Page 31

DAHLIA

T he nightmares don’t find me in Alaric’s arms, and when I wake the next morning— in Alaric’s room? —I feel better rested than I have in months. My heart falls when I realize that I’m alone in the giant, unfamiliar bed, but then I see a note on the pillow beside me, along with a flower. A dahlia. I smile and pull the flower to my nose, inhaling deeply while I read the note.

Dahlia,

I’m sorry I must leave before you wake, but I am ever the High General and duty calls. I was sorely tempted to tell duty to fuck off, but alas, she is a demanding bitch. I will find you later.

-A

P.S.

You look beautiful.

I grin like an idiot as I read the note twice more. This has to mean that he doesn’t regret what happened between us, right? I sigh and decide I should go back to my own room, only to realize that I have no clothes. My nightgown is in tatters somewhere in the study and I smile and blush as the memories of the night before come flooding back. Alaric’s fingers, his tongue, his fangs…A shiver runs through me and I suddenly want my hands on him so badly I have to curl my fingers into fists. I rummage in Alaric’s closet and put on one of his tunics. It’s long enough that it covers everything that should be covered, though if Alaric isn’t here, I don’t anticipate running into any of his men in the halls. I slip from his chambers, padding quickly down the hall and across the expanse of the cabin to my own wing.

I nearly scream when I come into my room and find Takara sitting in front of the fireplace. She looks somewhere between impressed, astonished, worried, and amused.

“And where might we have been, Lady Dahlia?” she asks with a knowing arch of her brow and I cross my arms defiantly.

“Just out for a morning stroll.”

“A morning stroll in the High General’s tunic without your panties?” I gape at her and she laughs, lips curling up into an affectionate smile. I stride over and collapse into the chair across from her, tucking my feet up beneath me and pulling Alaric’s tunic around my knees.

“Tell. Me. Everything,” she demands, holding out a plate of bacon and eggs and fruit to me while sipping on a cup of blood.

And I do. I don’t know if I should since I get the feeling this thing between Alaric and myself should probably be a bit of a secret, but I know that Takara won’t tell a soul, both as my Keeper, duty bound to me and me alone, but more importantly as my friend.

“Gods, I knew it,” she says, shaking her head. “I just knew it! The way he acted after the attack…”

“Knew what?” I ask, polishing off the last bite of fruit.

She hesitates ever so slightly, and then says “I knew that he cared for you, more than a prince usually cares for his Consort I mean.” I’m not sure that this is actually what she meant, but I let it go.

“I don’t know what happens now. I know this isn’t exactly…normal.”

Takara snorts. “Nothing about this Choosing or any moment since has been normal, Dahlia. But I’m thankful for it. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I smile at her. “But as far as what happens with you and Alaric now, that I’m not sure either. I think it’s best that this remain…private for the time being, at least until Alaric has a chance to decide how he wants to handle it. I know for a fact of at least five other princes who have fucked their Consorts in the past, so it isn’t as if this never happens, but…it is supposed to remain secret when it does. So,” she shrugs, “secret it is for now.”

I nod in agreement, figuring as much as well. She grins a wicked grin, her fangs glinting in the morning light streaming in through the windows.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t have as many orgasms in private as that puny little mortal body of yours can handle.”

I bark out a laugh and soon we’re both clutching our sides, and while I’m so glad I have someone to share this with here, a part of my heart aches at it not being Enid. Takara says she has things to take care of, a mischievous glint in her eye that sparks my interest, and once she leaves, I fly to the desk. I pen a quick letter to Enid, one simple sentence that means more than anything else I’ve ever written.

Enid,

I’m in love with Alaric Montclare.

-Dahlia

I distract myself at the forge with Braddock for most of the day, getting lost in the familiar rhythms and sounds and smells. I’ve perfected the gauntlet design after some input from Alaric and have now made sets for Alaric, Elias, Wesley, Nova, and, after I finish this pair, every member of my guard.

I spy Alaric walking through the camp with a group of his men in the afternoon, and even across the distance, his eyes find mine. He inclines his head, his lips curling up ever so slightly. His golden eyes spark with the mischief of this shared secret between us and seem to burn with the memories of last night. I try to hide my smile and obviously fail miserably if even Braddock notices.

“And what has our Lady Dahlia in such a good mood today?”

I shake myself and hold up the gauntlet.

“Finished,” I say with a smile.

He takes it from me, turning it over in his big hands.

“Very impressive, my Lady. Very impressive, indeed.” I incline my head in thanks and say my goodbyes for the day, hanging up my apron on the peg by the door on my way out. I stop mid-motion when I hear Singh cry out from the back room just before a loud crash echoes through the place. Braddock rolls his eyes.

“That boy, I swear the gods…” he mutters quietly.

“I’m alright!” Singh calls “It’s fine! Fire is out…Oh shit!!” Braddock and I look at each other and he holds up one finger, a smile playing on his lips. A moment later Singh calls again. “Ok, now it’s out!”

We both chuckle lightly and I wave as I head out the door. I do some training exercises that Wesley and Nova had left for me to practice while they’re gone, counting down the minutes until the day is over and I can see Alaric. Finally, the light begins to fade and I practically sprint back to the cabin. There’s a sharp bite to the air now that winter is creeping in and my lungs don’t care for it yet. I sigh in relief when I enter the cabin and find a giant fire roaring in the hearth in the entrance hall. I rush to Alaric’s wing, heedless of who might be there or if he might have other business to deal with. I know that he’s in the war room, sensing him there through the bond that I still don’t quite understand, and jog down the hallway. I raise my hand to knock but the door flies open to reveal Alaric, eyes burning and fangs extended. Without a word, I jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. He kicks the door closed and presses me against the wood, his body pinning me as his lips crash to mine.

I melt against him, feeling as if it’s been days without him instead of only hours. His tongue thrusts against mine, hot and demanding.

“Missed you,” he pants between kisses. “How is that possible?” He turns and walks us across the room and I tunnel my fingers into his hair, rolling my tongue against his, biting and sucking on his lower lip until he groans huskily, making me grin and shiver with desire.

“Me too,” I say as he sets me on the giant table, scattering the figurines in all directions. I widen my legs and he shoves his hips between them, making me gasp. I yank his shirt upward and he obliges me, helping to pull it over his head and tossing it to the floor. I give an appreciative mmm , running my hands over his stomach and chest, as he presses himself more firmly between my thighs.

He kisses along my jaw and whispers in my ear, “I’ve been hard nearly all day, Keeva. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, about how good you taste…” He runs my ear lobe between his teeth and I make an obscene sound, bucking my hips against him. I can feel him grin against my skin as he kisses my throat. “Been dying to have my tongue on you again.”

Before I even realize he’s moved his hand, my tunic is open, the buttons scattering across the floor with soft tinking sounds. He slices my corset away, my breasts springing free, and immediately they’re in his palms. I moan and arch my back, pressing them more firmly into his grasp, begging—for what, exactly, I don’t know. Anything. Everything. He massages my flesh, running the pads of his thumbs over my nipples before pinching them lightly. I grip the edge of the table and kick off my boots before wrapping my legs around his thighs, holding him close to me as he continues his delicious torture. He kisses me again, tugging at the laces of my pants and stepping back long enough to lift my ass off the table and yank them down my thighs. He licks his lips as he stares between my legs and my entire body shudders in anticipation, but no. As much as I want that again, I want something else more.

Before he can move forward again, I slide off of the table to stand before him. He arches a dark brow, eyeing me hungrily as I go up on my tiptoes to kiss him again. My hands drift downward, untying the laces of his pants. I shove the leather down and tunnel my hand inside, and he hisses in a sharp breath as I wrap my hand around his length. I stroke as I kiss him, my tongue rolling in time with the movement of my hand. The sounds he makes send shivers down my spine, little groans and growls and pleas that I don’t even think he realizes he’s making. I break away from the kiss, leaning in to kiss his chest, trailing kisses lower across his stomach as I sink to my knees before him. He seems to stop breathing. He meets my gaze, his eyes churning like molten gold.

“Dahlia…” I can’t tell if it’s a warning or a prayer, but I don’t dare stop. I lean in and run my tongue from his right hip bone, along the indention leading downward. I take the guttural sound he makes as approval, and shove his leathers down his thighs, his cock springing completely free.

Dear. Gods.

I knew Alaric was big, of course. I just had my hand wrapped him and I caught a glimpse of him after his release last night, but neither of these things could have prepared me to see him in his full glory. Long. Hard. Straining. I gulp, but not in fear. Oh no, it’s absolute desire coursing through my veins, making me wet and needy. I grip his shaft and take the head between my lips. He makes an unintelligible sound that I believe means please keep going , and take him deeper into my mouth, swirling my tongue along the swollen crown as he slides deep into my throat.

“ FUCK ,” he hisses out as I slide back, sucking on the tip before taking him deep again. Over and over, bopping my head and gripping his hip with one hand, splaying my other hand over his stomach and dragging my nails over the muscles. I moan around his cock and he tunnels his hand in my hair, brushing the strands back from my face. I pull back, running my fist up and down his slick shaft as I meet his gaze. He licks his lips, his eyes dark and burning.

I hold his gaze and lean forward again, licking the bottom of his shaft from hilt to tip, and his entire body shudders. I pull the head between my lips again, never taking my eyes from his. He groans and wraps my hair around his fist, keeping it from obstructing his view.

“Fuck, Keeva. That’s it, keep your eyes on me, beauty. Watch me while I watch you take my cock between those beautiful lips.” I moan, and obey, keeping my eyes locked with his while I take him deep into my mouth again, sending his length down my throat. I love it when he talks, the dirty things he says and commands. I dig my fingers into his hip as I keep going, watching him watch me while I suck his cock and dear gods it's too much. I reach down between my legs, delving my own fingers between my thighs. I whimper at the touch and he moans loudly. “Gods…”

I pump my fingers as I take his shaft over and over, twirling my tongue and sucking hard and I can feel it the moment his body shifts and I know he’s close.

“You’re going to make me…come…Keeva…you must stop…”

I don’t.

Instead, I release his hip and use that hand to stroke his length in time with the movement of my mouth. Up and down, up and down. So hard. So slick. I move down and palm his sac, sucking hard, and he roars my name as he comes in my mouth, hot spend lashes down my throat as his hips buck forward with every pump. I moan at the taste of him, of how I’ve somehow made this strong, centuries old vampire prince come undone. I pump my fingers harder, plummeting over the edge and crying out around his cock.

Suddenly, he’s gone from my mouth and his hands are around my upper arms and he’s lifting me to the table once more. He brings my fingers to his mouth, sucking hard and gods it’s so erotic I can barely stand it. His eyes slide closed as he licks them clean, pushing his own fingers inside me in one quick thrust. I cry out in sudden pleasure. He releases my fingers and holds my gaze before bending his head to my neck and sinking his fangs into my throat. I scream as an orgasm rips through me out of nowhere. His fingers pumping, his fangs in my flesh, the pull as he sucks my blood—it’s indescribable. Stars explode behind my eyes and I have no idea how long it is before the tremors subside and Alaric is holding me tight against him, both of us breathing as if we’ve just run across the entire continent.

“Fucking hells, Dahlia,” he says against my hair. I bury my face in his chest, trying to breathe normally.

"Is it always like this for you?" I ask before rising my head to meet his eyes. He cradles my face, brushing his thumbs along my cheeks and I rest my hands on his hips. "Because it isn't for me, this is…this is something else entirely. I can't explain it, Alaric. It's like…I crave you. Not just physically, but on every level, like every bit of me needs every bit of you." I shake my head in frustration. "I can't think straight to explain this right. You've addled my brain with orgasms." He huffs out a quiet laugh.

"I understand," he says softly. "And no, it isn’t like this. It's never been like this." He stares deeply into my eyes, trying to look to the very heart of me it feels like. My chest heats. He seems to steel himself, like he's about to deliver important news. His throat bobs as he swallows hard and then he exhales roughly. "It's because?—"

A knock on the door interrupts whatever he's about to say and he curses under his breath as we spring apart.

"One moment," he calls. I scramble to try to put things to rights—which is impossible since my top won't close without buttons, and if the person at the door is a vampire, they'll be able to smell… Oh gods . My cheeks heat and I freeze, meeting Alaric's eyes. He seems to know exactly what I'm thinking because he laughs, his shoulders shaking as he finishes lacing his pants.

"It isn't funny," I hiss, snatching a figurine from the table and throwing it at him. He catches it easily and strides across the room, grabbing a sweater from a hook beside the fireplace. He holds it up in front of me, giving me a commanding look and I sigh, holding up my arms obediently. He slides the soft fabric over my head, and I inhale deeply, sighing. It smells like him. He tugs the hem down and kisses me softly.

"This looks ridiculous," I pout, but it's only half-hearted. He smiles playfully and taps the tip of my nose with his finger. It's… adorable. I can’t deny that this side of him, this gentle, playful, adorable side, makes me love him even more.

"Come in," he calls and I blanch. Elias opens the door and waltzes inside, a huge grin on his face and not looking at all surprised to see me in this…predicament.

"Lady Dahlia, looking lovely as ever," he says breezily, and I see Alaric roll his eyes, though he's smiling.

"Hello," I respond, because I don't know what the hells else I could possibly say. He looks between me and Alaric, his smile hiking up a notch.

"Have I interrupted something?" Elias asks, all feigned innocence. He glances around and puts a hand to his mouth in mock-surprise. "Oh dear, are those buttons on the floor? Has someone's garment malfunctioned? Goodness me…"

"Enough, Elias," Alaric says and I pull in my lips to hide my smile. For some reason, the fact that Elias knows and doesn't seem to be fazed at all, or at the very least, isn't judging Alaric for what's happening between us, makes me ridiculously happy. I know that Elias and Alaric are as close as brothers and that his approval means more than Alaric would ever admit. Elias winks at me and then turns to Alaric.

"I really am sorry to interrupt, but I have…" he cuts a quick glance my way before turning back to Alaric, "news of a somewhat concerning nature."

Alaric's entire posture changes, his muscles tensing and pulling himself to his full height. His smile fades and the playful, flirty Alaric is gone. He's all High General now and a knot forms in the pit of my stomach.

"What's going on?"

"Scouting reports say that the Revenant army is marching towards the Obsidian Plain with the largest contingent we've seen in months—even Kilgren is rumored to be with them."

Alaric had explained that Kilgren was the leader of the Revenants, hellbent on the destruction of Braxhelm, but even more so, of Alaric. But he never comes to battle with his men. I personally think that cowardly, but when memories of the Revenant attack flash behind my eyes, memories of me frozen in fear and hiding while others fought and died around me…well, who am I to judge cowardice?

"How long?" Alaric asks and I can see the calculations running through his mind, the strategies and plans and back-up plans, the entire war a giant chess board and Alaric anticipating moves and countermoves. Something about this feels wrong, an uneasy feeling skittering up my spine, but I think it's just the idea of Alaric leaving to go into an apparently huge battle, which I know without a doubt he's about to do.

"Three days."

Alaric nods. "Gather the men. Three battalions, plus archers, and call back the groups on patrol and the ones doing training exercises and have them join us." My stomach twists: that’s the group that Wesley and Nova are with. So they’ll be joining the fight as well.

"Already done. They're preparing now and Braddock and Singh are packing the weapons cache."

"Good. I'll meet you at the gates in twenty minutes."

"Yes, sir." Elias turns to me, looking more serious this time. "I'll watch over him, my Lady."

I nod, trying to keep the panic from rising in my chest and the tears from springing to my eyes. I know that Alaric must do this. I know that he wouldn't have it any other way, and really, I wouldn’t either. I know how much he loves what he does, this calling he answered so long ago. It makes him happy to put himself between evil and the safety of everyone within the kingdom.

But even so, I can't stop the fear from turning my blood to ice and making it nearly impossible to breathe. As soon as Elias closes the door, Alaric is there, wrapping me in his arms.

"I'm sorry, I must go."

"I know," I assure him. He kisses me softly and I rest my palms on his cheek when he pulls back. "I know," I tell him again making sure he knows that I understand.

"I hate to leave you."

"Make sure you come back then," I whisper, leaning in to kiss him again.

"I swear to you," he says sternly, almost as if he's not just saying it to me but daring the gods themselves to try to stop him. He kisses me fiercely, and I try not to think of it as a gallows kiss. He picks me up and carries me to his bed chamber, tossing me on the bed and making me laugh. I wrap my arms around my knees and rest my chin there and watch as he dons his fighting leathers and a thick coat lined with fur, and straps Night’s Fury to his back.

"No armor?" I ask. I know his armor is specially made and nearly impenetrable.

"Not on the journey to our temporary camp. A squire will pack it for me though, not to worry." I nod and all too soon, there isn't anything left for him to do. We walk hand-in-hand from his room, and I marvel at how nice something so mundane is. Simply walking with the man I love, his hand in mine, is something I never imagined I'd get to do. I want so badly to go with him, though I know how ridiculous that is.

"Oh! Wait here." His brows fly upward but I hold up one finger and he nods, silently promising to obey. I sprint down the hall to my room and rummage through my wardrobe.

"Where the hells…ah there!" I hold up my prize, smiling widely. I decide to take an extra minute to put on a new shirt and tame my wild hair before running back to Alaric. He looks me up and down when I arrive.

"Was my sweater not good enough for you?"

"I thought that was sure to get the soldier gossip mill running full steam ahead, your highness," I say with a roll of my eyes and he laughs. "Here, this is for you." I reach up and pin the wolf's head broach I bought all those months ago at the market to the lapel of his coat. He studies it and then looks back to me.

"When did you get this?"

"An embarrassingly long time ago, actually, but that isn't important." His lips curl. "Wear it for me." I can't find the words to explain that I want something of me there with him (other than my blood that he's going to take), to protect him. My father's people used to wear strips of their lover's family clan colors woven in their braids when they rode off to battle, like a talisman to keep them protected when they were far from home. This will have to do.

"I will," he says solemnly before pulling me into another slow, deep kiss. He's trying to tell me things with this kiss that he can't say in words, at least not yet. I kiss him back, echoing his feelings. I could tell him that I'm in love with him now, but I don't want to do that. I don’t want it to be a declaration as he rides off to face death. I want it to be something that's said without a blade hanging over either of our heads—hopefully a metaphorical blade, of course. Again, fear crawls through my veins, but I try to push it away and put on a brave face as da would say.

Alaric pulls away and sighs. "I must go."

I nod and walk him to the door. Takara walks up as soon as Alaric walks away, taking Xanthus' reins from a squire and pulling himself easily atop the giant horse. I would swear that the animal meets my eyes and bows his head, promising me that he'll protect his master, the man we both love. Alaric meets my gaze once more, inclines his head, and then rides towards the gates to meet the gathering cadre.

I exhale roughly and Takara reaches down to grip my hand. I squeeze it back and the two of us stand on the steps of the cabin for what feels like hours, until the very last of the soldiers ride through the gates and disappears from sight.