After some thought, she’d realized magic could not change a person’s feelings. He had never welcomed his captors; and had they possessed the ability to force the issue, they would have.
Though she was exhausted, falling asleep proved difficult. Her back had scabbed, and those scabs pulled and reopened with her every movement. And her legs… Without her morning jogs and physical therapy, her legs were stiffening up more and more frequently, aching and throbbing. She could practically feel atrophy setting up camp in her muscles.
What she wouldn’t give for a handful of painkillers.
At least she didn’t have to dread the approach of the sun. Their very first night here, she’d constructed a big, leafy canopy above the small site. Nicolai had claimed he wouldn’t burst into flame with ultraviolet contact, but she wasn’t willing to risk it. Granted, the sun here was muted, always shaded by clouds, and not nearly as hot as she’d experienced back home. But in her world, she had witnessed other vamps burning to ash. Maybe even one of his friends.
Stomach cramp. She wouldn’t let herself go there.
Also, the canopy offered them camouflage from the enemy, hiding them from prying eyes. As proud as she was of her efforts, they’d so far been unnecessary. Laila and her men had never even marched past.
Most likely they weren’t even looking for the escapee, the princess expecting Nicolai to walk himself straight back to her bed.
Bed. Exactly where Jane wanted Nicolai. A soft mattress underneath him, Jane on top of him, her nails digging into his chest as she balanced. A tantalizing rush of desire poured through her, and she moaned.
Nicolai was right beside her. He could wake up at any moment and realize what she yearned for. But…maybe another sex fantasy was in order. For his sake. After all, she had to be disturbing him, rolling around like this. And last time, she’d fallen asleep the moment she’d climaxed.
Yes, for Nicolai’s sake, she thought dazedly, inhibitions crumbling as she imagined the hard thrust of him inside her….
A LOW MOAN CAUSED NICOLAI to jolt upright.
Out of habit, he cataloged his surroundings in an instant. The moon was high, golden, the stars bright, winking from their scattered perches. Ghost trees swayed against a cool, sultry breeze. A river rushed along a pebbled bank.
His brows drew together with confusion. He was enveloped by the sweetest scent of passion…fading…and the ripe scent of pain…intensifying. Who was in—?
Another low, female moan sounded, broken and harsh. His attention whipped to the left, down. Jane. Jane lay beside him. And gods above, she was practically naked. Her only covering was a tiny scrap of white material between the apex of her thighs.
He should remove it. With his teeth.
Instantly his fangs ached. A familiar sensation in her presence. For a moment, he could only drink in the sight of her, his gaze greedy. Her breasts were small, her nipples pink as berries and beaded deliciously. Her stomach hollowed, showcasing every single one of her ribs.
Clearly she had been hungry for a long time. He would feed her, he thought, delighted by the very idea. She would never lack for food again. Would eat from his hand. Only the very best morsels, too. She would close her eyes at the succulent taste, savor every nibble, groan in joy when he sampled the meal with her, and then directly from her.
While blood was the source of his life, he needed food, as well. Perhaps because he was not fully vampire. He had a witch for a mother, and—
A witch for a mother?
Pain sliced through him, and he nearly pounded his fist into the ground. Not again. Frustration ate at him.
Then he spied the scars on Jane’s abdomen, and thoughts of offering her the choicest of meats fled, right along with thoughts of his family. Hunger of a different nature asserted itself. He ached to commit murder. Those scars…Dark Abyss… He’d known she had them, but not how many or how deeply they cut her.
From her navel down, she looked as if she’d been sliced up and sewn back together by a blind weaver. Thick, red scars crisscrossed in every direction, badges of pain most in the world would probably never experience.
How had she survived whatever had been done to her?
Whoever had hurt her would die, just as the guards who touched her had.
She deserved pampering. Not just the food from his table, but gowns of rich velvet and a bed of the finest goose feathers. Never would she work. She would relax, enjoy, perhaps spend her days naked, lounging in his bedroom, and her nights sweat soaked from passion.
He would feast from her body, her veins. Sample every part of her, dining between her legs at his leisure. Riding her hard and fast, letting her ride him slow and sweet. Taking her in every position imaginable, then perhaps inventing a few. His cock hardened, already aching.
She needs her rest. Needs to heal. Deep breath in, deep breath out. But gods, much more of her incredible scent and he would fall on her, perhaps drink too much of her blood. She was like the morning dew on the petals of a rose, fragile, and he must always be careful with her.
Trembling, he reached out to smooth that honey hair from her brow…. When he saw his hand, he stilled. Turned his palm up to the moonlight. Wiggled his thumb. Healed. He was completely healed; there was no pain.
How much time had passed?
How long had he left Jane unguarded?
He looked around with fresh eyes, astonished by what he found. Enough time had passed for her to construct a hut, weapons, wash her clothing and his body. He was the man, the warrior, yet she had taken care of him.
Mine. Worthy of being queen.
She’d told him she did not have a man waiting for her, and he was glad. Had she, he would have killed the man. Not painfully, not unless the man had once hurt her, but he would have died all the same. After Nicolai found a way into her world. And he would have done so. No one but him would lay claim to this woman, not in any time or in any place.
And if you have someone waiting for you? Someone you’ve forgotten? He frowned, not liking the thought. Fidelity was important. Jane had said as much. He didn’t know a lot about himself, but that he, too, believed.
But…he wanted Jane. And right then, he could not even conceive the idea of wanting anyone else, of being with anyone else. Ever. Truly, every cell in his body burned for Jane, only Jane. Somehow, she was already a part of him. Somehow, her essence was rooted so deeply inside him, he suspected they had always been destined to meet, to be together. But… If someone was waiting for him, what would he do? Despite his fearsome temper, he revered the law and never went back on his word. Right?
Perhaps. But… There was that awful, awful word again. The law, his honor, fidelity, none of those applied to this situation. If he didn’t want another female, he wouldn’t accept another female. He wouldn’t cheat Jane. It was as simple as that.
While he thought himself somewhat decent in this matter, he did not think he fought honorably. He thought he won his battles through fair means or foul, and punished his enemies without a shred of mercy or remorse. Look at what he’d done to the guards of the Queen of Hearts.
And many years ago, he had led his army through the Wolfyn realm, the moon hidden behind clouds, the citizens of one of the kingdoms sleeping peacefully in their beds. He and his men had razed the entire structure. He’d hated to do it, but that hadn’t stopped him. Anything to save his brother….
A sharp pain, his mind shutting down. The memory, lost. For the most part. Once, he’d led an army. He’d thought such a thing before, but now he knew. He had. He’d led them. But…an army of what? Other vampires? Mercenaries? Or had he been royally sanctioned?
The answers were not forthcoming, and he gritted his teeth in renewed frustration.
He focused on the here and now. On Jane. He was willing to fight for her. He wanted her in his life, and she might very well protest. If so, they would verbally brawl and he would do anything to keep her.
At last he smoothed the hair from her cheek and…
She had a black eye.
Nicolai stiffened, rage blooming through him, stronger than ever before. Someone had hit her. Who had dared hit her?
The animal instinct roared to the surface, snarling, desperate for blood.
Calm, he had to remain calm. For now. Was she injured further? As tenderly as he was able, he rolled her to her back. There were no other bruises on her face. The long length of her lashes cast spiky shadows over her cheeks, and he traced them just to be sure. They were smooth, soft and warm. Her lips were puffy and red, as if she’d chewed them from worry.
Didn’t matter. She was beautiful…a priceless work of art.
There were several cuts on her hands, but those came from the making of the blades. He had borne those same cuts on multiple occasions. Another memory, and it came without pain. He did not pursue it. Jane was more important.
Bruises wrapped around her rib cage, stretching from her back, where she’d been whipped. Thankfully, though, she possessed no other battle marks. So. How had she gotten the black eye?
She shifted in her sleep, and another pained groan left her.
Her back must agonize her in this position. He should have left her on her side. Could he never do the right thing where this woman was concerned? He eased back down and gently worked an arm under her shoulder. Then he lifted her until she was plastered to his side, her injuries free of all contact. She burrowed her head in the hollow of his neck and raised her top leg, fitting herself against him like the puzzle piece she’d once praised.
She flattened her hand over his heart, as if measuring the erratic beat against her own. So trusting she was, so trustworthy. She hadn’t left him when she’d had the chance. So forgiving, too. He’d allowed her to be whipped, yet still she’d taken care of him. Had even, he mused, cleaned his teeth. His mouth tasted fresh, like mint.
She groaned again, but this time, oh, this time, there was no pain in her voice. Only pleasure. Such a decadent sound. Instantly his cock stood at attention, filling, hardening, readying. He bit his tongue, his fangs sinking deep into the tissue.
“Nicolai?” Jane breathed sleepily.
“All is well, Jane. Go back to sleep.”
