Chosen: Book 1 in the Ancients of Light series
Page 10
Kaitriana was restless beneath the coverlet, her body straining for contact with his. The vampire was making her crazed despite her fatigue. Her mind grabbed at the random thought that Lorcan absolutely must find her as appealing as she him, else he would not be toying with her so. If he had not been holding her hands, she would have clapped them together repeatedly with delight.
Lorcan flicked his tongue around the sensitive curve of her ear just then, scattering her thoughts completely. He gave the lobe a gentle nip before continuing, “If you were mine, little witch, I would feed you my blood just as slowly while pleasuring you. I would give you small doses, until you were nearly mad with hunger for my claiming and my blood. I would not allow you to sate either completely until the night ended. The very last time I claimed you I would put my vein to your lips as you were crying out my name, so that you would sleep with the taste of me lingering.”
Kaitriana moaned against his lips when they brushed hers a final time and then Lorcan raised her head gently. Stretching his length out beside her, he cradled her up and settled her against his chest. He cautioned again in a whisper, “Shhh…eyes closed, witchling.” Pressing his wrist against her mouth, the small wound he had made allowed his blood to spill between her lips. She licked sensuously at it, enjoying the taste of him bathing her mouth for prolonged minutes until he pulled free.
Lorcan knew it was not the best form to give the new vampire female his blood but he could no longer resist the pull to feed her directly from his vein. He smothered her complaining groan at the withdrawal of his wrist with a fleeting kiss. Pulling her tightly to his chest, he pushed her head down firmly on the same, “Shhh…Kat. I want you to find sleep with my taste lingering now.”
He did not deny his needs any longer either because Lorcan knew he had no intention of leaving her. He had been aching for the witch for centuries and would keep her with him the remainder of the night. Given that he had lost her once, he was not quite certain when he would be ready to allow her leave his presence, if ever. Lorcan waited until her breathing grew even and then allowed himself to find a blissfully peaceful rest as well.
CHAPTER 14
Kaitriana woke with no remnants of sleep clouding her consciousness. She stretched lazily in the bed, her hands skimming across the cool silk linens and bringing her back to the awareness of all that had transpired since she awoke yesterday. She rolled to her side with another languid stretch, wondering where her protector could have gone. The room was not so large that she would not have heard him if he were about in one of the adjoining chambers.
Opening her eyes her gaze lit on a young male reclining in a chair pulled up a few feet from the bed. Kaitriana stifled the yelp of surprise as her eyes narrowed on him. A quick study indicated that though his eyes were trained on the bed he was not seeing her. Her mind grabbed the random memory and she knew this would be the witch, Jortha.
He spoke plainly to her, offering no introduction as though he knew precisely the line of her thoughts, “Lorcan has been called away for a brief time and he asked that I watch over you in his absence.” His tone was not cold exactly, but given that they were of the same species she had expected to receive more from him than cool detachment.
Tilting her head she perused him thoroughly before, only half joking, she asked, “Did he ask you to watch over me, or to watch me Jortha? Those are two entirely different requests.”
Her use of his name did not seem to catch him by surprise though she had not entirely expected that it would. Kaitriana’s knowledge of him was that he held the magic of the Seer as well as a Spell Caster. Jortha could see the unseen nearly as well as her grandfather. Her grandfather’s memories of the younger male were filled with warmth.
Kaitriana had gained feelings from certain recollections when they had been passed to her and she suspected that Myrrdyn would not be pleased if he knew it. Myrrdyn had taken specific measures to make certain that anything he had divined through his powers regarding herself, and the Prophecy specifically, were not given to her, but obviously he had not known of this particular affect from sharing his thoughts with her. The memories of Jortha were warm and that meant that Myrrdyn had a fondness for the male witch. She intended to adopt the same affection towards this one.
Jortha rose from his chair as she climbed from the bed. His tone was definitely unfriendly as he reported, “I believe his actual words were, ‘Keep her out of trouble, Jortha.’”
Kaitriana laughed delightedly over Lorcan’s dictate and the witch’s obvious distaste with the babysitting assignment. Jortha appeared taken aback, as though he expected her to be angry over his taunt, but Kaitriana was oblivious to his reaction. Sidetracked, she had spied a gorgeous gown draped over the back of one of the large couches on the other side of the room.
The satin material was ice blue and Warrior Caste symbols had been embellished on the material of the skirt in the same shade that was in the silks of Lorcan’s bedding. Her sigh echoed her appreciation; she loved beautiful clothes though she frowned at the little matching slippers placed to the side of the couch. Shoes, bah. Lorcan either had a seamstress at his beckoning call or the garments had been created through magic. She guessed it was the latter of the two. Spinning back to Jortha and barely able to contain her eagerness to get into that exquisite dress, she gushed excitedly, “Jortha, did you create the gown?”
He gave her an odd look before answering, “I assumed you would be more comfortable in garments of old until you acclimated to this era…” Trailing off as he heard her dash across the room and scoop the material into her arms, her coo of pleasure followed as she lovingly felt of the material.
Shortly Kaitriana was pulled from her enchantment by the thought of her dire need of a bath and she returned the gown to its former spot before she managed to get it filthy. Jortha shifted uncomfortably when he heard her abruptly drop the gown and wondered at her sudden change in behavior. He was not left much time to reflect on it as Kaitriana merrily crossed the space that separated them and startled him by dropping an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek. “Jortha, tis the most amazing dress I have ever seen much less been allowed to wear. You are my most favorite person in the Realm today.”
Clapping her hands in her excitement she glanced back longingly at the gown. Spying the shoes once more, she asked quietly, “Will your feelings be hurt if I do not wear the shoes?” There was a good bit of hope in her voice.
Jortha gave her the shake of his head; she apparently was daft. Why would the Chosen act as though the gift of a dress were anything but her due? And why would she give a thought to what his feelings were on the matter? She was the foretold ruler of the Realm and she would have houses full of these dresses if that was her wish. Jortha was also certain she possessed every ability to create them herself.
She watched the young witch’s shifting expressions; he seemed bothered and his attitude nagged at her. Kaitriana was dying to get a peek into the bath that adjoined the chambers, but it would wait. She dropped back to the edge of the bed and leaned towards him, asking pointedly, “Jortha, is there something about me specifically that you do not like, or is it that you too think I am an abomination? I understand that you have been living with this Vampire Coven over two centuries. Perhaps you share their beliefs?”
Shuffling his feet as was his habit when discomfited, he hedged, “Lorcan said you demanded a bath, everything you need should be in there.” He pointed in the general direction of the door on the far north wall opposite the bed.
Kaitriana answered with laughter over the mischaracterization, “I would not say demanded. Rather, it was a strong desire that I be allowed to remove the blood and gore from my person before climbing into bed.” She frowned and picked at her now horribly rumpled gown, “Lorcan disagreed, so yes, it is top on my list of things to do this morn.” Glancing out to the rapidly dimming sky, she corrected, “…err…eve.”
Ignoring her earlier query, Jortha inclined his head to her in farewell and turned to take his leave.
Her words stopped him short, “Jortha, I would prefer to know what it is that I might have done to cause your upset with me so that I can correct it. It is important also that I do not make the same mistake with others in Lorcan’s Coven.” Her voice wavered a bit; she was saddened with the thought that had crossed her mind. She offered the same thought freely to Jortha now, “I do not know how long Lorcan will allow me to stay within his home but I do not wish to bring any trouble to him by my presence.”
Jortha returned to the seat he had occupied, his movements so certain that one would think he had use of his eyes. Settling, he recalled that in his youth there had been stories of this one and sadness in the Witch faction at her demise. She supposedly had captured the hearts of many in her short days with them. It had been said she was kind of nature and pure of heart; the opposite of her evil rival that now made home with the Dark. Kaitriana might not be the demanding, spoiled creature that he had anticipated.
Sighing, Jortha explained with a touch of agitation, “Your presence already brings Lorcan trouble, Kaitriana. He was summoned by the Council at twilight to give an accounting of your existence.” Not waiting for her reaction, he folded his hands in his lap, “Within his Coven, however, you are free to behave as you will. Lorcan gave you more than merely his protection. With all his people as witness last night, he gave you the status that would be reserved for his mate. None here would dare cross you, even if the tales of your extraordinary powers were not already spreading through the Realm.”
Astonished at the revelation of the meaning behind Lorcan’s words on the steps of the keep, Kaitriana began worrying her lip and leaned forward to grab Jortha’s hand. Her words were hushed and solemn, “Will it be better for Lorcan if I leave here Jortha? I cannot be a source of problem for him.” Her anxiety was building as Myrrdyn had not yet found her. What if he had forsaken her for some reason and now she might too need surrender the protection offered by Lorcan?
Jortha realized that he could be rid of her, along with all the worries that had plagued him since her appearance. He feared that he might lose his place as Lorcan’s coveted and protected Seer. Worse was the concern that Lorcan would be set upon by both the Dark and the Council if he insisted in protecting the female. The worst possible outcome was that the girl could turn as darkly as the other had and bring more death and destruction to the Light.
The sincerity of her worry pulled at him however and he could sense no duplicity in her actions at this moment. His loyalty to Lorcan was also greater than his personal fears, so his words were resolute, “Lorcan would be more hurt by your leaving than anything that may result from you being here. Your reported death caused him much distress all these centuries.”
Appreciative of his honesty, she squeezed at his hand before pulling back. “Jortha, will you help me? I do not know how to make my way in this world of the Vampire. Myrrdyn gave me his memories of the past so I understand the current circumstances in the Realm, but even Myrrdyn is not privy to the workings of covens. I need to make no missteps here; I am already in defiance of their laws by my very existence.”
Jortha’s response was just the slow shaking of his head. Kaitriana’s dismayed sigh followed as she thought she might have made headway with the younger witch. Her obvious disappointment prompted his admission, “I have not embedded myself in the Vampire culture, Kaitriana. The only vampire that I associate with is Lorcan. The remainder keep their distance from me and I from them…they are nothing to me.”
Her incredulous tone mirrored her shocked expression, “Jortha, how can you exist here and not have made your peace with the Vampire, at least those that reside in Lorcan’s Coven?” Kaitriana launched into full-blown lecture mode, “We Witch chide the Vampire over their inability to move beyond the past. The betrayal at Laverock, whether real or feigned, is the sole reason their elders have for propagating the hatred of our kind. It colors everything that they set to do in the Realm and we ridicule them for being unyielding, ignorant beings. How are you different Jortha?”
Leaning forward she jabbed a finger at his chest. The impact caused him to press hard against the back of his chair and Kaitriana continued heatedly, “I know that you were attacked by the Darks, but evil is not confined to the Vampire breed nor is it in all of the Vampire. I was nearly killed by vampires, but I was delivered up for them by a witch. Should I forsake both factions?”
Kaitriana stood. Her hands were clutching at her skirts in her agitation as she scrutinized him, near shouting, “Jortha, shame on you for taking refuge in Lorcan’s home all these years and shunning his people. Lorcan should have booted your ungrateful arse into yonder loch centuries ago.”
She had worked herself into a good bit of ire and stomped across the room to peer out into the night. Noting that the sky was not filled with lightning, she was somewhat mollified by the sign that she was gaining control over her magic. Whirling away from the window, she snatched up the gown. With a huff Kaitriana kicked the offending shoes under the edge of the furniture.
As she strode past Jortha, still seated and motionless in his chair, she delivered a sound smack to the back of his skull. He was still recovering from his startled flinch when she tossed at him, “Jortha, I am having that bath now. Let me know when you decide to grow up.”
Jortha waited until the door slammed behind her before venturing to take his leave. Though thoroughly chastised, a grin slowly took his face. He shook his head in disbelief. This fireball would capture the hearts of many in the Realm and set them all on their ears in the process. Lorcan’s regimented life was about to undergo a drastic change. This witch was little but mighty and he made no reference to her magic with that assessment. As Jortha exited the chamber and headed down the steps, still grinning, he heard the melee in the hall that would be indicative of Lorcan’s return.
CHAPTER 15
When Lorcan had finally calmed himself enough from his encounter with the Council to climb the stairs to his chamber, he was much later in joining his little female than he had intended. Many already filled the great hall for their evening gathering. The nightly event was informal and had begun centuries past; most of the Coven convened at the start of the eve to socialize and to share in a good glass of wine before venturing off in whatever direction they might be heading.
The gatherings had been less jovial and merely more a comforting ritual in these past few years, given the toll the war had been taking on those of the Light. Tonight many more than usual were in attendance and in abnormally high spirits. Dressed in their finery, all hoped to catch a glimpse of Kaitriana and to hear the results of his summoning before the Council.
Only the members of his Elite knew the extent of his meeting and that the elders had demanded custody of the witch. His failure to comply would result in his removal from his seat on the Council and his own Coven would be outcasts in Vampire society. The potential ramifications were dire, but he would not be turning the girl over. Lorcan would leave his Coven before allowing his people to be harmed by his feelings for Kaitriana. His answer to the Council had been only that he was taking it under advisement.
He attempted to shake off the anger that still raged in him at their behavior and particularly that of his father. Lorcan had argued over the fate of Kaitriana in light of her transition to the Vampire species. The Council had been unreasonable in their ignorance that was built on prejudice and hatred of the Witch species. He had never had a real expectation that he would sway their opinions and in the end there was little reason to put forth the effort. The dictate had been handed to him before any meaningful conversation could be had.
Lorcan opened the door to his chambers slowly to give the little witchling notice of his arrival; he was not surprised that Kaitriana had not ventured below. Lorcan did not think her the type to cower in fear of the unknown but he also surmised that she was neither reckless nor foolish. She would not enter into this new culture without him to guide and support her. Given her display in front of his people last
night, she would have concluded it safer to wait for his return.
Scanning the room in search of her, Lorcan touched on every corner and amongst the sitting areas scattered throughout the chamber before his eyes found her. Stretched out in a luxurious gown on the plush rug in front of the fire, her eyes were closed and her left arm was cushioning her head. She lay on that same side facing the blaze. The ice blue of her dress was a stark contrast to the inky curls that were falling haphazard over her side and back. . Returning home to find her ensconced in his chambers as though her rightful place had always been with him, filled him with a myriad of emotions, none of which were unpleasant.
Although he could not yet see her eyes, he was certain the gown matched them perfectly. He identified the signs of the Warrior Caste in patterns on her skirts. Wondering if she realized that the deep blues that filled his room and now designed her attire were of his own crest, he decided to rouse her from her dozing with that fact, “I like seeing you in my colors, Kaitriana.”
The deep timbre of his softly spoken words rolled over her and pleasure coursed through her at his arrival. Her eyes swept up to his as she stretched slowly on the rug and then returned to her previous pose, “I like wearing your colors, Vampire.” Kaitriana’s mouth quirked but her smile stayed hidden, while Lorcan grinned broadly in response. He liked her sass, as well as her honesty.
Lorcan moved slowly towards the fire, his eyes taking a leisure study of her. The form fitting satin clung to her curves, causing his fangs to lengthen against his lip with a rush of desire. He lowered himself into one of the massive chairs flanking the hearth at the edge of the rug, continuing their easy banter, “Because they are mine or because you like the color, Witch?” Lorcan held her gaze with a smoldering look. He could play these games with her all evening. The realization bolstered his faith in his earlier decision that he would leave the Coven before giving her up.