The hallway he found himself in was made of stone, and the air inside was cleaner and less damp than what he’d encountered in the tunnel.
His eyes darted to the right. He felt physically drawn in that direction, as if the answers to his questions lay there. But he forced himself to go left, knowing there wasn’t enough time to both investigate the king’s rooms and talk to Faye. His friends from Scanguards wouldn’t hesitate to make good on their promise to search for him should he not return in time, and he had no intention of putting them in undue danger. There would be plenty of time later to find out more about his old life.
If this was indeed his old life.
Careful not to make any sound with his shoes, he walked to the door John had indicated and perused it. The lever next to it was shaped like a stake. Cain shook his head. Somebody around here had strange tastes, and he sure hoped that he wasn’t the one to blame for this odd choice of handle.
Cain twisted the lever and immediately saw a tiny beam of light shine through the hidden door. He moved to bring his eye in line with it and peered through the small hole.
His heart stopped.
There was no mistaking her. Faye looked exactly like she’d appeared in his dreams, though she was dressed in casual clothes, a pair of tight jeans and a loose-fitting sweater. It had slid to one side, exposing one creamy shoulder. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders and back, and her eyes were as green as a meadow in the spring.
The room looked eerily similar to the one in his last dream. He’d been here before. He’d made love to her in this room. Yet as much as he wanted to open the door and walk to her, he couldn’t.
Faye wasn’t alone.
The vampire who was with her stood with his back to Cain, preventing him from seeing his face. The stranger now extinguished the distance between him and Faye, his hand already clasping her bare shoulder, the other one sliding around her waist to pull her to him.
The moment the vampire kissed her, Cain closed his eyes.
The man whose face he couldn’t see had to be Abel. Faye had gotten over his death and maybe even forgotten him. She was in love with somebody else.
Cain released the lever. He’d come too late.
His entire body numb, he walked back to the door that led to the tunnel. When he reached it, he rested his forehead against it, feeling the cool surface against his skin. Could he really blame her? She’d thought him dead for a year. She had to get on with her life.
Yet that thought was no comfort to him. Although Cain had no memory of her or the love they’d shared, he knew instinctively that had Faye died instead of him, he would have grieved the rest of eternity for her. Yet she had given herself to another man a mere year after his death.
However, nothing of this would change anything now. He’d come so far and wouldn’t turn back. This was his old life, and he would reclaim it. And he’d be damned if he wouldn’t mount a fight to win Faye’s love back, because one thing was clear: in his dream he’d loved her. Having seen her in the arms of his brother only moments earlier made his heart clench in pain, a pain he had no trouble identifying: he was jealous.
With purpose in his mind, Cain lifted his head and opened the door to the tunnel, leaving the corridor behind him.
He let his gaze roam, but only emptiness greeted him.
“John?” he whispered.
But John was gone.
10
Faye felt Abel’s lips on hers and tried to let herself go. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t do this. Kissing Abel was nothing like kissing Cain.
She pressed her hands against Abel’s shoulders and pushed him back, not forcefully, yet determined. She wasn’t ready for intimacy with him. Would she ever be ready?
Abel’s eyes blazed at her with unchecked lust, his fangs already extended. Had she never met his brother, she would have found him attractive, handsome even. And maybe she would be able to fall in love with him. But the moment she’d laid eyes on Cain, her heart had spoken, and she’d known even then that she could never love another.
Faye averted her eyes and stepped back. A low growl came from him, confirming that his vampire side was ruling him in this moment. She sensed his displeasure physically, felt the waves of annoyance rolling off him. Could she blame him? No. After all, she’d accepted his proposal, and they didn’t live in the Middle Ages where intimacy before the wedding night was unacceptable. This was the twenty-first century, and sex was expected, particularly by a virile vampire like Abel.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I can’t. Not yet. It’s all happening too quickly.”