Authors: A.C. Warneke
“You are a
Foecundusque
… a Breeder,” he told her, his fingers moving over her skin, relaxing her even as she struggled against the hidden bonds holding her still. “I have spent many years searching for someone like you; you have no idea how pleased I am to have found you.”
“You can’t be sure.”
His teeth flashed in a half smile. “I can smell it in you; when I drank your blood I could taste it. There is no doubt that you are a Breeder.’
“But….”
Ignoring her protests, he lightly pressed his hand down on her stomach. “I will plant my seed in your belly and be gifted with a child.”
Why didn’t she know that Aradians could reproduce? They were vamps, sort of; they shouldn’t be able to reproduce. But her father’s words came back to her, about the Aradians consorting with her father’s people; about his father’s dictate to never have children. It had only been a day since he told her and yet his words had seemed like a dream, fading to distant memory.
Realization slammed itself into her head; her father’s warnings, the Aradian’s words, and she finally understood. If she didn’t exist, if her father didn’t exist, there would never be any more Aradians. She was nothing more than a means to creating more of his kind, more… vampires. “No.”
“I think you will change your mind,” he said softly, seductively. He reached out and ran his fingers over her lips, making them tingle. Her tongue darted out and she tasted his spicy darkness and sensual heat; heady and potent. No! She had to resist him. She couldn’t allow him to create more monsters, even if he didn’t feel like a monster. Even if he was warm and his heart beat next to her ear as he cradled her head against his chest. Even if she wanted him like she had never wanted another man, had wanted him for almost a decade….
She jerked her head away from him and tried to glare but the impact was ruined when she ran her tongue over her lips, over the spot where he touched them. She could still taste him. “It’s only because you marked me; it’s the only way you can make me want you.”
He wrapped his hand around her slender throat and she felt the heat emanating from his touch. Surprised, she put her hand over his, feeling the strength of his long fingers, the power. Lifting her eyes, she looked at the chiseled line of his jaw, his sculpted mouth, the firm, sensuous lips; the etched cheek bones of a pagan god; his straight, patrician nose. She closed her eyes, afraid of looking any further. Unable to resist, she looked anyway, memorizing every line of his devastating face. Her body was melting under the heat of his touch and desire burned low in her belly. Despite everything, she wanted him.
His nostrils flared slightly and his cheeks flushed in arousal; she could feel the thickening of his cock. Heated musk swirled around her as his body responded to hers. Her eyes slowly met his and she saw the desire churning in the brilliant green depths. Her breath caught in her throat; he was so beautiful and virile and alive.
Their eyes held for a moment longer until the sensation of fire on her neck became too much. She closed her eyes as the skin of her throat burned hotter and brighter and just as she was about to cry out, the pain stopped and his hand was gone. The exhaustion was gone. She opened her eyes and looked at him, catching the brief look of astonishment in his gaze as he looked at her. Brushing her fingers over the no longer burning flesh, expecting to feel blisters, she felt only smooth skin. “What happened?”
The strange emotion was gone from his expression and he smiled at her, seducing her once more with his dark, brooding gaze. Trailing his fingers along her neck, he held her eyes. “The mark is gone. It matters not, though; you cannot resist me.”
Lowering her lashes, fighting the pull that existed between them, that had bound her to him since she was sixteen, she sighed, “No, I cannot.”
Through her narrowed vision, she watched him sit back against the bench, his guard lowering, his confidence soaring. She may not be able to resist him but she was still Malorie Sinclair; there was nothing supernatural holding her back any longer.
She couldn’t risk Toby’s capture by looking for her father and son; she’d have to go at it alone for a few months. Once she felt confident in her escape, she would find her father and son. She knew their patterns, she knew the places they would hide; in time she would find then and never let Toby go again. But first she was going to have to make a blind run for it; away from her father and Toby and pray….
For a miracle.
“You will enjoy….”
Before he could finish that sentence, knowing the truth of his words without having to hear them coming from his beautifully crafted lips, Malorie took off at a run from the prone position. It was a bit awkward at first and she stumbled but as soon as she found her footing, she was running at full speed. Across unfamiliar grounds. She had no idea where she was going, she just knew that she had to run, run as fast as she ever ran in her life, hoping she wouldn’t step in a hole and twist her ankle.
“What the?!” His voice wasn’t far enough behind; she had to run harder, faster.
She could feel him moving in on her, closing the distance as if she were standing still. Her heart jack-hammered in her chest, but not from exertion. He was too close, the air shimmered with the heat of his body as his arms wrapped around her. And suddenly she was falling forward. Instinctively, she tried to put her hands out to stop her fall but her arms were pinned to her sides. She squeezed her eyes shut as the momentum carried her down.
The air came out of her lungs in a whoosh as she landed against the unforgiving ground, his hard body landing on top of hers. Dazed, feeling the muscles of his chest against her spine, his legs against hers, her body melted for him and for one brief, insane moment, she wondered why she fought. His breath was hot against her ear, his voice low in warning, “Stop.”
Ignoring the dull throbbing in her head from having all of the oxygen forced from her lungs, she somehow managed to roll over. Her arms were trapped between their bodies but her legs were free. “Let go of me.”
“Stop fighting me,” he growled, his green eyes burning with frustration and desire.
Trying to break his hold, she used her legs, swinging them and trying to land them anywhere on his body. A knee to his thigh, a heel to his calf; anything. “Let go.”
His ankles hooked over her legs, pinning them to the ground. Twisting just enough, she freed her hands and began pushing at him, desperate to get him off of her before she succumbed. Using one hand, his fingers wrapped around her wrists and he lifted her arms above her head until his chest was pressed down against hers, until his face was just inches from hers. “Stop fighting.”
“Never,” she vowed, futilely, the inevitability of giving in causing no end to her despair.
His eyes were brilliant, even in the dark, and she felt his heart pounding in rhythm to hers. Her breathing was harsh, ragged, and she didn’t think it was from the run; it had everything to do with him, the man who would enslave her. Every dream she had about him, the memory of being in his arms, of being bit, of having sex with him, of loving him, flooded her and she didn’t want to fight him. In some sick and twisted way he was her destiny. It had to be sick and twisted because he was her enemy.
There was so much she didn’t know, so much her father hadn’t known.
She could feel him between her thighs, his groin pressed against her core, his penis thickening and lengthening. Lust, pure and powerful, roared through her body, and she struggled against her own desire to let him have sex with her, for that was all it could possibly be. He rocked his hips and her eyes widened in her face, looking up at him in fear and awareness. Her light musk washed over them and a low growl came from the back of his throat. She stopped struggling beneath him, her heart was racing in her chest. She could feel his heart beat in her chest and she wanted him. Desperately.
The man lying on top of her would use her and discard her on a whim, so why did she desire him? It was unnatural; she was unnatural.
Her breath hitched in her throat as heat from his body surrounded her, seduced her. His erection prodded her stomach, thick and heavy, and her hips rose slightly to accept him. The knowledge that she should be fighting him, not encouraging him, whispered in the back of her mind but the sensations he evoked in her were too strong. His head started to lower and she was going to let him kiss her; she was going to revel in his kiss. And then she was going to revel in the fucking….
Abruptly, he pushed off her, standing up and turning his back to her. His body was tense as he scrubbed his fingers through his thick black hair. The muscles on his back rippled in the moonlight and it was obvious that he was bewildered, angry, though she couldn’t understand why. He was the one trying to enslave her; why did he act as if it was the other way around?
Watching him, she continued to lie on the ground trying to catch her breath, missing the heat of his body. But she knew that his rejection of her was a blessing, no matter how much she wished he had stayed on top of her. She slowly scooted away from him as inconspicuously as possible. It didn’t matter if she made no sound; he seemed preoccupied with his thoughts. Carefully, her eyes never straying from the back of his head, she got to her feet, still moving away from him.
Had he not stopped himself, she would have let him do whatever he wanted to her and that terrified her. She almost let him fuck her without even thinking about fighting; no, she wanted him to fuck her. She still wanted it. Her only hope lay in escape; without the mark he shouldn’t be able to track her down.
As he continued to brood with his back towards her, she spun around and took off at a dead run once again. It didn’t matter if her body begged her to stay and give in to dark temptation; he was still a bloody Aradian, in league with vampires. Her damn enemy.
Her eyes darted across the landscape, searching for the best route, a place to make an escape. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw a few shadows separate from the darkness and move towards her. With the panic rising in her chest, she continued to race towards the tree line. If she could make it to the woods, she might be able to find a place to hide….
Strong bands of steel wrapped around her once more, lifting her off the ground. The familiar blaze erupted along her spine where his chest touched her back. Her flailing legs didn’t even faze him as she kicked along his shins; his hold on her simply tightened, cutting off the oxygen to her lungs. There was no escape and she cried out in defeat, “Nooo.”
His breath tickled her ear and his warm, spicy scent threatened to overwhelm her senses once again. She held her body stiffly, refusing to give in to physical lust; it was just a chemical reaction. It wasn’t real. She had to fight, to give her father time….
A few unnaturally gorgeous men and women came into her line of vision – the shadows that had separated from the darkness. All of their eyes glowed in the darkness; they weren’t vamps but Aradians. So many of them; she hadn’t known…. In a low growl, he ground out, “Members of my clan.”
Her eyes flew from one to another and the only one she recognized was the man with the blond hair and diamond-encrusted ear lobes. Oddly, he bore a vague similarity to the man who held her. His silver green eyes held amusement as he looked at her and then at the man holding her. “Feryn, is there anything else you require?”
She felt his head – Feryn’s head? – move and then he was speaking to the devastating creatures, “Find the man and the boy.”
“No!” She twisted and turned, trying to break his hold on her, managing to free her left arm. She smashed her fist against his mouth and he dropped her to the ground, his hand going to the split lip she gave him. As she lay sprawled on the ground, she looked up at him with raw desperation; she had to save Toby. “Please, let them go, leave them be, please. I’ll give you what you want!”
He laughed softly as he kneeled down in front of her, a trickle of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. One of his hands lowered until it was splayed across her abdomen, the other landed next to her head as he leaned over her. His teeth – no, his fangs – grazed across her throat and her body shivered. To her disgust and shame, it wasn’t in fear. The tip of his tongue moved along her vein and fire torched her nerves. “You’ll give me whatever I want regardless.”
“No,” she protested weakly, her womb heavy with desire for him. She squeezed her hands into fists and had to stifle the whimper that threatened when she felt the sharp pain along her left knuckle. His tooth, his fang, must have grazed her skin when she punched him. It wasn’t much but it did give her some small satisfaction.
His body covered hers and when he rolled his hips she felt the length of his erection against her stomach. She had to gasp for air as he lowered his head, his breath fanning across her face. “I think you’ll find that I have ways to change your mind.”
“I will not give in.” Did he know that she was lying? Why couldn’t it be the truth? Why did she have to fight herself in order to fight him? It was insanity!
“You will,” he said in a soft, liquid voice, clouding her mind. As he pressed his mouth to hers, strange emotions and thoughts filled her and it took her a moment to realize that they were coming from… that they were coming from the Aradian.
*****
He hated having the responsibility of overseeing the vampire abominations during an open feed. Unfortunately, he couldn’t trust any of the vamp-creating Aradians so that left only a handful of Aradians for the job, of which he and his brother were two; Royle was another. And who the hell decided on a last minute feed? He was going to have to make sure that none of the unsuspecting bastards were bitten.