Undying Destiny (21 page)

The sharp sting of fangs at her neck had her crying out his name as another orgasm shattered on the heels of the last. A deep groan vibrated against her throat, and the warmth of his ejaculation saturated her deep inside.

For a brief moment, the weight of his body covered hers before he slid from her and onto the bench. He pulled her over with him and onto his lap. His lips claimed hers before she could utter a sound, but she didn’t care. She could kiss him for the rest of her days and never tire of his taste. Her fingers mindlessly wandered up into his dark and wet waves. She loved his hair, loved the way the silky texture caressed her skin.

She moved to his jaw, lightly spreading her kisses along his shadow of a beard. “There’s something I want to tell you,” she breathlessly uttered. The words were busting to get out. She couldn’t go another night without letting him know how she felt.

He stared down at her expectantly. “What is it?”

“When I thought I was dying the other night, when that animal was at my throat…” His arms tensed. She brushed his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “There were many things I thought would have flashed in my mind at the moment of my death.” She threaded her fingers through his damp hair. “But the only thing I saw was you.” She turned to touch her lips to his. “I only saw you,” she repeated and lost herself in his kiss.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The smell of blood, sex, and death clung to the air. Kenric’s eyes were closed, but he didn’t have to see to know precisely where she’d placed him. He tugged his lids apart. The dark gray walls of his former slave cell met his retinas.

“Marguerite, this is getting old,” he said in his most bored tone.

The shackles holding Kenric imprisoned on the cot dropped from his wrists and ankles and clattered against the stone wall. He rolled to his feet and strode across the dirt floor. His fingers gripped the rusted iron of the bars that once had held him. A pair of cold palms slithered up his back. Fangs dropped into his mouth, and he unleashed a sharp hiss of warning.

“Unlike with Annice, you got lucky—this time, Kenric.”

“There won’t be a next time.” He roared and spun, driving Marguerite’s body into the opposite wall with his mind.

Her back crashed into the rock. A shower of loose dirt littered the floor and air around her.

“Tsk-tsk-tsk. My, aren’t we touchy about the female.” She emerged from the cloud of dust. “You must be fucking her.” Her green eyes darkened to a pitch black, and her hips swayed as she sauntered closer. “Bet she doesn’t make you come as hard as I do. Does she, darling?”

He curled his lips into a purposeful, lazy smile. “You have no idea,” he said, closing the distance between them, his chest a whisper from hers. Her eyes widened. “When I come for her, she leaves my lungs burning, starved for air, and I shout her name from my soul.” The tips of her fangs dropped into sight. “My cock may have come for you, but your name never left my lips.”

Her head reared back, red lips stretched in a hideous contortion of rage as a shriek tore from her throat.

She lunged.

Kenric pivoted, and Marguerite whirled, her long hair fanning around her like a black cape.

“What exactly do you want, Marguerite? You have Goran’s blood. What do you plan to do with it?”

“There are things you don’t know.” She shook her head. “You turn down my offering of a place at my side so quickly, like swatting a fly.” She batted her hand and stepped forward. “It’s more than power that I’ve come for.” Her green eyes shone in the darkness. “But you won’t give me the opportunity to show you what’s in store for our future. Trust me. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed with the outcome. Together, our union would make everything right.” Marguerite’s lashes lowered as if she savored the vision in her mind.

Trust her? Goran’s essence had infected her, taking her deep inside a version of reality that she alone understood. She was insane.

“And if you won’t come to me willingly…” Her expression morphed into a sneer. “I will make it happen.” She sprang into the air, aiming straight for him.

“I’m done, Marguerite.” He spread his arms wide. “Game over.”

His eyelids sprang open. The warmth and darkness of his bedroom enveloped him as an echo of an outraged scream rang in his mind.
Damn, that felt good
. Rolling onto his side, he pulled Emily’s soft body close, spooning her backside. He needed to make sure if Marguerite ever came close, Emily stood a fighting chance. That meant one thing: Emily needed to be his in every way. She had to become his mate. A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his cocked twitched. Damn, he liked that idea.

She mumbled in her sleep and squirmed in his arms. Holding her tighter, he smoothed her hair. Her murmurs grew in intensity, the beat of her heart a rapid pounding drum in her chest.

“Get off of me! No!” She broke into a sob and thrashed against his hold. “I said no! Stop, please.”

“Emily! Wake up, love. It’s me.” She rolled, facing him. He grabbed her forearms, blocking the fists going for his face and chest.

“Stop! I won’t let you do this,” she snarled through her fangs.

“Emily!” He gave her a shake, hard enough to get her attention but not enough to hurt. Her lashes lifted. For a few moments, wide hazel eyes gazed unseeingly into his before recognition took hold.

“Kenric,” she whispered. She threw herself into his arms, rocking him back. His heart ached with each shudder running through her. In silence, he held her. He had a feeling what she needed most were his arms, not his words.

After a while, her tremors stilled. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what happened.” She shrugged. “Bad dream, I guess.”

He lifted her chin, the lingering shadow of pain impossible to miss.

“It’s more than a bad dream, and we both know it. When are you going to let me in so that I can take that pain from you?”

A rush of moisture filled her eyes, but she blinked it away. She shifted from his hold and leaned against the headboard, her face a stoic shield.

“I haven’t asked you any more questions. I wanted to give you time to come to me, when you were ready. During your turning, you cried out about your father, and now this.” He slid next to her and caressed her cheek with his palm. “I know you’re hurting. Talk to me, love.”

She dragged her face from his touch and tucked her chin. “It’s embarrassing,” she mumbled. “I’m a grown woman, letting the scars from my childhood and the actions of another still affect me.”

“Emily…” With the palm of his hand, he cupped her chin. “Look at me.” She clutched his hand with her own and allowed him to bring her face to his. “I’m the epitome of that statement. I have allowed the past to define me for three centuries.”

She reached out, turned, and sank into his arms. Fine with him. No place in the world he’d rather be than wrapped around her.

A deep sigh released from her chest. “After my ninth birthday, not a day went by that my father wasn’t drunk, and when he was…anything would set him off.” He held her a little tighter. “Something as simple as not moving fast enough when he called or not cleaning my plate at dinner. I never knew what I would get. His fist, his belt…or his favorite punishment, the closet.” Chills lifted under his palms, and she shivered. Lightly, he brushed her arms, warming her and hoping to encourage her to let go of the horrible memories.

“I used to pray for the belt. At least it would have been over faster.” She grew quiet and still in his embrace. Then a soft voice whispered, “I hate the dark. My dad would lock me away when he said I was bad. Our coat closet didn’t have a light. I would lie there with my face as close as I could get to the narrow slit of light under the door.”

Both his hands curled into tight fists. Son of a bitch. His gut rebelled at the image of her, a sweet little girl, abused in such a way. A damn good thing her father was already dead. Daddy wouldn’t have wanted to experience the punishment
he
had in mind for him.

He placed a kiss to the top of her head. She cleared her throat and rubbed the back of his fist. “I never knew when he’d get around to coming back. Sometimes he would pass out, forgetting I was in there. Mom was too scared of what he’d do to her if she let me out before he gave permission. She let him control her every move and virtually her every breath.” Her voice grew bolder. “I promised myself I’d
never
allow any man to treat me or my chil…” She stilled, the rest of her words left hanging in midair. “I’m never going to have children, am I?” The sad plea in her voice wrapped around his heart and squeezed.

Kenric closed his eyes and breathed deep. Would she hate him now? “No, Wildflower,” he whispered. “Just like we talked about, as far as I know, male or female, the result is the same: sterility.”

Her curls brushed his chest as she nodded. “Well, I won’t lie and say it’s not disappointing. But sometimes you may not see why you’re led down a certain path in life. You just have to hold on in the dark and have a little faith that you’ll end up exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

“You’re amazing.” He gave her a light squeeze. “You know that? Amazing.”

She laughed. “Well, you may think so now, but you haven’t heard the rest of the brilliant decisions I’ve made in my past.”

“Like what?”

“Like the time I went and got myself engaged to someone even worse than dear old dad. I’d promised myself not to let myself be treated like my father had done to me and my mother. But not only would my fiancé lock me in our room when he wanted to punish me, but afterward, in the bedroom, he’d remind me exactly who was in charge. Those are the dreams I can’t seem to shake.”

“This is the bastard you didn’t want me to kill?” The words rumbled from his chest. “My God, if I had known the extent…”

She uncurled herself from his arms, and her soft hands wrapped around his neck. “I hurt you before—when you were only trying to protect me, and I’m so sorry.”

“You’ve been through hell in your life, and I’m sure my actions, from the moment we met, didn’t make things any easier on you.”

Emily arched one delicate brow with an unsaid,
you think?
“When you showed up, I was desperate to reinvent myself. To regain control of my life. When Jeff knocked on the door that night, I needed to feel like I could hold my own against him. To prove to myself that he didn’t intimidate me anymore.”

“I never want you to feel like a prisoner with me.”

“You make me feel cherished and, at the same time, amazingly free to be myself. I realize I would never be in prison with you.” She rose to her knees, punching the air from his chest and grabbing the reins to his heart with the smoldering heat in her gaze. “Just the opposite. With you… Because of you, I’m empowered. And I’m not running anymore. I love you, Kenric St. James.”

Emily knew she’d laid it all on the line. Like a giant bull’s-eye, she’d stuck her heart out there, and it was open season. But the way he touched her, held her, and wanted to know everything about her, said he cared.

“You have no idea what a miracle you are to me, do you?” Both of his hands burrowed into her hair. “You’ve brought happiness into my life again. I’d built a wall around my heart so high, I didn’t believe it would be possible for anyone to scale it.” His lips brushed her forehead, and the slight touch flipped her heart over. He drew back and gave her a smile that brought a hitch to her throat. “But you did.” His thumb stroked her bottom lip, sending a tingle of desire down her spine and a rush of arousal between her legs. “You not only scaled it, but you brought the son of a bitch crashing down.”

He laughed, and it played like beautiful music to her ears. The tune carried notes of pure, unabashed joy, and it filled her heart to near-bursting.

“Stay there. I have something I want to give you.” He left the bed before she could reply.

He sauntered naked across the room, each step powerful and sure, the rippling flex and extension of his muscles declaring him a warrior. The man made her blood overheat.

Moments later, he stood at the bedside holding a black leather pouch. He held it out. She opened her hand, and he dropped it into her waiting palm. “What is this?” She held the lightweight package up and studied it.

“Open it and see.”

She pulled at the ties and spread the material open. Inside laid a coiled bundle of leather straps lined with a silver band on one side. “Uh… Thanks?” She glanced up, and one corner of her mouth rose in a smile.

He grinned but didn’t elaborate. Instead, he climbed into bed and stretched out like a big cat waiting for a scratch to its tummy. And damn if she wasn’t itching to oblige, but first, she had to figure out what the items in her hand were intended for.

“Kenric, what is this all about?”

“Come here,” he said in a deep and sexy-as-hell voice. A voice that he had to know damn well would have her doing anything he asked.

As if she were feather-light, he grasped her, placing her astride his hips. His thick shaft nestled in the groove of her bare bottom, chasing her breath away. The storm returned to his eyes, the one named desire. And it consumed her. She rode the waves cresting there, and he took her out to sea. No lighthouse to find her way home, but she wasn’t afraid. She wanted to stay there—with him—forever.

“Since the first moment I met you, I knew you were something very special. But because of the danger and the darkness that surrounds me, I didn’t want to acknowledge the reality of what I’d found.” He brushed her cheek. “You’re my soul mate, Wildflower. And I know that with every fiber of my being. You were meant for me.”

It was as if he were reading the script etched on her heart. She believed it as well. He was meant to be in her life. “You’re my rock, my anchor, Kenric St. James,” Emily said, her voice cracking. She placed her palm over his breastbone, and he gripped her fingers.

“For a master vampire, the discovery of a mate that’s a perfect match, body and soul, is a powerful and rare experience. But I didn’t want to believe it had happened. Because caring for any woman has proven in the past to be a death sentence to the one who chose to be a part of my life. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, too.” The tender look on his face tied her up in knots. She sat the gift bag on the washboard of muscles before her, then slid her palms down the sides of his arms and into his hands.

Suddenly, a smile curved lips so delectable, she had to resist the urge to lean forward and steal a taste. “But look at you, sitting there, having defied death.” His hands left hers and followed the curve of her arms down to the tops of her thighs. “My Wildflower, you’re so strong—beautiful—and the other half of my soul. I love you.”

She chewed her lip to keep from sobbing once more in front of him.
Shit
. The man made her snivel like an idiot. “Kenric…” He stole her words, her mind. Placing her hands to his abs, she leaned forward and tasted his lips before claiming his mouth.

He kissed her like a man starved. Famished for the love he’d denied himself for years. She returned his hunger, wanting to be the woman who gave him everything his heart had been missing.

Without warning, he took his lips from hers. “There’s something I want to offer you,” he whispered breathlessly.

“I don’t need anything else. I have all that I need right here.” She placed a finger to his lips.

“Please, I want to do this, but I want you to think before you answer, because it cannot be undone.”