by Caris Roane
Just as quickly, the images slipped away and her mind was once again free.
Samantha opened her eyes. The room no longer spun, but she could see strange waves all around the perimeter. Something was wrong.
Really wrong.
“Samantha?”
She turned slowly, her head muddled and thick. A man stood in front of her now, a vampire, a mastyr vampire.
“Remember me?”
She looked up at him. “Mastyr Ry?” She smelled his blood need and her heart pounded in her chest.
His nostrils flared and his lids lowered to half-mast. “Goddess, your blood smells like heaven.”
She knew she shouldn’t do it, but she felt compelled as she opened her arms and eased her head to the side, exposing her throat. These were not her arms, her throat, her desires. She knew the dark fae force manipulated her, but she couldn’t do anything else.
Ry’s fangs emerged, pulling back from his lips. His jaw trembled, then he struck. She felt blissful as he pulled on her vein, drawing sustenance into his starved body. She was fulfilling her most profound purpose in life. But this wasn’t Ethan.
Not Ethan. The words left her mind but went nowhere.
She didn’t want to feed Ry but she couldn’t help herself.
She had to contact Ethan, had to find him.
Ry opened his personal frequency and began pummeling her chest and abdomen trying to get to her faeness. It would take so little to complete the bonding. She understand that now, that it was just a matter of her will, of acquiescing, of saying ‘yes’, and she’d belong to Ry.
Where was Ethan?
Her mind felt so loose and disjointed. The images of the previous battle at the Guildhall hovered at the edges of her mind, but she forced them away.
She just felt so confused.
Yet she had to do something, she just couldn’t remember what? She loved that she was feeding a starved mastyr. But this was Ry, not Ethan.
Ethan. She sent the call out to him as hard as she could, but the communication failed. She felt that the dark fae force had blocked it.
So good to give her blood. More images, though, of the Guildhall battle.
Once more she forced them away.
She had to focus, but on what?
Ethan.
Yet she couldn’t reach him.
She relaxed and stopped struggling. Ry’s arms tightened around her. At the very least, she wished she was feeding Quinlan instead of Ry.
Quinlan.
Yes, maybe she could reach Quinlan.
Using what was left of her strength as well as what little clarity of mind she had left, she pathed to the Mastyr of Grochaire Realm and found him. Quinlan, are you there?
Samantha?
I need help. Ry is here. Can’t reach Ethan.
Then her mind once more filled with the horrific visions of the battle at the Guildhall, forced into her mind by the ancient fae.
Ry’s voice intruded. “I can stop all these images if you’ll just bond with me. Say ‘yes’, Samantha. Just say ‘yes’.”
She wanted to. With all her heart, Samantha wanted the terrible images to stop and Ry sounded so sweet. He was a mastyr and he needed her.
But what about Ethan?
She held on to thoughts of Ethan, then the images looped again, of shrieking and body parts being severed, of enslaved realm-folk dying on the ground.
*** *** ***
Ethan, get over to Samantha now. She’s in trouble and she can’t reach you.
Quinlan? What the hell’s going on? Ethan was in the middle of the battle, sending energy flying in every direction.
Just go! She said something about Ry being there.
Got it! He contacted his Guardsmen, and because they were a well-trained team, the men closed ranks, releasing him from the field.
He felt it now, the same awful presence that he felt at Sweet Gorge, but stronger now, almost thick with energy. And she was in his home.
Sweet Goddess.
He flew straight for his house, going as fast as he could, which meant it only took seconds to reach the front door.
Throwing the door wide, he could sense Samantha now and how close she was to giving herself to Ry. The fae power was intense and where the hell was the Guard he’d left to watch the house?
He found him sunk in stupor just outside the archway to the conservatory, probably enthralled by the ancient fae.
When he moved quickly inside, he saw red all over again. Ry had Samantha in his arms, feeding brutally from her neck, his body hunched over hers.
“Get off my woman!” His voice bellowed through the space, shaking some of the crystal panes but having the good effect of forcing Ry to release Samantha. She was pasty white as she slid to the floor, weak at best, unconscious at worst.
He gathered power into his palms, energy radiating down both arms.
But Ry had just fed on a blood rose, so he turned up his own juice, and with bloodied fangs launched strikes from both palms then threw himself at Ethan.
Power roiled around Ethan, through him, punching at him. But he returned the favor and heard Ry grunt.
A pair of fangs ripped into his left shoulder. He gathered his energy once more and aimed at Ry’s back. As soon as he released, Ry shouted his pain, but sent an answering shot at the base of Ethan’s spine. He arched away from Ry, rolling in agony, but his enemy had just fed, more powerful than ever before.
Damn, he needed help here.
He was on his hands and knees, glaring at Ry who walked around him sneering, gloating. “Feeling weak, mastyr?” He laughed long and low.
And that’s when he felt it, the dark fae energy, muddling his mind.
Ethan, Samantha was in his head. Come to me. Together. We can do this.
She sounded so weak.
He understood. From his peripheral, he watched her crawling toward the central disk.
He had to get to her so that she could launch her fae power.
He gathered one last bolt of energy and flung it at Ry. At the exact same moment, he levitated in his half-kneeling state, caught Samantha up and slid her the rest of the way. He could feel the moment she let her fae energy flow and it was like a healing salve through his wrecked body.
He took in a long deep breath.
He heard Ry cursing as a faint female voice called out, We must go. You fool! You failed to complete the bonding!
He saw Ry fly through the arched doorway and knew when both he and the fae entity had left his house.
He lifted Samantha to her feet, her energy, supported by the crystal apex, still flowing.
He looked down at her and cupped her chin, kissing her on the lips, a soft expression of his gratitude for what had just happened. You just saved my life.
She kissed him back. And you saved mine, again. He almost had me, Ethan. He was drinking from me, and because the blood rose part of me doesn’t differentiate, I was so happy to meet that terrible starvation that all of you suffer from.
But he played into that, and tried to bond with me. All the while, I forced myself to focus on you, but the dark fae being, or whatever it is, started confusing my mind. She kept showing me battle images from the Guildhall fairgrounds, tormenting me.
He drew her into his arms. It’s over and you’ve been through hell, again. Guilt swamped him. He should have been here. He should have gone with his gut. When was he going to learn? And yet, she’d been so certain about the vision, not hesitating at all when she told him where she’d seen him.
Can you move us out of this stream, Samantha? I need to contact my men.
She nodded and eased away from the disk. He sidestepped with her and as before, the energy slid away, no stress or strain. He felt completely restored. Even the wound that Ry had inflicted at the base of his spine no longer hurt.
She planted her hand on his chest. “Call your men.”
He nodded and pathed to Finn who gave him an update. The Invictus had attacked every patrol and many were still ba
ttling. But Finn said the numbers of wraith-pairs captured was high, all being held in prison for later trials.
Ethan kept Samantha close, but the pull to go back out in the field almost overwhelmed him. Because together Ry and the fae entity had been able to enter his house despite the presence of his Guard, he wasn’t willing to jeopardize Samantha again tonight. I need you on this, Finn.
He outlined what had happened and Finn responded, I’ve got this. I’m in touch with Quinlan. He replaced you at the battle near your house, where the Invictus hit the hardest. I’ll let him know what’s going on.
I’ll be here tonight.
As it should be.
Ethan forced himself to let the whole thing go, the terrible sensation of anxiety that he should be out in the field himself. He’d left Samantha once tonight and he wasn’t doing it again.
After contacting Vojalie and making sure her family was safe, he turned Samantha in the direction of his suite of rooms, which he’d built with extra security. Once inside, he made sure the windows were locked down then he bolted the door.
Samantha admitted her fatigue and he gave her one of his tees to sleep in which went all the way to her knees. She looked fragile and sexy and he responded to both images. But he held himself back.
She needed rest.
She fell asleep almost immediately, so he moved into the living area nearest the bedroom door and from which he had a view of the oak grove beyond a thick pane of bullet proof glass. His vampire vision shifted subtly as it moved through the dark of night, through the trees, the black shadows of trunks and branches, but he saw nothing. Nor did he feel either Ry’s presence or the fae entity, as he’d come to think of this ancient woman, as an entity, something different from normal realm-folk.
He stood with his knees apart and his arms locked behind his back, restraining the rage he felt that Ry had almost taken what Ethan had come to believe belonged to him. It was a realm thing, a vampire thing, and a very male thing that he wanted Samantha in that way, like something his cave-residing ancestors might have done on principle, hauling a woman to his vampire lair, keeping her, making her his repeatedly until her stomach was swollen with his child.
His body trembled with exactly that kind of need and a matching rage that Ry had attempted to force and to trick Samantha into bonding with him.
Sweet Goddess, a few seconds more and he would have lost her, that’s what he understood as he stared out into the night, a breeze whipping the leaves and shadows around. The fae entity would have seen to it, would have confused her, and she would have acquiesced.
He’d almost lost her.
The idea of it sickened him. But how was he going to keep on in this way, without binding himself to her? Yet neither was ready to make that level of commitment. They’d barely known each other two nights.
He didn’t know what else he could do except stick close until he found a way to confront Ry and either arrest and imprison him or defeat him in battle for good.
*** *** ***
When Samantha awoke late the next evening, she put a hand to her chest, aware first and foremost of her heavily beating heart.
Ethan.
Ethan? She called to him, knowing he needed to be fed.
I’m coming.
She sat up in bed. She wore his t-shirt, the black fabric soft against her skin, his grassy, hillside scent sweet in her nose. She lifted the bottom of the shirt to her face and breathed deeply as desire swirled.
But right on the heels was the need to offer up a vein, so that when he opened the door to the suite, she held out her arms. “Come and take what you need.”
The look on his face, of sudden desire and relief mingled, made it an easy decision to take the shirt off and throw the covers back, baring herself to him.
He cried out, closing the door with his foot once more. He got rid of his jeans and long-sleeved tee in a flurry of movement, arriving beside the bed with his gaze fixed to hers.
Thank you, slid from his mind to hers.
She nodded and glanced down at what was firm. It’s okay. I’m ready. I want this. Take it all and take it now.
I hadn’t thought…I hadn’t expected…
The words drifted away because he kissed her and positioned himself between her knees.
But she pathed, You keep forgetting that I’m a blood rose.
He groaned heavily, plunging his tongue in and out of her mouth.
This coupling would be swift, only as long as it took for him to plunder her vein, but her body ached for him as well, from deep inside to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her fae frequency ignited at the same time reaching for his frequency.
As he slid his cock inside and began to push, he released his frequency and met hers, entwining.
She cried out. Passion flowed and she writhed beneath his body, pulling at the woven clasp to release his long hair, then losing her fingers in the thick curly strands.
She shifted her head on the pillow to expose her neck. He leaned down and with fangs fully emerged he struck to just the right depth and began long pulls.
His hips moved into her then drew back, only to return with heavy thrusts, arching and pushing each time.
Samantha slid from one extraordinary sensation to the next, to the feel of a warrior’s muscled body pulsing over hers, his scent in her nose, his frequency stroking hers, working her up, his cock hitting her just right and setting pleasure on pleasure, to his lips sucking her neck and her vein, drawing from her the supply meant for him, meant for a mastyr, meant for Ethan.
Only for you.
Yes, only for me. Mine, Samantha mine.
Yes. She didn’t want anyone else to take her like this, to drink from her as Ry had, powering him to hurt the man she…
Samantha drew in a breath and his drinking slowed.
What is it?
I…that is…nothing. She caressed his back, his shoulders, his arms. Keep taking from me. I love this so much. She’d almost said she loved him, but how impossible was that? She’d only known him a handful of days.
Yet with all they’d been through, it seemed so much longer. And because she felt his frequency, that she touched what was so intimate in him, in his realm-world, she felt she knew him better than she’d ever known her human boyfriends in the past.
But what did it mean to ‘love’ Ethan? What could it mean? She would have to give up her life in Shreveport and she wasn’t ready to do that. She’d have to become fully ‘realm’ and she wasn’t ready to do that either.
He left her vein and with blood on his lips he looked down at her and caressed her face with his hands. “Where did you go? You were right with me. I want you back.”
She nodded. “I want to be back.” The movement of his hips had slowed but he still pushed into her and pulled back, in and out. He felt so good and the connection was extraordinary. She wanted more, more of him, more of all that they could be together. She wanted him entangled as he was right this minute with her fae frequency.
She leaned up and grabbed his neck pulling him down to her. “Fuck me, Ethan. You’re what I want right now, right this minute. I’m here.”
He growled softly and held her gaze as he began to push inside her, heavy thrusts once more hitting her just right so that she began to clench. She could hardly breathe.
“That’s it. That’s what I wanted. To see you like this, your lips parted.”
He drew close and rimmed her lips with his tongue then pistoned his hips and kissed her hard at the same time.
Crying out against his mouth, she came, pleasure rising to a sharp crescendo, streaking through her body, up her abdomen and tightening her fae frequency to join in more pleasure so that she arched her neck and she screamed.
He pistoned hard, his cock ready. He shouted as he came, which brought her again, another flare of sensation that caused her body to writhe beneath his, her hands gripping his muscled arms, her well tightening around him, making him twist over her as the last of his pleasure flowed.
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She breathed hard as he eased down on her and as her own body let go and relaxed into the bed.
Perfection.
Couldn’t agree more.
He was breathing hard as well.
She surrounded him with her arms. Even their joined frequencies had relaxed but remained connected. She loved this, all of it, the giving of her blood, their frequencies joined, and sex with Ethan.
She didn’t want to give this up, but how far would she need to go from all her previous heartfelt plans and dreams, to stay here with him? She didn’t know if she could do it, not deep in her heart.
The superficial part, the simple desire to keep making love with him, understood exactly what she should do.
But she was old enough to understand that relationships were anything if not complicated, that pure desire, of any kind, couldn’t cut it for the long haul. And by everything she’d seen in the world of the Nine Realms, life would become increasingly complex, not less so were she to fully embrace her fae-self.
“You’re thinking hard.” His voice came out muffled, pressed as he was against the side of her head. She felt his lips kissing her hair.
“I woke up with a lot on my mind. So tell me about Bergisson, why you love it here.”
He took her on a journey of his childhood and how for the first fifteen years of his life, he’d explored every cranny of his world, every mountain and vale, every river, even the oceans between the realm, a world apart from earth, just somehow conjoined.
He spoke of traveling the next fifteen years from realm-to-realm, of meeting each of the mastyrs and knowing from an early age that he would one day be a mastyr and possibly rule a realm, but he’d never really believed it. Ry had ruled Bergisson for a long time. No one could be more powerful than Ry, but so Ethan had proved.
He stayed with her in bed for a long time, naked, sharing his life with her, his thoughts, his memories. Later, he brought them a platter of food, and a bottle of wine. His evening patrols wouldn’t begin for a little while longer, though he wasn’t sure he’d be leaving her because of what happened the night before.
Samantha treasured this time as Ethan shared with her. He’d never exchanged histories with any woman before, that much he told her. A strange kind of magic surrounded the sharing, and the entire time, he kept his personal frequency open so that though their bodies had disconnected, even when he’d gone to the kitchen, she’d remained joined to him.