She’d never seen them like this before. Not in hundreds of years.

  She was a ragdoll in his grip as he spun with her, knocking her off balance to back her into the massive oak tree beside her. He shoved one gloved hand into the hair at the back of her head to protect it as he pressed her into the trunk of the tree, his other hand braced against the wood, caging her in.

  Anna’s breath released in a ragged whoosh.

  “Why?” he hissed, his lips a mere breath from hers. “Why in the nine hells would you give yourself to the man who stole you from me? Did you really believe I would ever let anyone else have you?”

  Anna could see now that he was trembling with his emotions; she could feel his strong body quaking against hers.

  His body so close, so hard and real against her was bringing a tidal wave of sensations crashing down upon her. She remembered the way he felt in bed, gentle but persistent, and always hungry for more. She couldn’t get the image of his bare chest, his sculpted arms and skilled, capable fingers out of her head. The memories were drowning her. She felt dizzy there, trapped between her king and a hard place, dazed by her thoughts of the past and by the red burning heat in his gaze.

  “No, Christopher,” she whispered back, her voice just as unsteady. He was her best friend, her lover. His body and the consummate mind that controlled it had taken her to the edge and driven her over time and time again. This body. This one right here, trapping her against the tree.

  It’s been too long, she thought, recklessly. Her gaze slipped to the pulse in the side of his throat. Her fangs throbbed, her vision shifting into stark outlines. He was upset and she should pay attention, but….

  She was horribly distracted and unable to concentrate as he let go of her hair and, without moving from where he held her so hard against the tree, he proceeded to pull off his gloves. His eyes never left hers as he tossed them aside. One hand returned to brace against the tree beside her. The other, he used to gently trace his thumb across her bottom lip. She shivered at his touch, knowing full well what those hands were capable of.

  “Did he threaten your life?” he asked as he pressed down with his thumb, parting her lips to slip to her teeth. Anna suppressed a moan. She shook her head, just a little. He allowed her limited movement.

  “No,” she said, tasting him where he ran his finger over her fangs – teasing her. “He threatened yours.”

  Christopher’s eyes flared, the fire in them erupting. His lips curled, and he shook his head. “Oh little Anna,” he reprimanded. “I can take care of myself.”

  His hand was gripping her chin, turning her head, before she fully realized what was happening. Comprehension zapped through her, a charged millisecond of awareness, before Christopher’s long, sharp fangs were piercing the side of her throat and sinking deep.

  Anna cried out, the sensation unforgiving. It was painful in the most satisfying way. It was perfectly terrible, and it was everything she wanted and everything she feared.

  She felt a vibration of a growl thrum up through him and move into her as he pulled her blood from her veins and swallowed it down. She moaned when pushed her so hard into the tree, she was sure she would leave an imprint. He was real. The pain he so expertly, erotically dealt her kept her grounded – or she would think it all a dream.

  Her hands slid to his damp hair and fisted in his thick waves. So many nights she’d spent with her hands just like this, holding on for dear life as he rode her hard, drinking her down and driving into her as if he would never get enough of her.

  He never did get enough of her.

  Christopher slid his arm between her and the tree, wrapping it around her waist. He pulled her away from the tree, bringing them to the ground without releasing her from his bite. Her body was beginning to feel heavy… languid.

  She closed her eyes when his fingers curled over the top of her tunic, and she knew he would tear it from her. He always did. The monster in him was in charge now.

  The material stretched taut for a split second before it ripped away from the creamy skin beneath it. Cool air caressed Anna’s flesh, brushing across her firm breasts and instantly hardening her nipples. Christopher shifted above her, and those tender nubs brushed exquisitely against the hardness of his chest, drawing from her throat another moan.

  He pulled at her blood more leisurely now, controlling her with his teeth, sending rivulets of pleasure-pain through her as she moved beneath him, and he corrected her above. She felt him take the dagger that had been in her belt and move it to the side before he curled his fingers around the tops of her breeches. She tensed, her muscles bunching as if to fight, and he gave her an animal’s warning, pressing his teeth more firmly into her throat to hold her still. A moment later, he ripped the breeches off her with almost vicious resolve.

  She made a surprised, helpless sound as they bit into her skin and then shredded, the sueded leather sliding off her smooth hips and thighs, irrevocably baring her flesh to his touch.

  His hands were at once on her hips, his touch demanding, rough but tender, impatient and loving. His fingers dug in, and Anna pressed her bottom lip firmly between her teeth as her king slowly began to pull his fangs from her neck.

  It hurt. It was more than the physical sensation; he was leaving her, disconnecting them. She desperately didn’t want him to. She wanted to give all of herself to him, to lay there and sacrifice for him until her last shaky breath.

  She shuddered as he lifted away, and night air filled the space between them. She opened her eyes and was caught in his gaze.

  Wicked.

  It was the first thought she had staring up at him. There was a drop of blood on his lip. His handsome face wore an expression of both triumphant bliss and depraved intent. As usual, he’d gotten what he wanted from her – and he wanted more.

  He smiled, showing her the wicked sharp fangs he’d used to hold her down and drink her in, and a delicious thrill rushed through her, squeezing tightness into her nipples and moisture between her legs. Her own monster was rising now.

  Like a succubus from another realm, Anna ran her tongue over the tips of her own fangs and gazed at him through heavy-lidded, lust-filled eyes.

  Christopher’s smile turned nasty. He reared back, rising to straddle her as his gaze raked over her lithe, naked form.

  With cat-like grace, Anna tempted the fates, lifting her arms over her head and stretching to allow him to take in every inch of her with those dark, fiercely ardent eyes.

  *****

  Christopher felt the madness clawing its way back up his spine. No one tasted like Darianna. Her blood was a nectar, an elixir of the gods, sating him and feeding him and sending him careening into the heavens. And yet here he was, wanting more of her. She was stunning. So very, very beautiful. How many times had he dreamed of her over the last two centuries – dreamed of her laid out beneath him just as she was now?

  When she closed her eyes and arched her back beneath his palm as he cupped her breast and brushed his thumb over her nipple, he couldn’t quiet his own growl of deepening need. He could not afford to bite her again. He wanted it so badly…. She teased and taunted him, deliberately pushing him once more toward his own precarious ledge. He wanted to punish her, own her, teach her one delirious lesson after another.

  But she could only take so much of his teeth; she was drained as it was.

  And there were other ways.

  He braced his hand on the ground beside her and leaned over her. She closed her eyes, arching to meet him, wantonly pressing her body into his. A fever of need heated his veins, burning through him to the core. He grasped her chin and drew close, whispering his command across her lips. “Look at me, Anna.”

  She tried to turn away, ever playing hard to get, but his hand slipped to her throat and he squeezed his warning. Her eyes slid open, shining with lust. He gazed down into them, and slid ever closer to that proverbial edge.

  With one hand, he ripped open the ties on his own leather breeches and freed himself from his ever-tightening constraints. So much blood rushed into him in that moment, he nearly cried out with the sensation. He was painfully hard for her.

  He rose slightly, just enough, and his grip on her throat tightened as he positioned himself between her legs. He could feel the heat of her body radiating off her, calling to him, begging him to bathe in its warmth.

  He hesitated, desperately wanting to make this moment last forever. But Anna gritted her white teeth, baring her fangs, and her nails were suddenly at his back, digging deep. Christopher hissed in pain, and as she’d no doubt wanted, his monster once more took over.

  With a single, cruel thrust, he drove into her, breaching the slick, tight walls of her womanhood and sinking to the hilt. Anna’s beautiful body went taut beneath him, her eyes shut tight to the pain, her delightfully agonized and rapturous scream filling the shadows of the forest.

  “Open for me,” he demanded as he slowly pulled out and she tossed her head to the side. He drove forward again, her tender sheath squeezing him to the point of insanity. A delirium was rising, a blissful, gluttonous, intolerable sensation that clouded his mind and made colors melt.

  He swore softly, the hand he used to brace himself on the ground curling into a claw, digging into the dirt. His body shook with pent up need, and his eyes felt as though they were on fire.

  Beneath him, Anna panted softly and met his thrusts, her eyes now shut tight no matter what he commanded.

  “So sweet,” he heard himself say. He still held her throat; the demon in him brushed its thumb across the wound he’d given her. He knew it was tender and raw. Her quick intake of breath satisfied the beast in him. She was marked – she was his.

  He wanted more. Always more.

  She shivered hard and cried out as he ducked his head to her chest and took her nipple in his teeth, biting just hard enough for it to hurt. He allowed the taut button to roll between his fangs – and when the tip broke through, drawing blood, Anna made the most delicious, helpless sound.

  Christopher closed his eyes. Her body was sending him into a raging oblivion.

  He straightened, and as his mouth claimed hers in a with a demanding kiss that bruised both of their lips, he pulled out and slammed all of the way into her, swallowing her scream. His movements became faster, more urgent and driven. His mouth opened her up beneath him, his tongue delving deep, hungry for more.

  He was no longer in control. He released her throat and grabbed both of her arms, taking her by the wrists and pressing them into the ground on either side of her.

  Anna cried out in rhythmic ecstasy beneath him, and he muffled each sound, drinking them in as he had her blood. When he finally broke the kiss, he heard his name slip past her lips, and it was his undoing.

  Faster, he took her. Harder.

  Again…

  And again.

  Until the entire forest stopped breathing as he drew back and thrust into her one final time, driving as deep as he could, and knowing that while it was sheer bliss and perfection, it would never be enough. Not with her. Not if they lived ten thousand years.

  Anna bucked beneath him and convulsed around him, milking him for everything he was worth. He emptied into her over and over again, each throb drawing from his throat a cry of divine rapture.

  What seemed like an eternity later, he released her wrists, and her hands were instantly in his hair, pulling him down to her once more. He obliged, slowly lowering his body until he lay partially on top of her, his chest to hers, their breathing ragged, their hearts racing, their bodies tangled in sweat and satisfaction.

  “I love you, Anna,” he told her softly, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of her. Lavender, frankincense soap, blood and sex. “My Anna….”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Darianna wanted to sleep. She was so tired, and Christopher was laying beside her, his hard form pressed so tightly to hers that she should have felt free to close her eyes and drift away. They’d eaten, taking berries and nuts from the surrounding forest, and Christopher had made certain she’d swallowed every drop of the water he carried in a flask in one of his armor’s pockets.

  She was sated and exhausted and peaceful. Dreams should have welcomed her.

  But they didn’t. Despite everything, Anna literally didn’t feel safe to sleep. Something in her Empyrean brain was keeping her guard up just enough.

  As they’d lain together earlier that night, her head on his chest, his arms around her, Christopher had told her that Colonel Dax and the first of his two Knights were out of commission. She’d taken care of the second Knight herself. Rafe was being held prisoner back at the Keep. So, what was it? What was troubling her?

  Beside her, Christopher moved out from under her and rose on one elbow to gaze down at her. She looked into those dark gray eyes and saw reflected within them the same sudden trepidation she was feeling herself. He knows, she thought, trying not to frown. She didn’t want anything to ruin this moment, especially not fear.

  She watched him steadily as his gaze then slid down her body to settle a few feet away at the torn scraps he had made of her clothing.

  She knew his thought then: What have I done? And that knowledge almost made her laugh out loud. He never had been able to control himself with her. It was comforting to know that no matter how much time passed, some things never changed.

  He sat up completely and began to stand. Anna rose with him, brushing the clover and twigs from her long mass of hair. She said nothing as Christopher stopped and watched her with ever darkening eyes. She was completely naked, and his gaze wouldn’t let her forget it.

  Let him look, she thought as the corners of her mouth curled. But at the back of her mind was that niggling sensation. All was not right.

  Instinctively, she stopped messing with her hair and peered around the small clearing. When she turned back, it was to find Christopher peeling off the tight, long-sleeved black tunic he wore. His muscles flexed and shifted like molten stone as he lifted it over his head and then turned it right side out for her. She got an eye-full of him in that moment that flooded her instantly wet once more. She blushed and ducked her head behind her curtain of hair.

  “Put it on, Anna,” he said, holding the tunic out for her. His voice was a deep rumble after sex that had always made her feel like liquid inside. She took the tunic from his hands and couldn’t help but notice the subtle changes in him that heightened his attractiveness to a dangerous degree. His hair was messed up and his smile was easier now as he caught her eyeing him. And in nothing more than leather pants and boots, he looked like a god of war, built like a living shrine to a powerful deity.

  But there was an uneasiness to his eyes that didn’t match the rest of his handsome face and, Anna blinked. We’re distracting each other, she thought. And something is wrong.

  Hurriedly, she slipped the tunic over her shoulders. It fell to a length just above her knees. She was swimming in it. She rolled up the sleeves to a workable length and pulled on her boots.

  As she did, Christopher gathered up his leather armor from where he’d tossed it. His gaze often slid to the forest line. He was nervous.

  “I’m going to open a portal,” he said as he slipped on his own boots and straightened once more.

  Anna waited silently, but she was feeling impatient now. The sooner the better, she thought, as her gaze flicked to the edges of the clearing.

  Christopher raised his right hand palm-out toward the center of the clearing. It began to glow, and Anna dared hope. But then he froze, and the glow died out. His head whipped toward her. “Anna, come close.”

  His eyes once more skirted to the tree line. He lowered his hand… and Anna felt it too.

  It was a signature in the air, a vibration she now recognized. There was another Empyrean nearby. Anna moved toward him, but noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She glanced in that direction, taking in the patch of crumpled grass and clover where they had been laying only moments before. It wasn’t something that she’d seen – it was the lack of something that had been there before.

  Something was missing. It had been set to the side, she recalled, its pearl handle and platinum blade reflecting the light that streamed through the canopy of trees overhead.

  But it wasn’t there now.

  The dagger! Her mind screamed. The dagger is gone!

  And then a horrible sound drew her attention back to Christopher. He was looking down at his abdomen where the long, wickedly sharp blade of a dagger was sticking out of his stomach, coated in a thin sheen of crimson blood.

  Anna was frozen in the horror of what she was seeing. A part of her mind simply could not process it. It wasn’t real. And as she stood there not breathing, the dagger was pulled from Christopher’s middle and thrust back in, this time through his chest. In reality, it happened in the space of mere seconds, but time moved in a distorted fashion in the midst of trauma.

  The second stab drew a grunt of pain from Christopher, whose knees gave out, sending him crashing to the ground. As he fell, the man behind him was revealed.

  Rafe Calumn yanked the dagger from Christopher’s body as the king dropped to his knees. His eyes burned a hellish amber-green fire as he glared at Anna. A smirk of maligned menace twisted his features. There were several bruises along his chin and cheek bones, a cut in his bottom lip, and his clothes were torn.

  “Leave it to my luck to finally track you down just in time to find you in Thorn’s arms.” Rafe’s voice was gruff with hatred and hoarse as if he’d been running. His fangs were bared, and there were dark circles under his glowing eyes. He sneered as he added with obvious disgust, “Riding his cock like the whore I’ve always known you really are.”

  Anna didn’t waste time with speech. She dropped toward Christopher, instinct winning over logic. She only wanted to stop the bleeding. As she tried to kneel, she caught the flash of something shiny in the dirt a few feet away. It was Christopher’s wedding ring. It had fallen when he’d shredded her clothing the night before.

  Rafe moved much more quickly than she did, despite the obvious damage he’d taken at someone’s hands. Anna cried out as she was violently shoved from the side and went flying across the small clearing to land on her back. She rolled several times and came to a stop.

 

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