Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Treasured

by Jolynn Raymond

  She was pacing now, the babe in her arms, cooing as he hissed at her, his tiny fists, tipped with even tinier talons waving in the air as if trying to get hold of her. Natalya had no doubt that even in his newborn state the child could manage to inflict quite a wound if he did indeed get his hands upon her skin. Still, he was Alliana and Lord Arcos child, and she had been left with the job of nanny to him, and it was one she had taken to heart, no matter how the little one she held seemed to dislike the idea.

  A loud wail tore from deep inside little Mikhalen, followed by an angry hissing snarl, and his tiny fangs, that always were present when he was in his vampire facade, gnashed and dripped with saliva. His eyes, which were such a brilliant shade of blue like his father’s now only held the amber glow of hell, and his face was red and contorted with rage.

  Natalya shivered as she held her charge, rocking him, then holding him closer, hoping the feel of her body close to his would calm him. When this failed she began to sing a lilting tune her mother had sung to her as a child, hoping against hope that it would calm the demon babe.

  “Is there trouble with the young Lord, Natalya? Shall I fetch his wet nurse?’

  Natalya whirled on her feet, startled. “No, let the poor woman have some peace. Hunger isn’t his trouble. He is simply... angry.”

  Lucian saw the look upon Natalya’s face. It was one of dismay and concern. It was clear she was doing her best to tend to the babe, but it was also clear that the young Lord Arcos was not your normal infant.

  “Natalya, you seem distressed. Tis the woman’s job to tend him.”

  “No, tis our job. Besides, he is the son of my dearest friend and regardless that he is... different, he is still her babe. I can handle him Lucian. The wet nurse has been through enough for the day. He is quite savage when he feeds. He, doesn’t simply pierce her breast to draw a bit of blood with his meal, he bites her over and over till his tiny face is covered in her blood. It is quite barbaric and she can hardly hold back her screams. I shan’t make her go through that when the babe isn’t even hungry.”

  While she was occupied speaking to Lucian, Natalya had let her guard down and became careless of the boy’s talons. Before she knew it, she felt a burning pain on her chest, over her breast. Shocked, she looked down to see that little Mikhalen had effectively sliced clean through her gown and left a tiny but deep slash in her skin. Blood began to flow immediately and the child began to rage as he scented it, unable to lift his head to savor the rich blood that was now flowing from the human who held him.

  “Natalya! Here, give him to me.”

  “No, wait. I have an idea.” She quickly deposited the now shrieking babe in his cradle and tore a strip of muslin from the bedding, holding to her wound to saturate it in her blood, and then twisting it into a tiny bundle.

  Lucian watched her, eyebrows raised; hoping whatever she had in mind would stop the high pitch wail that came from the cradle. The sound was pure agony on his heightened sense of hearing.

  Smiling, Natalya went to the cradle and picked up little Mikhalen once more, then popped the twisted blood soaked cloth in his mouth. The babe quieted at once, suckling like mad, finally content.

  “A vampire child’s version of the sugar teat. Hopefully that will keep him content for a while.”

  “A very wise move, dear Natalya. I for one am thrilled to have silence reign once more.”

  “As am I.” She looked down upon the babe to see that he once more held his sweet human features and dared a quick nuzzle of his downy black curls, thinking again how very much like Marishka’s they were, as was his temperament. Alliana was not the only one who had made the comparison between Lord Arcos child and his demented sister. She could only hope that through a loving and compassionate upbringing that the babe would learn to love as his father had.

  Lucian watched Natalya as she bestowed her sweet kisses and touch upon the child, thinking how dear she looked doing so, how right. His eyes followed her as she made her way to the rocking chair and sat down, beginning to sing once more to the now content and sleepy babe.

  Watching her, seeing her being so motherly, so very sweet and domestic tugged at something deep inside him. If she were to stay here in the castle she would never know the joys of motherhood herself. She could never bear a child within these walls; never know a mother’s love if she stayed... with him.

  The thought shocked him. Where was this tenderness coming from? He was a vampire and vampires didn’t sire children, well not human ones in most cases. What Lord Arcos had done had never been done before as far as he knew. But the real question was why did he have the sudden desire for the woman and child before him to be his family? It made no sense. He was a loner most of the time and preferred it that way. He had no desire to be tied to any woman, especially a stubborn, fiery tempered and hot-blooded Gypsy. No desire at all. Then why was the scene before him making him yearn for just the opposite?

  Scowling and emitting a small growl that surprised Natalya, he turned on his heel without another word and left the woman who was causing such disturbing thoughts to swirl in his head. All he needed was to be away from her. It was simply the bond they were tethered with because of the blood they shared. That was all. Babies and wives! Humph! Not now, not ever. He loved his freedom and no red headed Gypsy witch was going to make him change his ways.

  Natalya stared after him as he left in his fit, wondering what had caused his disquiet this time. It seemed as of late that he found her presence to be somewhat irritating and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. In the past they had bantered but now, more often than not, he simply fled at the oddest times. What was going on in that head of his? Had his feelings about her changed? Did he find her repulsive? It was hard to believe for she still caught him gazing at her in a way no gentleman should look at a lady, but if it wasn’t that, what was it?

  She felt a pull to him, an odd need to be near him, so his new attitude wounded her though she wouldn’t admit it. Their dance had changed and she wanted the old Lucian back, arrogance and all. Had she known that he’d been compelled to pause in the corridor to listen to her lilting voice as she sang to the babe, known that it drew him as surly as a Siren’s song and sent a tingle dancing at the base of his neck that couldn’t be ignored, Natalya’s thoughts would have been much more content.

  Chapter Eight

  Alliana awoke, confused about her whereabouts until she was able to make out the old familiar surroundings of the Gypsy wagon around her and hear the sounds of her clan as they went about their day. The light was filtered by the extra blankets that had been hung over the tiny windows to ensure her husband’s safety, so she was unsure as to the exact time, but it felt late.

  She, Mikhal, her parents, and her Godmother, Sabina had talked long into the night. Well Sabina hadn’t done so much talking, preferring to stare boldly at her husband, eyeing him up, sensing him out, and gathering her thoughts and feelings about the man who had wed their Golden Child.

  Her silence had not bothered Alliana in the least. Her Godmother had always been a quiet woman, speaking only when she felt she had something of importance to say. Sabina was an observer, using her unique gift of seeing things most could not, to judge her world. She did not rely on gossip for her information. Nothing could be gained by hearing tales of a person, and everything could be learned by watching and listening, for it was then a person’s true nature came forth.

  To say that Mikhal had been unnerved by her piercing black stare and silent tongue as he sat in the cramped wagon was an understatement. The old woman’s constant assessment of him, her judgment of each word he spoke, all of it made him feel inferior somehow, and it went against everything that was in his nature, but he endured for Alliana.

  Finally, when Alliana had begun to yawn, Mikhal had insisted that they be shown to their sleeping quarters. He was in dire need for some privacy with his wife and child, but even those wishes had been overturned. Having just fed Katia, knowing the babe would be co
ntent for a few hours at the least and having assured the new parents that there were many in the camp who could serve as a wet nurse if need, Sabina had convinced Alliana, without much trouble to Mikhal’s dismay, that the child should be given over to her care while Alliana and Mikhal slept.

  He had protested, but Sabina had given the excuse that they were weary from their travels, and that she wanted to spend time with the babe, seeking out her magick if indeed she held any. Seeing nothing wrong with her Godmother’s request, Alliana had handed his daughter over to the strange woman who unsettled him so, without a blink of an eye, then turned a warning glance at her husband. This was her family, this was how things were done, please don’t argue with her, she knew what she was doing.

  Mikhal had growled, but done as she wished nonetheless. He had acceded, but it was done very grudgingly. He knew deep inside that no harm would come to the babe, and Alliana’s fears about Katia being vulnerable in the castle might just be abated if it were found that the child contained magick of her own, but to have to spend time away from both his children made his instinctive need to protect them rise up inside.

  In the end they had been led to the wagon of Raphael, just as the breaking dawn was threatening. Mikhal had looked around with distaste at the small quarters, until Alliana had firmly closed and locked the door at the back of the wagon and begun to unfasten her gown, staring into his eyes as she removed her garments piece by piece until she was bare.

  “Will it be so very vile to have to lay so close in the tiny bed, husband?”

  Mikhal, whose blue eyes were now darkened with passion, mutely shook his head as he pulled Alliana into his arms. The feel of her warm soft skin made his already hard cock ache with need and Alliana could feel it pressed against her soft belly.

  He groaned, and then released her, holding her away from him, then giving in once more and pulling her close for a searing kiss, his loins on fire, his blood racing, as his tongue swept into her eager mouth and she kissed him back with all the natural passion that she held within.

  His hands caressed her bare back; sending tingles of fire along her spine wherever his fingers touched and a molten need spiraling up from deep within her belly. It had been so long, so very long since they had made love and she wanted him beyond reason.

  Hands everywhere, hers tugging at the clothes that kept his hard smooth body from her touch, his stroking heating the fires within, touching, dancing across her back, her bottom, the tops of her thighs. His lips caressing lips, demanding, hard, then gentle as he softened and nibbled at her mouth then kissed her jaw, her cheeks, then finally her neck.

  His mouth found his mark and Alliana cried out as his tongue lashed at the twin punctures. He bit down and she melted in his arms, a rush of moisture wetting her sex even as the fire within her built stronger.

  “Mikhal, oh Mikhal. Please.”

  “Tis too soon for what we both need, sweet. I shall hold you close to me and we can cherish the feel of each other’s arms.”

  Alliana looked at him, her green eyes full of longing and passion. Her gaze smoldering, her lips parted in a silent cry, shaking her head, knowing she needed more.

  “Before... Before we... You made love to me.” Alliana blushed crimson from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Women simply didn’t ask about things such as this but she felt such a yearning to be with her husband.

  Mikhal smiled, loving her innocence. “Yes, my love there is other ways, many others. I am concerned though. Just yesterday you were bleeding. Can you tell me there was no pain? Natalya said the birth was complicated.”

  “Mikhal, twas from running and from my fear for Katia. There has been little bleeding since I was in the cave. Just what Natalya said was normal. I swear, husband, my womb does not ache with pain, it aches with need.”

  Mikhal kissed her again, groaning as he did so. How could he refuse such a request? There were many ways in which they could give each other pleasure, and the thought of them being so close, their hearts as one once more, banished his worries. They needed this time to bond, to heal the past pain, to help regain the trust. Here she was, his beautiful wife, offering herself in the most loving of ways; he simply couldn’t deny her. Besides, if there were one sign of pain, one small cry of discomfort, he would cease immediately.

  “My sweet wife has turned into a vixen, but I cannot deny that it thrills me.” He scooped her up in his strong arms, cradling her close, kissing her face, her lips, her breasts, her nipples, listening for any sign of discomfort but hearing nothing but sighs of pleasure. They were so rosy, her sweet little peaks, and her breasts were large, and knowing that she nourished their daughter with such a beautiful part of herself made him want her even more. She was his life, his angel, his deepest need.

  Moving his lips back up over her breasts, nibbling and kissing, lapping with his tongue, he found the mark that made her his once more and bit down. Blunt teeth biting none too gently, and Alliana arched her back as she cried out, pleasure shooting through her even as the bond that held them fast ignited and sent fire to his loins as well.

  He cradled her in one arm and stripped back the rough sheet and blanket on the narrow bed, then placed her upon it as if she were a treasure made of porcelain, then began to slowly undress.

  Her eyes followed each movement as he unlaced his shirt and then drew it over his head causing Alliana to draw in a hiss of breath in appreciation for the perfection that was her man. His stomach was taut with muscles, his skin a pale ivory, and his chest hard as marble. As his fingers began to work at his breeches, Alliana held her breath in anticipation, wanting, watching, wanting, and finally he was divested of those as well as his boots. His cock sprang forth, hard and proud, a drop of precum glistening on the tip, a combination of satin and steel, pulsing with need.

  Mikhal knelt on the bed, and Alliana slid over to the far wall, making room for him, but even so, side-by-side their bodies were pressed together. They wrapped their arms around each other mouths seeking, kissing, hands stroking, feeling the other, touching everywhere, loving, igniting fire, building passion, taking each other to dizzying heights simply by being so near.

  Mikhal turned her on her back and lay beside her, his cock pressed into her hip. Alliana parted her legs, needing to be touched, needing him to satisfy the ache, the terrible ache that would drive her insane if not tended. He ran his hands over every part of her, trailing his fingers lightly then with more pressure until she was writhing under his touch, small pleas and whispered words of love spilling from her lips.

  Finally, when Alliana thought she could take no more, Mikhal lowered his lips to her mark once again and began to suckle her there even as his fingers found her slick womanhood.

  She arched up at his touch, grinding against his hand but he placed his palm on her mound to still her. “Twill be only here sweet, let me. I must be gentle, be careful.”

  “I need you, Mikhal.”

  “One day soon I shall fill you, pigeon, but today is not the day. I promise to bring you bliss though, wife. Trust me.”

  She didn’t say a word, simply spread her legs wider and closed her eyes as he once again began to nibble his mark of claim and stroke her swollen clit. Her juices made his fingers slide easily around and around the sensitive nub and she groaned and panted with need as her body was taken to an even higher peak.

  Round and round, teasing, rubbing, pinching ever so lightly then rubbing it faster between his fingers to the sounds of her mewls, Mikhal teased her and brought her to the edge of release over and over as she bucked beneath his hand.

  He wrapped one arm around her hips, his mouth firmly working the bite mark upon her neck even as his fingers increased their pressure on her nub, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing until she was quivering. Her mouth open in a silent cry, her back arched, her eyes open, her hair wild as she tossed her head from side to side ready, oh so ready, and then he bit down hard, sinking in his fangs even as he rubbed furiously at her clit, making Alliana spiral out of con
trol as her orgasm shook her, fire spreading from her neck to her core and to every inch of nerve in her body.

  She cried out stunned by the enormity of the feelings rushing through her, and Mikhal continued his onslaught until she came for him once again, then finally slowed his hand to make tiny circles around her hypersensitive nubbin as he gently lapped at her neck, closing the wound, bringing her down.

  Alliana shuddered as the last wave of pleasure shot through her, then collapsed like a rag doll in his strong arms. Mikhal moved his one arm up to cradle her shoulders and held her tight around the waist with the other, pulling her up and onto her side so he could feel every inch of her heat along his body.

  To have watched her, to have pleasured her was pure bliss, but it was also pure hell. It had been far too long since he’d made love to her, since he’d hadn’t relief of any kind, and now his manhood stood so hard and ready that is was near painful. Any movement, any sliding against her skin could have sent him over the edge if he decided to let himself lose control, but he didn’t want it that way.

  “Mikhal.” The one word was said with such love, such bliss that it melted Mikhal’s already swelling heart. He had no doubts that she loved him, that she trusted him, not any longer. A woman who held doubts did not give of herself so completely. She didn’t turn to molten fire under a man’s touch if there was hurt and hatred harbored deep inside. No, his wife’s heart had finally melted towards him. She had let her guard down completely and now lay soft and sweet, trusting and loving, and oh so vulnerable in his arms.

  “Yes, sweet?”

  “I love you, Mikhal.”

  “And I you, Alliana. With all of my heart.”

  She sighed, blissfully, nuzzling up against his hard chest, then trailing her fingers over the sculpted planes and down his bare stomach, making him hiss. Alliana drew her hand back; frightened she had done something wrong.

  “No, pigeon. Please don’t stop. Here, let me show you.” He slid back just a bit so there was room between them, then took her small hand in his, unfurling her fingers and guiding them back down along his belly, and lower to the base of his shaft. He turned her hand palm up and his manhood lay upon it, and Alliana could feel his need pulsing, making it jump as she moved her fingers.