Page 3 of Dance of the Phoenix (Cloak of the Vampire #3)

Aileen

“So let me get this straight,” I said, thumping my foot restlessly, fear rising in me. “You and ten other vampires from the League will be participating in a life-or-death tournament, and I’m required to fight there as well?”

Ragnor’s eyes followed me quietly, his jaw tight, as he reluctantly nodded.

My hands curled into fists. “This is infuriating.”

“Infuriating it may be, but this is what’s going to happen three weeks from now whether we like it or not,” Ragnor replied in a tight voice. “Rest assured, though, that despite what you may think, participating in the Hecatomb is highly valued.”

I folded my arms, glaring at him. “How so?”

He leaned back, folding his arms, too, as if to mimic me. “It’s an opportunity for the chosen League members to rise above their current standing and gain recognition not just within their League, but in others too. It’s considered an honor.”

His words left a bitter taste in my mouth. “Honor?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “There’s nothing honorable about war.”

“This is an unrealistic perspective, Aileen,” Ragnor said in a patient voice, but his eyes locked mine in an unshakable hold.

“Think about humans. All the wars humanity has been through in the past—can you really say the soldiers involved felt no sense of honor when they managed to represent their countries and win against an enemy?”

Logically, I knew he was right. But it didn’t make me feel any better.

“What does honor have to do with it anyway?” I asked, seething.

“Per what’s written on this piece of paper, if the League’s members lose more rounds, depending on their Lord’s triumph, they’ll be forced into a Hecatomb Auction. So what does it all even matter?”

Ragnor’s eyes turned wary. “Think about it, Aileen,” he said quietly. “What’s the purpose of the Auction in the first place?”

Giving him a filthy look as my chest tightened, my heart aching from a not-yet-fully-healed wound, I spit out, “To sell and buy vampires like objects for the benefit of the Lord.”

He leaned forward slowly, cautiously, and said calmly, “It’s not the complete truth.

” I narrowed my eyes, and Ragnor closed his, taking a deep breath and leaning back into his chair in something akin to defeat.

“The Lords might give the final say in the Auction regarding who they would like to bid on, but we have Lieutenants for a reason. And that reason is to aid us in avoiding”—he paused with a tensed jaw—“emotional decisions.”

Tense silence fell in the wake of his words. Staring down at my own hands holding one another on my lap, I knew he was giving me a choice. Either I could argue with him again about what happened three months ago, when he’d sold me to Atalon, or I could focus on the subject at hand.

And since we had far more pressing issues to discuss, I decided to drop it and instead vocalized what I realized. “So the Hecatomb can serve like a performance show for the participating members. To show the other Lords what they’re capable of in real time, and not just as a talent show.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw him nod. “Yes. It’s a privilege the ten participating members have. The rest of the League members who would be put in the Hecatomb Auction, if it came to this, wouldn’t have that.”

This just emphasized, then, how important the choice of the ten participants was.

Based on their winning or losing against the other League’s members, they would decide their League members’ fate—while also having this alleged “honor” to showcase what they could do, just in case.

Which, in truth, made it balanced, considering they put their lives on the line.

“How are you going to choose the ten members?” I asked now, raising my eyes back to him.

Ragnor gave me a long look before he responded. “Each League can choose the members however it sees fit. In most cases, the Lord simply chooses the members and is done with it, but I decided to have all members of my League vote.”

This seemed very un-Ragnor-like. But when I looked down at the paper he’d given me, I realized why he left the choice to a vote.

The ten members were basically the representatives of all of the League members in the Hecatomb, meaning that if Ragnor lost, the ten members could rake in enough wins to help dictate the fate of the Rayne League participants.

“It’s very magnanimous of you,” I said quietly, for once not feeling cynical at all. I raised my eyes back to him, and for the first time since I entered the office, I could see beyond his supposedly blank face.

Ragnor was exhausted.

He was so exhausted that, even though he’d managed to hide it, I was suddenly aware of the dark bags under his eyes, the drawn skin of his face, and the slump of his shoulders.

And just like that, I felt like a dick. Because in the past few days, while Ragnor was extremely busy, all I had done was wallow in self-pity and blame myself for Tansy’s current state.

It hadn’t even occurred to me that Ragnor might need me.

He wasn’t the type to exactly need anyone.

Him being busy, leaving me to sleep alone in his private suite, not showing his face—I’d simply accepted it for what it was.

I knew better than anyone about the extent of the mess I’d put him in, after all.

It was a no-brainer that he needed to take care of things.

But I hadn’t given a second thought to how he felt about everything.

I had simply assumed he was fine, since he was the indomitable Ragnor Rayne.

But seeing his face now, seeing through his indifferent facade into how tired he was, whether it be physically or emotionally, I realized I shouldn’t have assumed anything.

Swallowing hard, I rose from my seat and went around the desk, careful not to step on the discarded paperwork. He watched me silently until I stood before his chair, and then, feeling a little brave, I sat down on his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck.

For a few tense moments, I was afraid he would tell me to get off, but then Ragnor’s strong arms enveloped me, and he pulled me tighter against him, burying his face in my shoulder.

We didn’t speak. We just held on to one another. And in his arms, feeling his warmth, his need for me, my need for him, I finally let myself feel how much I had missed him in the last few days. How much I truly needed him too.

And suddenly, I could no longer stay silent. “Is this the only reason why you’ve been so busy?” I asked quietly, not letting him go. “Or is there something else you’re not telling me?”

He tensed for a brief second before he relaxed and leaned back just enough to look at my face. His hand cupped my cheek, and his eyes glowed neon blue as he replied, “I was looking for a way to not have you be there.”

I froze, eyes widening. “What?”

He gave me a humorless smile. “Prior to Renaldi being chosen as a moderator, I made calls with all the North American Lords.

I even managed to meet some of them in person.

I needed to make sure they were on my side.

That they understood the situation beyond what was written in the official Hecatomb application.

I was hoping for anyone but Renaldi to be chosen as moderator.

“Unfortunately ...” His smile disappeared, turning into a grimace. “The choice is always randomly generated, and Renaldi was picked.”

I could see where this was going, but I didn’t interrupt.

“Renaldi and I are not on the best terms at the moment,” he told me quietly.

“After our talk regarding Zoey, in which I told him I was going to take Zoey in and use it as the favor he owed me, he’s been quite upset with me.

After he was chosen as the moderator, I was basically chasing after him.

I even flew to Vegas to meet with him in person.

But when we met, Renaldi’s mind was already set. ”

Zoey was another former suitemate of mine.

She’d been sold in the Auction to Renaldi, and when attempting to escape, she was caught by a Jinni, an antagonistic entity that hated vampires.

We saved her from the Jinn when Ragnor and I infiltrated their headquarters in Vermont, and instead of bringing Zoey back to Renaldi, as protocol dictated, Ragnor took her in as one of his own instead.

Thus leading to Renaldi’s inevitable falling-out with Ragnor.

He paused, giving me a searching look, before he murmured, “I tried to dissuade him from requesting you to be present in the Hecatomb. I told him the situation with Atalon was hardly about you, more about Atalon’s hatred toward me.

Renaldi turned a deaf ear, and this morning, I was told your presence is required. ”

His words didn’t fully compute at first. But when they did, I leaned farther back from him and scanned his face, heart quickening in my chest as anger rose inside me. “Why?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm, and failing. “Why did you try so hard to keep me away from it?”

Ragnor’s hands grabbed my waist, his face darkening.

“I don’t want you anywhere near Atalon,” he said with a sudden growl that made me tense.

“Nor do I want you anywhere near the other Lords. I don’t want any attention on you.

I don’t want everyone to realize that you were the catalyst for the Hecatomb.

” He paused, then added in a lower voice, “Or that you are the youngest Sacred vampire to ever exist. That you are ... what you are.”

He rearranged me smoothly so I was completely straddling him, and before I could say anything, his hands tore away my shirt, shoved off my bra, and grabbed my breasts possessively.

I gasped, heat pooling at my abdomen. “If they realize what you mean to me, they’ll do everything in their power to hurt you to get to me,” he said, his glowing eyes suddenly hungry and desperate.

“I don’t know what they’ll do if they realize what you are, and I refuse to let it happen. ”

Before I could speak, his mouth covered mine in a hot kiss that made rational thought impossible; all possible retorts left me in favor of a sudden wave of lust.

Losing common sense, I leaned into his hands kneading my breasts and moaned into his mouth as he tangled his tongue with mine, movements fast and furious.

Impatient, I pushed off his tank top, spreading my hands against his hard, toned chest, and he pinched my nipples, making me groan and undulate against his hard erection. I then fumbled with his pants, desperately looking to free his cock.

Before I could do that, though, Ragnor pulled back and, wrapping his arms around me, he rose from the chair, and put my ass down on his desk.

We were then wrestling, battling over who could undress the other first. It was a furious, maddening fight that made my desperation for him all too real, making me realize just how much I had missed him. Missed his touch. Missed his skin on mine. Missed him .

No words were needed when, with both my wrists tied in his hand above my head, he pushed his thick, long cock inside my aching pussy, filling me up so beautifully, it took my breath away.

Then, with mesmerizing power, Ragnor fucked me deep, raw, and hard, until we both found our release with screams and growls that shook the walls of his office.

Some time later, as we cuddled in Ragnor’s bed (after we sneaked out of his office with barely any clothes on), satisfied from a few rounds of frantic sex, I said, “You know, you never took me out on a date.”

His chest vibrated under my cheek as he chuckled, his hands twirling my blond hair, which I gave up on dyeing brown a while ago, playfully. “That’s what bothers you right now?” he asked, amused.

I shrugged, grinning. “Well, it’s the truth. You’re still on probation, you know. You’ve already wasted a week out of the one-month limit.”

He scoffed. “I thought we were past that.”

My grin faded a bit before I braced myself on one arm, looking down at him. He gave me a lazy, heavy-lidded, smug look that made me frown. “I’m serious, Ragnor.”

He studied me, his amusement dissolving, and he put his arm around my waist, making me lie on my back with him looming over me.

“And here I thought I was out of the woods,” he murmured, giving me a disappointed look.

“In the next three weeks, I have to take care of the voting to choose which members will come with us to the Hecatomb. Then, we have the Hecatomb, which will take another week. In total, it’s one month. ”

I knew what he was saying. I also knew I should let this go—the man was going to war for my sake, after all—but I couldn’t let go of my fear.

Because the truth was, while he’d told me he loved me and had saved me more than once, he also knew that I was a Sacred.

He knew I possessed a power he could utilize for his and his League’s sake.

A part of me, a part I wasn’t proud of, was terrified that he only wanted me because of my Sacred status.

And even if it wasn’t that, our earlier conversation had reawakened the pain from him giving me up once. Knowing he was capable of letting me go did not make me feel very secure.

“Then take me out after the Hecatomb business is done with,” I said, forcing out a smile. “That means you’ve got to win this thing, you know.”

He visibly relaxed. “Bold of you to assume I’ll lose,” he told me with a smirk.

I smirked back, pushing down my fears for now. After the Hecatomb was over, I could make Ragnor prove his love and devotion to me. At the moment, he didn’t need to know I was skeptical. That I hardly believed him.

Because in the end, it was my issue, not his. And if I learned one thing from my relationship with Logan, my ex-boyfriend, it was that pushing my own insecurities and problems onto the man I was with would only drive him away, with no hope of return.

And I refused to do that with Ragnor. No matter how much my debilitating demons begged to differ.