The Vampire Prince - Lissie (good novels to read in english TXT) 📗

said coolly, closing her eyes and allowing his measured strength to lead her instead of her sight.
After a while, Talor stopped moving and Elara reopened her eyes, to find herself standing in front of an unfamiliar oak wood door. She glanced up at Talor, confused.
“What are we doing here?” she wondered. “This isn’t my room.”
Talor paused, looking fidgety and uncomfortable as he struggled to find the words to tell her.
“Belle Elara, this is Jayce’s room. You’re married now. It is now appropriate and customary for you to share the same space. I hope I have not upset you” he said, staring anxiously into her eyes.
Elara held herself up and tried to smile at him, waving off his concerns.
“I’ll be fine. Just promise that if you hear me screaming, you will save me and return me to my sister and brother. Please, Talor. I need you to make this oath for me” she said very seriously, her arms folded.
He took in a deep breath, unnecessarily.
“I vow to you that I will take you home if any danger befalls you while you dwell under my roof, Elara Montford” he replied honestly, bowing to her from the waist.
Elara bowed her head in return and her smile grew stronger. She watched him as he strode away from her, his shoulders hunched slightly. She fervently hoped that one day someone would make him happier than he had ever been, stuck trapped in this kingdom for longer than she would ever be. He would never die.
Elara knocked rapidly on the broad door, twice. Her knuckles stung harshly, but she ignored the pain. The door swung open a crack and she could see Jayce looking out at her through the tiny gap. He pulled the door further open and stood aside to let her in. He looked at her through guarded eyes, but it wasn’t until she stepped across the threshold that she understood why he looked that way.
Lying sprawled on the black carpet near the four poster bed was a human corpse. At least, she assumed that it was a corpse. There seemed to be no life left in the pale, limp body. Elara backed away slowly, only to find that behind her, the door was now shut and bolted. She looked nervously at Jayce, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. Instead, he was staring down at the human he had just wasted beyond all comprehension. He crouched down next to it, and wound his arms around his knees. Elara stared at him in strong surprise as it dawned on her that the boy was rocking back and forth, his face buried against his knees. Her heart bumped hard inside her chest and she suddenly found herself wandering slowly over to him and sinking down beside him. Jayce didn’t look up at her and she heard his soft cries as he kept his face hidden from her sight. She breathed in quietly and leaned over him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Lightly, she stroked his dark hair and rested her cheek against his crown.
“What’s the matter, Prince? It’s all right; I don’t mind. Talor explained everything to me that he thought he could get away with. I know that you don’t feed anywhere near enough to stay warm. You know that I can love you anyway” she said to him, continuing to touch his soft hair.
Jayce stopped crying and raised his head to meet her eyes. His own black ones were laced with fiery red veins, and she forced herself not to flinch. He caught the tensing of her muscles, however, and smiled coldly, looking away again.
“See? You say the words, but you can’t mean them, Elle. And I know I promised to not call you that ever again, but I’m sick of it. Sick of pretending to you that I’m lovely and light, when I am clearly not, my darling. Could you love me with that lying right there? That human corpse? I can’t be what you want, and I know it all. What you should have is that human boy, Elliott Turner. He is what you should live with and what you deserve. Not me. He’s warm and he has a beating heart, Elara Montford” he said coldly, his tone as hard as ice.
Elara swallowed and pulled him to his feet, steadying herself. He wasn’t going to hold her up this time round, she knew. She grabbed his jaw in her left hand and pointed with her right index finger at the dead body lying on the carpet by their feet.
“I can still love you with that lying right there, Prince” she said fiercely, and she tightened her fingers on his jaw so he understood what little power she did have.
Jayce gazed straight at her, unblinking. His dark eyes were still woven through with red lines, but this time Elara wouldn’t move from his stare. She moved her hands to his collar and quickly unbuttoned the fancy black shirt before he could think about stopping her. She pushed it off his shoulders and down his arms so it pooled on the floor in a shadowy mess. Jayce eyed her warily, but she just hugged him, her arms circling his back so her hands linked in the middle of his spine. She smiled, knowing that she was right.
“See? You are warm, Jayce. Not cold” Elara said confidently, leaning back a little to grin up at him.
But he was rearing away from her, his eyes shut tightly. The tendons in his neck were pulled taut, and his strong jaw was locked shut. Elara sighed and opened her mouth.
“Don’t speak” Jayce said tightly, speaking through tightly clenched teeth.
“Why?” Elara demanded, placing her hands on her hips and glaring up at him, defenseless or not.
“Because I can breathe you in when you do, and I’m not meant to do that. I want to…I can’t…I want to…” Jayce hissed, his strength obviously waning.
“But I’m not Elara Montford anymore” Elara whispered. “I’m your wife now. I don’t belong to that world anymore.”
And she pressed forward and kissed him. At first, he was cold and unresponding, but after a few seconds, she could feel his lips pushing more urgently against hers. As Jayce led her away from the white corpse, Elara felt the heat in her heart explode. He did love her, no matter what he said or how he acted. He had stayed on that street and secretly attended all of her birthday parties since she was twelve years of age, a mere child. He had chosen her to be his and to remain with him, to make his home of perpetual nighttime something lighter and beautiful.
She felt the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she promptly sat down, the sheets rippling away from her. He leaned over her and she could feel his tears mixing with her own as they trickled down their cheeks.

Chapter 7
Elliott paced around the perimeter of Cleo’s bedroom, close to tearing his hair out. He had dark hanks of it in his hands and it was pulled to breaking point. Cleo watched him as calmly as she could, her insides roiling from just seeing her sister get married to a vampire. She started to jiggle her foot up and down, much to Elliott’s annoyance.
“Would you quit that?” he demanded, glaring at her.
Cleo raised an eyebrow and said nothing to reply. She merely began whistling, an old irritating habit brought back by extreme necessity. Elara wasn’t there to tell her to stop it, so she didn’t. And wouldn’t.
Elliott rolled his eyes and suddenly sat down on the floor, his hand in his hands. Cleo was struck by the sight and wanted very badly for him to feel that way about her. But he didn’t, and he never would. She sighed and slid off her bed, down to the carpet beside him. She wound an arm around his taut shoulders and sat in silence, until he spoke first.
“How do you stand it? How can you just sit here without freaking out on yourself? I’m going to pieces here, and you aren’t! How is that, Cleo? She’s your sister, for goodness’ sake!”
Cleo sat back, ruffled by the harsh words.
“I do miss her, and I’m worried, too! But there’s nothing we can do for her, because we can’t get to her unless one of them comes to get us! Elliott, I’m not stupid! No matter what you think, Elara’s not better than me!” she spat back.
Elliott recoiled from her, hearing her say it. Cleo was shocked by herself, unable to believe her own ears and voice. Unable to believe she thought that way. She stared at Elliott in horror, and he gazed back at her, equally mortified.
“Elliott…” she began, reaching a hand toward him.
But he scooted away from her further.
“I can’t believe you said that! You sounded just like your mother! How could you believe that, Cleo? In that respect, she is better than you; she’s always thought that you were better than her! She went on and on about how beautiful you were and good at everything, and how everyone liked you! Your sister loves you so much, and here you were, secretly thinking you were always better and more special than she was. Well, I guess she was wrong there, Cleopatra Moreland. Because Elara has two guys in love with her, and you’ve got no one!” Elliott yelled, his dark eyes bright and hard.
Cleo fought back the tears, knowing that if she started to cry, she wouldn’t be able to stop. She stood up as Elliott did, and faced him across the new gulf separating them from each other.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, Elliott” she said brokenly, her voice falling apart inside her mouth.
Elliott’s glare didn’t soften; instead it got harder and darker, and Cleo looked away from his face.
“I love my sister, Elliott!” she exclaimed angrily, flags of bright colour rising in her cheeks.
“Maybe so, but that love is mixed in with the love you have for your own self. Your parents taught you well” he retorted.
Cleo cocked her arm back and punched him square on the jaw. Then, her knuckles throbbing, she grabbed his aching jaw and kissed him. Elliott was stunned and at first he didn’t respond, feeling only the shooting pain radiating througout his skull. But slowly, he kissed her back, lifting his hands to frame her face. He brushed the fine strands of her hair back off her face and lightly touched her cheek bones.
Cleo smiled, forgetting about how her hand stung, and concentrated fully on Elliott. And then he broke away from her, his eyes once again wide, wide open. His gaze latched onto hers and she faltered. He looked mad, his eyebrows furrowed together.
“How could you do that? You know, you have always known, that I am in love with your sister. You are a manipulator!” Elliott hissed at her, snatching his jacket off the back of her computer chair.
“You kissed me back!” Cleo protested, fighting the salty tears trying to break through.
Elliott glared at her, his fists clenched.
“Yeah, well. But I wish I hadn’t!” he shot back snarkily.
Cleo stared at him, her chin set stubbornly. Elliott opened his mouth, shut it and then walked out of the bedroom, closing the door hard behind him. She looked at the door for the next few seconds, then collapsed backwards on the floor, her arms flung up behind her head. She gazed at the ceiling until her eyes felt dry.

Meanwhile, Elliott began his walk home, only to be accosted by a good looking sixteen year old boy with fair skin and dark hair. Elliott paused, eye to eye with the