Blood Oath: What Rough Beast

by Kari Gregg

  She’d shut him out of her mind as much as she could, from her heart.

  Though he’d begged her to give him a chance, she’d closed herself off.

  She’d given him nothing.

  Except this.

  Her body.

  Her desire.

  And it terrified him.

  Though she trembled, more afraid than she’d ever been in her life, she opened her mind to him. Linked. She shared his bone-melting fear, the hopeless ferocity of his yearning. His dread.

  She curled her knee around his to lock it in place, away from the bloody gashes that had been torn into his ass and thighs. She tried to smile, but her lips quivered. “Trust me.”

  He sucked in a harsh breath at the smooth glide of her presence into his mind, his thoughts, the turbulent scatter of his emotions.

  He eyes snapped shut.

  He flinched.

  When she reached up to cradle the hard line of his jaw, he shuddered. “It’s all right, Rick.”

  Chest heaving with the force of his need, he shook his head. “No, it’s not okay. You’re not supposed to—”

  “Be inside your head?” She gave his jaw a playful nudge. “That’s my line.”

  He laughed, but when he finally opened his eyes to look at her, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I tried to tell you.” He swallowed convulsively. “After we blood-mated the first time.”

  “I wouldn’t link with you then.” She traced the line of his calf with her toe, smiled when he shivered in reflexive pleasure. “I will now.” She was delighted more by his hot glance flaring back to greet hers. “Does it usually happen like this?”

  “I don’t care anymore.” His head dipped to graze his lips over hers. “I’m tired of being afraid. I just want to be with you. Let me love you, Kate.”

  Fierce longing exploded inside her when she felt his cock probe her slick, hot core.

  She sighed his name.

  His mouth covered hers, his tongue slipping past her lips to dance with hers. “Leave me to die when it’s done. I don’t care. As long as you fuck me now.”

  Pinned down by his hands, his body, her mind totally open to him, Kate had never felt so defenseless and exposed.

  Or so gloriously alive.

  Impossible to keep her mind closed to him. Impossible not to drown in the tumultuous sensations and emotions that rocked him. Urgent passion saturated his every thought. His awesome, crushing joy when his dick stretched her cunt. His wild delight at her trembling when he slowly, ever so slowly filled her. His bone-melting gratification when his hips met hers and he slid home.

  She shared every sensation with him, each pounding beat of his heart. They were cousin to her own. The delicious riot of lust that rocked her mirrored his. The identical stunned satisfaction that flooded her to be his, finally his, and his wonder to belong, totally, to her as well. The shivery feel of his cock pushing inside her cunt. Hard. Claiming.

  Overwhelming.

  To them both.

  She wanted to be as close to Garrick as his next breath.

  His next heartbeat.

  She wanted him so far under her skin that he’d never, ever find his way back out.

  Her passion fed his, their need for each other climbing higher and higher.

  His hips stilled, his dick solidly rooted inside her. He stared down with eyes that glittered. “I belong to you,” he said, chest rising and falling in labored pants. “Our linked minds, bodies, and our blood are my marriage troth to you.”

  “Trust me.” She reared up to brush her mouth over his. “Just this once, Rick. Please.”

  When she nudged his jaw aside, he moaned. “I love you,” he said when her teeth sank into him.

  Hot, coppery blood filled her mouth in a gluttonous flood that sent her senses flying. He trembled with violent pleasure as he eased his dick out of her. He pushed home, and linked to him, she shared his amazed pleasure as he pierced her through.

  “God, how I love you,” he said, losing himself in the awesome miracle they created together.

  She fed from him, welcomed his driving, maddening thrusts with equal ferocity, identical wonder.

  He loved her.

  With his mind, his body, his heart.

  All of him.

  When he stiffened above her, ecstasy sweeping over him, the staggering pleasure took her as wholly and completely as it had stolen over him. She ripped her hands free of his imprisoning grasp to encircle his neck. She stroked his hair while he quivered and shook, kissed the punctures she’d made at his throat as his dick spurted and spilled into her. Splashing his cum, his scent deep inside her.

  And in that moment, tenderness destroyed her. His, hers, who could say?

  The scent of his spent sex triggered her orgasm. Her body clenched. Her breath locked in her chest. He bucked his hips, shoving his still-pulsing cock deeper, and her world disintegrated, only to refocus on the hard weight of his body blanketing hers.

  Panting, his body still quaking at the intensity of his release, Garrick shifted his head to stare at her.

  Kate’s warm gaze met and welcomed the stunned awe that sparkled in his. “Your heart is safe with me, Rick. You are completely safe with me.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Much to Kate’s amusement, Garrick rejoined Luc in the den after the loving was done. Sated, she couldn’t move a muscle. Didn’t want to. But she’d known he couldn’t stay away, not from his war. Not for long. No matter what it cost him. So she’d laughed like a loon when Garrick had crawled from their bed. Groaning wretched exhaustion, he limped around their bedroom to gather his clothes.

  “I have to,” he said when he’d pulled jeans over his hips and wincing, tucked his spent cock inside. “Luc’s right. The masters are close. Failing to heed that danger, not preparing for it, would be inexcusable.” He brushed a kiss across the top of her head. “Rest. I’ll be back soon.”

  She’d returned his smile, but sleep was out of the question. So she’d lit fragrant candles in the master bath and filled the tub, soaked the ache from her gloriously overtaxed body.

  At least, she’d planned to.

  “We have company.” Garrick’s mind whispered to her short moments after she’d slid into the deliciously steaming bubbles. “Only Luc and Peter for now, but others are on the way. I’m afraid our time together, just you and I, may be over.”

  “Not if you don’t want it to be.” Kate climbed from the tub, lips pursing to an annoyed line as she reached for a towel. “Whoever it is, kick them out. Sic Peter on them. I don’t care what you do, just get rid of them.”

  “There are matters beyond the realm of my control, love.” His warm chuckle rolled through her mind. “Though I am flattered you believe me so powerful.”

  She stumbled back to their rooms and yanked the closet door wide to snatch one of his shirts.

  “No, something pretty. You meet the prince of the rebel council tonight.”

  She glared at the shirt. “I don’t care who he is. He’s interrupting. You said we’d have another week. At least another week.”

  “Aidan would not intrude unnecessarily. I know you are disappointed. As am I. I wanted nothing more than to spend the next week fucking you, but our people have need of us.”

  “Of you, maybe.” She put the dress shirt back on its hanger and reached into her side of the closet. “I’m just an ornament.”

  “Without you, there is no me, and soon, you will develop powers of your own that far surpass mine.”

  “Blah, blah, blah.”

  His mental chuckle made her smile. “We are in the den.”

  “Stupid vampires,” she muttered under her breath, choosing, then discarding sundresses, flirty skirts and finally settling on a gauzy dress of the palest gold. “Prince of the rebel council,” she said, her tone scathing, as she tugged the scrap of a dress over her head. The fabric draped sparingly from her neck to the vague shadow of cleavage left by her unbound tits, gathered at her waist, and flared at her hips.
r />   Weeks into their mating, Kate still hadn’t seen a bra or a scrap of underwear, so she did without both. Probably would’ve ruined the lines of the dress, anyway. Someday, she’d have to remedy that sorry situation, insist on comfortable, casual clothes. Just the idea of sturdy denim made her wince, but she couldn’t run around like a refugee from a lingerie catalog forever.

  “Kate?”

  She drew her hair into a long ponytail at the base of her neck. “Whoever bought my wardrobe should be shot.”

  “You’re beautiful, as you well know.”

  She added small gold hoops to her ears. “That’s the problem. In this dress, everybody knows.”

  “Aidan mated to Isabel and sees no other. Come to me, love. I need you.”

  Rolling her eyes, she left Garrick’s rooms and stalked to the den.

  “Headhunters again,” an unfamiliar voice drawled from across the room. Kate’s step faltered. She halted in the door, her blood freezing in her veins. She examined the figure standing at the stone hearth.

  The man was tall, his hair fair, short, and expertly styled to emphasize honeyed highlights.

  Highlights?

  A vampyr with highlights?

  Wait.

  A vampyr with a stylist?

  The stranger braced his hand against the mantle to lean, but muscles coiled beneath his tailored suit as though prepared to leap to the attack. No polished urbanite, no metrosexual was he. The stranger was like a sleek cougar encased in Armani.

  And his dark, dark eyes focused immediately on her. “This must be Kate. Congratulations. Though long from battle, Garrick is our best and strongest warrior. He will serve you well.”

  “Don’t be an ass, Aidan,” Garrick said from the chair by the fire. “You’re giving Kate a lousy first impression of you and the council both.”

  “I interrupted your mating. A lousy first impression is unavoidable, but you knew we wouldn’t stay away.”

  “Not long enough.”

  Luc scowled at them both. “Council is aware of the circumstances of Kate’s transition, the rapidity in which Garrick took her to mate…”

  Kate shifted on her feet as her glance shot between the arguing men on the other side of the den. Garrick had pushed his chair back from the fire, into the shadows of the corner and far from Luc, but the stranger, the prince, was too close. Within arm’s reach, if Kate were to go to Garrick as she wanted.

  Not that she feared Aidan.

  Garrick would never let him hurt her. Never.

  She just didn’t want to be anywhere near the other vampyr. She didn’t want to be in the same room and certainly not within reach. Even the thought nauseated her.

  All she needed was Garrick, but that damned vampyr was too close. Need and frustration warred inside her while they argued, incessantly argued. It made her quiver and shake, feet planted in the doorway as though stuck in cement.

  “It’s okay.” She whipped her head around. Peter’s lips bowed to a gentle smile. “He won’t touch you.”

  Aidan stiffened, frowned. “I’d never lay a finger on any woman except Isabel. What on earth have you been telling her?”

  Garrick ignored all of them, his attention instead focusing on her. His lips curved. His arms opened wide. “Kate.”

  Peter guided her, keeping his body between her and Aidan as she crossed the room and settled, with a sigh of relief, in Garrick’s welcoming embrace. She curled into his chest, exactly as she’d wanted. If she nestled her cheek into his shirt, her entire world became his seductive scent and the comforting beat of his heart.

  “A were protecting one of our women. From me, of all people. Truly, Garrick, you go too far.”

  He rubbed her back, sending shivers of pleasure up her spine. “Kate has more reason to trust Peter than any of our kind.”

  “You hunger, love. Drink.”

  “But he’s a were!”

  Peter growled low in his throat.

  Kate sniffed at the crook of his neck, because he was right. “I can wait.”

  “I apologize, Peter. You seem a nice enough fellow, but… They’re animals. They don’t even—”

  “I’m painfully aware of your position, Aidan, as you are of mine. Debating it now would be pointless and would also offend my friend,” he said, nodding to Peter, “not to mention distress Kate.”

  “I can’t wait, love. We can’t. Feed from me.”

  “In front of Peter, maybe, but…”

  “Again, my apologies.” Aidan bowed to Peter.

  “The council suspects our mating. So soon after your transition, the estate patrolled by weres, and God knows I was perilously close to turning, all valid reasons for the rebellion to be wary. The intimacy of the feeding will convince Aidan and the council far faster than words that you remain with me because you wish to be.”

  “They’d take me away.” Kate focused on him, her pulse skyrocketing with renewed anxiety. “He’s here to take me from you.”

  Garrick breathed her name. “Aidan came to assess the situation, to act only if he saw evidence you were being held against your will.”

  She bit her lip. Hard. “You won’t let him.”

  “Never,” he said, blue eyes steady on hers.

  “Promise me. I couldn’t stand it if—”

  “Kate.” His fingers rose to catch her chin. “When are you finally going to trust me?”

  She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “Don’t.”

  “Feed, love. Your hunger beats at me.” When he led her mouth to the pulse throbbing at his throat, her tongue tasted his skin. Her nostrils flared at the scent of his blood rushing just underneath, and she listened to the pulsing of his veins. Every night, it was the same, the terrible hunger only Garrick could appease. Kate welcomed it now, the need, recognized her lust for him as both lover and provider as yet another of the many ties that bound them together. She cherished her intimacy with him and wanted, always, more of him.

  She sank her teeth deep.

  He sucked in a harsh breath, not at the brutality of the bite, for Kate had learned over the past weeks what pleased him, but because she’d learned those lessons perhaps too well.

  Kate’s head swam as his strength flooded her, her fingers curling around the tender skin of his neck as she drank. He wrapped his arm around her, leaning back into the shadows and angling his body to give them what little privacy he could. “Weres are different than vampyr, Aidan, but different does not equate to barbaric or wrong.”

  “Do not forget our behaviors and traditions can be uncivilized, too,” Luc said.

  “Yes.” Aidan swallowed. “Well.” He shook his head. “Vampyr can hardly be held responsible for sins committed by the dark masters when we fight against—”

  “What of the sins of the rebels themselves?” Peter asked. “Weres fight only to protect our hunting grounds, our pack. Vampyr fight one another for mates. Which says nothing of the way you treat your women.”

  Luc glared. “Our women are our most cherished treasures.”

  Peter snorted. “You don’t marry your women. You abduct them.”

  Aidan glared.

  “He’s right,” Garrick said, and Kate laughed against his neck.

  “And how do you raise your young? Not at all. Women are hunted by masters and rebels alike, until she’s mated—as a child! And your men are left to be tortured and bled dry in prisons you euphemistically call stables.” Peter’s lip curled to a sneer. “I’ve killed members of my pack for a lot less.”

  A vein throbbed at Aidan’s temple. “We choose a mate for love rather than strength and physical stamina.”

  “Your hormones choose your mates. Love comes later. Much later.”

  “Garrick loves me.” She lifted a finger to trace his full lips, her heart leaping at the sparkle in his blue eyes.

  “But you don’t love him.”

  Her smile faltered.

  “No, she doesn’t. Not yet.” Garrick kissed her fingers, his warm stare never leavin
g hers. “It’s all right, love.” He threaded his fingers through hers, brought her hand to his jaw to cradle her palm there, comforting her as well as himself. “Your vampyr has chosen. You want me, need me. You trust me with your life and your body. It’s enough.”

  “Who’s to say I don’t love my mate? I could love Elise. I’m capable of it.” Then Peter cocked his head, considering. “She’s loyal, obedient. A proven breeder.”

  Aidan snickered. “You just described Isabel’s favorite mastiff.”

  “I am were,” Peter growled, “not your mate’s pet dog.”

  Kate ignored them, her attention, her heartache focused on Garrick. “No, it’s not enough.”

  “It is. For now.” He skimmed a kiss across her mouth and turned to address the two men. “Stop it. Both of you. Your bickering upsets Kate.”

  “This vampyr’s determination to take her from us, from her home, upsets Kate.”

  “We won’t take her from Garrick. She’s obviously happy mated to him, but the rebellion cannot risk her with your kind. She must be protected.”

  Kate breathed his name, heart twisting in her chest.

  “Aidan, why must you always pester Garrick’s poor weres?”

  A tall blonde stood at the door, glaring grim reproach at Aidan before tipping her head in greeting. “I apologize for my mate’s behavior, Peter. His manners are deplorable.”

  Aidan bristled, body tensing as he raced to the door to aggressively shield her body with his. “You were to stay at the hotel.” He pivoted and planted his feet wide, his stance alert and defensive.

  Peter smirked. “And he claims I’m barbaric.”

  Aidan flashed sharp white teeth. “Get out.”

  “Stop it, you great idiot. Peter likes me. He won’t mistake me for his lunch. Garrick? Help?”

  Kate swallowed the lump in her throat, eyes burning as she stroked and petted him. “I care for you. You know that I do.”

  “Peter is right. Barbaric or not, it’s the way of our people. You’ll love me eventually, love me completely. Until then, I’ve love enough for us both.”