Kissed by a Dark Prince (Volume 1)

by Felicity Heaton

  The pain was gone but she could feel it in him. He had taken it from her again and that was why he sported a bruised cheek now. Olivia drew back and swept her fingers over the dark mottled flesh.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” she whispered.

  “No, what he really didn’t need to do was make a mess of my joint.” The man from behind the bar sounded as pissed as hell and she looked back at him and then around the busy club.

  Oh. My. Loren hadn’t frightened away all of the patrons but he had done a rather nice job of rearranging everything within a few metres radius. Broken barstools littered the area around her and there was a huge dent in the black bar top that looked as though Loren had tried to drive the demon’s head through the thick wood, and had succeeded.

  She looked for the demon and found him sitting on the floor a few metres away to her left, leaning against the black wall. The female from the bar tended to the wounds Olivia could see beyond the slashes in his black t-shirt. Olivia looked back at Loren.

  He diverted his gaze to the floor off to his left. It still lacked focus and he didn’t seem completely stable on his feet. Because of the alcohol? He had never tasted it before.

  “Bleu.” Olivia turned a scowl on him. “I thought it was your duty to protect your prince? You knew what would happen if he drank, didn’t you?”

  He looked sheepish and raked his fingers through his overlong black hair, confirming her suspicions.

  She still wasn’t sure what had happened. She looked back at Loren, staring up at his handsome face until he finally brought his eyes back to her.

  “How come the beer made you crazy and not Bleu?” She touched his cheek again and he flinched. She gentled her touch, lightly caressing the bruising.

  “I have had no exposure to it.” He didn’t look as though he was going to elaborate.

  Olivia looked back at Bleu.

  “It is something we have to become accustomed to slowly because of our metabolism. It took me many years to handle more than a sip,” Bleu said and Olivia pieced the rest together for herself.

  Loren had drunk a whole bottle of beer and then the remains of her rather potent cocktail. It explained the unfocused look in his eyes and his lack of balance, and also his earlier outburst.

  “You’re drunk,” she stated it in a voice that left him no room to argue.

  Loren shrugged and smiled, and it hit her straight in the middle of her chest and made her heart miss a beat. The twittering of females drew her attention away from him and she glared daggers at them all. They scurried into the crowd and Olivia grabbed one of the remaining barstools, set it down where Loren had been standing before getting instantly drunk, and manoeuvred him onto it.

  He was still almost as tall as she was.

  “Idiot,” she muttered and smoothed his black hair back. He had a few nasty cuts in his hairline that were bleeding and his lip was split too. Someone needed to take care of him, and her heart said to let it be her.

  Loren parted his knees and she didn’t resist him when he claimed her waist and pulled her closer. His purple gaze turned hooded, focused on her lips. He leaned towards her and she pressed her hands against his chest.

  “No. I’m not kissing you when you’re drunk.” It seemed like a reasonable excuse.

  Sable arched an eyebrow at her. “So you have been kissing him before tonight then?”

  A fierce blush surged up Olivia’s cheeks but she ignored it and continued checking Loren over. The demon seemed to have come off worse than he had, but she couldn’t see the rest of his body. His armour hid it from her eyes and she wasn’t going to ask him to let her see his chest because the irritating women hadn’t gone very far and he was liable to do something stupid when under the influence of the booze. The thought of other women seeing him in all his glory had her squeezing his shoulders and glaring at him.

  His black eyebrows rose and a confused edge entered his eyes. Now he thought she was mad at him. That probably wasn’t a bad thing.

  He tried to kiss her again.

  “Loren!” She pushed him back and Bleu stepped in to help her. He shoved Loren a little too hard, or Loren was more drunk than they had thought, because he ended up falling off the stool and landing in a heap in the broken glass and spilled drinks.

  Bleu growled something dark in their language, picked Loren up and set him back down again. Bleu’s black armour peeled away from his arm and she gasped when he turned his wrist towards him and sank his fangs into it. He released his wrist, his lips and fangs bloodied, and shoved it against Loren’s mouth.

  Loren tried to get away from it but Bleu held firm, forcing it past his lips. When it became clear that Loren was going to refuse to drink, Bleu snarled at him, grabbed the nape of his neck and tipped his head back. Blood dripped down into Loren’s mouth. His eyes shot wide, the edges of his purple irises flashed brightly, and his torso violently arched forwards.

  Bleu snatched his hand back and licked the puncture wounds. “Keep an eye on him.”

  Before she could ask where he was going, Bleu disappeared. Olivia stared at Loren, her heart racing in her chest as he breathed hard, leaning backwards over the bar with his wide eyes locked on the grotty ceiling.

  “Never seen that before,” the man from behind the bar said and scrubbed his dirty blond hair. “Are they, uh, involved?”

  Olivia shook her head.

  He shrugged, leaned forwards and peered down at Loren. His heart still rushed, driving hers wild too. What had Bleu done to him?

  Finally, Loren blinked, sat up and looked around him in a way that left her feeling he wasn’t sure where he was or how he had gotten there. His eyes eventually fell on her, he groaned and buried his head in his hands.

  “Loren, are you okay?” She rubbed his back and he shook his head. “Do you feel sick?”

  He shook his head again and she caught a single muffled word. “Hangover.”

  Bleu reappeared holding a small elegant blue glass vial. Loren lifted his head to look at him, dragging his fingers down his face.

  “You might need this.” Bleu held the vial out to him and Loren slowly reached for it, took it, and popped the leaf-shaped lid off with his thumb.

  He drank it before she could ask what it was and crushed the bottle in his fist.

  “Feeling better?” Bleu said and Loren nodded.

  “What did you do to him?” Olivia couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. She kept rubbing Loren’s back, the pain ebbing and flowing through him calling her to action and her heart wanting to soothe him.

  Bleu shrugged. “Kick started his body into healing. The medicine was for the hangover.”

  Olivia gaped. It made perfect sense. Loren used blood to replenish damaged cells and heal himself. Bleu giving him blood had triggered that instinct in Loren’s body, forcing it into healing mode not just because of the injuries he had picked up in the fight, but because of the damage the alcohol would have done to his organs. Loren’s heightened healing ability had dealt with the effects the alcohol had on him, pushing him from drunk to sober in a matter of seconds.

  Why hadn’t she thought of that?

  Her shoulders sagged.

  Bleu must have noticed it because he offered her a rare smile. “You’ll remember it for next time.”

  Loren groaned.

  “No next time.” He looked around him at the damage and groaned again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Olivia?”

  “Yes?” She moved closer to him in case he was feeling ill after all and needed her. He looked up into her eyes, his striking purple ones filled with a mixture of pain, embarrassment and something else she didn’t want to name.

  “Never let me drink again.”

  She nodded before she realised what she was doing and the way he smiled at her melted her heart. She hadn’t meant it as a sign that she intended to stay with him, but he had taken it as just that.

  “You’re paying for this mess.”

  Loren looked away from her to the blond man
who she was beginning to suspect owned the club. He had a feral look about him and was only a couple of inches shorter than Bleu, but he was broader built, and had rich golden skin and equally golden eyes. Her inner scientist shoved to the surface, demanding she ask him what he was because he definitely wasn’t human.

  “Agreed, Kyter. I will have funds sent to you.” Loren raked his black hair back again and his purple gaze scanned the club. “I do not suppose anyone here will talk to me now about my brother.”

  Kyter laughed. “You’d be surprised. I think they developed a healthy respect for you.”

  Loren didn’t look so sure. “I think they believe me to be my brother.”

  Olivia leaned in and rested her head on Loren’s shoulder, unable to resist her need to comfort him and reassure him that he was nothing like his brother. Their bond wasn’t turning him crazy. It was just making him possessive, and protective, and it was doing the same to her. He stiffened and then relaxed when she ran her right hand down the length of his right arm and settled it over his.

  “They might talk to Bleu,” she offered.

  “Bleu, take Sable and see what you can find out.” Loren sounded far more like his usual self, the commanding edge back in his voice. Bleu pressed his hand to his chest, motioned to Sable, and led her away. Loren looked at the man called Kyter. “I have seen cameras around the Archangel facility. Do you have cameras like those?”

  Kyter’s mouth fell open, he leaned closer, and then whispered, “You’re with Archangel?”

  Olivia nodded.

  Kyter spat out a black curse and rubbed the back of his neck, tossing a wary look around the room.

  “Best you keep that under wraps. We get plenty in here who have a problem with you people,” he said to Olivia and then slapped Loren on the shoulder. “Man, fate really dealt you a bum hand.”

  “Hey,” Olivia barked and Loren growled.

  “That is my female you speak about. Watch your tongue, before I remove it.” Loren’s arm shot around her and he pulled her close to him, his eyes dark and locked on Kyter.

  “Just saying.” Kyter held his hands up and then smiled, flashing short fangs.

  What was he?

  Olivia was itching to know. He couldn’t be a vampire because he was far too tanned, and she didn’t think Loren would associate with vampires anyway.

  He wasn’t a demon, because she hadn’t spotted any small horn protrusions behind his ears when he had tunnelled his fingers through his hair. Some species of demon could control their appearance, making themselves human to the untrained eye, but others couldn’t completely conceal their small horns and their fangs and their nails permanently resembled short dark claws.

  She had read that young demons found it impossible to hide their horns as it was an ability that came with age when they matured. Then there was the older generation demons. They didn’t hide their horns on principle. They were proud of them and found it shameful to conceal them in order to blend in with mortals.

  Kyter didn’t have dark claws either.

  He was something else.

  A fae?

  Archangel had labelled everything without horns and a tendency to shift into a truly demonic appearance that included wings, and breathing fire in some varieties of demon, as fae. Sirens were in that genus, so were elves. There were around fifty other creatures in it too, including a large number of shape-shifter breeds.

  “Why is your female staring at me?” Kyter said and she grimaced. Was he stupid or what?

  Loren’s top lip curled back off his fangs and he aimed a growl at her. Olivia thanked Kyter with a glare that promised he would be getting a visit from a hunter if he kept annoying Loren.

  “I was wondering what you were so I knew how to dissect you.” She smiled sweetly at him.

  “You hunters and your big talk.” Kyter grinned at her and picked at his nails.

  “I’m not a hunter,” Olivia said, her own smile wicked as his fell away and he looked at her. “I’m one of the doctors... I’m sure you’ve heard the stories. The ones the hunters hand your kind over to.”

  He paled and looked to Loren for confirmation. Loren nodded and his arm around her waist tightened, drawing her closer. He was enjoying watching Kyter dream up horrible images in his head and she had to admit that she was too.

  “I have camera footage,” Kyter rushed out. “In the back... we record feeds from the ten cameras situated around the club. If your guy has been in here in the past week, we will have him on camera.”

  Bargaining. A very wise fae.

  Loren nodded regally. “Show us to this footage.”

  “This way.” Kyter jerked his chin towards the other end of the black bar top and loped away, his gait that of a predator. A rather sensual predator. The man moved as though he was on the prowl, drawing all eyes to him, but he didn’t seem to notice any of the women who stared as he passed.

  “What is he?” Olivia whispered it in case he was a species with heightened hearing.

  Loren drew her even closer, pressing her against his side. “Jaguar.”

  She looked back at Kyter as he paused at the end of the bar, waiting for them. Jaguar shifter. She would kill to study him. Loren chuckled and her gaze whipped back to him.

  “You have that look again.” He stroked her cheek and the warmth in his eyes combined with his light caress to heat her right down to her soul. “I like that look.”

  “What look?”

  He smiled and she melted from her feet up to her knees, her legs turning to jelly. Damn him for being irresistible. She kept trying to maintain and even create some distance between them, and he kept undoing all her hard work with just a smile or a stolen glance, or a sultry stare that scorched her and made her ache to kiss and touch him again.

  “The one that I find reassuring. You look at Kyter as if he was a science experiment, not a potential lover.”

  She nudged Loren’s shoulder. “I looked at you like that once. Things can change.”

  He shook his head, his smile holding. “No, my sweet ki’ara. You never looked at me like that. You have always looked at me with desire in your eyes.”

  She blushed and tried to look away but he wouldn’t let her. He held her steady, forcing her to look into his eyes, and she felt she couldn’t hide anything from him. His unwavering gaze stripped the layers of her defences away, her guard crumbling under the intense heat of it, and she couldn’t do anything to stop it from happening.

  He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Sweet Olivia... your heart tells me through our bond what you refuse to voice... it speaks of your emotions... your desire when I kissed you earlier... your jealousy when you thought I looked upon those females with lustful eyes... your concern when I was drunk and injured... your relief as I say these words and you realise that I desire no one but you. I know your feelings even if you do not.”

  She covered his mouth with her free hand. He caught her wrist, removed her hand from his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

  “You need not fear. They are not my feelings to voice. I will wait as patiently as I can for you to say what is in your heart, Olivia. I will not rush you, even when I desire to hear you tell me that I am your mate. I am not a fool.” He pressed another kiss to her hand and then held it to his face, leaning into it and closing his eyes. “I want us to be together, but there are things in your heart you must come to terms with before that can happen. I understand, and all I can do is hope that somehow you will come to see that I am not like that man who hurt you and I would never betray you.”

  Olivia hoped for that too.

  She wasn’t sure yet whether she wanted to complete the bond with Loren, but she did want to be with him. She wished things could be normal between them, a human relationship, without a deadline looming over it. She wanted things to progress at a natural speed, not sweep her along like a flash flood. It made her panic whenever she thought about it.

  The incomplete bond weakened Loren and there was no knowing when Vail would at
tack him, or her, and no telling whether Loren would survive such an attack. Vail was stronger, his bond to his female complete, and that female was a dark witch. What if they both attacked Loren?

  Icy claws squeezed her heart, threatening to pierce it.

  Loren wouldn’t stand a chance. He might die because she had hesitated, too afraid of the past repeating to embrace a future with him. She panicked now as she stood looking down into Loren’s beautiful eyes and knew he had sensed it in her when he rose to his feet.

  She expected him to draw her into his embrace and hold her, but he pressed a kiss to her brow and released her instead.

  “Let us speak with Kyter.” He walked away from her and she ached, her legs weak again, fear and hurt combining to press down on her as she watched the distance growing between her and Loren.

  He could only discern her feelings. He couldn’t decipher them. He thought she was going to reject him again and was distancing himself before it could happen, not giving her a chance to voice things he believed would be hurtful.

  “You look like someone just sucker-punched you.” Sable came up behind her and nudged her left shoulder, and then looked beyond her to Loren. “Ah... what did he do now?”

  “Nothing.” Olivia dragged her gaze away from Loren as he talked with Kyter.

  “So why the long face?” Sable cocked her head to one side and frowned at her. “Don’t tell me you’re still going in circles because of what happened before?”

  Olivia jerked her chin up. “It’s not that... it’s... it’s... that.”

  Her shoulders sagged and she flagged the bartender. If she was going to have a dumb heart to heart with Sable, she at least wanted another cocktail to dull the pain.

  The female who had been tending to the demon came over to her. “Nice catch you have there. What’ll it be?”

  Olivia’s lips compressed into a hard line and she slammed her palms down on the bar top, making the brunette jump. “I want one of those drinks the nice jaguar made me and your eyes off my male.”

  She couldn’t believe she had just said that. She had never threatened a woman over a man in her past and she had done it several times tonight. She felt possessive, territorial. The bartender was right. Loren was a good catch. The best. He was gorgeous, powerful, protective, and he really cared about her. He had nursed her injuries, taking the pain into himself so she didn’t have to suffer it.