In the Service of the King

by Laura Kaye

  But the way it had been obtained…

  As he debated, Shayla drew her shoulders back, exaggerating her posture, as if she was girding herself for something. Her fingers fluttered for a moment before gripping the arms of the chair. She shook her head. Finally, she drew a breath. “May I speak, Your Highness?”

  The steadiness of Shayla’s voice intrigued him. Once again, she surprised him, and yet her approach in initiating a conversation fell entirely within her role. Strong, disciplined, magical, sensual, beautiful…her appealing attributes multiplied with each passing minute. Wary, Kael nodded. “Speak freely.”

  Her body eased forward on the wooden seat, setting off alarm bells in Kael’s head. Almost in slow motion, Shayla sank to her knees in front of the chair and assumed the waiting position in every manner except one: rather than rest her hands palm up on her thighs, she reached with her left hand and grasped the goblet, then cupped it in between both hands and held it above her head, up to him. “If it pleases you, Your Highness.”

  Kael’s heartbeat stuttered, then took off at a sprint. Her initiative was daring and so damn sexy his groin tightened in anticipation. He unthinkingly added courageousness to her growing résumé. And fuck if the dramatic gaping of her robe wasn’t the most decadent thing he’d ever seen. The top of the silk opened in a plunging V that revealed the rounded, heaving flesh of her breasts. But it was the bottom of the robe that exposed previously hidden territory. As she’d slid to the ground, her knees had pulled the hem back, and her open-kneed pose gave him a direct view of the dark triangle of hair between her strong, shapely thighs.

  The spiciness of her body’s natural lubricant combined with the rich, thirst-quenching promise of her dark offering proved an overwhelming aphrodisiac, spoke to parts of his soul he thought long dormant. Blood pounded through his head. His fangs throbbed. His cock jerked.

  “Aw, hell,” he muttered as his instincts took over and cast his thinking consciousness into a dark corner. He stalked up to her and pulled the goblet from her hand, then placed it back on the stand. His hands threaded under her arms and, with little effort, pulled her to her feet.

  Holding her lovely face, he pressed his mouth to hers.

  Shayla’s mind erupted into a cacophony of joyous confusion. She’d been specifically told there would be no kissing. The king did not kiss. But, holy hell! Did the king ever kiss.

  His large frame bent down over her, surrounding her in his heat. His full lips sucked and pulled at hers and his tongue demanded entrance and exploration, which she freely granted. His hard muscles bunched and thrummed around her, setting her body on fire everywhere they touched. The scent of powerful masculinity filled her nose, and the exquisite flavor of his tongue in her mouth intoxicated her. And, oh God, every time she felt the passing hardness of his fangs as they kissed made her whimper and moan. Her body readied itself immediately for his, moistening, opening.

  Having shielded herself from physical relationships, she was astounded to learn her body had the ability to produce this crazy, urgent euphoria. Her brain scrambled to process each new, maddening sensation. In that moment, she would’ve done anything to maintain the feeling. Was it always like this?

  Kael growled low in his chest as his mouth came at her again and again, and Shayla felt the vibration of the feral sound against her breasts. She squeezed her thighs together, seeking friction to satisfy even a little of her now uncontrollable lust. Her mouth was so filled with his probing tongue it was difficult to get enough oxygen, but his kisses convinced her she could live without it as long as he continued to devour her so intensely.

  Never had she imagined the expression of physical love could make her feel so wanted, so needed.

  His obvious pleasure throbbed against her stomach and flooded her with unbelievable feelings of power, and just a little fear. Because they were off the grid now, outside the bounds of the rules and expectations she’d been taught during her training. And she was thrilled it might mean he was as affected by her as she was by him. Wherever the king was leading them, she was only too happy to follow. In truth, she felt powerless to do otherwise.

  A sharp, piercing sensation nicked the edge of her tongue. She gasped into his mouth. He bit her! They said he wouldn’t—

  All thinking abruptly halted as he sucked on her tongue and fed. The intense suction made her knees go weak and her cunt clench. She sagged against his chest and threw her arms under his and up around his broad back so she could grasp onto his shoulders for leverage. The suction pulled through her tongue again and again, lighting up her entire nervous system and promising to make her come if it continued. She dug her nails into his bunching muscles as he rocked his thick cock against her belly. She pushed up onto tiptoe to bring her aching, dripping center closer to where she knew instinctively they both needed it. He gripped her tighter as he bent his knees and rolled his hips against her lower pelvis, teasing her by inching ever so much nearer her quivering clit. She could hardly tolerate the pressure building inside her. He sucked and sucked at her until the overwhelming pleasure of it all sent her into a dizzying and explosive orgasm unlike any she had ever had by herself.

  A long, high-pitched moan ripped up her throat. Her legs lost all feeling and she fell against him entirely as all the muscles in the center of her body pulsed and clenched. His hands flew down to catch her weight and he pulled back from the kiss for the first time in what seemed like hours, glorious, ecstatic hours.

  Trembling shudders rippled through her body over and over. The waves of sensation trapped her, lifted her up and spun her around. Finally, her muscles quieted. Sheer amazement and a deep, warm satiation flooded through her blood. Struggling to focus, she smiled up at the king.

  Kael’s expression visibly chilled in the moments after she met his gaze. He shook her lightly and pushed her away from his body. “Stand.”

  Shayla stumbled one step then caught herself, but her mind was still flying just enough she couldn’t fully make sense of his actions. “Sire?”

  “No.” He shook his head and wiped at his mouth. His fists clenched.

  Shayla’s stomach plummeted into her pelvis. Her equilibrium faltered and she stumbled another step as the room seemed to bend and twist.

  The king stalked to the door in the back corner through which she had entered and hammered two swift blows with his fist against the wooden surface. “Retrieve the Proffered.”

  “What? No!” Shayla didn’t know whether to be pissed at the king’s mixed signals or mortified at his apparent displeasure in kissing her, in bringing her to orgasm. But what she didn’t want to know was his rejection. Not when he was her best hope for quenching the vengeful fire burning in her gut. But, more than that, the girlish dream that she could find a connection with someone as magnificent and mysterious and powerful as Kael the Fair didn’t seem so childish anymore. Not after what she’d experienced tonight. She might be inexperienced, but she knew what she felt, and she hadn’t imagined it. Some sort of primal, magnetic pull existed between them. She felt it in her bones, in her blood. Her heart squeezed and thrummed in recognition of the odd, compelling sensation.

  She had to make him believe in it, too. She resumed her submissive standing pose and lowered her head. “I will do better, Your Highness, please.”

  “Leave.” He paced from the back door toward the ornate one through which he had entered.

  Her whole body trembled at the impossible direction of their conversation. “No. Please. We can still—“

  “Go. Now!” His words roared and echoed through the stone chamber.

  Shayla jumped. Her tears flowed unbidden and she turned to retreat. Her first shaky step knocked her into the stand on which the goblet of her own blood still sat. The cup bobbled threateningly, a splash of crimson spilling out and staining a line of dark red against the bright white of her robe, before she caught and righted it. The sight of the crimson stain brought a whimper from her tightening throat and set her into a flat out run to the door.


  She hadn’t seen it open, but her trainer stood there, face etched with disappointment and confusion, waiting to escort her away from the chamber, away from the Warrior King of the Vampires.

  Chapter Four

  “Damnaigh sé go léir don diabhal!” Kael’s damning curse roared through the empty chamber.

  Fucking hell, he’d lost his goddamned mind. Lost all control. Fed from her.

  The knick of his fang against her sweet tongue hadn’t been intentional, at least he didn’t think so, but once he’d tasted her luscious blood, there was no going back. Each pull had warmed his chest, flooded him with power, and reverberated directly to his cock, driving him to get in her. He’d imagined the tight velvet clenching of her pussy around every inch of his length, unleashing the urge to thrust against her, seek out her wet entrance. Her allure was like a siren spinning dark promises in the night. Promises of paradise in the slick heat of her womanhood. Promises that, just maybe, forever existed in the cradle of her thighs.

  And then she had come. If he’d thought her beautiful before, it was nothing compared to her magnificence at the peak of ecstasy.

  But as he watched her ride out her high, his mind came back to him in starts and stops. He’d kissed her. She’d embraced him. He’d drunk from her. And he’d been about to fuck her standing right there in the center of the room as he devoured her lifeblood down his throat.

  Kael paced and tugged at his hair, spitting out a stream of expletives and plaintive pleas for guidance and assistance in his native tongue. “Cén bhrí atá ann? Cad é cuspóir an Céilí Dia ann?” If only the gods would answer him and explain his purpose—and why he felt so lonely fulfilling it.

  Ancient grief joined the raging river flowing through him and filled him with the need to destroy. He glared at the offending goblet of Shayla’s blood, but couldn’t bring himself to waste something so precious. Kael whirled, nearly upsetting a long mahogany console table, and unthinkingly cleared it in one violent swipe of his arms. Candlesticks and a vase of flowers clanged and crashed against the floor.

  The ornate door exploded open and a trio of massive bodies filled the entryway, guns and blades drawn.

  “My lord?” Liam rasped, his eyes wild as he surveyed the room. Braeden and Daire followed suit, braced for a fight.

  Kael shared a blood connection with the highest-ranking warriors that gave them the ability to sense his emotions, so he wasn’t particularly surprised by their appearance, though the last thing he wanted was an audience for his stupidity.

  He glared at the bewildered men. The scene was almost comical. Liam, still in his full regalia associated with the feeding ritual, Braeden and Daire dressed only in boxing shorts, their taped fists revealing they’d come directly from a sparring match in the compound’s massive training facility.

  “Jesus, smell that,” Daire whispered to Braeden as he lowered his weapon.

  Kael leveled his narrowed gaze at the young warrior. Braeden placed a warning hand on his mouthy brethren’s chest.

  Liam watched the exchange and turned to his men. “All is well. Leave us.”

  Braeden bowed his head and stepped back through the door first. “Come on, Daire,” he bit out.

  Daire inhaled deeply, taking the myriad scents still so thick and fragrant in the room into himself. Finally realizing everyone was waiting for him, he shook his head, bowed it and retreated.

  Liam secured the door before nailing Kael with a questioning stare.

  The king turned away and resumed pacing and ranting under his breath.

  “My lord, how may I be of service?” came Liam’s voice after a while.

  “You can leave.”

  “I cannot.”

  Kael flashed in front of him. “You can very well fucking leave.” His fangs elongated as he lashed out.

  “I will not!” Liam stepped forward, apparently refusing to be cowed. “You really want to do this?”

  They hadn’t come to blows in ages, but it had happened before. The king bored his gaze into Liam’s, but finally stepped back.

  Liam eased his stance. “Where is she?”

  “Gone,” Kael said as he looked down at the ground. His shoulders sagged as some of the fight went out of him. Everything just felt so…wrong.

  “Did you—?”

  Kael rolled his eyes at Liam. There was no way he didn’t smell that goblet of blood. “What do you think?”

  “And, why—?”

  “Christ, what are you? The Inquisition?” He drilled his angry stare into his brother in arms. Guilt flooded him. Minutes passed. “I hurt her.”

  Liam frowned. “What happened, Kael?”

  The thought of recounting all the ways in which he’d failed her exhausted him. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.” Liam sheathed the silver dagger and holstered his weapon. “I’ve known you my whole life. You would never hurt a female. Not intentionally.”

  “What do you want from me, Liam?”

  “I want to know why you sent her away. Why her lifeblood sits there wasting. Why you are more distressed than I can remember seeing you in aeons.” He held out his arms.

  “Oh, for the love… Fine. Her eyes were mismatched…one green, one blue. I covered them, because they were too damned fascinating. And then the hypnotism didn’t work. And she felt the cut of my blade, endured it without complaint. And I…I didn’t even fucking notice her pain. Then, as if she hadn’t proven herself worthy, she implored me to partake of her blood anyway, despite the way I’d failed her. I kissed her, Liam. And I drank from her. And then…”

  It had felt so damn right.

  But now she was gone. Her absence weighed on his shoulders, depressing him, squeezing his chest. Oh, the way he’d dismissed her… He groaned and scrubbed at his face with rough palms.

  Liam gaped at Kael’s rush of words. “You drank from her?”

  “Did I not just say that?”

  “Kael, did you claim her? Is she—?”

  His heart clenched. “Of course I didn’t. I cannot.” He met Liam’s questioning gaze. A dark realization rose up from his psyche, demanded to be voiced. “Liam,” he finally whispered, “I did not have to claim her. Somehow, I could tell…” He shook his head.

  Liam sucked in a breath and his eyes went wide.

  Though the righteousness of the admission nearly drove him to his knees, Kael resisted the truth of it. He sighed, a sound full of defeat and resignation. “Like I said, it does not matter. She’s gone. And it is better for her that she is.”

  “Do not be a fool, brother.”

  “Watch your tongue, Liam.”

  The warrior ran his hand through his brown hair, then grasped Kael’s shoulder. “Don’t assume you know what’s best for her. Bring her back. Let her choose.” Kael shook his head and dropped his gaze. “You must, Kael, you cannot continue this way.”

  Kael shoved the hand away and stepped back. “I do not see you seeking out a mate. Or most of the others.”

  Liam scoffed. “I have not found her. But I look. As for the others, you are their role model. They follow your lead.”

  Kael’s gaze cut to Liam’s. “What?”

  Liam heaved a breath. “It is time. Meara has been gone for three hundred years.” Outrage erupted in Kael’s gut, but Liam pushed on. “She would want you to be happy. She would want you to have comfort. You know damn right well she would kick your ass if she knew how you denied yourself.”

  Kael braced his hands on his hips and hung his head. Well, that was true. Meara had been a fierce woman, full of life and laughter and aggressively loyal. And she’d believed in love. Kael would go as far as to say she’d taught him what love meant, why it should be valued.

  “Jesus, Kael, if you’ve possibly found your mate, how can you even think of letting her go?”

  Kael inhaled a shuddering breath and rubbed his lips with his hand. Fuck. I let her go. No. I sent her away.

  And now she was out there, somewher
e. Unprotected. Vulnerable. The Soul Eaters had found his clan’s stronghold once. Though that particular band of evil had been eradicated, nothing said it couldn’t happen again. Meara hadn’t been his fault, he knew that in his heart of hearts. But if trouble befell Shayla after he’d thrown her out, that would lie at his feet. And it would crush him.

  Icy cold panic sloshed in his gut, seized his spine. “Shit, Liam. I was horrible to her.”

  Liam stabbed him in the chest with his pointer finger. “Then make it right.”

  Kael nodded, massaged his forehead. Wanting her wasn’t the question. Impossibly, he did, in every way and soul deep. But could he allow himself to be so vulnerable again? His heart panged and his hand dropped to his chest, applied counterpressure to ease the awful tightness there. Who was he kidding? Her loss already pained him. Resolve filled his gut and straightened his spine. “Get her,” he whispered, his tone urgent and strained.

  A smile full of boyish mischief and fraternal affection transformed Liam’s face. “Right away, my lord, right away.”

  Kael glared and Liam straightened his face as he sprinted from the room, but he moved with so much enthusiasm Kael couldn’t resist the buoyancy of good humor that inflated his chest.

  It constricted just as quickly. He needed to know she was safe. He needed to look into that mystical gaze. Anxiety tossed his stomach as he anticipated seeing her again. He couldn’t imagine what she must think of him, how she must be feeling. Christ, she wasn’t even down from the high of her orgasm when he threw her out.

  Kael braced himself. Every likelihood existed she wouldn’t want to return. And though that decision would level him, he wouldn’t blame her one bit.

  If Shayla never saw a blindfold again, it would be too soon.

  With her eyes covered to keep secret the rural location of the vampires’ compound, she reclined against the leather of the luxury sedan’s backseat. Having asked her trainer for some space, she rode alone. It was the middle of the night, just hours into the twentieth anniversary of her birth.