She appeared to be almost asleep, her closed eyes making her seem peaceful and content.
In a strange act of humanity, Talor arranged Cleo’s hands over her chest in the usual way for mortals when they had died. He stepped back and stared down at her, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
“Cleopatra, I shall never let you go, or forget you. I give you permission to visit me in my dreams. Farewell, sister of the future Queen of the realm.”

Chapter 18
Four and a half months later
Talor woke frantically, clawing at his pillows. He opened his eyes, hardly able to see. She was still in his head, haunting him because he was stupid enough to give her his permission.
“Cleo, get out of my mind!!” he roared, baring his teeth.
His fangs came forward and shone in the milky moonlight pouring in through his window. Even though now he was awake, her voice was still speaking to him and he felt that he was going mad. He gave into her and lay flat on his back, black eyes staring unseeingly up at his bedroom ceiling. His sheets were silky on his skin, but he felt none of it.
‘You tell her I didn’t mean it. You tell her that I love her and that I’m so sorry. You had better tell her, Talor, or I’ll…’
Talor snarled, writhing from side to side on his huge bed. He had his hands pressed to his ears and his eyes tightly shut.
“Or you’ll what? You’re damn well dead, Cleopatra!” he growled, pain threading its path through his brain.
‘I’ll get you, Talor. You know I will. So you tell her…’
The moment she left him, Talor sat back up, letting his hands fall away from his ears. There was no agony anymore, only recognition of what he’d done. He had let the girl inside his mind, had given her the purest allowance of anyone living, ever. Now he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to get her out again.

For the first time in her memory, Elara woke up before Jayce had. She knew why it would be: today was the day of his coronation and he didn’t want to wake up. She knew that he saw his kingship as a duty, but it had never been something he really desired. He wanted to just be able to have a family of his own and live in peace, something he knew noe he would never get. As long as his brother acted in the ways he had been acting lately, there would never be any peace.
She glanced at her dainty gold watch, then leaned over to shake his shoulder. Her belly prevented her from moving very much, but she tried her best to wake him up.
“Jayce! It’s time for you to get ready!” she said hurriedly, lightly shoving him with both hands.
She heard a groan and smiled to herself. Jayce merely rolled over and wrapped an arm over her, anchoring her in next to him.
“Hurry up” Elara said, still smiling.
She reached up to stroke his dark hair, then slightly tugged on a hank of it. Jayce gently hit her hand away, finally sitting up. He looked sleepy, a loose curl hanging over one of his black eyes. She stared down at him, thinking in wonder of how Talor resembled him. But there was always that something that Talor didn’t have that Jayce did. Jayce was reasonably happy and even when he wasn’t, he didn’t like to hurt people on purpose. Talor was the precise opposite of his brother. He inflicted pain on others because it amused him, but she didn’t think he would be able to handle pain if anyone harmed him in return.
Jayce pulled himself into a sitting position, staring at her with both eyes now wide open and alert.
“Have you realised you’re two weeks late?” he asked, a forced tone of calmness to his voice.
Elara nodded, glancing away from him and struggling to sit up. He reached for her hands and eased her upright, then shifted to sit behind her. He leaned forward and rested his chin on her shoulder. Elara placed her hands on her rounded stomach, shutting her eyes and feeling the distant kicks of an overtired baby boy. He was very late.
“Aren’t you worried about him?” Jayce pressed, running his hands through her untidy thick hair.
Elara shrugged, but the nervous butterflies had started up in her tummy again. She felt them whenever she thought of how late the baby was.
“Of course I worry about him, Prince. But why do you?” she replied, tilting her head back to gaze at him upside down.
Jayce blinked in surprise at her, his long lashes brushing his pale cheeks.
“Why shouldn’t I?” he retorted with a question of his own.
Elara snorted, knowing that he knew just what she was meaning.
“He isn’t yours, Jayce. You know that. So why is it that you feel you have some sort of responsibility for him?” she demanded.
Jayce sighed and stood up, walking carefully over the bed before leaping down onto the floor. He turned and faced her, his eyes piercing and dark.
“Because I do have responsibility, Elara. His real father is dead, so what else can I do? I am the closest thing he has to a father now. So what if he looks like Elliott and not like me? If he looks like you, that will be easier to take, but even if he does not, I can still love him, Elle. Nothing will stop me” he said slowly, his voice quietly steady.
Elara stared at him and sniffed faintly. She had no idea he thought that way about Elliott’s illegitimate child. She had only thought that he would despise the boy, no matter what happened. She had been wrong then.
She smiled and reached out for him. Jayce came closer and helped her down to the floor. He did this every morning, because she couldn’t do it herself any longer. She grimaced and tensed, her hands still in his. Her whole body went rigid and Jayce froze.
“What is it?” he demanded, his grip on her
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