ROMAN: Fury of Her King (Kings of the Blood Book 2) (13 page)

“My grandpa’s farm. This is my second favorite spot. Wanna see my
first?” Cynthia jumped off the swing and grabbed his hand. It broke his heart
to stop her from pulling him along but there simply was not time.

As she spun back to look at him with a scowl on her face, he
quickly explained, “Our time is limited, 
agápi mou
. You can show me
another time.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She pushed at the grass with her toe
and spoke without looking up at him. “Will it hurt?”

Shocked, he immediately asked, “Will what hurt?”

She looked at him with so much trust in the depths of her violet
eyes he was forced to pull her into his arms. A brilliant smile on her lovely
face, Cynthia tilted her head to the side and said, “When you make me a King.”
She laughed out loud. “Or a queen or whatever I’m gonna be.”

“How do you know all of this? How could you know?”

“Well, the tall redhead, Kat? She gave me a small course in the
‘You’re In Love with A King of the Blood’ and…”

“You love me?” he interrupted. She swatted his shoulder before
placing the palms of her hand on his chest and looking him right in the eye.
“Yes, you big lug, since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” Narrowing her
eyes, she teased, “But I guess it was already a foregone conclusion.”

Roman rushed to explain, “Oh no, 
agapiméni mou
, not a
foregone conclusion. You are under no obligation to say yes, to…”

Placing her index finger on his lips, she whispered, “Shhhhh, you
silly, silly man.” Removing her finger, she gave him a quick kiss then leaned
back and said, “Of course, I have an obligation…to myself, to you, and most of
all to my heart. I love you. It makes no sense. It seems impossible and the
good Lord knows I fought it, but the truth is there’s nowhere to run that you
won’t find me, that I won’t look for you, that we shouldn’t be together.”

Roman was flabbergasted. Cynthia was even more perfect than he had
ever imagined. She was not only strong, intelligent, more beautiful than
Aphrodite herself, and giving to a fault, but she was his…not only in his heart
but in hers, where he had always dreamed it would be so.

“Are you listening to me, Roman Marinos?” Cynthia sounded irritated
and it was then he realized he’d missed what she was saying.

“I am so sorry, 
i kardí mou
, I was lost in thought.
What were you saying?”

Sighing and shaking her head, Cynthia rolled her eyes then went
on, “As I was saying…after I collapsed and Kat called the ambulance, I ended up
here. I could hear what was going on out there…” She pointed over his shoulder.
“But that was about it and then a guy with gorgeous blonde hair, a harp, and
some arrows who was wearing a toga showed up and filled me in on some more of
who you are, where you came from, and why I’ve been stuck on you pretty much
since the first time I saw your picture in a magazine while I was at business
school.”

“That was the god Apollo, my sweet,” Roman snickered then laughed
out loud when his mate’s mouth dropped open and her eyes grew as big as
saucers.

“No way,” Cynthia breathed. Shaking her head, she took a deep
breath and added, “Good to know. Glad I was on my best behavior.” She ran her
fingers through her short platinum locks. “Do they show up often? The gods?”

“No,” he chuckled, amazed at the resilience of his 
fýlakas
tis kardiás mou
. “They do not.”

“Good,” she nodded. “Well, Apollo said you have something to ask
me and that my life depended on my answer.” She winked. “So, hit me, big guy. I
really want to live, at least long enough to kick Valentina’s ass and kiss you
one more time. Not necessarily in that order.” Waggling her eyebrows, she
purred, “I was really looking forward to dinner with you that night.” At her
admission, Roman wished there was time to kiss her breathless and show her how
much he really loved her, but the proverbial clock was ticking.

Taking her hands in his and stepping back, he said, “We’ll have to
discuss the Valentina situation later, but for now…” Bending down on one knee,
he looked her in the eyes, opened himself body, heart, and soul to her, and
asked, “Will you, Cynthia St. James, take your place at my side as the King of
the Gods decreed so many millennia ago. Will you be my Queen? Will you live
eternity with me as your mate and take sustenance from only my vein as I will
only take from yours?”

Without hesitation, Cynthia got down on her knees, took his face
in her hands, and opened herself to him, just as he had to her, and said with a
confidence he felt all the way to his core, “Yes, Roman Marinos, I will.”

Using incredible speed and strength, the King scooped up his mate,
stood tall and proud, and put his lips to hers, promising his undying love and
commitment with a kiss when his words would simply not be enough.

Pulling back, he said, “There will be time to answer all your
questions when you awake, but for now I need you to open your mind to mine and
see how the ritual will progress.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I wish we
had the time for me to explain everything and answer all your questions, but I
can feel the stutter of your heart and the last drop of strength draining from
your body as you struggle to draw breath. We have to complete the conversion
before you enter the ether and I must make sure my brothers have prepared the
soil for us.”

She nodded and he could sense her fear. Pulling her back to him,
he said, “There can be no questions, no doubt. If this is not what you want,
speak now.”

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and matter-of-factly
stated, “This is what I want. I love you and I can’t imagine life without you.”
Wrinkling her nose, she teased, “It’s just I’ve never died before.”

Hugging her tight and letting his undying belief in not only the
gods, but her strength and the power of their love flow from him to her, he
drew back only when he could feel her again regain her resolve.

The grin on her face said it all and her words made him laugh,
“Now, get outta here and get ready for the ride of your life, pal.” Pulling out
of her vision, Roman found his brothers standing in front of the hole in the
ground he and Cynthia would occupy for the next thirty days.

“You get everything sorted?” Viktor asked.

Before he could answer, Sal, the youngest among them, laughed out
loud. “Can’t you tell from that smile. If he were any happier, we would have to
make the hole bigger.”

“And that is just not happening,” Bain, the usually silent King
who was near seven-feet tall and insisted on shaving his head added as he
jumped out of the eight-by-eight-by eight crater. “This was a rush job and I am
tired.” He threw his shovel in the back of Tommy’s—also known as Tommas several
millennia ago—pick-up truck before wiping his hands and asking, “How do we give
her our blessings if she is unconscious.”

“We give it after she awakens,” Viktor answered, then to Roman,
“You are not the only one Apollo chose to visit this evening.”

Laughing, he shook his Commander’s hand and chuckled, “Thank the
gods and thank you all.” He looked at the faces of all the other Kings, letting
them see the truth of his gratitude in his eyes. “Now, I will bid you farewell.
Ask that you keep watch and not drink all the good scotch.” He glared at Lee,
Tommy, and Sal then said to Nik, “Please watch these guys.”

“You got it, Roman,” Nikos readily agreed.

“And that is called letting the fox mind the henhouse,” Lee
snickered, causing the entire group to roar with laughter.

“Enough,” Viktor ordered, smiling while taking control. “Let us
leave Roman and his 
fýlakas ti kardiás mou
 to mate in peace.”

“Thank you again,” Roman said as he walked to Cynthia, picked her
up off the stone bench, and approached the pit they would rest in for the next
thirty days and nights.

Jumping into the hole, he smiled as he saw his brothers had
covered the soil with the soft red comforter from his bed and had also left
another blanket to keep the dirt from his mate. Placing Cynthia on the
bedspread, Roman laid down beside her and placed a chaste kiss upon her
lifeless lips with the assurance that because of their mind-to-mind connection,
the keeper of his heart knew what he was doing and why.

Placing butterfly kisses across her jaw and down her neck, he paid
special attention to her jugular with its sluggish beat. Whispering, “
Se
agapó, símera kai gia pánta
,” he let his canines extend and gently pierce
the tender skin of the woman he loved more than life itself.

Cynthia’s life essence, warm and rich, fulfilled him as nothing
ever had. Every cell in his body came alive. He now carried a part of his mate
within him…forever. All too soon, Cynthia drew her last breath and her heart
ceased to beat. The shock of feeling the one he loved dead in his arms caused
the King to bellow in agony as tears rolled down his face.

While his screams still filled the air, lightning streaked the sky
and the voice of Zeus burst into his mind. “Worry not, Romanus, I am with
your 
fýlakas tis kardiás mou
 and we are enjoying the summer
air of her youth. The next new moon will rise again soon enough and you will be
reunited with the one you love. Rest now, mighty warrior, and know…it is not
about possessing the one you love, but allowing her to grow her own wings and
rejoicing when she decided to fly beside you and not away from you.”

“As you command, so will I obey, beloved Zeus,” Roman responded as
he gently lay Cynthia in the cradle of his arms and pulled the cover over them.

Speaking the words that had Cynthia been awake they would have
spoken together, the words designed by the King of the Gods to bind them
together for all eternity, he felt the bond he shared with her grow stronger
with every word. “On this day I give my life to Cynthia St, James, 
fýlakas
tis kardiás mou
. I pledge my love, body, and soul to the one Destiny has
created for me. Together, we will uphold the law of the Father of the Gods. I
will be faithful and true to the one whose heart I hold dear and forsake all
others for her. It is with all that I am, all that I will be, and all that we
are together that I commit myself to you, 
agapiméne mou
.”

 Lulled to sleep by rolling thunder of the King of the Gods,
Roman smiled as Zeus filled the space above them with the earth his comrades
had earlier removed from their resting place. Speaking directly into Cynthia’s
mind, he whispered, “
Apópse eínai i próti nýchta tis mas gia pánta. Se agapó
fýlakas tis kardiás mou.”

Chapter Twelve

Cold chills ran down her spine as she watched Roman simply
disappear into the mist. It was the weirdest, craziest, and most frightening
thing she’d ever seen. It didn’t matter that she could hear his thoughts, feel
him as if he hadn’t left, and knew beyond all doubt she would see him again—it
was still terrifying as all get out.

Trying to focus, she walked to the barn, climbed the rickety
wooden steps, and smiled to see that in the dream world, her little ‘clubhouse’
was still intact. Sitting in her favorite spot, Cyn pulled her legs onto the
bale of hay and sat in what her first grade teacher used to call the
crisscross-applesauce position. Looking out over her grandpa’s farm, or at
least her memories of it, she thought about another of the old man’s sayings –
Don’t blink, you might miss something good. Things around here turn on a dime.

“No truer words were ever spoken, Pop-Pop,” she mumbled to
herself.

“Who are you speaking to child?”

Squeaking with surprise, Cyn jumped to her feet and screamed, “Who
the hell are you? What the hell are you doing here?”

Looking around for something to use as weapon, she almost missed
the stranger’s bold reply. “Why I am Zeus, King of the Gods and creator of the
Kings of the Blood, Cynthia St. James, and you will do well to watch your tone
when you speak to me.”

Putting her hands on her hips, she stood and stared at the tall,
muscular, older man with long white hair and an incredible air of superiority
then asked, “Why are you dressed like a golfer? I mean, I met your son, Apollo,
a little while back and he was wearing a toga. What’s with the polo shirt and
plaid shorts?”

Looking down then back up at her, the man claiming to be Zeus
shrugged and in the blink of an eye, changed from his tacky tourist outfit into
a long, flowing white toga with a crown of golden leaves on his head and a
lightning bolt in his hand. Raising one eyebrow, he asked, “Better?” His voice
was now low and rumbling, making the hair stand up on her arms and goose bumps
run up and down her spine.

Suddenly realizing she truly was speaking to the one and only Zeus
and remembering everything she’d ever read about him said he wasn’t the most
patient 
or
 understanding god, Cyn immediately curtsied like
she’d been taught in etiquette class and said, “I apologize for my disrespect,
Mighty Zeus. I was…well, shocked.”

A nod was the only recognition her apology received as Zeus looked
around before matter-of-factly stating, “Cynthia, 
fýlakas tis kardiás
mou
 of Romanus, I know you are well insulated in this dream world of
my making and have no idea that your human life has already come to an end and
that you have been wandering here in your own memories for near on thirty
days.”

Thirty days? Not possible…

A shiver shot down her spine. Her knees were weak from the shock
of the news of her death. Wrapping her arms around herself for comfort, she
listened as the King of the Gods continued. “I have come to ease your
transition into immortality as your path has not been ordinary or easy, but
there will always be obstacles for those bound for greatness as you have
experienced firsthand. It is important for you to know that you were created by
my own hands to stand beside one of my fiercest warriors. You are bound for a
life few can only dream of. For you see, no man can battle all the evils of the
world alone. He needs more than his sword, more than his army, more than the
depth of his conviction…he needs a mate. The one person in all the world who
sees him for what he is and the tasks he has to accomplish and accepts him,
unconditionally. A woman who can love without boundary and trust her instincts
to protect what is hers.”

“You see, Cynthia, the Kings of the Blood were born out of more
than necessity, more than the world’s need for heroes. They live and breathe by
my hand because without them, evil worse than your wildest nightmares would be
free to run rampant and destroy my beautiful earth. And a warrior such as your
Romanus, who has been tasked with winning this great war, needs a balance for
the horrors he has and will face. This evil has the ability to rob him of his
humanity and his soul.”

“You are the one person who can restore that humanity with a
single glance or the touch of your lips to his. The one person who anchors his soul
to this world with her light. You, Cynthia, guide him out of the darkness and
home after every hard-fought battle. Your love is the balm that nurses him back
to health even when the wounds are unseen. Romanus will forsake all others for
you and protect you with the last drop of his life’s essence. You must be
willing to do the same without thought or hesitation.” He looked over her head
before asking, “Do you know how your mate lost his human life?”

Only able to shake her head, still trying to digest that she was
not only speaking to the King of the Gods but that she was dead and would
somehow be revived or reborn or whatever the correct term was, Cyn sat on the
edge of her seat listening to every syllable of what Zeus had to say.

“Your 
vasiliás
 was the most revered and decorated
General in the Grecian army. He served under Viktoras until the Supreme
Commander’s passage into eternal life, at which time Romanus took his rightful
place in charge of strategy for their troops. But as with all things, his enemies
lie within those he called friend and the General was betrayed while on the
battlefield by the bastard son of his father.”

“His half-brother?” she whispered, her heart breaking for what the
man she loved had endured.

“Yes, but that is not all,” Zeus voice was low and shook the
warped wood of the loft as she could feel his anger growing. “Xenophanes left
our Romanus for the Keres who haunt the battlefields looking to drink the blood
and rip the souls from the dead and dying before sending them on their way to
Hades. However, a man such as the General with insurmountable strength and
valor woven into the very fabric of his being, refused to give up and the death
spirits could only circle, waiting for the inevitable. Time passed and still he
refused to succumb to a dishonorable death before his time, so I benevolently
granted Viktoras’ request to ordain Romanus into the order of the Kings of the
Blood.”

Cynthia could only stare as Zeus paused and seemed to be listening
to voices she couldn’t hear.  A healthy dose of fear and respect kept her
from interrupting his silence as she thought about what she had learned. What
Roman had been through was incomprehensible and absolutely horrific. She had no
idea how he survived all these years, fighting for the gods who most people
thought where little more than stories in long forgotten books told to
glamorize ancient history. When the King of the Gods looked at her again,
Cynthia felt the power of his gaze; knew what he was about to say was somehow
more important than anything else he’d said so far.

“Your title, 
fýlakas ti kardiás mou 
which means
keeper of my heart in your language, is not simply a way to set you apart from
others. It speaks to your true mission, your purpose in the grand scheme of a
chaotic world. For without you, the darkness Romanus has vowed to defeat would
devour him. It is too plentiful. It feeds upon the human soul, making its
destruction an almost daily battle. Should darkness take his soul, I would then
be forced to dispatch his brothers, the fraternity of the Kings of the Blood,
to hunt him down, destroy him, and dispatch whatever was left of his tarnished
psyche to the lowest level of hell. That is not something I will see happen. It
is well known that the heart governs the soul and as such, you hold his heart
in your very hands. You keep his intentions pure. You make him whole.”

“Heart to heart, soul to soul, you and your King shall live out
your days the perfect pair. The Fates smile upon your union. Clotho has spun
the thread of your life with Romanus’ since he emerged from the grave, reborn
and renewed. It is so long and so strong it will last forever and never know
the cut of Atropos’ shears. Your names were removed from the lots Lachesis
draws and Athena herself has blessed your love. Know that Destiny is on your
side. Now go, my child, and begin immortality with your King.”

Once again, Cyn watched someone disappear before her eyes as Zeus
vanished, but this time she was prepared. It was creepy but not scary.
Something she guessed maybe she’d have to get used to if she really did wake
up. Turning to look out over the farm, she suddenly felt warm arms wrap around
her and the scent of the sea she always associated with Roman filled her
senses. Closing her eyes, she could see his face, feel the pull of his
whiskey-colored eyes, and was filled with the love he felt for her.

The sensation of rolling over, coupled with the soft, tender touch
of lips upon her neck, made Cyn reach for her vision of Roman. When her hands
touched the actual, real, live, warm flesh of the man her heart belonged to,
her eyes flew open and she was immediately captured by Roman’s hypnotic gaze.

“Well, hello there.” Her attempt at wit was less than successful
when her normally robust contralto squeaked out, sounding more like a teenage
boy on the cusp of puberty than the woman who wanted to start her new life with
the man of her dreams.

Smiling slyly, uncaring of her weak vocal chords or being valiant
enough not to laugh, Roman murmured, “Hello 
agápi mou
,” as he
returned to slowly and thoroughly tasting and teasing her incredibly sensitive
skin.

A hunger unlike any other shot like fire through her entire body.
Although the mere thought of blood had always repulsed her, she now craved it
more than she craved her next breath. She could hear the beat of Roman’s heart.
The sound of his blood as it pulsed through his veins called to her like a
siren’s song while her gums suddenly burned and her mouth felt too small to
contain her teeth.

Roman’s hand on the back of her head directed her lips to his neck
where, at the touch of her flesh to his, the need to not only devour but be one
with the man holding her so tenderly in his arm overwhelmed her. Resisting the
need to bite into his neck, Cyn fought against the hold he had on her head, but
her mate would not be deterred.

His body vibrated against hers as her grumbled, “Do not resist.
Your body knows what to do. Take of me what you need. I am yours, now and
forever.”

Cyn needed no further coercion. Opening her mouth, she felt her
canines grow, and with a knowledge she knew came from Roman, she pushed the
tips of her newly acquired fangs in the tender flesh covering his jugular.

His blood filled her with an exquisite rush of adrenaline and
need. Her hunger for Roman’s life essence quickly became entangled with her
burning desire for his love as she continued to pull the life-affirming liquid
from his vein.

Her hands pulled at his clothing. His hands tore at hers. The rip
of fabric joined their beating hearts as Roman rolled to his back and sat up in
one fluid motion with Cyn ending up straddling his lap, the proof of his desire
throbbing against her already wet and ready center.

Growling as she pulled her fangs from his neck, she reached
between their bodies and ripped the boxers from his body, throwing them over
her shoulder, her need to be one with her King forcing her every action.
Gasping as he entered her in one swift motion only stopping when the tip of his
erection touched the mouth of her womb, the couple sighed as the contractions of
her arousal massaged his throbbing erection.

Needing to move, needing to feel Roman move inside her, Cyn rolled
her hips as she slammed her lips to his. Immediately open to one another, their
tongues tasted and taunted, pushing the couple’s desire higher and higher.

Pulling his mouth from hers, Roman grabbed her hips, lifting her
higher and higher off his lap then slamming back into her as he brought her
back down. Lost to their passion, her mate roared, “
Se agapó
,
Cynthia, 
i kardí mou
, 
me óla aftá pou eímal
.”

“And I love you,” came her answering wail as higher and higher she
flew, tighter and tighter she gripped Roman within in her body, and more and
more she felt the sweet release of orgasm careening towards them.

Grabbing his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin, Cyn met
her King stroke for stroke. She felt his blood pool where she tore at his skin,
felt how her loss of control at his hands excited him, and with an instinct she
knew came from her conversion just as her sudden understanding of Greek had,
Cyn let her head fall to the side and commanded, “Drink, my love, take all that
you need.”

Faster than she could track, Roman’s mouth was at her neck. His
fangs buried in her vein mimicked the movement of his erection, pulling her
life’s blood into his body, making them one as no other had ever been.

Feeling her need growing, her release just out of touch, Roman
leaned back and shifted his hips, his hands tightening on her waist. The change
in position was indescribable. On every forward thrust the tip of his erection
teased the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center at the same time his pelvis
pushed hard against the tenderness of her swollen nub.

Releasing the hold his lengthened canines had on her neck, Roman
slammed his mouth to hers. The taste of her blood on his lips, the coppery tang
of her life’s essence upon his tongue, drove Cyn over the edge. Gasping as she
pushed at his chest, she screamed her release while he roared his. They moved
in unison. Her body contracted and massaged as he continued to move in and out
of her, wringing every last drop of her climax from her.