Chapter 70 - Betrayed
Blood roared through Catherine’s head, her chest felt too tight, her breathing stopped, her heart stuttered, dark spots danced before her eyes, and for the life of her, she could not move to turn her head. She felt frozen to the spot.
A moment passed, ten, a hundred, maybe even none and the only thought that kept drumming through her head was... no-no-no-no.
It repeated with every sluggish, painful beat of her heart. It could not be true, not even her father would be that arrogant... that careless... that cruel...
Finally, she forced her wooden muscles to move. She turned like an old woman, and Catherine blinked owlishly into the bright light of day that entered from outside the tent.
She was unable to get a clear view of the men until the outside flap of the tent was released back into place and her whole world came to a crashing halt.
This time Drake had gone too far. This time even the other elders would not forgive him.
The man beside her father was not Hellenic. She would have known his face among a thousand others. Even from where she stood, she could smell his familiar scent, but it was fainter now, tainted by that Eduardo. Their eyes met across the distance and held.
“On what grounds?” The priest demanded. He must have been the only person in that airless, quiet room, who did not know who the man was or the import of his presence.
“Catherine is already married,” the man declared with an arrogance, she never saw in him. “To me...” His gaze was both angry and possessive. His anger made her own rise, but his possessive gaze brought her heart stuttering back to life.
“Brother...” Darcon spoke, and Dillon’s eyes moved to him instantly.
The anger in him was explosive at that moment, and all Catherine could think was, he is going to tear Darcon apart. He is going to kill them all, but Dillon did not move.
Dillon’s control was both impressive and chilling. It was a control a new born vampire should not have possessed, but then again, he never was an ordinary man. Why should he be an average vampire? Her emotions were a confused jumble. Love, fear, doubt, anger, pain, and hope...
“Unhand my wife,” Dillon ordered, and Darcon calmly let go of her hand. She wasn’t even been aware that they were still holding hands in preparation for the binding ceremony.
“She is all yours, brother,” Darcon intoned as his eyes took in his brother, but not like a man sizing up an enemy... Would Dillon notice that? Would he see the... fondness in Darcon’s eyes? The worry?
Dillon moved with a speed and control that made the human priest gasp. Suddenly he was toe to toe with Darcon. Their eyes measured and weighed, but Darcon didn’t give a single hair’s breath, and Dillon frowned. The tension in the room rose until it was palpable.
“What are you doing here?” Dillon demanded coldly.
“Honoring my role as your brother,” Darcon answered. Catherine felt her heart clench as Dillon almost lost that iron control that was on the edge of slipping.
“Since when?” Dillon bit out, but it was more like a quiet roar.
“Since the day you were born,” Darcon brazenly replied, and she knew Dillon was going to lose it. Whatever would have happened, stalled as the tent flap was ripped open and a group of men entered from outside.
“How touching. A family reunion,” a cold voice murmured. All anyone could see was a tall hooded man. Again the tent closed up, but before their eyes could adjust, something fell on the ground with a muted thud and the smell of blood.
It rolled halfway across the room, before Catherine’s eyes adjusted enough to see what it was. When her eyes acknowledged what her brain would not, she felt faint for a second time that day. This time she felt her anger rise to rival even that of her husband.
A red haze of rage, fuelled by a terrible sorrow, fired through her veins and when she looked up into that mocking gaze, she felt the bitterness of bile rise up into her throat.She knew it was him the second he entered the room. She knew his smell, his frame and the way he walked.
For the second time in her life, she was betrayed by a man she trusted and even loved. If it were not that Darcon and Dillon grabbed hold of her arms at that moment, she would have stormed forward, mindless of the armed men behind the cloaked figure.
She barely had time to take in the fact that the man she loved was alive and that somehow her father saved him from death, when another she loved died at the hands of someone she loved and respected equally. She was in shock and very near feral.