The Nymph King (15 page)

H
IS OWN WOMAN
wanted him to stay away from her so badly that she'd held a weapon on him, Valerian thought as he stormed into the dining hall. “My own mate,” he grumbled. “Refusing to pleasure me. Refusing to let me pleasure her.”

Sadly, he knew not what to do about the situation.

Except, perhaps, drink himself into oblivion.

He halted abruptly when he spied Shivawn at the table, a different flask in each hand. The man already had red, glassy eyes and was wobbling in his chair.

Shivawn was young, nearing one hundred years of age. A babe, really, compared to Valerian's six hundred. Shivawn was a strong warrior, though, and swift on his feet. He did not hesitate to render a death blow to his foes. In fact, if an enemy needed torturing, Shivawn would volunteer for the job.

Good man, that.

However, Shivawn was impulsive, led by his emotions. Perhaps he was that way because his father had been staid, a rule follower in the extreme. Never deviating. Like Valerian's own father. Neither of them wanted to end up like their sires. Both men had died battling demons. Demons who had claimed to be allies,
only to change their minds during a peace talk and slaughter every nymph present.

Such was the way with demons. Valerian, of course, had gathered the men, babe that he'd been, and attacked their camp the very next day. Much blood had spilled during the ensuing battle. Demon blood. It had been his first victory—the first of many.

Where was his victory now? He could defeat an army of demons, but not one small wisp of a woman.

“Women,” Shivawn groused.

“Women,” Valerian agreed. He plopped beside the warrior and grabbed one of the flasks. Only half of the liquid remained. He drained the contents in one gulp. Unfortunately, he found no comfort in the river burning to his stomach.

“My bedmate doesn't want me,” Shivawn said bitterly. “How is that possible? I am a nymph.”

“As am I. I am king. I rule this place. My word is law.”

“Maybe—maybe Brenna only likes other women.”

“Ha! Her sexual preference doesn't matter. All women like nymphs. They adore us.”

Shivawn's shoulders slumped. “I do not understand her. She actually fears me. Fears
me,
as if I am a monster who wants only to hurt her. I have never hurt a woman, Valerian. Never. All women worship me. Desire me.” He sighed heavily.

“Why are you complaining? Your woman did not hold you at sword's length.” Valerian confiscated the other flask and drained it. “Besides, Brenna is not your mate. Why do you not find another lover?” Oh, that he could take his own advice. He should find another since Shaye did not want him.

No, that wasn't true. She wanted him. He'd seen the desire in her eyes, heard it in her voice, watched the way her nipples beaded. She just didn't
want
to want him, and so fought him every step of the way.

Their kiss, though…

She'd erupted, come alive. A living spark. She hadn't hidden her desire then. She'd reveled in it. Her body had burned for his, desperate for him to quench the seemingly unstoppable need.

Why do you not find another?
drifted again through his mind. His hands clenched around the empty flasks, and he slammed them onto the tabletop. He didn't want another woman. Couldn't abide the thought of having another in his bed, actually. His arms craved Shaye. His legs craved Shaye. His
cock
craved Shaye. She exuded a special scent, and every part of him recognized other women as imitations. Imposters.

Shaye had wrapped him in a terrible and wonderful and hated and loved…lust. Consuming lust. How could he win her? She'd said she craved her home and her job. Well, he could not give her the first, but he could give her the second. Anti-cards, she'd said. She liked to write, she'd said. First thing in the morning he would deliver canvas and writing stones.

Would that melt her resistance?

He could only hope.

Aside from winning her affections, he wanted to know everything about her. Her past, her present, her future. What had made her the woman that she was? While he wanted to ram her defenses into the ground, just plow right through them, he suspected she would need gentle wooing. He sighed.

“…can't find them,” Shivawn said.

“I am sorry. I was thinking of Shaye. What did you say?”

Frowning, Shivawn plucked a crumb from the table and tossed it aside. “The only women without lovers are the three surface women who came here first. I cannot find them. And believe me, I have searched.”

“They are around here somewhere.” He rubbed his jaw. “They will show up sometime, I am sure. You can claim one and give your black-haired wench to another warrior.”

“Women,” Shivawn said again. He stood, stalked to the kitchens and returned with an armful of bejeweled flasks.

“Women,” Valerian agreed. He quickly drained two of them, the contents no longer burning. “I have told Shaye how much pleasure I can give her, but she does not listen.”

“Perhaps she needs to hear a few testimonials from your former lovers.”

He blinked. In his current state, that didn't seem like such a bad idea. She could assume his profession was nothing more than pride, but she would have to believe the women who'd actually experienced the bliss of his touch. Wouldn't she? Nothing else had convinced her.

“I do not think Brenna would care about testimonials.” Shivawn's voice was a little slurred. “I think she would still fear me. Women,” he growled. “We don't need them.”

“Don't need them,” Valerian parroted, raising yet another flask. But the declaration tasted foul in his mouth. His survival depended on Shaye, so yes, he needed her.

“I'm becoming weak as a babe,” Shivawn admitted.
“Earlier, I tripped and fell in the hall like a clumsy dragon hatchling.”

“The gods surely cursed us when they bound us to sex.”

“Before coming here I would have said they blessed us. I would have said we were obviously their favored.”

Neither of them had that illusion at the moment.

“Much longer,” Shivawn added, “and not even self-pleasuring will help me.”

“Don't our women know we have needs?”

For a long while, neither man spoke. Shivawn finally said, “I don't think I ever want to find my mate. Perhaps I will wander all of Atlantis, servicing every woman I encounter.”

“The danger in that, my friend, is that many women will become enslaved to you. And since there will be no other nymphs with you, you will have to see to their needs.
All
of their needs, on your own. They will become resentful of the time you spend with the others—and if they left behind a spurned lover, that lover will hunt you down for vengeance.”

Shivawn glared at him. “Thank you for destroying my dream,” he said dryly.

“You are welcome.”

“Theophilus's human mate isn't giving him problems. Why is that, do you think? What is he doing that we are not?”

Valerian linked his fingers behind his neck and leaned back, casting his eyes to the ceiling. He blinked in surprise. Two mermaids had their breasts, hands and faces pressed to the crystal, gazing down at him and Shivawn.

When they realized he'd spotted them, they smiled prettily and waved. He returned the greeting, but he
was groaning inside. He pinched the bridge of his nose—a gesture he'd caught Shaye making a few times. These girls wanted him, would have welcomed him eagerly if he but asked (and even if he didn't). Why wouldn't Shaye?

Shivawn slapped his arm to gain his attention. “Do you not have an answer?”

“I have forgotten your question,” he said, looking away from the mermaids. “Sorry.”

“You are distracted.” A statement, not a question.

“Yes.”

“I wish to know why Theophilus's human mate gives him no trouble.”

Valerian, too, would have liked to know the answer to that. He pictured the woman in question. She was a timid little bird. Plain, yet possessing a deliciously plump body made for a man's hands. She had put up no fight whatsoever. Had simply taken one look at Theophilus and offered herself to him.

Next he pictured Shaye, who wanted the world to think of her as arctic and untouchable. Who would not speak of her family. Whose loveliness blinded him to all others. “Perhaps our women have secrets—sad, painful secrets. Secrets that allow them to hold themselves away from us and remain unaffected.”

He knew Shaye had secrets.

Unlocking them was becoming an obsession. A necessity. Like breathing. Like sex. If she again refused to tell him, well, he might be reduced to plying her with drink. One way or another, he
would
learn the truth about her.

She would tell him every detail of her life. And in
the telling, perhaps he would find the key to softening her and winning her heart.

Shivawn jerked a hand through his dark hair, and the beads clanged together. “I will try and divine Brenna's secrets, and see if she will have me afterward,” he said, parroting Valerian's thoughts. He paused. “This…working to win a woman. It is not fun.”

“No.”

“I have learned I do not like challenges.”

“As have I.”

“Women,” Shivawn grumbled.

“Women,” Valerian agreed.

They clinked their flasks together and drank deeply.

 

S
HAYE LAY ON THE BED
, wondering where Valerian was, what he was doing.
Who
he was doing.

Was he with another woman?

He'd been aroused when he left her. Painfully, utterly aroused. He professed to want no woman but her, but men often changed their minds. Especially when they were aroused and one woman told them no.

She wadded the silk sheets in her hands. She was mad at herself. Since Valerian had stormed out, she hadn't tried to escape. No, she'd bathed. She'd thought of Valerian. She'd tried on the pretty gowns in the closet. She'd thought of Valerian. She'd lain down for a nap.

She'd wanted Valerian.

She'd…missed him.

She dreamed of him when she closed her eyes and desired him when she opened them. There was no escaping the man's appeal.

The day had passed. Night had come and gone, and
morning had once more appeared. Neither offered her any relief. Today, she decided, she was going home. There could be no more lingering. No more distractions. She'd come too close, too damn close, to giving in and stripping for him. To allowing Valerian to take her—body and soul.

He was too dangerous. Too potent.

“Come.”

Shaye nearly jumped out of her skin, startled as she was by
his
voice. Slowly she sat up, dreading—anticipating—what she'd see. Her heart leapt inside her chest the moment she spied him. He stood in the doorway, holding the curtain out of the way. He was total masculinity, pure sex. He wore black pants, a black shirt that tied at the collar, and his hair was in complete disarray.

“Come,” he repeated. There was no hint of emotion in his tone. His eyes were taut, his mouth thinned in…displeasure? Pain? He held out his hand and motioned for her with his fingers.

“Why?” Remaining in place, hesitant, she fingered the ends of her still-damp hair. “Where are you taking me?”

He again motioned with his fingers. “I am not going to pounce on you, if that is what you fear.” How distant he was, so unlike his usual self.

Had he already given up on her? Did he now plan to take her back to the surface? Disappointment rocked her.
You should be thrilled, you big dummy!

She gulped, but stood and walked to him. She clasped his proffered hand. He immediately turned and tugged her through the hallway. “What's going on?” she asked.

“I must practice with my men. To ensure you do not
cause mischief while I am preoccupied, you will stay in a room with the other women.”

“Oh.” He wasn't taking her back, and she was mad about that—really she was.

A few minutes later they reached the room in question. She didn't utter a single protest, even though she did not want to spend time with the lovesick, sex-crazed females from her mother's wedding.
Well, you can always use the time away from Valerian to escape. Like you freaking planned.

Yes, that's exactly what she'd do. No more mooning over Valerian. No more crazy thoughts about staying.

Several men stood guard at the entrance. One held a bundle of paper and thin, colored rocks. Valerian scooped them up and handed them to her. “I thought you might enjoy writing some of your anti-cards.”

A moment passed before his words registered, and her mouth fell open. With shaky hands, she clasped the bundle. How…sweet. He'd gathered these for her. Her stomach tightened with several different emotions—emotions she didn't want to name. He hadn't gone the easy route and given her flowers and candy. No, he'd searched for something she loved, something specific to her.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“My pleasure,” he said, his voice rough. He pivoted to the men, saying, “I want two guards—no,
four
guards posted at this door at all times. No one is to enter or leave without my permission. Understood?”

Each of the warriors nodded.

Valerian turned back to her. “I must go.”

Their eyes met, and she fought the urge to rise on
tiptoe and breathe in his scent, absorb his strength.
Kiss me,
she silently beseeched, hating herself for the desire but unable to stop it. In the end he didn't. He held back the curtain and gave her a gentle push inside the room.

“Until later,” she heard him whisper. And then he was gone.

“I'
VE NEVER
,
IN ALL MY LIFE
,
been pleasured like I was last night.”

“Me, either.”

“God, me, either.”

Shaye gazed around the room. There was a couch, a thousand silk pillows, books that looked as if they were made from canvas rather than paper, needles and thread. A hobby room, she thought. Great. Women were everywhere, a sea of twitters and laughter. She'd never seen a better example of a harem.

Shaye's gaze strayed to the curtain-covered door, and she bit her lip.
Now is the time.
“Ladies,” she said quietly. She clapped her hands until she'd gained everyone's attention. “It's time to think about getting out of here. There are enough of us to overtake the guards. We can look for a way home.”

Someone laughed. “Why in the world would we want to do that?”

“I'm not leaving,” someone else said.

“I'm staying.”

“If you try to run, I'll scream for Valerian.”

Shaye gritted her teeth in frustration and in irritation. “Why do you want to stay?” She said the words
for herself, as well. “You mean nothing to these guys.”

For over an hour the ladies lauded the sexual ecstasy they'd been given. For over an hour she countered with speeches of home and respect. Several women finally got tired of listening to her, and called for the guards. Much to her chagrin, Valerian was summoned.

It didn't take long for the king to respond. He strode into the room without preamble. He was sweaty and dirty. He didn't say anything, just pounded to her, wrapped her in his arms, and proceeded to kiss the breath right out of her.

The kiss lasted only a few moments, just enough to remind her of his taste and drive her crazy as it consumed all of her senses. When he pulled away, he was panting. Women were closing in on him, reaching for him…touching him.

Shaye scowled at them.

“Be good,” he said, “and I will take you into the Outer City when I finish training.” With that he left.

Oh, unfair, she thought, to issue such a promise.

Disappointed sighs filled the room. Trying to slow her erratic heartbeat and cool her heated skin, Shaye found an open corner and plopped onto a pillow. She couldn't help it; she really wanted to see the Outer City in person. The single glance she'd had wasn't nearly enough. From the moment she'd first spied it, she'd wanted to breathe its air and absorb its ambiance.

She would escape tomorrow.

I'm not relieved about this. I'm not happy to spend more time with Valerian.
To distract herself, she used her new supplies to make anti-cards. Making the cards
had always been a big stress reliever for her, and if she'd ever needed to de-stress, it was now. She already had a few good ones in mind.

“As the days go by, I'm so happy you're not here to ruin them for me.”

“You want a piece of me? Oops, sorry. I already gave one to your brother.”

A third card popped into her head, and it was so unlike the others that she blinked in surprise. “Some men aren't so bad. I guess.”

Before she could ponder it, someone said, “I'm so jealous that you were chosen by Valerian, the hulking blond beefcake.” In that moment all eyes focused on Shaye. “Was he as good as he looks?”

“He even fought over you.” Another sighed dreamily. “How romantic is that? I'm Jaclyn, by the way.”

“I'm Shelly,” said an elegant, almost regal blonde. “I belong to Aeson.”

“I'm Barrie,” said a plain, soft-spoken brunette.

“Rissa,” said the redhead who'd wanted to fight her for getting too close to Broderick. Now she appeared jovial, even affectionate.

On and on they introduced themselves. Though they'd been wedding guests and friends of her mother's—or maybe the new husband's—Shaye hadn't really met them until now. “Aren't we the luckiest girls in the world?” Jaclyn said.

Several squeals of delighted agreement erupted.

“Well, was Valerian good?” Barrie asked eagerly. “If he walks like a wet dream and talks like a wet dream…I bet the king fucks like an animal.”

Shaye bet he did, too.

And she didn't like this woman wondering about Valerian, perhaps picturing him naked. A sense of possessiveness rose up inside her, hot and angry. It was a nail-baring, teeth-snarling possessiveness that surprised her with its undeniable force.

You don't want him, remember? You held him off with a sword. You had your chance with him and didn't take it, so let him go.
She should be happy someone else wanted him. She should encourage Barrie to find out for herself if Valerian did indeed fuck like an animal.

She didn't, though.

She couldn't.

Something inside her, a greediness she hadn't known she possessed, said,
Mine. Only mine.
She hated the feeling, but there it was. It refused to leave.

Barrie and the others soon got tired of awaiting her answer. Actually they forgot about Shaye entirely, and resumed their conversation about their lovers as if it had never been interrupted.

Shaye stretched her legs and propped her feet on top of a pillow. Frustration—for so many different reasons—ate at her. Sexual frustration? Yes. Confusion? Definitely. Sighing, she gripped her notebook and stones to her chest. She didn't want to become one of these lovesick women. Didn't want to lose herself in a man.

And that's what would happen if she gave in to Valerian. Foolishly, that seemed to matter less and less.

A short while later, different warriors began to straggle into the room, collecting their women. They were covered in sweat and sand, even blood. Each time the curtain lifted, she found herself tensing with dread and anticipation. Would it be Valerian?

It never was.

Soon there were only a few females remaining. One was the girl with curly black hair and sad brown eyes, the one who had struggled on the beach and, like Shaye, hadn't wanted to be chosen by a warrior. Shaye watched her for a moment, then gathered her supplies, stood and walked to her.

Normally Shaye didn't approach strangers and strike up conversations. That totally negated her “remain detached” preference. But there was something vulnerable about this girl. Something almost…haunting. She found herself drawn to her, found herself sympathizing with her obvious unhappiness.

“Hi. I'm, uh, Shaye.” God, she felt awkward. Without an invite, she sat.

The girl flicked her a nervous glance. “Brenna,” she said. Her voice was deep, rough, halting and strained. A smoker?

“I've noticed that you're the only other person who isn't ecstatic to be here. Were you…did the one who picked you…”

Brenna shook her head.

“Good.” Shaye sighed with relief. Just in front of her, there was a table piled with food. She leaned over, swiped a handful of bread squares, then handed a few to Brenna. They ate in silence for a bit. “I, uh, also noticed you said you were a healer and that you were put in charge of Joachim's care.”

A nod—this one hesitant.

“How's he doing? Will he live?”

Another nod—this one sure. And, Shaye saw, there was a gleam of something…hot in the girl's brown
eyes. Oh, oh, oh. What was this? Did Brenna have a crush on her patient? “You like him?” she asked.

Brenna shook her head violently. Protesting too much, in Shaye's estimation. She knew all about that. “Scared,” the girl said.

Scared. Yeah, Shaye had experienced her fair share of that emotion. In the beginning, her fear had been of the unknown and of whether or not Valerian meant to hurt her. Now, well, her fear was for an entirely different reason. If she desired Valerian so intensely now, what would happen if she actually knew what it was like to make love with him?

Don't you dare find out, either. Keep fighting the attraction.
“I wonder why all the women are slaves to their hormones and we aren't,” she mused aloud.

“Smart,” Brenna said, and they both laughed.

But Shaye's humor quickly faded. “I don't feel smart.”

“Me, either.” Brenna sighed dejectedly, her humor gone, too.

Shaye opened her mouth to ask why, but her gaze snagged on the two men who suddenly entered the room. Shivawn and Valerian. Valerian stopped and stood utterly still, watching her. A shiver of awareness swept through her.

Unbidden, she eased to her feet. Her grip tightened on the notebook, but she never removed her eyes from him. He was the most beautiful sight she'd ever beheld, and all she could think about just then was his mouth on hers.

“Come,” he said, just as he had earlier that morning.

She did. Without protest. Brenna and everything else forgotten.
Mine,
her mind whispered, all of her posses
sive instincts resurfacing. He led her through the hallway, and her heart gave a nervous flutter. He looked determined. Hardened.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“The Outer City, just as I promised.”

 

V
ALERIAN ESCORTED
S
HAYE
out of the palace and into the afternoon heat. The crystal dome glowed brightly, and birds whistled playfully. They hadn't left yet, but already he had a fierce need to return. So when he reached the stables, he quickly commanded one of the centaurs to prepare for travel. The dark horse-man leapt into action, trotting over to him.

“It will be my pleasure to take you into the city, great one.”

Shaye gaped up at him. “Uh, that horse is half
man,
” she said, “and you expect me to
ride
him?”

“Yes.”

She gulped. Valerian mounted and held out his hand. Tentative, she placed her palm over his. He lifted her up behind him, loving the feel of her pressed so close to him. Much as he loved it, though, it increased his need to hurry this trip along.
You want her to fall in love with the city, remember?

“Was practice rough?” she asked after the centaur began descending the cliffs. She sounded nervous.

Valerian didn't answer. He'd worked his men and himself until sweat had poured from them. Until exhaustion had set in. He'd needed an outlet for his frustration, but it hadn't worked.

There was only one thing that would work.

Shaye, in his bed. Shaye, joined with him.

He'd never been more determined to win her. “I'm sorry, but we can't stay long.”

“I don't care. I'm just happy to visit.”

Happy. Just the way he wanted her.

They reached the Outer City in minutes. As usual, there were no females present. Having sensed his arrival, they'd hidden away. Only males—centaurs, minotaurs and formorions—manned the tables and booths, selling their wares, from food to jewelry to clothing.

While they were there, Valerian saw to Shaye's every need. Whenever she wanted to look, he took her. When she was thirsty, he bought her a drink. When she was hungry, he purchased her a snack. Delicious meat pies that seduced the taste buds. As time ticked by, he forgot about his need to return and simply enjoyed her.

At first she was wary of him and treated him coolly, distantly. But as a troupe of siren males passed them on the cobbled street, singing of love and passion, she began to warm, as if she just couldn't help herself. She watched with delight. Griffins charged by them, chasing their tails, and she skipped after them. He'd never seen her so relaxed; he'd never seen her so happy.

Looking at her, light glowing around her like a halo, love swelled inside his chest.
This
was the real Shaye. He knew it, sensed it, and he would bring her here every day if needed. Next time he would even take her to the waterfalls and watch her splash in the pools.

“Is anyone selling oranges, do you think?” she asked him wistfully, slowing to a walk.

“We shall see.” But the few stands that sold the fruit were out. Shaye couldn't hide her disappointment, and Valerian vowed to search all of Atlantis if necessary. His
mate would have her oranges before the day ended. “Ready to return?”

She cast a wistful glance at her surroundings. “Yes. I can't believe how beautiful this place is,” she said as they found and mounted their centaur. “It's paradise.”

She
was paradise.

“Thank you for taking me.”

“My pleasure, love. My pleasure.”

She shivered against him.

His lips lifted in a slow smile—thankfully, it was a smile she could not see. Her defenses were down, just as he'd hoped, and her desire for him was making itself known. They reached the palace a few minutes later, and his blood heated. Almost time…

At the stable he dismounted and helped Shaye do the same. She no longer hesitated to touch him, he was pleased to notice. After thanking the centaur for the ride, he led Shaye to his room. Along the way, he sent a few of his men to search for oranges.

“I have a surprise for you,” he told Shaye.

“Good or bad?”

Before collecting her for their journey, he'd gone to his own chambers and filled them with food. He'd scented the pool with oil and removed some of the wall sconces for a dimmer atmosphere. He'd also circled a group of satin pillows around a low table nearly spilling over with fruits and desserts.

When she saw what he'd done, her eyes widened. “You're…this is…”

“Sit at the table,” he instructed.

For a minute she didn't obey. She glanced from him to the table, from the table to him. She gulped. He
expected her to say something in rebuke, but she surprised him by walking to the table and sitting.

He loved the way his shirt and pants draped her slim body, but all he could think about was getting under them.

He removed his armor, unbuckling the links at his shoulders and letting the gold pieces fall to the ground. He washed his face in the basin, splashing cool water over his skin. He should have bathed before collecting her and taking her into the city, but he'd been too eager to see her. And a part of him hoped to bathe
with
her.