Page 29

DAHLIA

I ’m tired of denying what I want. I’ve practically been on fire all afternoon after the incident with the hellcats. The feel of Alaric’s body on top of mine, of his lips against my neck and his skin beneath my fingers—it was too much and not nearly enough.

I need more. I need him , in every way you can need a person. It isn’t just the physical, though that’s so intense that I can hardly breathe at the thought of it, but it’s the connection I feel to him, the love coursing through every cell of my body and soul. I love him. Gods, I love him so much it almost hurts. I tried to tell myself over these months that it was just the bonding, the blood exchanged between us forcing me to feel this way, but the blood only tethered us together, it didn’t create this connection between us, these feelings.

I know it isn’t allowed, that there are so many barriers between us, but I don’t care about any of them. Somehow today we defeated death itself— again . Everything else seems so small in comparison now. I’m a Consort and he’s my prince—who cares? He’s a vampire and I’m human—so what? But I need to know what he feels. I know he wants me physically, that much was so deliciously obvious this afternoon when he was on top of me. I nearly shudder at the memory, the feel of him hard and ready against me…

But I need to know if he feels more, if he wants more. I need to know if he’s willing to travel this dangerous path with me or if I’m traversing it alone.

I bathe, taking extra care to scrub and shave and buff every surface I can think of, just in case…and put my hair into a loose knot at my nape with an emerald-studded clip that Takara gave me. I wonder if I should wear something special, but decide against it. It’s just a normal night in the study, like we’ve had so many of in these past months. I’m determined to talk about things tonight, but I don’t want to put pressure on the situation. So, I put on a short, midnight-blue silk nightgown, pull a matching robe over it, and set out for the study.

I know he’s already inside before I open the door, and I can’t stop my heart from thundering at the thought. The way he’d reacted in the field today, the way he’d somehow gotten to me in time, to save me—again—the way he’d murmured my name and Keeva over and over without seeming to even realize he was doing it, the way he’d shuddered as he’d licked the blood from my neck, his body hard against my own…

I swallow hard and open the door, striding inside. He’s standing in front of the fireplace, his gray shirt unbuttoned at his throat and leather pants riding low on his hips. His eyes travel down my body, the gold darkening and burning as his gaze skates over every curve.

“Are you well, then?” he asks, voice a bit husky.

“Yes, I’m fine. All healed,” I say, tilting my head so he can see my throat easily. We both stand for an endless moment. “How did you get to me?” I ask. It hadn’t actually been what I meant to say, but blurting out I’m in love with you didn’t seem like a good plan. “In the clearing. You were too far, I know you were. But then…you were there.”

I’ve drifted closer to him without even realizing it, now standing just before him by the fire. The warmth seeps into my skin through the thin silk.

“I’m not entirely sure, honestly, but it seems as though I somehow…teleported.”

I blink. There were legends of vampires having special gifts long ago—the ability to travel from one place to another in the blink of an eye, the ability to move objects with their minds, the power to control someone’s thoughts, that sort of thing—but they’re just legends now. Vampires didn’t have those kinds of gifts anymore. So how in the seven hells…

“And this is, um, the first time that’s happened?” I ask, though I know it is. He nods. “But how…why…” I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

“I…I don’t either,” he says, though I get the feeling he’s not being entirely truthful. I tilt my head back to meet his eyes, trying to read the truth there. That heavy feeling settles over us as it so often does, but this time it’s different. It’s volatile now, combustible. Dangerous. Like we’re standing on the very edge of a cliff. Once we step off the edge, there will be no coming back.

I can see what happened between us earlier running through his mind, the same way it’s running through mine. I know my heart is probably loud in his ears, pounding like warhorse hooves against stone. He moves as if to touch my face, but drops his hand, taking a half step away.

“Dahlia, we can’t…what happened earlier…” He runs his hand through his hair, making the curls stand out like a tangled halo. I take a step towards him and he retreats again, slowly. “We…can’t,” he says again, though it’s only half-hearted, sounding almost as if it pains him to say it, like he’s trying so hard to say what he’s supposed to. I lay my palms against his stomach and his eyes slide closed, his body shuddering beneath my touch.

“Alaric,” I whisper. I can’t stop myself. It’s like I’m not even in control of my body anymore, some bone-deep force compelling me forward, crying out for Alaric in ways I can’t even understand. And it will not be denied.

He steps back again, but I move with him this time, my hands never leaving his body.

“Shouldn’t…” he croaks, barely even half-hearted this time. He’s breathing hard and a jolt of surprise and feminine delight sings through my veins. I’m making a Montclare prince, the High General of the entire vampiric army, lose his grip on his centuries-honed control. Me. A powerless, little human.

Another step back, another step forward. He hits the edge of the couch and sits heavily. I don’t hesitate, immediately climbing into his lap, my knees on either side of his hips. His hands fly to my waist, fingers clenching gently, his touch burning me through the thin silk of my nightgown. I need it gone. I need his hands on me, I need our bodies touching skin-to-skin. I slide my robe from my arms and let it fall to the ground behind me.

I drape my arms over his shoulders and he inhales sharply. I can see how hard he’s working to keep himself still, to hold himself back, to find the strength to stop this. But there is no stopping it now and I think we both know it.

I brush my fingers along his nape, gently sifting them through his hair and lean forward. His eyes are squeezed shut, his lips parted but his muscles tight, as if he’s in pain. He’s fighting . Still fighting so damned hard. I know deep in my bones that he isn’t fighting because he doesn’t want this. He’s fighting because he’s afraid of what he might do because of the things he wants.

But I trust him. More than anyone else in the world, I trust this man with my life.

I lean closer, putting our lips so close that his harsh breaths warm my skin, but not quite touching. Not yet. He has to make the decision. I understand his reservations, not just for my safety but for his honor as a prince and the High General. So, he has to be the one to make this choice, in the end. I respect him enough to leave this to him, but my gods I hope he makes the decision I need him so badly to make…

“Alaric,” I whisper again, almost against his lips. He lets out a shuddering breath.

“You play with fire, Keeva,” he warns, hands gripping my hips tightly, fingers bunching the silk.

“Then let me burn .”

He groans and suddenly, his lips are on mine. I gasp in surprise, but it quickly transforms into a moan. It’s pure fire the moment our lips meet, unlike anything I’ve ever felt. He moves one hand to the back of my head, removing the clip and tossing it across the room. My hair tumbles down my back, tickling my bare shoulders. His lips are warm and soft, demanding and sure. He takes my bottom lip between his, sucking ever so slightly, and I melt. I open my mouth to him and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Each roll of his tongue against mine sends jolts of pleasure through my entire body, making my toes curl. He tunnels his fingers into my hair, holding me hard to him. As if I’d possibly pull away now, as if I possibly could .

One touch of his lips and I’m done for. One kiss and I’m his, forever.

I spread my knees wider, sinking down fully on his lap and we both moan loudly into the kiss. I roll my hips, grinding my core against him. He’s hard as granite beneath me, and I nearly whimper.

“ Keeva ,” he growls, fingers clenching on my waist. “You must be still…” He kisses across my jaw. “I’m doing everything in my power not to hurt you…” He grazes my earlobe with his teeth and I shiver.

“You won’t,” I pant, rolling my hips again despite his warning, digging my hands into his hair, urging him on. He kisses down my neck, pausing when he gets to the pulse point at the base of my throat. I gasp, wondering if he’ll bite me…perhaps more than wondering. Perhaps hoping. Perhaps praying. Perhaps wanting it almost as badly as I want the rest of him.

He licks my throat, groaning, but doesn’t bite. He pulls away and kisses me again, harder this time, more fevered. My blood is fire in my veins, every inch of me screaming out for more. He thrusts his tongue against mine, dominating, commanding. I drag my hands from his hair to the front of his shirt, yanking at the buttons. I need my hands on him, need to feel him beneath my fingertips. I push the fabric apart, exposing his chest. I run my hands over the sculpted muscles, the hard planes and enticing hollows. I can feel the faint raised lines of scars and one day, I’ll take hours exploring every inch of him, memorizing every single scar and hearing every story of how they got there, how these badges of honor were pinned to my vampire’s skin. My vampire. My prince. My love. Mine.

I dip my hands lower and his stomach clenches in response, the muscles rigid beneath my touch.

“Gods, the feel of your hands on me…it’s like heaven.” His voice is low and husky, almost pained. I grind my hips harder, needing more. “Dahlia, you must stop …”

“No,” I say simply, ignoring his command. It was only half-hearted anyway. I think. I’m becoming so out of my mind with need that I feel almost drunk, not able to focus on much of anything except the feel of Alaric beneath me, the heat of his body against mine and how badly I need him. “I can’t stop, Alaric. Please ,” I beg in whispered breaths against his mouth. I bite lightly on his lower lip, eliciting a sexy half-groan, half-moan, and he seems to release a fraction of his control as he uses his grip on my waist to pull me harder atop him while he bucks his hips upward. I gasp at the contact, and then cry out when he does it again, and again.

“You’re soaked, Keeva,” he pants between gritted teeth. “Can feel you through my leathers. Fucking hells… ” His entire body shudders and tenses and I can tell how hard it’s becoming for him to hold himself back. But I don’t want him to. As stupid as that may be—he’s warned me how easily he could kill me if things were to go awry here—I want him, all of him, and deep down, I somehow know that he won’t hurt me, even if he gives himself up fully to the lust roiling inside him.

Lust .

That gives me an idea, and I’m past caring if it’s a good one or a bad one. I kiss him again, delving my tongue against his—and then running it along one of his fangs, drawing blood.