Lothaire (37 page)

Growing increasingly frustrated, he said, “And when our work is done for the night, when dawn comes . . .
what then
?”

She smoothed her hair back. “I don’t understand.”

“Do you know what happiness is?”

“It’s watching the light dim in a good man’s eyes. It’s having subjects grovel. It’s wielding the power over life and death.”

“No, Saroya. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but . . . each of those
things is a
process
. Not an outcome.” He gave a bitter laugh. “You have no more idea of what happiness is than I do.”

“You
are
growing besotted with your little mortal concubine. Look at you—it’s almost as if you’re pining for her. Almost as if
she
were your Bride.”

Which Elizabeth likely was. Though Saroya had once believed she herself had triggered Lothaire’s blooding, she no longer did.

For him to have feelings for such a loathsome creature? Something larger was at work here.

Still, he’d never believe Elizabeth was his; the very idea would be galling to a male of his rank and standing.

If Lothaire hadn’t seen the truth by now, then it was because he didn’t
want
to.

Doubts ate at Lothaire’s confidence, eroding it.

Even if he could bring himself to believe that Elizabeth was his Bride—and that was a very big if—there was nothing he could do about it.

He’d already set his destiny into motion. He was inextricably bound to his fate—compelled not merely to cast out Elizabeth’s soul as the girl thought. . . .

It couldn’t be her.

Surely.

Because he’d been so averse to her humanity, Lothaire had never allowed himself even to
consider
that Elizabeth might be his Bride.

Now, apparently, I’m going there.

It was possible that Elizabeth hadn’t blooded him in their early encounters because she hadn’t been old enough. Females from other species usually didn’t trigger a blooding unless they were grown.

At seventeen, Elizabeth hadn’t awakened him. When she was eighteen, one glance at Saroya had sparked his heart and body to life.

Was this due to Saroya’s arrival? Or Elizabeth’s age?

No, no, no. Goddess trumps mortal trailer trash.

Lusty
mortal trailer trash—with a predilection for licking his fangs and slowly sucking on his tongue.

Of all the matches made this Accession, of all the tales of woe and bliss between mates, not one had included a human.

Why would
I
draw the short straw?
Even Regin the Radiant’s “mortal” male had ended up being a Lorean berserker.

Saroya crossed to him now. “Imagine how your family would’ve reacted to Elizabeth Peirce. Would Ivana have approved of her?”

Ivana would have gone into a frothing rage. Her only offspring shunning a goddess for a lowly “animal”? Where was the logic in that?

Stefanovich would have laughed, sneering, “The Dacian son is no better than a Horde vampire.” He would have asked Lothaire if Elizabeth tasted of wine and honey.

And I’d have to say yes.

“You know Elizabeth can’t be your Bride,” Saroya said placidly. “Aside from the fact that I’m a
goddess
, and therefore an impeccable match for a king like you, consider this: no vampire could terrorize his female as you have her.”

Saroya was right. Wouldn’t his instincts have prevented him from harming Elizabeth?

Instead, he’d subjected this mortal to death row. He’d belittled her at every opportunity, holding her imminent death over her, taunting her with it.

Mentally tormenting her.
Behold the ocean you’ll never touch, the jewels you’ll
never own. Desire the male who will never want you back and feel the pleasure
you’ll never experience again. . . .

Bile rose in Lothaire’s throat.
It isn’t Elizabeth. It’s just
not.

Even his uncle Fyodor hadn’t tortured his Bride like this, and she’d been a reviled enemy.

Ivana had told Lothaire, “You’ll be a good and true king to your Bride.” But he hadn’t been to Elizabeth. He’d made the girl’s life a living hell.

Not her, not her.

And yet, as his restlessness increased and his doubt weighed on him to a crushing degree, his first impulse was to touch Elizabeth.

Not
because she was his Bride, but because she could pleasure him, making him forget his troubles for a time. “Force her to surface,” he bit out.

Saroya blinked at him. “Are you dismissing me?”

“Yes.”

“Why aren’t you even trying to seduce me?”

“You feel no desire for me. You never have. I can wait for the human—who does.”

“How do you know it won’t be better with me?”

“Because it can’t
possibly
be better with anyone.” The words said aloud rocked him—the
truth
said aloud.

Am I willing to give up that pleasure?
What choice did he have?

“What is so superior with her?” Saroya demanded. “Tell me what Elizabeth does that puts you into such a lather. Do her thighs spread in welcome? Does she moan into your mouth?”

Frustration mounted. He resented this female before him.

“Does she look at you with need?”

“Like she’ll
die
if I don’t fuck her,” he hissed.

“I will practice that expression in the mirror for when
we
make love.”

“Cease the deception!” He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “You have no intention of bedding me. The rumors of your virginity are true. You’ve never known a man.”

“But only because I hadn’t found my mate.”

In an icy tone, he said, “You should be above lying to a mere vampire like me, should you not, goddess?”

Long moments passed. “Yes. You are right.” Her guise of mild concern transformed into a gloating one. “Oh, Lothaire, you were too arrogant to believe a female wouldn’t want you sexually. But I am
above
base desires.”

“You freely admit your treachery? You never intended to share my bed!”
Lying to me, betraying me. Already!

“You have a goddess for your Bride. I was born differently, made
differently. Is sex so important to you? We are talking about conquering kingdoms together! Is bedding me so critical? That is what
concubines
are for.”

He could maintain a harem, taking a new female every night. He didn’t require a Bride for those needs.
United front, Lothaire?
“I hadn’t planned to have any other females. They seed dissension.”

“You are the most singular male.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “It’s not a question of sex. It’s a question of
her
.” When he said nothing, her lips parted. “You’re falling for the mortal! Apprise yourself of this fact: soon you will destroy her very soul.”

“You think you have me at your mercy?”

“I
do
.”

“I could use the ring to force the Horde to follow me.”

“Tricky ring, precarious power. You will need me by your side for as long as you seek to rule them—or you’ll be challenged constantly.”

He couldn’t deny this. Lothaire didn’t meet one of the Horde’s two sacred requirements. Just as Hag had predicted, his Bride was the key to his throne.

“Without me, Lothaire, you face an eternity of sedition. How will you conquer the Daci with your kingdom mired in rebellion?”

“Then perhaps I’ll keep you
and
Elizabeth. You will be my queen, and she will be our dirty little secret. A hidden concubine who comes out only in my bed.”
Perfect.

Just as he deserved a goddess for a queen, he deserved a young, nubile female to appease his lusts.

“You want me to share this body, Lothaire? That will not happen.”

“I say it will.”

“Do you remember the rest of our conversation that first night in the woods?” Saroya asked, her voice velvety. “I do. Often.”

He’d thought of it often as well. . . .

Tracing within inches of her, he cupped her nape with a shaking hand. “The only thing greater than my need is my strength. Your mortal form is too fragile for me to claim. But I must finish this.”

“Then I will not yield this body until you destroy Elizabeth’s soul and make me whole,” Saroya said. “For now, you may take your physical release in some way—after you swear you will do these things you’ve offered. Vow to your Lore, and make this unbreakable pact with me.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, and he felt as if time had slowed just so he could appreciate how momentous his next words would be. “I vow to the Lore that I will do everything in my power to extinguish Elizabeth’s soul forever, then make this body undying.”

She seemed vaguely surprised, then pleased. “Very good, my king. . . .”

Now Saroya said, “You made your vows, Lothaire. You will be
compelled
by them to find the ring in order to make this body immortal—and to rid it of Elizabeth.”

He’d been right that night; his words had been momentous. Just not for the reasons he’d assumed. “Release me from this pact.”

Her lips curled, almost a smile. “I vow to the Lore that I will
never
release you.” She was enjoying this. “These vows are so compelling, are they not? Remember my acolytes? Your fate is sealed, Lothaire.”

It is.
He knew it. His path was clear.

“Console yourself, vampire. If you remain steadfast, you’ll soon have everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything Ivana wanted for you.”

But he might have begun to want
more
.

“Now, Lothaire, shall I summon your—temporary—concubine?”

Eyes narrowed, he grated, “Yes,
flower
. Have her bathed and dressed in red silk in my bed. Oh, and skip the garish makeup.”

 32

E
llie woke to shivers glancing up and down her body.

Lothaire lay beside her in his bed, trailing the backs of his fingers from her navel to the valley between her breasts.

She was dressed in a sexy teddy; he was naked.

“I like you in red,” he said, his voice raspy, making her shiver even more. “I’ve been awaiting you.”

“What . . . what are you doing?”

“I’ve decided to give you a chance to atone for your earlier insolence. With head.”

“
My
insolence. Did Saroya just recede on her own?” That would mean . . . “Oh, God, she delivered me like this to your bed? Or did you just get through with her here?”

Ellie didn’t feel like they’d been intimate. But how could she tell for certain?

“One or the other, it matters naught.”

“You’re right—either way, it’s
sick
. You and Saroya are sick!” She shoved at his chest but couldn’t budge him. “Get away from me!”

He easily captured her wrists in one of his hands, pinning them above her.

When he covered one breast with his free hand, gently kneading, she cried, “Don’t touch me! I don’t want you!”

He bent down to kiss her, but she craned her head away. He pinched her chin, holding her still . . . she clamped her lips closed against his.

He jerked back. “What is this? Be like you were with me the other times! When you melted for me.”

“That was before I fully understood what a nasty piece of work you are.”

“Because of a few shifter beheadings? Come on, Lizvetta, it’s not as if I went around cock-slapping gnomes.”

Her jaw dropped. “You are
amazing
! A deadly, wretched, friendless monster. Pretty on the outside and not much more. God, just find the ring and put me out of my misery!”

“Be like you were with me! That was
not
a request.”

“Fuck you, vampire.”

“Soon.”

“Let go!” When he didn’t, she screamed,
“Let go, let go, LET GO!”

“Dark gods, shut up!” he yelled, but he did release her.

She scurried from the bed. “Why would you be unfaithful to Saroya? The first time we were together was because she was late for a date, the second just happened, but this would be premeditated. Why can’t you just wait for your Bride? It isn’t
me
you want—you’ve told me a thousand times how inferior to Saroya I am. I swear I will let her rise.”