The Consort Of House Marasarah

23

When the great doors were closed behind him, Massillon released a labored breath he hadn't realised he was holding in. The urge to fall apart washed over him, and he had to fight the need to break down. He hadn't been this emotional in a long time, not since the morning of his mother's death.

"Fucking hell!" Massillon swore aloud.

This was madness. She was just a female, and he refused to grieve like this over a female he barely knew. She wasn't his mate, and she wasn't ever going to be. He needed to stop having this ridiculous reaction. It was lust and nothing more. He liked fucking the female, and that was it!

He supposed, in some twisted way this was a blessing, after all Raphael would call soon and demand an end to his courtship, Massillon would oblige his request because what other choice was there if the female now wanted nothing to do with him and his apparent rage issues, and then he could move on with his life. What sane male wanted his daughter anywhere near a male as powerful as Massillon, who couldn't control himself. A dark thing Massillon had been trying to ignore rose up at the idea that someone would keep Isalinah from him. The rage there was inky black and possessive. Very possessive. Isalinah belonged to Massillon. His rational mind knew that thoughts like these needed to be suppressed, but the reality of losing her was more than he could take.

The beautiful table lamp was across the room and smashing against the painted wall before his mind could process the action taken.

"Gods above!" Screamed an overly dramatic female voice.

His oldest cousin and heir apparent stepped into the room from the hidden hallway. The Lady Giavanna Marasar was a tall female with blond hair and light brown eyes. She looked more like Massillon's mother each time he saw her. Her likeness, once a source of pride had, overnight, become one of distress to Massillon's immediate family. His father either clung to Gia or refused to even suffer her presence in his home. This had placed quite a bit of strain on the cousins who, along with Markus, had always been close.

"Shit!" Massillon swore under his breath.

"I didn't know you were here."

Gia had the freest access to his personal space. These were his private office and study which held a well-hidden door with a narrow hallway that led to his private chambers where his bed chambers were. The shelves of the study was constructed in a special pattern that used light and shade to obscure the location of the hallway. One simply had to know its location or spend a long time searching for it. This was only one of the entrances to his bed-chamber, and the official one was also well guarded by another two highguards. His bed chambers are extremely private, and entry without invitation was punishable by death without trial. Gia could enter this private study, the hidden hallway, and any of the small rooms attached but could not go any farther.

He pushed his hands into his face at the sound of her approaching footsteps. Gods be damned, he thought; she had been waiting here for him. Gia was dressed in a lovely white gown and looked angelic. Her steps slowed as she came closer and took him in.

"I wanted to see you and Markus, but I can see this isn't the best time." Gia stated with more than a bit of uncertainty.

"Maybe I should go--" Gia stated.

" No, stay!" Massillon insisted, going over to his cousin, grabbing her much smaller hand and leading her deeper into the study and towards the liquor cabinets. He had just had Markus ripped from his side, and Gia had shown up like an angel to save him.

"I shall send my regards to Stefano because he will have to come get you after we are done, I plan to drown my sorrows the old fashion way," Massillon paused for dramatic effect and to pull the right bottle of liquor out of the cabinet, "with French brandy."