Darcy Princeton, Knight of Darkness – Part 1

Darcy found himself once again at St. Helena Beach, surfing the big waves. But instead of surfing with his brothers, he was alone, all by himself, surfing but not surfing, and neither was he enjoying himself like he used to. There was something missing. It was as if he were a body without a soul, as if he were breathing but not really breathing, as if his heart kept beating but not really beating.

In the distance, he could see a storm brewing that looked as though it were heading straight toward him. Then he saw the waves—enormous waves—looming over him and then crashing down on him. He fought the current, fought so hard, fought until he was exhausted. Once he managed to reach the surface, he looked around, alone in the vast ocean.

Oh God! The ache within his heart. Why?

Then the scream penetrated his mind—loud, long, and echoing with agony and death. He saw her body falling and then… Splash!

“Sakura!”

He found himself in the angry sea once again, fighting to get to her, fighting to save her. The sea, however, refused him and crashed him off course, smashing him against the edge of a cliff.

* * *

“Sakura!” Darcy yelled her name, his voice hoarse with agony. Suddenly, he found himself sitting up, sweating and panting, his heart thumping hard and furious within his chest.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Darcy shut his eyes. Please calm down, you tormented beast. Please calm down, he told his heart. It was only a nightmare and nothing more.

Oh, how he ached to see that beautiful face again. How he ached to once again see those sparkling dark eyes, that long black hair, the petal-white skin, and those sensuous ruby-red lips. Those lips he’d kissed and sucked and licked.

Darcy threw himself back on the bed, his hand on top of his chest. Still, he could feel his heart thumping furiously beneath his breastbone where his hand rested, as if it were tormented, crying out for its long-lost love.

“Snow,” he whispered under his breath. “My Snow, where could you be?”

It had been almost one year since she’d decided to leave them, since she’d disappeared from their lives—from his life—and left him only a note that simply said:

I will always be your Snow.

I love you.

Sakura

Darcy turned to look at the alarm clock. It said 5:05 a.m. He sighed and turned his attention to the wall across from his bed. He gazed at the full-size poster of Snow White and the Seven Knights he’d designed two years ago. Back then, he hadn’t a clue as to why he’d conjured up that beautiful character of Snow White. He’d always thought the idea of having an interactive game similar to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs would be a new and exciting project and had presented it to Hayden with enthusiasm and energy. It hadn’t been until much later, when he’d met Sakura again that he realized that was never the case.

Snow White had been ingrained in his mind long ago, since he’d first met seven-year-old Sakura.

Sakura had always been Snow to Darcy.

Since they’d released Snow White and the Seven Knights for the world to enjoy, it had gone viral, and Darcy found himself and Hayden had gone from amateurs to two of the top gaming entrepreneurs in the world. The game alone had brought them fame and success beyond belief. Since this last financial year, they’d made at least three billion each in dividends. Darcy, however, wasn’t interested in the money. It had always been the creation and the energy and the hard work he’d put in that kept him in the business.

He got up and headed to the adjoining bathroom. Standing over the sink, he took off his shirt, exposing his fitted, toned, lean muscles that were taut with anxiety and tension. He splashed cold water on his face a couple times to clear his head. That felt much better, he thought and lifted his head to look at himself in the mirror.

The man staring back at him wasn’t the same Darcy who had existed one year ago. This Darcy had matured both physically and mentally. His raven-black hair was stylishly cut, the thick locks nestling lovingly about his neck. The handsome face was now marked with the maturity of a strong jawline, high cheekbones, aquiline nose, and firm lips that rarely smiled. Those mauve-gray eyes of his were now clearer, sharper, and more determined than ever, showing the world this was a man on top of the game, on top of the world. However, if one were to look closer, one would see those eyes were marked with darkness and torment, loneliness and loss.

Darcy was no longer the pretty boy of the Princetons. He was now the dark knight, utterly dangerous and utterly mysterious. That was why so many women flocked to him, flirted with him, and even dared to ask him out. That was why so many women dreamed of becoming his girlfriend, his wife, and dared to stalk him.

Darcy, however, paid them no heed and went about his days working hard on his creations. By night, he’d feel his heart ache as he stared at the hundreds of photos lining the walls of his room. Photos of him and his beloved Snow kissing in the woods, the photos he’d secretly taken that day when they’d kissed under the cherry blossom tree.

He moved his hand to touch his breastbone beneath the muscular chest, caressing the exotic tattoo of the sakura flowers that intertwined and wrapped themselves around the word Snow that only he could read and understand.

Mindlessly, he gazed at the tattoo he’d gotten nine months ago. It was a symbol of Sakura, of his Snow. He wanted to imprint her within his heart always and forever. Hence, every time he stared at the tattoo, he’d see her within his mind’s eye, and his heart would ache for her, for her love, for her warmth, for her kiss, for them to be together.

“Snow,” he whispered, his fingers caressing the tattoo. Instantly, his heart ached even more, and he had to take a deep breath to control himself. Then he splashed more cold water on his face to wake himself up. Once he was done, he headed out the door of his bedroom, out the door of the penthouse apartment he shared with his brothers, and into the private garden outside on the rooftop of the building.

Alone, he tilted his head, allowing the morning breeze to caress his skin as he gazed off at the orange glow of the sun just rising over the city of New York. A gentle breeze swirled around him and petals of cherry blossoms touched his cheek, attracting his attention. He brought his fingers to feel it. Something deep within him stirred. He closed his eyes and then he was there again—little Darcy resting his head on Sakura’s lap as he lay there on the grass, his eyes large, watching her as she stroked his hair.

“Snow? Why do cherry blossoms fall?” he asked, gazing off at the millions of tiny pale pink petals raining on them.

“They are tears of spring, Darce,” she replied, smiling as she, too, gazed up at the swirling flowers that surrounded them. “They tell us spring is here. We’re under this cherry blossom tree, Darce, and we are one.”

He chuckled, grabbed her hand that was still stroking his hair, and held it tight against his chest. “And we share the same thoughts.”

“Yes,” she said. “We are one and we share the same thoughts.”

Darcy took a deep, shaky breath that shook him to his core. “Sakura,” he said softly under his breath. “It’s spring again, sweetheart.”

A few moments later, he was at the indoor pool on the second floor of their private apartment. He stood on the diving platform, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then ran off the board and did a beautiful somersault in midair. He was flying and then falling and then splash!

The moment he was in the water, he took control and swam faster, kicking his powerful legs and propelling his strong arms—racing as if he were being chased.

In the water, he opened his eyes, and in his mind’s eye, he saw the woman he loved drowning. He had to go to her. He had to save her. Sakura, he thought, I will save you.

He flipped, kicked his legs against the wall, and then swam the other way, harder and faster, working his athletic body to the brink of exhaustion.

When finally he was spent, he climbed out of the pool and sat on the edge, staring into space.

“Hey,” a voice said some moments later.

Darcy jolted back to reality and looked up to see his older brother Sebastian standing beside him.

“You’re up early,” Darcy said, flicking back his dark hair.

“You’re even earlier than I am,” Sebastian replied, eyeing the exotic tattoo on Darcy’s chest, right where his heart beat under his breastbone. Did Darcy really love Sakura so much to have a tattoo of something that would remind him of her on his chest?

Sebastian hadn’t been able to believe, still couldn’t believe it in fact, that two brothers were falling in love with the same woman who had happened to run away from them.

The brothers were silent as they stared into space, each in their own thoughts, both thinking about the same woman who had affected them so much. It was a companionable type of silence, and they both were comfortable with it.

A moment later, Sebastian expertly dived into the water.

Darcy watched as his brother swam toward the other side, stroking his powerful arms and kicking his strong legs. He watched Sebastian do a few more laps and decided he had enough and stood. He was heading toward the exit when he met Sosuke Suzuki, their new neighbor, coming in.

“Ohayo.” Sosuke greeted a good-morning in Japanese.

“Ohayo,” Darcy replied, nodding his wet hair at the handsome Japanese man.

Sosuke said, “You’re early, Darcy-san. It is a Saturday after all.”

“It doesn’t matter what day it is,” Nicolas said from the door as he came in. “Darcy will always be up at five.”

Darcy glanced at his eldest brother. “Habit,” he said. “See you at breakfast.” Then he left them.