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"You have a wife, you had a child, you're some fucking Prince? Are you still married; will I be sharing you, my Fated mate, with some chick?" Cooper was on the edge of tears, but he refused to break down. His anger was compelling him to stay strong and get his answers.
"I am not married, and yes, I had a wife many centuries ago, but it was arranged as things were in that day. She did not love me, and I did not love her. It was convenient and for procreation. I was expected to produce the next heir, and that was the only purpose of our marriage." He sounded sincere, but Cooper was afraid his need for this to be okay was coloring his judgment.
“I am no longer married, she died long ago, and I believe she remarried after my fall from grace and our split.”
"I'm sorry about you, son," Cooper added, knowing the death of a child would have been unbearable.
"Thank you." Edward tentatively reached over and put his hand over Coopers. Cooper did not brush it away. Cooper turned and looked at him squarely, locking gazes and seeing the pain in Edwards's eyes.
“What happened to you?” He asked softly and turned his hand over to grip Edward’s in support.
Edward had not shared this in a very long time. The only ones who knew of his descent into hell were those who had lived beside him, and most of them were now dead except for Louis, Ismael, and Batiste. They knew him at one time and his family and his torment. Now Cooper, his sweet, innocent beloved, will also know it was difficult finding the words to begin, but he did, and he started with his son Edward.
"I was on a campaign in northern France. My wife had returned to her family in Kent, and I left my darling boy in the care of people I trusted to look out for him who would protect and defend him." Edward felt the old pain and emotions coming back, but with less ferocity, they were there, but they weren't destroying him.
"When I returned to England, I was told that Edward had taken ill, so I rushed to his bedside only to find a young boy who had been eaten away by neglect and abuse. He told me what he endured, and with each word, my mind became blacker until all thought was obscured by the need to make them pay for what they'd done to my son. Edward died in my arms that day, and so did the man who was known as Prince Edward, The Prince of Wales. I became something else. In that moment, I became the Black Prince." He paused for a few seconds as he settled the pain of that loss once again in his mind.
“My life turned into a series of brutal battles, searching out each and every person responsible for what happened to my sweet little boy. No one escaped my blade. When they were all dead, I could not stop, and the depth of the evil to which I'd descended would not release me, and honestly, I did not fight it. My life continued as one bloody battle after another, with no mercy, no reprieve, only death, and emptiness. I looked forward to my own death and tried on many occasions to hasten the process, but I was never allowed to rest." Edward felt Cooper moving closer and leaning into him, and the contact was bringing him peace and calming his mind.
“As punishment for my actions and my refusal to stop or even slow down, I was cursed. I don't know who put it in place, and it really doesn't matter; I deserved what they settled upon me. For what they described as my blood lust, I was made into a creature who survives on blood, and for my desire to rest and leave this dimension, I was given immortality.” Edward remembered the sinking feeling of suffering he experienced and the knowledge that he would live with his loss and his deeds forever.
Cooper never commented or interrupted; he simply held him and listened and gave him the strength to keep going. Whatever changed or whatever he did to be given such a treasure, he did not know, but this right here was worth the last seven hundred years of silence, restitution, contemplation, and renewal.
"I leaned into my new existence, becoming even worse and darker if that was even possible. I believed my life was over, and I was lost, so there were no limits put on me. My father cut me off, disavowed my actions and existence but also pleaded for me to come home and make right what had gone so horribly wrong. He begged for me to return until the day he died, and on that day, the last person who loved me was gone. I was completely alone, and I became a monster." Edward stopped for a breath, and Cooper spoke.
"I'm sorry for your pain, and I am sorry for your loss, but you're not that man any longer. I feel your thoughts and emotions. I know you like no one else ever has, and you are not a monster. You are mine, and you are magnificent, and I love you. You are not alone any longer." There was nothing Cooper could have said that would have touched him deeper or affected him more than those few words.
"I love you too, sweetheart, more than I ever thought possible." He couldn't stop himself and pulled Cooper close for a tender kiss that spoke to all the things he was feeling, most of which spoke to the gratitude he felt for having been given a second chance.
"My mind began to clear, and my heart softened, and one day, I allowed a man to live, and that man prayed for me. That was when the restoration of my soul began, and that was seven hundred years ago. I disappeared, went into hiding here in this desolate land in this castle of magic and memories, and I waited, and one day Fate smiled upon me." He turned and took Cooper's lips in another passionate kiss.
They sat there on the bench holding one another, feeling the bond of their union growing strong and their understanding of one another becoming complete. Cooper pushed his wild auburn hair out of his face and looked up at Edward with love and what looked like adoration, but Edward feared assuming too much. "We're good, Edward; you and I are good." He swore, and Edward breathed relief and pulled him back into his arms.
"You are my treasure, and I swear to love, honor, provide and protect until the end of our days or simply forever." Edward closed his eyes and squeezed him flush to his chest. "You are my redemption."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Louis rushed to Ezra, who lay motionless on the ground and picked him up into his arms. "What have you done to my beloved?" He shouted and moved toward the mist that lay thick at the edge of the hedge garden. Ismael, Silas, and the guards stood by watching and waiting but could see no one.
"He's been poisoned, but he's not dead yet." Came the sickening tone of evil. The figure walked out of the mist along with some small, hideously deformed creatures. They scurried around like vermin but were repelled by the swords of the Cyprians. The leader, dressed in a robe that resembled skin, looked up at Louis with a foul toothless grin. Evil was never generous with creatures such as these. The rot on the inside was often mirrored on the outside.
“I will cure him, but you must satisfy me first.” The thing stated in the same slimy tone.
"What do you want?" Louis asked, his rage barely in check. The being could end Ezra with a mere thought, so he had to restrain himself and get answers. He had to buy time.
"I want the mage, and you have till midnight to bring him here. When you present him to me, I will cure your beloved Ezra. If you fail, Ezra dies." He ended with a sharp screech and faded into the mist. A few of the small creatures advanced on them, and they were cut down. It afforded some satisfaction but not enough.
Louis silently carried Ezra back to the palace and laid him upon the chaise lounge on the terrace off the great room. "How do we find the Black Prince?" Ismael asked, desperate to do something. "We should have killed that swine where he stood.”
Louis knelt down next to Ezra and held his hand. "the poison would kill Ezra if we had moved against the warlock. We need him to remove the curse, and then we kill him."
"I'll call for Batiste. He knows where the Prince resides." Ismael offered.
"How do we ask him to offer up his beloved to save mine?" Louis said softly and smoothed his fingertips down the side of Ezra's pale cheek marveling at the gentle beauty of his sweet love. Neither Ismael nor Silas wanted to contemplate what would happen if Louis lost Ezra. The fallout would be catastrophic and reminiscent of the fall of Prince Edward or maybe worse.
"We bring the mage and set a trap for the warlock," Silas suggested, and Louis turned to look at him with the fire back in his eyes. A plan all they needed was a plan.
“We set a trap.” Louis echoed and then added. “If Ezra dies, there is not a magic on this earth who will be safe from my wrath.”
