Embrace the Passion (The Blood Rose Series) (6 page)

Still no pain.

Not a single cramp.

No nausea.

Nothing.

He felt … normal. Dizzy in a euphoric way, but normal.

Unbelievable.

He hadn’t felt this way since before he’d become a mastyr a thousand years ago.

Turning to look at Lorelei, a new terrifying suspicion emerged. “How do you feel right now?” Slowly, he made his way back to her, watching her intently.

She held her hands wide, his t-shirt bunched up in one hand. The long shirt she wore once again hung to mid-thigh. “I feel really good. In fact, I feel wonderful.”

He frowned as he searched her eyes. “You touched your chest before I drank from you. Why?”

She shook her head slowly. “I’m not sure. I was feeling strange. My heart was beating hard. It felt heavy, like I had ... too much … blood. Oh, God, no.”

She’d just drawn the same fucking conclusion.

“That’s what I’ve been thinking.”

She looked horror-stricken. “Seth, this can’t be happening. I can’t be so many species
and
a blood rose. I’m Margetta’s daughter, for the Goddess’s sake. I can’t possibly belong to you in this way.”

She dropped the t-shirt on the floor then covered her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry.” His voice sounded dull. He didn’t know what else to say to her. He could only stand where he was and stare at her. Lorelei. A blood rose. Sweet Goddess.

She shook her head back and forth several times. “This can’t be happening. I mean I knew I liked you as in
really
liked you, but—” She turned to face the window once more. “The wolves howled. Did you hear them?”

“I did.”

He wanted to touch her, to offer some comfort, but what could he do or say?

In the end, he decided to tell her what he knew. “I’ve talked enough with Gerrod and Ethan, and more recently with Quinlan, to know that you’re right about being a blood rose. My starvation is gone, as though it never existed. But I shouldn’t have attacked you like that and afterward, I didn’t even know who I had in my arms, I was so deranged by the experience.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “You didn’t know it was me?”

“I barely knew where I was and I don’t like being this out of control. I’m never out of control.”

“No, you’re not, so this must be as horrifying to you as it is to me.”

She put her hand to her throat. “Rosamunde must have known. On some level, she must have known.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I was a blood rose. She must have foreseen this, maybe the attack in the canyon as well, I don’t know.”

His hair had come loose from his woven clasp and he shoved the long strands away from his face. He’d been like a wild beast when he’d gone after Lorelei.

He turned toward her, a different kind of concern surfacing. “Did I hurt you? Just now, when I drank from you and used your body, did I hurt you?”

“No, of course not. I wanted it, too. Couldn’t you tell?”

“I guess so, but I barely remember why I suddenly let go of my rational mind, except that I smelled your blood. You give off this powerful scent, like walking through an apple orchard in early spring.”

She smiled suddenly, a familiar warm expression that reached into his heart and gave a hard squeeze. “That’s funny, because your scent reminds me of those moments when I’m running through an old part of the forest, one full of rich earth and covered in moss.” She closed her eyes briefly, her nostrils flaring. “I can smell you even now.”

He watched pleasure move over face, her head tilted back slightly. She had a beautiful complexion, like cream. Her brows were arched, her chin an exquisite fae point, and the amethysts winked at him, teasing him all over again.

But it was the delight he saw in her features that got to him, that whoever she was as a realm-woman, she knew how to take enjoyment where she found it.

He understood. His path had been difficult for a thousand years, always battling and always alone. But he’d learned how to appreciate the world around him, whether a new piece of music, or a squirrel that often raced across the long rails of his porch, or the moon rising through the tops of the distant trees.

Caught as he was, desire for her rose sharply all over again, and he almost pulled her into his arms.

But the pleasure in her expression transformed into something darker and he could feel her sudden anxiety like a vibration on his skin.

“Lorelei, what is it? What’s wrong?”

* * * * * * * * *

Lorelei didn’t understand why Seth’s desire had risen so sharply, but his scent didn’t lie. The very thing she’d longed for had happened, but now that she’d had sex with Seth, her entire being suddenly recoiled at what was happening between them.

She didn’t know how to do this, to be this intimately connected to anyone, and especially not to a man she’d craved for the past two months. More than anything, she feared being ripped from her world again, as she had at least once a year for the past several decades.

She knew she was no longer at risk from Margetta finding her, but her bones hadn’t yet learned this truth.

As though her body acted instinctively, she shifted to her wolf form and bolted from the room. She heard Seth calling after her, but she quickly wrapped an enthrallment shield around herself and raced through his house, her claws sliding a couple of times on his polished wood floors.

When she reached the back door, she shifted to fae only as long as it took to create fingers and pull the door wide.

Resuming her wolf shape, she leaped onto the nearby path and ran as hard as she could up the steep mountainside, disappearing into the forest itself, following lesser animal trails to avoid detection.

She’d made a den for herself soon after her arrival to the area, setting up a series of enthrallment layers to protect herself from other realm-folk, especially shifters, vampires, and most importantly, Margetta.

Once inside the den, she curled up on the padded, fur comforter, trembling and trying to calm herself. She bore a thick winter coat and was comfortable physically, but her emotions swirled in her body, tearing through her mind, creating an upheaval she couldn’t seem to settle.

She licked the top of her paws and breathed hard. She’d just had sex with the man of her dreams. And it had rocked.

She whimpered, a pure wolfish sound, and huffed a sigh.

She was a blood rose, but she didn’t want to be. She’d watched Batya all that time, as Quinlan had pursued her, chased her, then brought her down.

Her shifter nose had caught the scent of sex between them and the powerful fae part of her had felt the vibrations as they connected.

She’d never connected with anyone, but the blood rose experience was as profound as it was comprehensive. There didn’t seem to be a middle ground, no playing at sex and offering her vein when it suited her. This would be a full-blown commitment and she didn’t know how to do that.

She’d also heard that Seth had almost sunk his fangs into Batya.

She rose up swiftly, her fur lifting all along her back. She growled at the thought of Seth drinking from Batya or any other woman.

She paced in a circle, disgusted and frightened by so many overwhelming and contradictory reactions, as though she rejected a bond with Seth with the same force that she desired him.

For a moment, while she moved back and forth, a different kind of vibration reached her, very faint, and having more to do with the shifter community in Walvashorr than with Seth in particular.

She paused, waiting to see if she could decipher the meaning of this new vibration. Something about the frequency gave her the sense she needed to be moving, but to do what she couldn’t quite figure out.

After a few minutes, the frequency stopped and she curled up once more to the fur comforter, crossing her front paws and settling her muzzle on top of them and wondering what Mastyr Seth made of all that had happened.

* * * * * * * * *

Seth stood at the backdoor of his home. The sun was almost gone and it would be full-dark soon. He stared up at the steep ridge and noticed a faint but very real trail of silvery-teal light.

Instinctively, and in a very realm way, he knew he was looking at Lorelei’s imprint, something only he could see. The sex had established a private marker, something that had occurred when he’d taken her blood, created because of his mastyr vampire status and her blood rose ability.

None of the bonded mastyrs had mentioned this kind of phenomenon, but then Lorelei carried so many species within her that the silvery-teal trail might be specific only to her or perhaps as a result of her shifter DNA.

Part of him, the same part that had jumped on her the moment she’d swept her hair back from her neck, wanted desperately to follow that trail. He wanted to grab the wolf by the scruff of the neck, and haul her pretty ass home, straight into his bedroom where she belonged.

On the other hand, the civilized part of him that believed in self-control above everything else, rejected chasing the female.

He was a man, not a beast.

Yet he’d been
all
beast when he’d taken her blood, then coupled with her. He hadn’t even known who she was.

His conduct appalled, yet in turn, excited him—one helluva dichotomy.

Lorelei was a shifter, which made her more connected to the earth and the animal world than he’d ever be. He lived apart, physically and mentally. He kept his body lean and fighting toned, utterly disciplined. His mind served the realm he ruled.

What was he supposed to do with this new, raw, unexpected turn of events? The other mastyrs had warned him to be ready, that his blood rose would come. He’d prepared himself for a more regular sort of woman, maybe a fae like Batya, or even half-realm, half-human, like Samantha.

But not Lorelei, an anomaly in his world known to have four distinct DNA strands: wraith, fae, shifter and even a small remnant of vampire. Though realm-folk, when birthed from different species, always landed on one side or another, Lorelei could move easily through the first three more dominant forms. He had yet to see the wraith part of her, but Quinlan had.

Once Quinlan had returned with Batya to resume his duties as Mastyr Vampire of Grochaire Realm, Seth had spoken with him several times on the phone. He’d asked about their mutual enemy, the ancient fae-wraith known as Margetta, and in the process had learned a lot about Lorelei as well.

He knew she’d been on the run for seventy-two of her ninety years and that a good-hearted troll, Genevieve, had raised Lorelei and infused her with a generous, giving attitude toward life. While helping Lorelei to escape her prison in one of the mountainous realms, Genevieve had died at Margetta’s hands.

Not long after, Lorelei had lived with the famous Nine Realms couple, Vojalie and Davido, serving in their household only to be discovered by Margetta through a latent mother-daughter tracking system. From that time forward, Lorelei had moved from realm-to-realm and her most recent two-year stay had been in Batya’s free-clinic in Grochaire’s Tennessee access point.

At Ferrenden Peace, apparently the queen had taught Lorelei special skills that would keep Margetta from finding her ever again.

Yet here Seth stood, watching her silvery-teal signature finally fade away, wondering what chance sequence of events had brought Lorelei to his home.

He could have tracked her right now if he’d wanted to, but her absence had given him a chance to recover his wits.

A blood rose.

He shook his head.

He slipped his phone from the pocket of his jeans and cancelled his
doneuse.
Beyond that, he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do.

* * * * * * * * *

With full-dark having finally arrived, Lorelei emerged from her den.

She gave herself a good stretch and an even better shake. The snow still fell, though gently. Sustaining her enthrallment shields, she lifted her head to stare through the thick fir branches, all the way to the dense snow clouds above.

She watched for even the smallest sign of Margetta, who often patrolled the air during the first couple of hours of the night. But for the most part, Lorelei no longer feared discovery by her parent. Rosamunde had helped break the spell, or whatever it was, that had once given Margetta an upper hand over Lorelei.

Keeping her layered shield tight, she listened to the forest. Snow kept the mountains incredibly quiet, which meant she could hear sounds from a long distance away. What surprised her wasn’t what she heard, but rather that not one sound came back to her.

At this time of night, the Shifter Brigade patrols would be all over the mountains, moving at lightning speed on all fours as only wolf-shifters could do. And she’d be able to hear this movement, however muffled by a layer of fresh snow.

Instead, she heard nothing, no running, no movement of wind, no howls as the patrols called to each other.

Her heart-rate increased. Something was wrong.

Was it Seth?

She’d been so overwhelmed by her recent experience with the Mastyr of Walvashorr that she’d forgotten that her first job was to guard him.

She set her paws in motion and within seconds arrived at the backdoor of his house. She listened intently and heard his phone ringing.

A moment later, his voice hit the airwaves. “Ephyx. Where are your men? I haven’t seen one patrol since full-dark.”

Lorelei shifted to her fae self. She’d changed in her den earlier, putting on a fresh pair of jeans, furry snow boots, a long-sleeved t-shirt and a thin, but well-padded jacket. She knocked, then entered the kitchen.

Seth appeared in the doorway, a phone to his ear. He frowned as he met her gaze, but dipped his chin, then waved her forward.

She felt his distress, which put all her senses on high alert as she walked swiftly toward him. He turned in the direction he’d come, a frown forcing his brows low on his forehead.

As he moved into the living room, she followed.

“I can’t believe what you’re telling me.”

“What is it?” Lorelei asked quietly.

He covered the phone with his hand. “The Shifter Brigade.”