Alpha's Legacy (Black Moon Saga Book 3)

43. The Lap of Luxury: Anna Jade

I almost wonder if my eyes are playing tricks on me. I could swear that Grayson has brought us to an actual house. Not just any house, either. I’m only seeing a bedroom so far, but I can already tell that this place is one heck of an upgrade. Judging by this suite that is so grand it could practically be its own apartment, we could even be standing inside someone’s luxurious, sprawling mansion now.

“Whoa. That’s quite a change in scenery,” I comment, the words kind of just slipping out before I’ve thought to stop them.

He chuckles appreciatively, depositing my bag of stuff on a nearby accent table on his way to a doorway on the far side of the room.

“I told you that you wouldn’t need to worry about your bedding,” he reminds me. “Although, I’m not sorry that you brought it. Now it can be washed and returned to the linen closet from whence it came.”

“If you could have just wiggled and mumbled and teleported us here all along, then why were we hiding out in underground tunnels overrun with feral vampires?” I question demandingly.

Not to mention freezing our buns off in his unheated, unlit, practically uninhabitable little tunnel dungeon. If he’s been taking all our supplies from here anyway, what was the point?

“I try not to mix business with pleasure,” he explains without explaining, waving a hand about the room as he pauses in the far doorway. “Where we were is where I work, and besides, I wasn’t sure how much spellpower I would need to contain you. If you’ll recall, I draw extra power from other vampires, and those tunnels are rife with them.”

I suppose that makes sense, other than the part where I helped him figure out how to anchor his spells and conserve his power days ago.

“And Anna Jade, I’ve been trying to keep you as distanced from my life as I possibly can. The less you know, the less I’ll need to help you forget, and,” he pauses, pursing his lips thoughtfully. Then he gestures for me to follow him as he disappears into that other room. “And I didn’t know you well enough at first to trust that you’d behave if I brought you here. We’re above-ground now, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

I did notice that. There was even a window in the bedroom we were just in. The room he’s led me into now is dim, though. It looks like a private study of some sort, or maybe more of a personal library. There are tall shelves lining two of the walls, overfilled with books and magical artifacts. Then there are chests, cabinets, dressers, a desk, and even some regal-looking accent tables and plush guest chairs. An ornate rug covers most of the floor, the designs of it orienting toward an altar table set up along the far wall.

This is definitely a place that a caster could call home. It reminds me a lot of the room where Anya works in her chambers at Council headquarters.

“Since we’re above-ground, and I have neighbors to contend with, I couldn’t risk bringing someone who might make a scene and call attention to herself,” he continues. “At least not until I finish securing a room for her.”

As I ponder his words and our new location, he sets about unpacking his bags and returning his books and materials to their homes.

I had wondered how he happened to have a magic-suppressing collar just lying around at the ready when he supposedly hadn’t planned to hold anyone captive when he took me, but now I’m seeing how that fits into his lifestyle. He has all kinds of miscellaneous magical artifacts in here. Some are stored away more securely than most museum exhibits, but others appear to be on display and hanging out for all to see.

It’s strange, to say the least, but I bet if I still had access to my magic, I’d be sensing his magic all over this room. Although now that I think of it, that’s odd too. He doesn’t do anchored utility spells, or at least he didn’t before I met him, and yet, that’s what this room would require. I doubt that he moved this all here only days ago when he learned some sigils to help protect it.

It’s also a bit neater than I would have expected from him. Maybe it’s not even his, or maybe he has some silent partner I have yet to meet who is responsible for everything that I’m seeing.

But perhaps the most striking bit about it all is the books. There are so many of them. Didn’t he say that he doesn’t have access to anything but a couple of dusty old tomes, or something like that?

“You have an entire library full of books,” I point out, confused about how that’s even possible. “But I thought you said that you haven’t learned many of the basic utilities of protective magic because you don’t have access to stuff like this?”

“I don’t,” he scoffs, crossing his arms as he regards the shelves of books before us. “I have them, I own them, but I can’t access them.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t disagree.”

“Then how –” I start to ask, but he cuts me off.

“They were my mother’s,” he explains impatiently. “My mother, who was, of course, a witch. A good one, a light magic user, and I am her only child. She was determined not to let me become a dark magic user, which was admirable, especially in the times before The Council signed the treaty with the human governments which enacted the laws that require warlocks to attend reform schools to try and curb their natural affinity for dark magic. My mother worked tirelessly all on her own to steer me away from the darkness.”

“I guess that didn’t turn out so well,” I can’t stop myself from commenting, regretting it when I see the pained expression cross his face.

“No, she wouldn’t be happy to learn that this is what has become of her son,” he agrees, gesturing up and down himself. “But before Raja dug her abominable claws into me, I did fairly well at not disappointing my mother too badly. I wasn’t all that bad of a guy, and I didn’t use much dark magic. My essence wasn’t pure light, but it was light enough that I could read those.”

He gestures at the shelves of books and then crosses his arms again and resumes his stance leaning against the desk as he glares at the shelves of books.

“I couldn’t do much with them then, though,” he adds, sighing with frustration. “Didn’t have the power then, but I sure do now.”

He laughs ironically, giving me a rather heartbreaking tortured look.

“They’re enchanted in a way that the magic contained within them can only be unsealed by a light magic user,” I surmise, suddenly understanding his complicated and I would assume rather painful dilemma.

“See? I knew you weren’t an idi*t,” he teases, his laughter still a bit tense. “They are enchanted, and with the inherent darkness of my vampiric-fueled essence, it’s been well over a century since I’ve been able to view their contents. And now the irony intensifies, because here I am standing next to someone with the lightest essence I’ve ever personally observed, and I can’t risk taking the collar off and asking you to unseal these for me. You’d just teleport away and ruin everything, and I’ve got too much at stake to allow that.”

He’s the villain here. He’s been holding me captive against my will. He is not a good person, no matter how much he tries to convince me. And yet, I’m left standing there fighting the urge to offer to help him read his mother’s books. He’s a complicated guy, and I can see that there’s some good in him. My instinct seems to be to want to help him access more of that side of him.

But I can’t. Redeeming his soul or his magic or whatever such a quest would turn out to be, it’s not my responsibility.

“What if I promised to stay and not try to use my magic against you if you took the collar off?” I find myself asking, despite my brain’s own protests.

And then kicking myself as soon as it’s out. I should not have said that. These books aren’t any of my concern.

“Then you really would be an idi*t,” he insists, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t even bother. It’s not happening. If reading these and learning more about how to use my magic was important enough to me, I’d have found a way by now.”

I suppose that’s a fair point. If it’s been over a century since he’s read these books, then that means that he’s been a vampire for probably about that long. And that means that he’s had that long to seek out additional resources and training in magic, and has chosen not to prioritize doing any of that.

He’s not your responsibility, Anna Jade. He’s not yours to save. He’s using you for some selfish purpose that he hasn’t even explained yet. You can’t let yourself forget that.

“But I didn’t bring you here for a history lesson about Grayson Donovan and his witch of a mother who took it upon herself to give him the only education in magic that he’s ever had, nor was it my intent to wallow in the woes of the ways in which my life has taken tragic and irreversible turns,” he claims, despite quite ironically making a point of spelling out that very history and tragic past. “I brought you here to offer you an important choice, Anna Jade.”

Why is it that those very simple words have instilled such fear and anxiety in me that my legs have turned to rubber all of a sudden? The way he said it was eerie and unsettling, to say the least.

A choice, he says. Why does it kind of sound like it’s one of those choices that might potentially be the end of me, as though it’s the last decision I’ll ever make?

“You’ve been very cooperative and compliant for me through an ordeal that I’m sure has been terrifying, traumatic, and not at all something that a sweet, young girl like you should ever have to endure,” he goes on, speaking with the same dark and sinister tone that has me reflexively shivering just at the sound of it. “But I promise you that my part in this little detour I’ve brought you along on is just about over. You won’t be stuck with me for much longer.”

I don’t like the sound of that. Maybe I want to be stuck with him, especially if the choice is between him and someone much worse who won’t be worried about not hurting me. The enemy you know, and all that.

“I don’t want to leave yet,” I blurt out, my fear taking over and knocking my better judgement aside. “I don’t want you to trade me to someone else. Please, just let me stay with you. I’ll even help you read all these books, and I’ll willingly put the collar back on after. Please? Just don’t send me away.”

I’m just frantically rambling now, pleading with a vampire, of all people. A dark, vampiric warlock, no less. As if my futile attempt at begging will somehow magically sway his mind and convince him to abandon whatever mission he took me for in the first place.

He does give me a soft, sympathetic, pitying look for just a moment, though. For a moment, I almost had him. I saw it.

“I can’t do that,” he insists, suddenly blanking his expression and steeling his resolve. “I have my reasons, and I’m sure you wouldn’t understand or approve of them, so I’m not going to bother explaining it all to you. I need to do what I set out to do, or otherwise, I might as well have just left you alone. But I’ve already gone and stirred up a massive pot of trouble with your mother and all her powerful mates and allies, so I might as well get what I need out of it at least.”

“I’d vouch for you. You haven’t done anything but take me yet,” I remind him. “You can still make it right.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” he insists, raising his voice with me for the first time ever. “Not everything is about you and what you want, Anna Jade. There’s a whole world out there filled with people, and sometimes, more than just what precious, sweet little Anna Jade wants out of life must be taken into consideration. Other people have needs too. What they want, what they need, sometimes it matters more than your tiny little world, Anna Jade. Don’t be so selfish.”

It’s not lost on me how much he repeated my full name during his little rant there. I know that my insistence on being addressed properly and respectfully has become part of his point now. He’s resentfully throwing it back at me even as he caters to my demands, but I honestly can’t help wondering why he’s suddenly talking to me like this. He’s mostly been kind and maybe even a little bit warm toward me before now.

What has changed? Is it possible that he’s having second thoughts, and doesn’t want to trade me anymore? A girl can dream, I guess.

“And I suppose I’ve just decided for you. You can stay here tonight,” he declares, indicating the bedroom that we came through to reach the library. “I’ll finish securing it and let you have free run of the master suite, including the bathroom. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, and I do hope that you enjoy your stay here at Casa Donovan.”

He adds that last part rather sarcastically, his entire demeanor tense and frustrated now. It’s almost like he’s suddenly fed up with me and can’t wait to get away from here.

“Is this your real house?” I question him, not taking the time to process our exchange yet, or to ponder what my other choices might have been before he changed his mind.

For whatever reason, the tidbit that my frazzled brain wants to zero in on right now is the fact that this place is so vastly different from where he just brought me from, and that it seems to be a fully furnished, lived-in house. The flair of it suits him better than that underground prison location, that’s for sure, and the library here even houses his mother’s tomes of magic. It really might be his actual, real home.

“I’ve wasted enough time answering questions that won’t matter much after tomorrow,” he responds evasively, his gaze focused on the window in the other room now.

He’s unresponsive after that, ignoring any further questions that I fling at him, choosing to focus on “securing” the suite he has offered to me with more barriers and shields meant to keep me in and prevent the world outside from accessing me or even noticing that I’m here. Once he’s finished, he leaves me alone in the room, securing the doorway as he leaves and then closing and locking the door behind him.

That leaves me with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company for the rest of the day and night. They’re not good company, either. Sure, this room is regal and comfortable and nice, but that far from makes up for what lies ahead. Something is happening soon, probably the trade that he’s been promising me for days.

I half-heartedly doodle away on some of the loose pages I brought with me from the underground prison he was keeping me in before, but I can’t really focus on it. I have nothing to write there anyway, other than replacing what information I can remember from the drawings I left behind.

My mind drifts to wondering if anyone found those or if there was anything in there that might help them figure out where I am. Or at the very least, and perhaps more importantly, figure out where I’m going. I can only hope that some of the things that Grayson has told me may hint at who it potentially might be that he’s trading me off to.

Finally, once I’ve filled all the pages and exhausted all the information that I can remember, pausing only to nibble away at the food that Grayson brings for me periodically, I collapse in the bed. I can’t even find the tears to cry anymore, having expended everything I’ve got all through my fretful day.

I don’t know why it’s taken this long for the reality of my situation to finally sink in, but it makes me feel like the idi*t that Grayson keeps claiming I’m not. But now that I’m finally processing it, it hurts. It leaves me feeling empty and scared.

I miss home. I miss my family. I kind of wish I’d never left there, that I’d chosen to suck it up and just move on with my normal, sheltered life the way that it was. I don’t regret seeing the places that I saw, meeting the people that I did, or learning all that I have, but I’d trade it all in a heartbeat if it meant never ending up here.

My mind wanders to Lee eventually, and by extension, Margot. My sister. The one sibling of mine besides Emerick who has been around for my entire life. Why were we never very close? We’re sisters, after all. Both of us girls, bonded by sharing the same parents and pack. Especially after Emerick and I started to drift apart, why did I never start to drift more toward her?

I’ve always admired and looked up to her, and I have a lot of memories from when we were little and she openly and enthusiastically embraced the role of the big sister, teaching me things, sharing her old toys with me, dressing me in her old, discarded clothes that no longer fit her. But those memories became fewer and farther between the older we got.

It’s weird because she’s not even a full year older than Emerick and I. We’re practically the same age. She was only a grade ahead of us in school, then eventually, only a grade behind me. And yet, why did it always seem like we did everything we could to stay separate from each other?

We had different friends and vastly different interests. She’s an athlete, and I’m not. I’m an artist, and she’s not. She liked to shadow the warriors and sit in on their training even from a young age, and I’ve never been interested. I like science, medicine, herbalism, that sort of thing. She likes showing off her physical prowess and beating on things.

And yet, we both managed to fall for the same guy. In retrospect, that was stupid of me and mostly my mistake. The instant that Lee revealed that he had discovered his fated mate and not rejected her yet, I should have walked away. I’ve never experienced it, but I know how a fated mate bond works. He was someone else’s man the entire time, and I knew it.

But like Grayson just accused me, I can get a bit stuck on thinking only about Anna Jade and narrowly focusing on what I want or how things make me feel. Even if he is misguided in flinging that accusation around, throwing it at me when he is quite literally using me as a commodity to get whatever it is that he wants, he does have a point. I know because I haven’t stopped thinking about it all day, and I’ve come to agree with him.

I left Black Moon because I was only thinking of me. My feelings were hurt. I wasn’t getting the attention and treatment that I thought I deserved. But instead of sticking around and doing anything to resolve that, I just up and left. I left my pack and deserted my family. It was intended to be temporary, but what was I thinking? Time may heal wounds, but only if you enact some significant change for it to work on in the meantime. By just leaving, I only left the problem behind to still be there to greet me when I came back.

I mean, there’s a chance that I’ll be a slightly different person when I go back, if I go back, but what will have changed, really? I still left without resolving anything with my friends, and my absence may only have solidified their opinions of me. I left without really, truly making amends with Adam, and though I know he’ll still be willing to work through things with me if I ever make it back to him, that was selfish of me to leave him with those wounds ripped open like that. Sure, we hugged it out a little before I left, but I’ve never once called him to chat or even say hello. I’ve been holding a grudge this whole time, and how is that going to help fix anything?

And then there’s Margot, who’s not only my sister, but my future Alpha. Well, wait. Actually, that might not even be true anymore if she’s been forced into mating with Lee. That’s even worse, though, and more to the point I was thinking about.

I’ve really destroyed whatever relationship I had with her. I destroyed her life, actually, and all because I was only thinking of myself. I wanted Lee, and I ignored everything that I should have been paying attention to in my effort to glue myself to him and make a square peg fit in a round hole, or however that expression goes.

He wasn’t mine, and I knew that pretty early on, but I ignored every warning sign and red flag there was because it felt good, and I liked it. Am I really so greedy and starved for affection that I’ll fight my own better sense and internal compass of right and wrong just to steal a few kisses with a cute guy?

I keep thinking back to that conversation that I had with Margot over the phone the morning before everything came crashing down. There were so many hints, so many clues, and if I’d been paying attention and thinking of anything other than proving I was right and staking some imaginary claim on a man, things could have gone so differently.

You know what really burns my soul? I never once apologized to her or expressed even a single ounce of sympathy or remorse. In fact, I blamed her. I resented her. I left there without even speaking to her about any of it, when nothing was resolved between us.

She’d been keeping a secret, a big, important secret, and dealing with it all alone. She found her mate, and in her mind, lost him pretty much in the same instant. As soon as she realized that her mate was the future Alpha of Luna’s Grace, she had to have known that she couldn’t have him. That must have hurt so much, and ached deep down in her soul. Lee even said that she tried to just reject him outright and get it over with, but he refused her. She had to live like that, in a state of limbo, with that unresolved mate-bond and impending rejection weighing on her for months, more than likely. Probably since her birthday, or shortly after.

I never knew. She suffered alone, and no one could tell. Strangely, not even our mother seemed to know what was going on with her. And yet, she didn’t run away from her pack or try to avoid her problems the way that I have. She dug into her training and preparing to become Alpha, all the while puzzling over what to do about Lee.

Then I swooped in and ruined it all for her, and for him. They’re fated mates, destined for each other since birth, and I only knew him for a few days. Yet I was the one who got to grieve and wallow for days about it, when I bet that neither of them ever had that luxury. Maybe they’re mated now, and maybe they’ve moved on and accepted their new lives, but they had to do it all without so much as a call or text from me to check in with them and see how they were doing.

I’m such a selfish, spoiled brat, and now Karma has caught up with me. And yet, it doesn’t help me feel any better, even knowing that I might deserve a little of my suffering. Unless someone else I know and care about risks important parts of themselves, their lives and their happiness, just to come and rescue my ungrateful, undeserving little self, then I don’t even know if I’ll ever get the chance to set things right and try to make up for the things that I’ve done and the ways that I’ve wronged people.

I think that’s what hurts the most, knowing that my mistakes might be unfixable and live on eternally, while life as I know it is about to be over.

After Grayson has his way with my memories later, I might not even remember that any of it ever happened. The time just keeps slipping away from me, still lying sleeplessly in Grayson’s bed as I ponder the regrets of my past and what lies ahead for me. There’s no clock to gauge the passing of time, but there is a window.

A window that I can’t climb out of. Can’t yell out of it either. No one can see in. Grayson already made sure of it.

But the sun, it just keeps climbing higher and higher in the sky, taunting me as it goes about its normal business of burning bright and hot while my little planet spins and tumbles around it, both celestial bodies oblivious to my plight as I’m locked away here in this warlock’s fancy, luxurious bedroom.

I miss the simplicity of Pete’s house. The comfort of its familiar surroundings. The monotony of my routine back home. The warmth of the unconditional love from my family, and yes, even my pesky and often annoying siblings.

I don’t know what sort of a relationship I might still have with the Moon Goddess after my part in interfering with one of her sacred pairings and trying to steal away with my sister’s mate, especially since I’ve barely given the Goddess a thought since I left Black Moon territory, but I’m surely thinking of her now. Praying even. Begging for her forgiveness and for a chance to redeem myself.

If she could just smile upon me and bless me with one tiny iota of her favor, I promise that I’ll never be ungrateful for the simple blessings of my ordinary, sheltered life ever again.