“What is this?” she asked in a whisper, feeling as if she interrupted a sacred rite.
He didn’t answer but led her between Dmitri and Gavril to the center of the circle where a silver goblet stood on the ground. He lifted it and wrapped both her hands to cradle it.
“Hold this. You’ll know what to do when the time comes.”
Stepping back, he reached his arms over his shoulders to his back and removed his shirt in a swift move. Dropping it at his feet, he marched to the one open space next to his brother.
“Bloodguard, ready,” he commanded in a clear, loud voice.
In unison, they knelt, left knee then right. Including Mikhail.
Mina tried not to react, but it was impossible. The sight of a circle of forty muscular, shirtless warrior vampires on their knees around her under the moonlight was enough to make a weaker woman swoon. She did her best to remain poised, her breath puffs of white air in the cold.
Mikhail continued in his commanding tenor. “This pledge of devotion and fealty is given by free hands and free hearts.” He held her gaze with fiery intensity. “This rite is our seal and vow to you, Vilhelmina Dragomir.”
Then they spoke as one.
“We are the Bloodguard. Noble by birth, brothers by choice. We smite the evil ones. We avenge the innocents. We right all wrongs. We are the cold blade in the dark night. We give our swords, our bodies, our strength, and our blood. We bleed as one. We die as one.”
The chorus of voices echoed in the silent grove as Dmitri unsheathed his dagger and sliced open the fleshy part of his palm.
“For Vilhelmina.” He stretched out his arm, blood dripping onto the snow-dusted ground.
Mina understood and moved swiftly to him, catching droplets of his blood in the cup. He then swiped his palm across his chest, over his heart, smearing a line of crimson.
“Vilhelmina,” said Gregoravich at Dmitri’s left, slicing open his palm in the same way.
Again, she collected the blood sacrifice. A few drops fell into the goblet, then he marked his bloody palm over his heart.
“Vilhelmina.” Aleksei was next. Then Gavril.
Mina went from one warrior to the next, meeting each one’s gaze, hoping they recognized how much their pledge meant to her. She circled around till she was finally left standing in front of Mikhail.
With a swift slice of his dagger, he raised his hand, blood dripping in a steady line. “Vilhelmina,” he annunciated clearly with his dark, melodic voice. The one she recognized that awoke her from the bloodless sleep. The voice that called to her helpless heart, beating frantically.
She collected his offering, watching in fascination as he crossed his heart, marking himself with his own blood. Then all was silent as they remained on their knees. Watching her. Waiting.
She knew what was expected of her but not what words were usually said after such a sacrificial rite. She could only say what she felt down to her bones once she’d taken her place at the center of the circle once more.
“I accept your pledge.”
She raised the goblet in salute, moonlight glinting off the silver, her voice trembling with emotion. With one hand, she eased her left sleeve off her shoulder, exposing the skin over her heart.
“I will honor and cherish it.”
Dipping two fingers into the goblet, she smeared their mixed blood across her own heart, turning in a circle as she did so that they all could see the visible sign of her own vow to them.
“I give you my loyalty as you give me yours.”
Holding the goblet up to the sky, she scanned the perimeter, her eyes landing on Mikhail, then tipped it back and drank the blood of the men who’d just devoted their lives to her safety.
For a human, this might be hard to stomach, but for her, it was like drinking the nectar of the gods, the essence and strength of every man energizing her body. She accepted them not just as her personal guard, but as her devoted knights for the duration of her life and their own.
When the chalice was empty, a drop trailing from the corner of her mouth, she held the goblet between both hands and watched as they quietly lifted to their feet one by one and disappeared into Silvane Forest. Until finally only Mikhail was left, standing where he’d knelt, looking at her with his otherworldly eyes, thinking deeply of she knew not what.
Mina trembled from the ritual, the power of it, the devotion of it. “Why?” she asked, swiping away the blood at her mouth with the back of her hand.
He remained statue still, carved in perfect lines by moonlight and shadow. His bare chest hardly rose with his shallow intake of breath while Mina felt as if she’d run a lap around the world.
“What do you mean?” he asked, still not moving.
She walked toward him. “Why did they do that?” Her voice quivered. “Because you asked them to?”
“No,” he answered calmly, though the flare of his eyes said he was anything but. “The Bloodguard is an order of brothers. Not a military dictatorship.”
She finally reached him, her body thrumming with the energy of their blood and the utter beauty of their pledge. Fire pumped hard through her veins while the chill of the winter night cooled her skin. Once more, she felt so magnificently alive. She wanted to thank Mikhail, but words felt insufficient for such an act of devotion.
His mouth ticked up on one side as if he knew her thoughts. “It’s time to get you indoors.” He took her hand and roughly led her back through the dark woods.
Laboring to keep up with his swift stride, for her limbs still shook from the magical ceremony in the clearing, she said, “You must think me in grave danger to need the allegiance of the entire Bloodguard.”
“That’s not the entire Bloodguard, if you must know. There are more of us.”
“There are?”
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“They are needed elsewhere.”
She sighed, shaking her head at his vague response, then tripped on a fallen branch. He spun and scooped her in his arms, without a word, then sped vampire-swift to her cabin.
He nudged the door open and set her on her feet, but she kept her hands locked at his neck.
He glided his fingers up her arms, gripped her wrists and tugged gently, but she held fast, gazing up at the strong lines of his grim countenance. The devotion of the Bloodguard brought the cutting realization that she didn’t have his devotion. Still, she couldn’t ask him for more. She wasn’t a selfish creature, but her vampire instincts still pushed her to kiss him, to take him, to keep him for her own. The contradiction of need and doing the honorable thing twisted her heart.
Jerking her hands from his neck, she spun and walked away, wrapping her arms around herself. Standing before the fire, she stared at the dying embers, the orange-gold coals bringing her no warmth at all.
“What is wrong?” he finally asked.
She didn’t want to tell him. But she also did. How did this man twist her into such a maelstrom of stormy emotions? She’d always been quiet and composed, even sage-like with others. Her empathic gifts had helped her steady the keel, keep the balance of the world around her. But not since Captain Mikhail had stepped into her life.
Glancing sideways, she once more noted his flushed complexion at the jawline, his eyes glittering more brightly, his pallor less stark. All signs of a good feeding. She’d ignored it before, but the thought of him feeding, being with another woman ripped her insides out.
“You’ve fed well recently.”
“A vampire must feed.”
“Earlier today, you told me you heard rumors of Dominik setting a ransom on my return. Did you overhear that in Hiddleston?” Her heart pounded violently in her chest, not wanting the answer but needing it all the same. “Where you fed on a bleeder?”
His expression darkened, not in anger, but in something close to guilt. “Yes.”
She turned her gaze back to the fire, not wanting him to see
the hurt in her eyes. Swallowing the lump swelling in her throat, she unbuckled the belt and dagger he’d given her and tossed it to the floor. The door closed.
“You know I must feed,” he said gingerly, stepping farther into the room.
“Yes. Of course.” She lifted the poker and stabbed at the embers, doing little more than causing sparks to spit up in the air. “You’re a man with other needs as well, so…” She shrugged and let that thought die before it could cross her lips, putting the poker back in its place against the stone mantel.
He stalked closer with heavy steps. Facing him, she forced her gaze to meet his, taking two steps back.
“Yes,” he grated. “I do have needs. But I didn’t…it’s not what you’re thinking.”
Angry heat flared up her neck and into her cheeks. The beast within her breast demanded voice, and she couldn’t stop herself. “Did she taste good?”
“Stop it.” With long, steady strides, he closed the small space between them.
Crossing her arms in defense, she matched his steps in reverse till the backs of her thighs hit the bed. “Did you feed before or after you…bedded her?”
He gripped her around the upper arms, pressing his chest to hers, though her crossed arms formed a barrier. “I didn’t fuck her,” he grated with dark intensity.
“But you wanted to.”
“No.” He tilted his head lower till his lips hovered in aching closeness to her own. “I wanted to fuck you.” His voice shook with passion. “I still do.”
Her body trembled once more with the desperate need of this man, her eyes sliding closed on the blissful thought of him being inside her.
He was honorable and loyal and true, eager to follow the noble path. But he was also strong and passionate and sensual. Though he may not know it, his aggressive demeanor and tantalizing strength were a beacon to the woman newly awakened within her bosom. He held it all so in control. The she-beast inside wanted it unleashed…on her.
“You’re killing me slowly, Mikhail,” she whispered on a trembling breath, leaning closer, her bottom lip brushing his. “I won’t ask you to betray your brotherhood. I couldn’t dare. Not after tonight. After what you all did for me.” Her voice cracked, but she held it together, sucking in a deep inhale as she pressed her palms over her abdomen. “But it hurts, Mikhail.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “It hurts so much.”
He manacled his large hands around her arms. “Don’t,” he commanded.
She knew he meant the tears, the angles of his face growing sharper by the dying firelight.
“I can’t help it.” As if her admission opened the dam, tears fell freely.
“Goddammit. I can’t, either,” he breathed on a harsh breath before he tossed her on her back diagonally on the bed. He was on his knees, straddling her waist, whipping off his belt with a snap of leather and a clink of buckle.
Startled by the explosion of action, she sensed the sex-laced tension whipping from the man on top of her. “What are—”
He grabbed her wrists and wrapped them with the belt twice, slid her body up, and buckled the belt around the wooden bedpost.
“Mikhail—”
His lips were on hers. Not a sweet, questing kiss. But one of control and dominance. Before she even felt her bodice loosen, it was unlaced and opened, then Mikhail’s large hand mounded her breast and squeezed. She arched into his touch and moaned, long and loud. He broke the kiss, staring down with the wildness of a frantic beast, caged too long with the need to dominate his prey.
“The pain in your eyes tears me to the heart.” His voice was gravel-rough. “I’m going to take care of you.” He murmured the dark promise against her lips, trailing his tongue along her lower lip.
“Like before?” she asked on a relieved sigh.
“Better than before.”
He pinched her nipple through the thin fabric of her gown and chemise. She whimpered and nodded. “Yes.”
He unlaced the drawstring between her breasts and scooped the blouse down to expose her breasts, the bottom of the bodice jutting them up. The cool air heightened her sensitivity, her nipples budding under his hungry gaze. Dipping his head low but holding her gaze, he licked a path around one nipple before sliding down the slope of her breast and across her sternum to the other.
“Is this what you want?” he ground out.
She nodded and bit her lip to keep from moaning too loudly.
“Answer me. I want to hear you say it.”
His hand was under her skirts, hiking them higher, his calloused fingers skimming up the inside of her thigh.
“You want my lips on your skin?” he asked in an authoritative tone, sounding more like a command than a question.
She nodded with a breathy, “Yes.”
His long fingers found the apex between her legs and teased her swollen bud. “Fuck. You’re soaked for me.” He lowered his mouth to her nipple again, covering it and sucking hard before commanding, “Open your legs wider.”
She did, then rocked her hips as he slicked his fingers into her folds. As she pulled her arms, his leather belt strained and creaked.
“No,” he said, gazing up with a dark smile. “You’ll keep your hands to yourself.”
She closed her eyes and thrust her hips up, aching for more.
“You want my fingers inside you?” He teased around her entrance, dragging a choking sound from her throat.
Her canines were long and sharp, pushing her mouth open, so every little sensual sound crept from her throat and filled the room with her desperate need.
“Tell me, Mina, and I’ll give it to you.”
“Yes,” she said more violently than she meant to.
He lowered his head and nicked the mound of her breast with a fang, releasing a drop of his elixir into her body. It felt just like the man who owned it, burning through her like an avalanche of potent aggression and power. Just one drop sent her body shuddering on a wave of ecstasy. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have his long fangs embedded in her throat, releasing the full power of the man in his elixir.
“Oh, God,” she cried as he teased and circled her sex, slicking around and around the engorged bud.
“You’ll have to speak clearly, Mina.”
“Yes, Mikhail. Put your fingers inside me.”
Closing his mouth over a taut nipple, he pushed one long finger inside, her tight flesh yielding to his intrusion. Sweet bliss. She thrust up and clamped her muscles around his finger. He lifted over her and stared down.
“Bloody fucking hell.” He pulled out.
“No,” she protested. “Please, Mikhail. Please don’t stop.”
“Easy.”
He glided two fingers in, pumping slowly, letting her body welcome the foreign intrusion. Without removing his fingers, he leveraged down her body, flipping up her skirts. She was bare to him, her knees bent, her hips making tiny thrusts as he pumped inside her. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to watch him stare at her so intimately.
“No, Mina. Look at me.”
She had to obey. When she did, she found he’d laid between her legs, holding his body up on one forearm, his face just above her mound.
“I want you to watch me give you pleasure.”
It wasn’t a request. She nodded. Then he lowered his head and opened his hot, wet mouth on the bud of her sex, pumping his fingers in a long, slow glide. She fisted her hands, pulling the belt taut, pressing her pelvis toward his wicked, wicked mouth.
“Please,” she begged.
He flicked down her center with his tongue and thrust his fingers deeper, harder, faster. She ground her sex against his hot mouth and lapping tongue, her own violent need stoking her higher. His other hand slid under her ass, gripping one cheek, his thumb spreading her wider for his feast.
He lifted his head, still stroking his long fingers, staring at her with palpable heat and longing.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
Her own sensuality drove her now, as she t
hrust her hips up against the downward stroke of his fingers. Her she-beast wanted free. Jerking one hand with a surge of strength, she pulled it loose, the other cinched tight in the belt loop. His gaze flicked up to her as she mounded her breast and pinched the taut nipple with thumb and forefinger. The answering growl from Mikhail pebbled her skin on the erotic sound.
He bent his head again to his wicked work, licking with new vigor.
“Mikhail,” she whispered, bucking harder against his mouth.
He clenched his fingers around her ass and pumped his fingers deeper, harder. Her vampire guiding her now, she reached down with her free hand and clenched a fist into his hair, holding him in place as she stroked herself up against his hot mouth.
“Yes,” she breathed, her voice unusually low and dark, her keening cries quickening, louder and closer together.
“Come for me, Mina,” he whispered before clamping his lips over her clit and growling, the vibration shooting her over the edge.
“Mikhail!” she screamed.
Waves of pleasure rippled around his thrusting fingers. She let out little moans of ecstasy with each throbbing pulse, even as he licked her sensitive bud while she came down from her fevered release.
White spots appeared in her periphery. She’d nearly fallen unconscious at the violent pleasure tearing through her. He slipped his fingers out slowly, and she whimpered in protest. He placed a sweeping kiss on her inner thigh, brushing his stubbled jaw in a tender caress.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmured almost to himself. Then he was over her, pressing her body into the mattress with his own. His large, stiff bulge pushed against her hip.
She’d never taken her fist from his hair. Holding his weight on a forearm, he placed his other hand on top of hers in his hair, lacing his fingers between hers.
“Better?” he asked, arching a brow.
A giddy joy rose up inside. “Much.” She let it bubble up into laughter before she squirmed, her hip bone pressing on his erection.
His eyes widened, his gaze falling to her lips once again. He lowered his mouth to hers. Like the brush of wispy clouds, he skated in light, torturous touches. So light, he might’ve been brushing her lips with a feather.
The Emerald Lily Page 13