Page 28

ALARIC

N o. No. NO!

A roar tears from my throat, a primal, deranged sound that I’ve never heard before. My thoughts are a maelstrom of panic and fear and fury. My mate is in danger. My mate. My mate. My mate.

I’d come to find her once LaRouche finally left the camp, practically coming out of my skin with the need to see her. Her chef had told me she’d come to the pond she usually frequents with Nova and Wesley some hours ago, and when I’d come into the edge of the clearing, I’d smiled. She’d fallen asleep on a blanket in the middle of the field, near a crimson oak that overlooks the water. She’d looked beautiful, face soft and relaxed in slumber, lips slightly parted. I’d come so, so close to kissing those lips not three days ago. I knew how foolish it was, how irresponsible, but I couldn’t stop myself. If Caldwell hadn’t interrupted, I don’t know that I would have stopped at a kiss. I don’t know that I could ever be satisfied with a mere brush of my lips to hers.

I’d watched her for a minute, so lost in memories and fantasies that I hadn’t caught their scent or heard their approach until it was too late. The herd of hellcats burst through the trees, barreling directly for Dahlia. My heart had clenched in my chest, twisting painfully as terror choked me into near immobility.

“KEEVA!” I’d roared, willing her to hear me, putting everything I had into the bond between us, hoping she could feel my fear and panic, praying it would wake her in time. She jolted upright, looking a little dazed, but she turned and met my gaze immediately, as if she’d known I was here. I’d taken off towards her, running as fast as I could, everything around me blurring around the edges as I sped across the field. She pushed herself up to her feet, turning to see what was coming for her, and I could feel the terror seize her, the cold realization: there isn’t enough time.

She whirls back to me now, gaze meeting mine, pleading for me to save her when we both know I won’t make it.

“Alaric,” she whispers, and even across the distance, I hear her voice as if she’s whispered it directly into my ear.

“NO!” I roar. I almost lost her once, and here I am, about to lose her forever. I think the Goddess of Fate must be punishing me for refusing the gift she bestowed me in Dahlia, in giving me not only a mate, but someone I love more than my own life. No. I will not lose her . I refuse. I snarl a curse at the goddess, telling her to fuck right off. Something within me cracks then, splintering and opening, but not breaking . No, it’s as if new, raw power I never could have imagined is pouring through the cracks, filling every fiber of my being. Purpose . That’s what’s filling me now, erasing everything else. Purpose. My purpose is to protect this woman, to protect what is mine, in all ways, forever.

I have no idea how it happens, but somehow, between one heartbeat and the next, I’m beside her, pulling her against me and diving to the side just as the first hellcats race by. A spiked tail catches me across the back and I grit my teeth against the swift flash of pain, but I’ll take it gladly if it means that Dahlia is safe and out of harm’s way.

We tumble together down the hill. I try my best to tuck my body around hers, to use my own as a shield as we fall, slamming into rocks and sticks until we finally come to rest in the small hollow beside the stream. The stampede continues on above, running parallel to us atop the hill, but still, I don’t move, continuing to cradle her body beneath mine. The ground shakes all around us from the force of the herd and she grips the front of my shirt, pulling me even harder against her, shrinking into my body.

Finally, the shaking eases and I know the herd has moved on. I slowly push myself up so I can see her. She’s wide-eyed and breathing hard, pulse racing, but looks to be mostly unharmed.

“Keeva. Keeva, are you alright?”

She takes a shuddering breath but nods.

“I’m ok.”

I brush the hair from her face, pushing myself up onto one arm so I can inspect her more thoroughly.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes, I’m alright, I promise. You saved me—again,” she says, breathless.

“Gods, Dahlia, I thought—” I bite back the words, unable to give them life. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. Panic, terror, need, fury. It’s too much. Suddenly, her hand is on my cheek, her soft skin burning me where she touches my face. My eyes fly wide and lock with hers.

“I’m alright,” she says again. “Breathe, Alaric.” I let out a long, shuddering breath and put my own hand over hers, holding it to my cheek and leaning into her touch, needing it so badly that I’m positive that I’ll die without it. I almost laugh—she almost dies, and here she is comforting me . Whatever filled me before, whatever gave me the power to get to her, isn’t subsiding. Every fiber of my being is calling out to her in ways I can’t comprehend.

My eyes skate down her throat.

“You’re bleeding,” I say, voice thick and rough, and I finally release her hand.

She blinks and moves her fingers to her neck, finding the small cut. It isn’t a deep wound, but enough that the blood is flowing easily. She holds her hand before her eyes, examining the crimson painting her fingers. Then she lowers them, holds my gaze, and very deliberately tilts her head, exposing her throat to me.

“Take it,” she whispers.

“Dahlia,” I warn, even as my mouth waters, my fangs sliding out.

“It’s yours, Alaric. Everything…all of it…it’s yours.” A shudder runs through my body at her words. Is she saying…no, it can’t be…but I feel it in the bond between us, feel the dangerous truth in what she’s saying: she’s telling me that she’s mine. Not a bond, not an instinct, but she, herself, is telling me. I swallow hard as I eye the blood flowing from her neck, her offer echoing in my head…

I will not bite her. I will not…

But I do lean down, unable to stop myself, and slowly run my tongue along the gash. She gasps and shudders as a tremor works its way through my body, the taste of her blood like a chemical shock to my entire system. I pull back ever so slightly, but she grips my shirt and pulls me back towards her, arching her body upward. I keep my fangs firmly in check but I do lean down again, burying my face in her neck and latching my lips around the wound, sucking gently.

A moan slips past her lips and the sound has a direct line to my cock. I’m hard as steel in seconds, desperate for her, barely holding onto the tiny shreds of my self-control that are left. She slides one hand into my hair, clutching me to her neck while she maneuvers the other beneath my shirt. I hiss in a startled breath when her fingers graze my skin, my muscles jumping at the contact. Her touch is like fire, consuming me, branding me, forging me into something new. Hers. I’m hers .

I know I need to stop. I know I need to pull myself away from her, because if I stay, I’m going to do something that’s impossible…but I can’t think when she touches me like this, when she moans and grinds her hips against mine, begging and needy. The smell of her is enough to make my muscles quake, my fangs sharpen, my cock throb. She moves her hand around my hip and up my back, seeming not to know where she wants to touch me and settling for everywhere. She writhes beneath me and I don’t have the strength to stop myself from arching my hips forward, my aching cock pressing hard against her.

She gasps, nails digging into my lower back.

“ Alaric ,” she breathes.

All I can think about is sinking my cock and fangs into her delicate flesh, of feeling the heat of her body and her blood, of claiming my mate. I claw my fingers into the dirt on either side of her head, seconds away from sliding my fangs into her throat, but the sounds of approaching soldiers give me just enough clarity in my lust-addled mind to stop this insanity.

I quickly pull away, practically leaping off of her. She gasps and presses herself up on her arms to stare at me where I stand a few feet away, breathing hard and clenching my jaw to regain my composure. Her pupils are wide, her pulse racing, her cheeks flushed. Her hair is a tangle of fire and grass and sticks, but my gods, she’s never looked more beautiful.

Before she can say a word, a handful of soldiers pour down the hill towards us, a chaotic chorus of voices filling the air.

“Sir! Are you alright?”

“Oh gods, Lady Dahlia! I didn’t know she was here.”

“Fucking biggest herd I’ve seen pass through in years.”

I move forward again and help Dahlia to stand as the men converge on us.

“We’re both alright,” I say over the din, causing them all to quiet immediately. “Harkness, escort my Consort back to our cabin if you will?—”

“I’ll do it, your highness,” a voice rings out. I glance up to find Takara, Dahlia’s Keeper, bolting down the hillside. She’s a bit disheveled and I can smell Malcom all over her. From what I hear, the two of them are all but betrothed at this point. She reaches us and pulls Dahlia into her arms.

“Are you doing this on purpose? Trying to get yourself killed or maybe just to scare the life out of me?” she demands. My lips twitch in amusement. Takara is not to be trifled with—it’s one of the reasons I selected her as Dahlia’s Keeper—and I appreciate her fierce love of my mate.

“Definitely just to fuck with ye, of course,” Dahlia says with a roll of her eyes, her brogue slipping a bit with the stress of the situation, I imagine.

“I figured as much, you little wench,” Takara says in response, cupping Dahlia’s cheeks affectionately. “Come on, let’s get you home and in the bath. You’re a mess.” The vampire plucks a twig from Dahlia’s hair and she huffs out a laugh. She meets my gaze for a moment, so many unspoken things passing between us before Takara pulls her up the hill.

“I want patrols of these woods added to the rotation immediately to keep an eye on the hellcat migration. They don’t usually use this path through camp, but if this herd did, another might as well.”

“Yes, sir,” they all say in unison.

Now that the danger has passed and I’m coming down from the ecstasy of having Dahlia in my arms, the enormity of what had happened here comes crashing down. It threatens to swallow me, but I manage to keep everything at bay until I give a few more orders to the men and make my way to my chambers.

I hit my knees as the panic and fear and desire and love and need and protectiveness and anger all attack me at once, like wild beasts caged inside me now freed from their prisons. I claw my fingers into the floor as everything comes for me again and again, an enemy that won’t relent.

I could have lost her. I somehow saved her. I have to protect her. I was almost too late. I need to be better. I have to be more. I can never be parted from her. I need her. I want her. I love her.

The last thought silences the rest and allows a cool, calm to settle over me. It’s the most important one after all, the only one that matters anymore. I let it echo in my mind like a mantra, a lullaby to keep the nightmares at bay.

I love her.

I love her.

I love her.

I have no idea what to do. I know that we cannot continue down the path we did in that field today…but, whatever shifted inside me and gave me the power to save her will not recede. It will not answer to my will. It will not be controlled. It wants one thing only…and that thing, is my mate. I’d tried to talk to Elias about it earlier, but it hadn’t been at all helpful.

“Elias, I…fuck, I almost…” I leaned over my desk, palms on the smooth, wooden surface. I tried to slow my breathing, to force my body to heel and stop reacting to what had happened earlier, to what had almost happened.

“Kissed her? Bit her? Fucked her?” he asked, clearly not worried about my panicked state. In fact, the bastard was smirking like a very clever cat and I wanted very much to put him through the wall.

“All three,” I said with a growl, “right in the middle of a fucking field.” His smirk turned into a full-on grin.

“Gods that’s sexy . Come on, you have to admit it’s sexy!”

“Would you be serious! I almost bit and fucked my Consort in a field in the middle of my war camp where the gods and every soldier in my army could have seen. That is not sexy, that is unacceptable.”

Elias pondered that for a few minutes, running his fingers along his jaw thoughtfully.

“Ok, I take your point…but it’s still a little sexy…” I turned a killing look on him and he held up his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok, I’m sorry. Yes, I understand that may not have been the best situation all things considered, but…well, what if the situation were different? Say, like in the privacy of your cabin?...”

“I can’t…but,” I sighed heavily, “but something is different now. I don’t think I can hold these feelings and desires and needs at bay.”

“Different?” he asked, blonde brow quirking upward.

“When I knew I wouldn’t make it to her in time, when I knew without a doubt that I was about to lose her forever, something inside me burst to the surface, filling me with a strange power that I’ve never felt before. I think…I think I teleported.”

“Teleported?” he echoed, incredulous. Special gifts like teleporting, telepathy, the power to thrall or entrance, used to be more common among vampires millennia ago, but for whatever reason, the abilities faded over the years. “I haven’t heard of anyone having that power in…fuck, a thousand years, at least.”

“I know, but it was like something long ago buried inside me came to life, calling upon those long-dormant gifts in order to save my mate. One second I was running to her, but still too far across the field, and the next, she was in my arms and I was pulling her out of the way.”

“Holy shit,” Elias breathed. “This is…fuck, this is insane.” He looked at me in awe and then his lips curled into a smile. “But can you imagine battles with the Revenants if you can learn to control it?” I couldn’t help but smile at that, imagining the looks on their faces if I were able to move across the entire battlefield between one breath and the next. If Kilgren ever shows his face, I can end him finally.

I shook myself, focusing on the problem at hand.

“But with this power came something even more primal and demanding than ever before. It’s like the mating instincts have been multiplied by a thousand and are taking complete control over my entire being, every inch of my body and soul screaming out for Dahlia. I don’t think I can physically deny it for much longer.”

“My advice on this matter has not changed, my friend. You say you can’t deny these desires much longer. I say stop denying them then.” I shot him a look that must have told him easily how close to the edge I was. He tilted his head as he studied me, and added, "but maybe, uh, take things slow?"

Slow, slow, slow.

I keep repeating the words now as she opens the door and steps inside the study.

And I realize then that I might just be good and fucked.