Dark Princess: Shadows (The Children Of The Gods Paranormal Romance #89)

4. Brandon

4

brANDON

A fter Kian left, Brandon returned to Morelle's room and settled into the chair by her bed.

"Hi. I'm back," he said, "It's been quite a day. Your brother's mate is transitioning, we've got a rogue compeller on our hands, and here you are, still sleeping through it all." He chuckled. "I don't suppose you'd consider waking up and adding to the excitement?"

Morelle remained still, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Brandon sighed, leaning back in his chair. "No rush," he murmured. "But when you do wake up, I hope to be here. Someone needs to catch you up on seven thousand years of history, right? And let's face it, I tell a much better story than any of my brethren or a dusty old history book. I can turn it into a script and make it come alive in your imagination. Actually, that's not a bad idea. I should produce a series called Seven Thousand Years . Nah, that's a lame title. I need something catchier."

He settled in, preparing for a long night even though no one expected him to stay.

In fact, he probably shouldn't.

Morelle wasn't his mate, and it might be improper for him to stay with her as if he had a claim on her. On the other hand, Kian had Guardians posted outside the clinic because he suspected someone might harbor ill intentions toward her and her brother, so having an additional layer of security would probably be appreciated.

Not that he was much of a fighter. He had given the Guardian force a half-hearted try in his youth, but he had quickly realized that he enjoyed entertaining his fellow Guardians much more than sparring with them.

Still, he just wanted to stay.

There was no one waiting for him at home, and he could do his brainstorming for ideas right here next to Morelle's bed while telling her all about it and helping to stimulate her mind.

His gift was turning anything he talked about into a fascinating story, and he could talk for hours. That was one of the things that made him such a successful producer. The problem was that the public around him had changed in ways he hadn't foreseen, and the material they wanted to consume was getting dumber and dumber. The plots he had seen approved for production recently would have been thrown out only a couple of decades ago, but today's viewing public didn't want to watch anything that engaged their minds or challenged their beliefs. They wanted the same crap shoved down their throats and said, 'Thank you, we want more.'

It was disheartening.

His chances of producing a history series for any of the main networks were nil unless he used thralling, and that was against the rules. Besides, it would flop, and then he wouldn't be able to produce anything more anyway.

Even if he gave the series a satiric twist, it might still not get green-lighted because there was no audience for it.

Hell, who cared?

He had a captive audience of one.

Brandon wondered what Morelle would be like when she finally opened her eyes. Would she be anything like her twin brother?

Ell-rom seemed intelligent, regal, and kind—a good guy who no one felt threatened by. For some reason, Brandon had a feeling that Morelle would be much more commanding, and that was fine by him. He liked assertive females, as long as they weren't too stuck-up and full of themselves, and most importantly, they had to be not only smart but also open-minded.

Too many people were stuck in the little boxes they created for themselves or that others had created for them. Even the smartest of humans often felt more comfortable inside their little mind enclosures than risking independent and critical thinking that might alienate their friends.

There was comfort in conformity.

" Millennia: The Story of Us . Now, that's a catchy title. What do you think?"

There was no change in Morelle's expression. Perhaps he could pop into the next room over and ask Ell-rom what he thought of it?

"Nah, first I have to come up with a list."

Brandon pulled out his phone and opened it to his note application.

" Eons Unfolded ." He wrote another title and then lifted his gaze to Morelle. "No, nothing? I thought this was a good one. How about Chronicles of a Civilization ?"

There was no response. "Can't blame you, Princess. They all sound lame. I need a title that will tickle people's curiosity." He chuckled. "Unfortunately for me, A Game of Thrones is taken."

As he looked at Morelle's peaceful expression once more, he had the absurd urge to kiss her full lips, but even though it sounded great in a fairytale kind of way, doing so without her consent would be a violation. He wouldn't even dare to kiss her forehead.

The most he would allow himself was to hold her hand.

"You need to wake up, Morelle, and tell me that you want me to kiss you, or just take the initiative and kiss me. I'm easy. I know it's absurd, but since you probably can't hear me, I can allow myself flights of fancy."

Sighing, he looked down at his notes and added two more short titles. " Epochs and Timeline s. I like Epochs . I should test it on InstaTock. Imagine being able to step into key moments of the past, to see and feel what it was like. I wonder what Ell-rom would think of that idea."

He thought about the stories he would tell Morelle and the wonders of modern Earth he would describe. There was so much to share, so much that had changed since the settler ship had embarked on its journey through the galaxy. And yet, in many ways, the fundamental struggles of humanity remained the same, just on a much bigger scale.

In the grand scheme of things, there was nothing new under the sun, but on the personal level, the Fates sometimes delivered surprises, like a sleeping hybrid princess whose mystery and beauty captivated him.

It was like something out of a fantasy novel.

Hell, it would be a great script for a sci-fi movie.