“Think,” she urged.
“I don’t want to think. I want to kill.”
She met his glare with one of her own. “You can’t kill Riven,” she reminded him in fierce tones. “Not as long as he’s in control of the Tryshu.”
Several more figurines flew off a nearby table. “I’m not going back to that prison.”
Waverly briefly considered the desperate ploy of creating a portal and pushing the vampire inside. If he wouldn’t protect himself, she would. Then she gave a shake of her head. There was no way she could overpower a vampire, let alone a clan chief. Even if he was constantly being drained by Riven.
Time for Plan B.
“Come with me,” she commanded, hurrying across the floor to push open a door on the far side of the room.
He grudgingly followed behind her, stepping into the connected room. His brows arched as he glanced around at the explosion of vivid colors. Bright blues, vibrant yellows and deep reds. It made her feel as if she was sleeping among a coral reef. In the center of the floor was a large bed that had been carved out of obsidian and studded with opals.
His eyes darkened before his lips twisted in a strange smile. “I don’t think now is the time to satisfy your desire for me, princess.”
She hunched her shoulders, stupidly hurt by his mocking words.
“I should turn you over to Riven,” she muttered, moving toward a floor-to-ceiling window that offered a stunning view of the ocean that surrounded them.
“What are you doing?” Tarak demanded as she bent down to touch the floor just below the window.
There was a whispered ‘whoosh’ as a section of the marble disappeared to reveal a narrow hole that was built beneath the floor.
“When my father created the castle, he provided a secret space for me and Sabrina in case we were ever invaded.”
Tarak moved to cautiously peer into the darkness. “Wouldn’t Riven know about it?”
She shook her head. “No, Father had died before Riven became king, so he never passed along any secrets, and I certainly never told him.”
Tarak turned his head to meet her anxious glance. “You want me to hide?”
“Just until I can get rid of Riven.”
He stepped back, folding his arms over his chest. “No. I’m not a roach who scurries into the gutters when my enemy appears.”
Frustration along with a swelling fear combusted inside Waverly. Damn the vampire and his pride. It was going to get them both thrown in the dungeons.
She planted her hands on her hips, using the only weapon she possessed to force him to act like a rational demon.
“Do you want to kill Riven or not?” she demanded.
His brows snapped together. “Of course I do.”
“Then you have to survive long enough for me to figure out how to get the Tryshu from him, right?”
His hands clenched, his power wrapping around her. “Don’t betray me, Waverly.”
She held his gaze as he forced himself to drop into the hole. Bending down, she closed the panel with a pang of regret. This was the only way she knew how to protect Tarak. At least as long as he refused to leave the castle. But she abruptly understood that it was more than just his ego that made him reluctant to enter the secret room. He’d been locked in his prison for five hundred years.
The cramped space was no doubt triggering a sense of claustrophobia.
With a grimace, she rose to her feet and hurried toward the opening that led to the bathroom. Right now nothing mattered but ensuring that Riven couldn’t find Tarak.
Rushing to the large, shallow pool in the center of the mosaic-tiled floor, she turned the faucets on full blast. Then she grabbed a bottle of her favorite bubble bath and dumped it into the swirling water.
The room where Tarak was hidden had been magically enhanced to hide his scent, but she needed to make sure that any lingering hint of his presence in her room was eliminated.
Fast.
The soft aroma of lavender floated through the air just as there was a sharp knock on her door. Waverly paused to steady her racing pulse before she forced herself to walk back through her suite at a slow, leisurely pace.
There were several more knocks on her door before she finally pulled it open to glare with annoyance at the males standing in the hallway.
Riven and his shoal of goons.
They were all wearing their specialized armor and Riven had the Tryshu tightly clutched in his hand. But oddly, his crown was missing.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
Riven leaned forward, sniffing the air. “Are you alone?”
She sent him an outraged frown. “Of course I’m alone. I was just about to enjoy a hot bath.”
Riven narrowed his eyes. “It will have to wait.”
“Why?” She forced a stiff smile to her lips. “Are you calling yet another gathering?”
Riven gave a wave of his hand, his gaze never wavering from her face. “Leave us.”
The warriors didn’t hesitate to scurry down the hallway. Waverly suspected they inwardly hated Riven as much as she did, but they were willing to abandon their principles for the opportunity to be promoted to the royal guard.
“Must we do this now?” she demanded. “My bath—”
Riven abruptly shoved his way past her. “Where’s the vampire?”
Waverly stiffened, not having to pretend her indignation at his intrusion into her private rooms.
“Excuse me?”
Riven scanned her sitting room, his eyes narrowed as he slowly turned to face her.
“The vampire,” he repeated. “Where is he?”
“How would I know?” She conjured an expression of confusion. “You told me he escaped.”
“Yes, he did.” Riven stepped forward, grabbing her chin in a brutal grip. “And if I suspected for a second you were involved I would kill you.”
Waverly’s breath hissed through her teeth as pain shot through her. He was close to breaking her jaw. “I wasn’t. I swear,” she rasped. “I had no idea he wasn’t in his prison until you told me.”
Her words were all perfectly true, giving them the sincerity she needed to convince Riven she had nothing to do with Tarak’s escape.
“And now?” he demanded.
She licked her lips. “Now?”
“Has he tried to contact you?”
Waverly was careful to avoid telling a direct lie. “Why would he?”
Riven hesitated. Was he considering how much to give away about Tarak’s escape?
“There’s a chance the vampire managed to enter the castle,” he finally admitted.
She widened her eyes. “That’s impossible. Unless you’re claiming that one of our people brought him here?”
He released his hold on her chin, as if satisfied that she had nothing to do with Tarak.
“If he is in the castle, there’s every possibility that he will seek you out,” Riven said.
Waverly resisted the urge to reach up and touch her bruised chin. She had her own share of pride. She’d be damned if she’d let Riven see how much he’d hurt her.
Instead she continued with her pretense of bafflement. “Why would he seek me out?”
“Ah, sweet Waverly.” He reached out again, but this time his fingers merely stroked down her cheek before his hand dropped. “I can smell him on your skin. As if he has been imprinted on you. The two of you have bonded.”
She flushed despite her best efforts. He knew that she was besotted with Tarak? That was… embarrassing.
“He hates me,” she said, once again speaking the truth. “As far as he’s concerned, I’m the enemy.”
“An enemy that he can manipulate to help him,” Riven drawled. “He’d be an idiot not to realize you’ve become his devoted slave.”
She pressed h
er lips together, only vaguely aware of the sour note of jealousy in the male’s voice.
“I did what you commanded me to do,” she muttered.
Riven shrugged. “Perhaps at the first, but it became so much more than that, didn’t it?” His gaze slid down her body, lingering in a way that made Waverly’s skin crawl. “Or did you think I wasn’t aware of all those times you used to sneak away to visit the prison?”
Waverly jerked. He’d known that she was visiting Tarak? So much for thinking she was so clever.
“If you knew, why didn’t you say something?”
His gaze returned to her face, a smirk playing around his mouth. “The more times you fed the creature the stronger I became.”
Waverly felt a queasiness curl through the pit of her stomach. She’d never bothered to consider whether or not her clandestine visits to the prison might have consequences.
Because I was too selfish to care, a voice whispered through the back of her mind. She’d wanted to be with Tarak and nothing else had mattered.
Grimly thrusting aside her self-disgust, she concentrated on getting rid of her unwelcomed intruder.
“If the vampire is in the castle, he didn’t seek me out.”
Riven glanced around before abruptly heading toward the connecting door.
“You’ll forgive me if I take a look for myself,” he told her, stepping into her bedroom.
She hurried to join him, scowling as he made a slow tour of the room before moving to brush his hand over the quilt that she’d stitched with her own hands.
“Do you think I’m hiding him under the bed?” she snapped, feeling violated by his presence in her most private sanctuary.
Riven turned to face her. “I think you would do anything to protect your lover.”
“He isn’t my lover.”
His dark blue eyes glittered with a strange heat. One she’d never seen before.
“You better hope that you speak the truth, Waverly—unless you no longer care what happens to your sister?” He deliberately paused. “Or the children.”
She stepped forward, her hands clenched. “If you dare hurt them—”
“So fierce.” He interrupted her empty threat, a smug satisfaction settling on his handsome features. “That’s why I have chosen you for the greatest honor.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Didn’t you wonder why I called for the gathering this evening?”
“Not really. You make a habit of coming up with excuses to sit on my father’s throne and force our people to admire you.”
He chuckled, indifferent to the disdain in her voice. His ego was so swollen not even a whale could dent it. “Why else be a king? On this occasion, however, I had a very specific purpose. One that includes you, my sweet.”
Waverly stilled. Like a guppy suddenly confronting a piranha. The last time she’d been included in Riven’s plans she’d ended up as a walking buffet for an imprisoned vampire. Who knew what he would demand of her now.
“Me?”
“Yes, sweet Waverly.” A slow, disturbing smile curved his lips. “I have decided that I need an heir.”
Waverly studied the merman in confusion. Did he just say he needed an heir?
“Why?”
“To rule at my side,” he told her. “Or rather, a loyal prince to watch my back. Plus, an heir gives me the added security of knowing that if something were to happen to me, my son would take my place.” Riven ran a loving hand down the silver handle of the Tryshu. “It makes it much less likely an overly ambitious traitor would attempt to get rid of me.”
Waverly gave a slow shake of her head. His words didn’t make any sense.
“The Tryshu chooses the leader of the mer-folk, not the bloodline.”
He managed to look even more smug. Not an easy task. “I’m breaking all the rules, or have you forgotten?”
“I haven’t forgotten you somehow cheated to gain the throne,” she said in scornful tones.
“Careful, Waverly,” he growled. “You have your freedom because of me. Don’t doubt that I can take it away.” He paused, as if struck by a sudden thought. “In fact, it might be for the best if I keep you locked in the royal chambers. It will offer us plenty of opportunities to create my heir.”
“Me?” Ridiculously, she hadn’t put his words together. She knew he was babbling about an heir and offering her a great honor. But she hadn’t realized the male thought that she would actually have sex with him…
“You’re out of your mind.”
Annoyance flared through his eyes, almost as if he’d expected her to be pleased by his offer.
“You will give me a child, Waverly.”
Her lips parted to tell him to go to the netherworld, only to snap shut at the sudden chill in the air.
Tarak.
Despite the heavy magical barrier that surrounded the hidden space his power was beginning to seep through the air. She had to get rid of Riven before he suspected why the temperature was dropping.
Spinning on her heel, she dramatically stomped out of the bedroom and into the front sitting room.
“Before you worry about an heir, don’t you think you should concentrate on retrieving your vampire?” she demanded, relieved when Riven followed her.
“If he is in the castle, there’s no way he can escape.” His expression appeared unconcerned, but Waverly didn’t miss the edge in his voice.
He was more worried than he was willing to reveal.
“And if he’s not?” she demanded.
“Then my guards will hunt him down.” He shrugged. “Or I will find another vampire.”
She narrowed her gaze. They both knew he couldn’t risk capturing another vampire. Not without the danger of inciting the fury of the new Anasso.
“I wouldn’t be so confident, if I were you,” she snapped.
Anger rippled over his face before he managed to paste the smug smile back on his lips.
“But you aren’t me,” he taunted. “And I know something that you don’t.”
Her heart missed a beat. “What’s that?”
He moved forward, drowning her in the bitter scent of seaweed. “I refuse to fail. No matter what I have to sacrifice.”
Relief that he hadn’t sensed Tarak crashed through her, along with a soul-deep hatred.
This male had cheated, lied, and manipulated his way to the throne. Now he intended to ensure that his treachery lived on for eternity.
The mere thought made her sick to her stomach. “What have you ever sacrificed?”
He deliberately ran a gaze over her rigid body before strolling toward the door.
“Remain in these rooms until I’m prepared to have you moved to mine,” he commanded.
She glared at him as he stepped into the hall and closed the door. Then, clenching her hands, she released the pent-up anger that pounded through her.
“Bastard.”
Chapter 9
Tarak ignored the pain that radiated down his arms as he slammed his fists against the magical barrier that kept him trapped.
When Waverly had first lured him into the cramped space he’d felt a stab of panic. The sensation of being locked in the darkness had brought back memories that were all too fresh. But oddly, he’d quickly managed to soothe his raw nerves, as if he possessed an instinctive trust that Waverly was trying to protect him.
Unfortunately, he’d barely been able to gather his composure before he’d overheard the conversation between Riven and Waverly.
It wasn’t a shocker that Riven could sense Waverly’s attachment to Tarak. The mermaid was a victim of her own emotions. There was no way in hell she could disguise them. It even made sense that Riven had turned a blind eye to Waverly’s secret visits to Tarak’s prison. The extra bursts of energy would’ve been a bonus to him.
&nbs
p; But when the bastard had started talking about an heir—with Waverly—well, he’d gone…
What was the human word?
Apeshit.
Yeah, that was it.
He didn’t know why. Waverly was not supposed to mean anything to him, right? She was a tool to use in his effort to kill Riven. But in this moment, she didn’t feel like a tool. Especially when he was forced to consider the thought of her in the arms of Riven. Perhaps growing heavy with his child.
No. Hell no.
The air thickened with ice as he continued to slam his fists against the barrier.
Then without warning there was a faint click as a lock was released and the panel above him started to slide to the side. At the same time the magical barrier disappeared.
With a roar, he was surging out of the hole and wrapping his arms around the startled Waverly.
“Tarak,” she squeaked, her eyes wide as she pressed her hands against his chest.
He glared down at her. “No.”
She arched back, her lips parted. “I can’t breathe.”
Tarak instinctively eased his muscles, although he kept her tightly clasped in his arms. As if he feared she might suddenly be snatched away.
“No,” he muttered.
“No what?”
“He can’t have you.”
Her wary expression was abruptly replaced with one of female annoyance.
“No male can have me,” she informed him in stiff tones. “I will make the decision who is allowed to become my mate.”
Tarak allowed his gaze to sweep over her lovely features. The stunning aquamarine eyes that were framed by lush lashes. The soft lips. And the noble thrust of her nose. Still, it wasn’t her beauty that was sending waves of possessive hunger crashing through him.
It was that strange tug of destiny that he’d pretended for five hundred years didn’t exist.
Something he was still trying to pretend didn’t exist even when his fangs were aching with the need to claim her.
“Every inch the princess,” he murmured, his hands splayed across her lower back as he tugged her against his thickening erection. “You’ve decided on me.”
A flush stained her cheeks. “No longer.”
Beware the Darkness Page 9