Page 7 of Battle for the Shadow Prince (A Bargain with the Shadow Prince #2)

7

Garden of Dreams

DAMIEN

“ D rink from me,” Valeska orders.

It’s still dark, but dawn isn’t far off. Too bad the stars that shine through the open roof of the silo don’t bring me any peace. I’m back in the sunlight cuffs, sitting on the bed. Valeska grips the back of my head with her nails and presses her wrist to my lips.

It’s tempting. My tongue is a leather stump. My head throbs. It’s been twenty-four hours baking in this silo with its sunlight walls and open dome. How have I survived? My blood grits through my veins like shards of broken glass. One bite. Just a nip and Valeska’s blood could sustain me, perhaps even make me strong enough to find a way out of this mess. As it is, I am dying. My body, made mortal by the sunlight, is starving, growing weaker by the minute.

“Drink!” she orders again, and this time she raises her wrist to her mouth and scores the skin with her own teeth. The scent of fresh blood hits me square in the face, my nostrils flaring and my fangs extending. My lips tremble, and I have to close my eyes to keep from striking.

Just a taste , comes a voice at the back of my head. No one will know. No one would blame you anyway for drinking the blood in your current state.

But then I hear my father’s voice, the king’s voice. “Beware food or drink offered by your enemy. At best, it is meant to make you dependent. At worst, it is drugged to make you compliant. Nothing good comes from accepting sustenance from one who would kill or enslave you.”

He knew better than anyone. He’d earned that wisdom. Captured by the dark elves of Willowgulch, he’d been poisoned by sunlight magic and kept so weak that he couldn’t even stand by the time we recovered him. Once he was home, Father rarely talked about those days, but the only way to hold a shade is by light. He’d lived through what I am going through now. If he could survive, so can I.

I turn my head to the side.

“You stubborn fool,” she hisses, then slaps me across the cheek. Pain explodes through my eye and jaw, her vampire strength so much more than mine with my wrists bound in sunlight.

I open my eyes and glare up at her with all the hate I can load into a stare.

I will die before she gets a single clue from me about my mate’s identity.

She bares her teeth. “Fucking pigheaded fool.” She seethes. “I will break you. Mark my words.” She spits on me, and it slides down the side of my face. And then she’s gone, and I’m left with the Kims again as the sky lightens above us.

I study the twins. Tae and Lang look like hell. Dark crescents stain the skin under their eyes. As they perform that strange magical dance they did at the end of last night again, I notice this time that it takes both of them to complete it. My cuffs fade away, replaced by the steady glow of the silo walls. Hmm. Keeping this place lit up like a Christmas tree must cost them a heavy toll of magic. I speculate that one of them must be awake at all times to keep the lights on. I doubt they could make this happen passively.

My lips crack with my smile. If the magic containing me takes two witches to maintain, all I have to do is kill one of them to free myself. I might not be strong enough to overpower Valeska in the state I’m in, but a witch? Maybe.

The Kims wobble as they exit my cell, and my smile grows wider. No, they can’t keep this up forever. Hell, if I survive long enough, one of them might magically burn out without me doing anything. A few minutes in the darkness and I’m gone, never to return.

Until that happens, there’s nothing I can do but conserve my strength. I’ve inspected every inch of this cell, and there is no weakness to exploit. I’ll have to find another way.

I wedge myself under the mattress again, easing as far into the shade as possible. Shutting my eyes and turning my face away from the burning light, I try to forget the raging pain along the parts of me exposed to the sun. Sleep is even more important in this mortal, starving body. With measured breaths, I will my muscles to relax until my mind floats on the dark river toward unconsciousness.

Blackness gives way to the deep green of a shaded garden. The bright moon of Tenebris, oversized on the horizon, shines in the sky above me. The sweet, heady scent of trailing veritas, a vine from my world with neon-violet, orchidlike flowers, grows along the trellis behind me. I sit up from the stone bench I’m lying on, run my hands through my hair. That’s when I realize my horns, talons, and wings are gone. I’m in my corse form, my polite form, the way we often appeared in the kingdom during times of peace.

It’s been years since I’ve dreamed of this garden. I rise and turn toward the castle with its white marble spires and stained-glass windows. I wonder if it still looks like this, like I remember, or if the dark elves have breached our boundaries and leveled it. I wonder if my parents and siblings are still alive and if my younger brother Brahm crawled into a bottle permanently after I left. I wonder if my sister Karyl was married off to another kingdom that could offer security. I frown at the memories. It was a lifetime ago. Lifetimes. Everything must be different now, after so many centuries.

“Damien?”

I whirl to find Eloise standing among the night-blooming roses and midnight lilies. “And just like that, a good dream becomes a great one,” I mumble to myself, thanking every god in the Darklands for this even if it isn’t real. I rake my gaze down her long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. Focusing, I picture a sheer white kimono, held in place by a silk bow.

Her clothing transforms effortlessly. Fuck , she’s even more beautiful than I remember, her red curls wild past her shoulders, the darker flesh around the tips of her breasts visible through the robe. At my command, candelabras appear around the garden, outfitted with red candles that flicker in the moonlight.

Now this is a dream worth having.

She looks down at herself, her lips parting in an expression that falls just short of a smile. Isn’t that always the way with my little bird, always flying from trouble straight into my arms. No doubt that big heart of hers has been her downfall again. What tragedy will my mind produce to bring her to me this time? She’s already mine, but I’ll play. I’ll enjoy every minute of it.

“Damien,” she says, reaching for me. “I don’t know how long we have.”

I swagger toward her, a cool night breeze surrounding us with the scent of roses. Our eyes meet, and I see her breath catch in her throat. Slowly I trail two fingers along her full bottom lip, her jaw, the pulse of her left artery. Down, down, lower. Between her breasts where the sleek edge of the robe wraps silkily around the edge of my fingers along with the weight and warmth of her breasts.

Her chin lifts on a throaty moan, her lids growing heavy. “Oh my God, I forgot how overwhelming it feels to be near you,” she says softly. “But we need to talk.” She grabs the sides of my face like she’s trying to get my attention.

I don’t want to talk, and this is my dream. I capture her mouth with my own, circling her waist with my hands. My tongue explores the map of her mouth, her teeth, her tongue, the inside of her cheeks, ignoring her tiny protests. There isn’t a single part of her I don’t want to taste.

With a leisurely tug, I unfasten her belt, and the robe parts between us.

“Damien…” she protests breathlessly.

Palming the back of her head, I massage the base of her skull, carefully calibrating my touch to the intensity that makes her breath draw lazily into her lungs and the naked front of her body stretch against me. I move my kisses to her ear, her throat, carefully kindling the fire within her. Her spine is a string of pearls. I drag my touch along one mound, then the next. Slowly, seductively.

“Oh my God, you feel so good. But listen, I need to… I need to…” Her hands are in my hair, her breath against my chest. She’s smaller than me, my little bird, but I don’t mind bending to her height. Wouldn’t mind falling to my knees and tasting her. My hands smooth over her ass, gently coaxing her feet apart. Her breath catches.

“Damien, please, listen to me. Please .” Something in her voice gives me pause, dream or not, and I draw back to look at her. Fuck, the peaks of her full breasts are clearly visible through the gauzy fabric and the robe is open, giving me a delectable view of warm, naked flesh from the hollow of her throat to her glistening sex.

A possessive growl rumbles in my chest. My cock throbs to be inside her, but I’m distracted by a sound. A persistent ticking fills the garden. I search for the source.

“Damien,” she says again, and there’s a note of exasperation in her voice. The ticking grows louder. There! I spot the grandfather clock from Eloise’s parlor at the edge of the walkway. My eyes narrow at the annoyance, and I try to send it away in the same way I changed Eloise’s clothes and lit the candles, but it persists.

“This doesn’t belong,” I whisper, my throat suddenly as raspy and dry as it is in real life.

“It’s me.” Eloise grabs me by the face again, looking desperate now. “I drank a potion to journey into your dream. I’m here. This is really me.”

I shuffle away from her. Is this some kind of trick by the Kims? Some new torture? Now they’re using my mind against me.

She holds out her hand. “I’ve been doing everything in my power to get you back. I even went to see Morpheus.”

“Morpheus?” My mind scrambles for an explanation. “What cursed magic is this?” I look around myself. “If this is a trick, I will never give up her name. Not even in my dreams.”

“It’s not a trick.” She brings a hand to her sternum. “Morpheus told me the vampire queen took you, but he won’t help me get you back. Where are you? How can I help get you out?” Her eyes line with silver.

Is it possible this is really happening? I have no experience with astral projection, but all my senses tell me that Eloise is with me. Her body, her scent, it’s too familiar. Too perfect. She moves closer. I jerk back.

Her brow furrows. “It’s me, Eloise.” Her hand flattens against her bare chest, then presses against mine, right over my heart. “Oh God, Damien, I’ve missed you so much. I found the spell in my parents’ grimoire. Maeve helped me with the ingredients.” She gestures behind her. “The grandfather clock is my anchor so that I can find my way back to the parlor. I don’t know how long this will last. You need to tell me how we can help you.”

“Eloise?” No one in Valeska’s camp would know about the parlor or the clock or her real name. Even if they’d discovered her identity, they couldn’t reproduce her in my mind like this. Her soft curves, her luscious pomegranate-and-narcissus scent.

Her eyes widen. “Yes! It’s me.”

“My mate.” I draw her into my arms again, hugging her to me as my eyes burn with an onslaught of emotions. Longing, fear for her safety, desperation to get back to her, love, need. I can’t sort them all.

My mouth finds hers again, but she cuts the kiss short. “I don’t want to stop, but I have to know where to find you. Tell me. I’ll… I’ll find help to come for you.”

“Come for me?” When I realize she’s serious, I take her by the shoulders, scowling at the thought. “No, little bird. You must not come for me under any circumstances.”

“Little bird?” She releases a sharp breath, the line between her brows growing more pronounced. “What happened to calling me little dragon?”

“When the sky is as large as the universe, even dragons look like little birds against it.”

“I freed you, Damien. I killed Tony. I… I have magic. I just need help or maybe the right spell?—”

“No!” I say firmly. “I know you are powerful, my mate. The strongest woman I’ve ever met. But your power will not save you against Valeska. She has an entire hive of vampires at her mercy. You will never reach me alive if you try. Do you understand that?”

She shoves out of my grip, her expression souring with mounting rage. “I can if you tell me where you are! I’ll use the key. I’ll pass through the underworld and come to you. The same symbol can bring us back.”

I squeeze my eyes closed. It’s tempting to ask her to try the spell. The thought of having her in my arms again in real life fills me with deep yearning. Only, it’s pure fantasy. She’d never make it back out. Nothing, absolutely nothing, trumps a shade’s instinct to protect their mate. No matter how seductive the idea of a possible escape is, I won’t risk Eloise for anything, even my freedom.

“Once you were with me, you’d have to redraw the symbol and offer it blood.” I extend my hands, appealing to her sense of reason. “Even if you were strong enough to perform the spell twice in a short time, you’d never get the chance to open the way home. I am heavily guarded, always surrounded by vampires at night and witches during the day.”

“Witches?” Her face tightens. “Who? Maybe Maeve can do something on our end.”

“A family called the Kims. They’re sun wielders. That’s why I haven’t returned to you. They keep me caged in sunlight at all times.”

Her face tightens and her lips start to tremble. “The Kims. I’ll tell her. But there must be something more. I won’t accept that there is nothing I can do to help you. What about your friend Cassius?”

My brow lifts at the sound of Cassius’s name. If anyone could help me, it would be him, but I don’t want Eloise doing anything that might alert Valeska to her identity. She’s already risked far too much visiting with Morpheus, and if I didn’t trust the shade more than almost anyone, I’d be telling her to run and hide right now.

I take a deep breath and stroke her hair back from her face. “You have the most beautiful heart and the purest soul, little bird. Do you ever think of yourself first?”

“All the time. That’s why I take care of the people I love, because they mean the most to me.”

I laugh softly and draw her into my arms again. I press my lips to the top of her head. Is the ticking growing louder? Or do I only now realize this is no ordinary dream and our time together could end at any moment? I can’t lie to my mate, and I’ve already shared more information about my predicament than I wish for her to know. My only hope is to distract her. “Can you guess where we are now? Here, in my dream?”

The question serves its purpose, and at least for the moment she gives up on her quest for information. She turns around, taking in the flowers, the trees, the stone benches partially covered in blooming vines.

“I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t recognize any of these plants aside from the roses, although I’ve never seen ones this color before.” She cradles an amethyst bud in her palm.

“Careful of the thorns. They hurt just as much as the ones in your garden. Perceptive of you to notice about the flowers. Roses are one of the few varieties that are the same on Tenebris as on Earth, although they’re more frequently purple where I come from.”

She releases the flower and walks the periphery of my dreamscape. “It’s beautiful.” She whirls back to me, a ghost of a smile breaking through her former stormy expression. “This is what your world looks like? What you dressed like there?” She gestures toward my royal garb, black pants and a wrapped tunic.

I look down at myself. “It is when I’m not in battle. This form is considered more socially appropriate, or you might say diplomatic. As for the garden, this is the one behind the castle where I was raised. At least how I remember it. When I was summoned to Earth by the Gowdies, we were at war. I have no idea how much of this place remains.” I approach her from behind and wrap an arm around her shoulders. Drawing her back to my front, I point toward the sky.

“A supermoon.” She sighs. “It’s beautiful.”

“No. That’s how the moon looks every day on Tenebris.”

“Don’t you mean every night?” She rests her soft curls against me.

“No. This is day here. Our galaxy works differently than yours.”

She looks again at the amethyst roses and reaches out to run a finger along the petals. “I don’t have time for a lecture on the astronomy of Tenebris.” She turns in my arms to face me, sighing heavily. “I pray I have the chance to see your world in person someday, but after what happened, I regret not going with you when I had the chance.”

I nuzzle the side of her face. “You weren’t ready. You were right to want to stay and practice your magic.”

“A lot of good it’s doing me if I can’t use it to get you back.”

I brush my lips along her ear, inhale the scent of her hair. “Give me time. I’ll find my way home to you.”

The clock chimes. “We don’t have much time.”

The beat of her heart grows louder, her fear and yearning bringing her blood to the surface of her skin. I run my nose along the side of her neck. “There is one thing you can do for me.”

“What? Anything.”

“I need your blood. It will make me stronger and increase my chances of freeing myself.”

Without hesitation, she sweeps her red curls over her shoulder, offering her vein. “Will it work? We’re inside a dream. Is my blood anything more than thoughts?”

I turn her to face me. “I don’t know. I’m not familiar with this magic. But I can smell your blood. You feel real.”

“Then take it.” She waits, head tipped, the warm skin of her throat exposed like a dish of cream.

I lower my lips to her flesh and breathe her in. “Do you think I’ll simply strike, little bird, and take your blood like I would a goat’s? Oh no. You are too delicious a meal not to savor.”

Her pulse ratchets faster, and a sensuous shiver travels the length of her body. I brush a knuckle between her breasts and over her navel. Her breath stutters. When my fingers reach the apex of her thighs, I find her drenched. My erection turns valiantly hard. Gods, the feel of her slick folds makes my cock drool to be inside her. I’m hungry, starving for her blood, but if I’m going to take her vein, I’m going to do it while I’m in her and she’s screaming my name.

She moans into my mouth as I dip my fingers inside her, cupping her sweet pussy and massaging the underside of her clit. I bend lower, my tongue finding her breast, sucking the tight nub. I bite gently until I hear her gasp.

The clock ticks louder. “The clock. We’re running out of time,” she whispers breathlessly.

“Then I’ll need you to come faster.” I drop to my knees and replace my fingers with my tongue, sucking and licking, eating her like the starving man I am. The taste of her almost makes me weep. Her chest flushes, her nipples hard pearls that I take between my fingers.

Her pleasure sweeps through her hard and fast as a clap of thunder. She cries out, gripping my shoulders as if I’m the only thing holding her to the earth. But I’m already on my feet, my clothes gone as fast as I can think it. I lift her, dragging her up my body. Her soft curves meld against all my hard edges as her legs wrap around my hips.

I’m at her entrance, her slick need welcoming me inside, and I can’t hold myself back any longer. My foot finds purchase on the bench and I unleash myself on her, filling her again and again with sharp, quick thrusts. She cries out as another orgasm seizes her. I support her back as she arches over the bench and I run my palm along her sternum until my fingers wrap gently around her throat.

Mine .

Her pulse thrums against my fingers. Warm. Alive.

Mine.

With her body sheathing me, I’m on the verge of ecstasy.

I pull her flush against my chest, enjoying how each of my thrusts makes her breasts swell between us. “You’re mine, little bird,” I say against her throat.

“Yours,” she answers, her voice laden with promise.

And then I strike.

My fangs sink into her throat. This might be a dream, but her blood is thick and warm and real. It is all the heavens of all the worlds wrapped into one. I swallow her down, the taste, the power she feeds into my veins pushing me over the edge. I empty myself inside her, gulping down what she so freely gives me even as her body constricts around me, her hips grinding, driving me deeper.

The clock ticks again, louder, and then stops. Our eyes meet, hers wide and desperate.

“I love you, little bird. I will find a way back to you.”

She and the clock fade like blown smoke.

I wake under the mattress, the light sizzling against my exposed skin. A warrior never weeps. Tears are a waste of energy. But I gnash my teeth at the loss of her, burying my wail in the filthy fabric. Only when I gain control again do I notice a change.

I’m no longer hungry.

Eloise might have been a dream, but my body tells me her blood was real enough. The question is, will it be enough to gain the upper hand against Valeska.