by M. L. Guida
“Let me answer your second question first. I'm Eric Wyvern, Prince of the Dragon Demons and you're my guest.” He bowed to her and swept his hand across the room. “I brought you to my home, Basilisk Castle, located in the Underworld, which is a parallel universe to your world.”
Eyes wide and face pale, she scooted up on the bed. Her lower lip trembled. “What? I'm in hell?”
“No, I just told you that you're in a parallel universe. I know you’re confused Cassandra., Please listen.” He didn't want to terrorize her, but she needed the truth. “A long time ago, we were at constant war with all the inhabitants in the Underworld. We were destroying our world. Angels intervened and helped us contain our fire through music. This music resides within the Golden Tree and calms our dragon fire. Without it, we will grow dark again, vicious. The angels touched the Wraith, our Goddess and she has the Gift of a sight. She said only the human tainted with angel blood can save the Golden Tree.”
She moved to the edge of the bed, farthest away from him. “Excuse me?” Her hand shaking, she twisted her ring. “What does this have to do with me?”
God, this wasn’t going well. “A Rocky Mountain beetle from your world got through the portal and infected the tree. The Golden Tree is dying. The Wraith is our Goddess and she has the Gift of Sight. She sent me to Earth to bring you back, because your blood is tainted with angel blood and you alone have the ability to return the Light to the Golden Tree.”
“Angel blood? My father is Michael the Archangel?” Her green eyes narrowed.
“Something like that. You’re my soul mate.” He held his breath, waiting for her to digest what he just said.
Her eyes peeked open and her brows wrinkled. She chewed her lip. “I’m your what?”
She hadn’t run screaming out of the room yet. “You heard me.”
She put her hands on her hips and stood. “Eric, I don’t know if you put a roofie in my drink or not. I want out of here.”
He stiffened, not liking the accusation. “A what?”
“The date rape drug.” She tapped her temple. “Any of this ring true?”
“I don’t rape women, demons or humans, Cassandra.”
“And I know because?”
“Because I give you my word of honor.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, and that means so much to me.”
Heat fled his cheeks. “No one has ever challenged my honor before. Believe it or not, demons do hold honor.”
She smirked. “And I’m supposed to believe this because why?”
Her words tore into his heart. “Because I have never lied to you.”
“Oh, right. You never lie.” She tapped her chin with her finger in an exaggerated motion. “Not.” She glared. “You can’t keep me here.”
“Actually, I can.”
She stormed back and forth across the room. “I’m a prisoner here?”
“No, you’re my guest.”
She stopped. “Well, Mr. Demonkidnapper, a guest is allowed to leave when they want, not so much for a prisoner.”
This wasn’t how he imagined introducing her to the Underworld. He wanted to show her his world in happier times when his mother would open her arms to meet her and his father would welcome her into his kingdom. “Cassandra, let me explain.”
“Can I leave or not?”
He met her angry gaze. “No.”
She marched to the bed and sat. “Then I’m a prisoner.”
“Cassandra…”
She held up her hand. “Don’t Cassandra me. Either I can leave or not.”
“If there was another way…”
“There isn’t. Can I at least leave this tower?”
He walked to the window. Outside guards paced the castle wall. “No.”
“No?”
He shut the curtain and turned around. “Cassandra, if you leave, my father will know and he’ll not take kindly you being here. You’ll be arrested and thrown in the dungeon.”
“I’m stuck here?”
He leaned against the wall. “Unless you agree to be my mate.”
“If I say ‘yes’ to being your mate, then what?”
“You can go back and forth from here to Earth.”
“Either I say yes and I can leave, or say no and I’m stuck in this damn room?”
“Yes.”
“You bastard.” She threw a pillow and it fell at his feet.
“I’ve been called worse.”
She scampered across the bed and ran to where he had been standing. “Stay away from me.”
“I told you I would never hurt you.”
She glanced at the bay window and jumped back. “God, how high are we?”
“At least ten stories.”
“Shit, shit, shit. I can’t believe this is happening.” She kicked the pillow. It soared straight into the air and bounced off the ceiling. “You’re not going to keep me here. I have a life.”
She wasn’t giving him much choice. He wished he could return her to her world, but his way of life was dying. He’d give her…if she’d only save his first.
He headed for the door. “I’ll leave you for a moment.”
“So, this is my prison?”
“Cassandra, I would give anything for this to be different. Forgive me.”
“Where are you going?”
Taking the coward way out, he left her. He shut the door and leaned against it. Her angry sob tore his insides. She hated him. All those dreams were for not. He had failed. How could he convince her to be his mate? It wasn’t only about her saving his people and the Golden Tree. He needed her. Admit it. Damn it. You’re in love with her.
8
Cassandra slumped to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees and put her head down. Trapped in the Underworld forever unless she agreed to his insane, dark promise. She missed the caring man in her dreams who attended to her every need. He was gone, replaced by a selfish, uncaring one. Her dream man had just turned into a nightmare.
The plum painted walls warmed her and an orchid canopy bed with overstuffed pillows spoke of royalty. There was a mahogany carved desk with a French Victorian chair. She sat on a plush white carpet. It could be worse. She could be locked in a dungeon sitting on a cold stone floor.
“I’m truly losing it.” She stood and ran to the door. “Gotta be a way out of here.”
She turned the knob. Locked. What did she expect? She dashed to the black drapes, hanging over the windows. Two suns descended behind magnificent mountains, rivaling the Colorado Rockies back home. White fluffy clouds turned purple and pink.
Glowing torches illuminated the gray stone castle and reflected on a black moat. She was in one of the corner towers soaring ten stories high. A white foamy roaring river wound around the castle separating it from a little village and it had to be at least ten feet wide. The village was filled with brownstone buildings with red tile roofs and cobblestone streets. Maybe if she could get there, someone could help her escape.
Shit, there was only one entrance and one approach to the castle. No way to get out without being seen.
In the middle of the castle’s courtyard, an enormous, tall aspen tree with dozens of naked twisted gnarled limbs, struggled for life. Dead leaves piled around at the trunk. It must have been beautiful once, but now winter had claimed the tree and her boughs were barren.
Black winged guards patrolled the defensive walls, their upper bodies covered by tan shirts. But no. As the guards patrolled, the only shirts they wore were their glorious straining and flexing muscles. Tree-sized thighs seemed to challenge the confines of their tight, leather, ebony pants. On their backs, they had leather straps lined with bullets and they carried machine guns in their massive hands. Tucked in their belts were sabers and revolvers.
A guard glanced at her, and a sinister smile spread across his lips. His solid red eyes spelled death. He killed her breath. She darted away from the window, and leaned against the wall. How could she hope for an escape?
&n
bsp; Icy air froze her. The Wraith. This thing was a Goddess to the demons? Shaking, Cassandra found her voice. “Why am I here?”
The Wraith pointed a long bony finger at her. “He told you.”
“I’m supposed to mate with him. You mean marry him?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to kill me if I don’t?”
“No.”
Acting braver than she felt, she demanded, “Take me home.”
“I’ve seen it. He’s appeared to you in your dreams. Trust him. You have the ring. Fulfill the prophecy.”
She glanced at the simple silver band on her finger. “My ring? What prophecy?”
The Wraith faded.
Cassandra called out, “My ring? What prophecy?” She spun around the room, but she was alone. The Wraith left her with more questions than answers.
She plopped on the bed. Mother had given her the ring at her sixteenth surprise birthday party.
Her mother had handed her a small black velvet box. A smooth silver ring sparkled in the purple satin.
“Mom, it’s beautiful.”
“I wanted you to have this,” her mother had said. “To remember all of your accomplishments—not stuttering, speaking clearly, your good grades. You've grown into a beautiful young woman.” Her mother had hugged her. “Happy sixteenth birthday, sweetheart.”
Cassandra missed her mother’s soft citrus fragrance, her mother’s faith in her that never failed to humble Cassandra. She'd believed in her, protected her, helped her achieve her goals. Cassandra slumped. Right now, she’d give anything to hear her mother’s voice or inhale her sweet perfume. What if she never saw her again? Or her father? Or Lilly?
She grabbed a pillow and stretched out on the bed. Her whole life she had been searching for the man in her dreams only to finally meet him and have him lock her in a tower. What was that saying? Too good to be true. She should have stayed with Luke.
But she had never wanted Luke. She had always wanted Eric. She just hadn't known he was real. A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away. Shivering she grabbed a quilt, crawled under it, and curled up into a ball. More tears fell. This time, she let them. Eric was her kidnapper, but he was the only safe and familiar thing about this place. Why hadn’t he stayed with her? The clock on the mantle ticked and he never returned. Pulling the quilt tighter around her, she softly cried herself to sleep.
Warmth spread across her cheek and she opened her eyes. The morning sun shone on her face. Someone had pulled the drapes apart. Eric? When had he returned?
She stretched. The door creaked open. She sat at attention. Speaking of her jailer, Eric came in carrying a silver tray with a silver platter of food and a pot of coffee. Her heart leapt at his return, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was glad to see him. Why should she? He'd betrayed her.
He set the tray on the mahogany desk and removed the platter. Her stomach growled at the fluffy scrambled eggs, fresh pineapple, buttered wheat toast and slices of bacon. The aroma of coffee filled the room and she longed for a cup. She glared. “I’m not hungry. Tell me about the prophecy and my ring.”
Folding his arms, he met her cold stare. “I take it the Wraith visited you last night?”
“So?”
Uncrossing his arms, he edged closer.
She'd missed him. Her mind screamed for her to tell him to leave to remember he was a demon, a kidnapper, but her body responded to his masculine scent, enchanting lips. She wanted him. Really wanted him, not just to work through her fear or to fulfill her fantasy.
As if in a trance, she slid off the bed. Did she move on her own or did he use some kind of dark magic? Either way, she wanted him to touch her. Kiss her again. Hold her.
He maneuvered her against a wall. His muscles rippled beneath her palms and his heart pounded as fast as hers. He trailed his finger down her face, sending a wave of heat through her blood. Trembling, she stared at his half parted lips, willing him to kiss her again.
Brown eyes mesmerized her, undeniable desire reflecting them. Tender lips caressed hers and she sighed. Heat spread and pooled into a sweet ache between her thighs.
He cupped her breast, squeezing it. The caress of his fingers playing with her growing sensitive breast took her breath away. Eric’s kiss turned demanding, possessive, sweeping pleasure through her and sending her into a pool of desire. Her legs wobbled and she gripped his shirt to keep from falling. He slipped his hand under her sweater. Her knees weakened.
She couldn’t do this. Not for real. She broke off the kiss. “No, Eric. Stop.”
He stared at her with hooded eyes. “You don’t want me to stop.”
Panting, she summoned her strength to push on his chest, trying to ground herself into reality. “Yes, I do,” she lied. Had he put a spell on her? She had to gather her wits or fall into a hopeless pile of desire.
He pulled away and waved his hand. “Move across the room from me,” he ordered, his voice strained.
Straightening her sweater, she edged away from him, her body tingling. “Now, tell me about the prophecy. And my ring.”
His intense gaze followed her, a panther watching his prey, ready to pounce. “My people are turning feral. Lethal. Out of control. Bent or killing each other for pleasure.”
“Why?”
“Because the Light has left them.”
“I don’t understand.”
“For centuries, the Light of the Golden Tree has sung the Song of Tranquility, which keeps the Light within us and keeps our dragon fire under control.”
She was plopped in a fantasy tale with no way out. “Dragon fire?”
“Yes. My ancestors mated with dragons long ago. Dragon fire burns within our core. It’s primitive, more animalistic. When it takes control, we become fierce predators.” He half smiled. “What do humans say? Music calms the wild beast?”
“That’s a myth.”
“All myth is based on fact. When the last leaf drops, all of us will give into the lust. We will war with each other and focus on the humans.”
“You’ll kill us?”
“Or enslave you. Death would be preferable. Once turned, nothing on Earth can stop us.”
“If nothing on Earth can stop you, how come you need me?”
His eyes softened. “You’re the Light. The prophecy said on the eve of the equinox, during the year of her twenty-first year, the silver haired human, tainted with angel blood, who is mated to the last Lord of the House of Wyvern, and has looked upon the Wraith and the Undead unchanged, will breathe upon the Golden Tree and return the Light to the people.”
“You’re the last Lord of Wyvern?”
“Yes.”
“Tomorrow is March twentieth and my birthday is on June twentieth.”
“Yes, the summer solstice, when your Light shines the brightest.”
“Eric, I’m not the only human who can see the undead.”
“True.” He walked over to the tray, poured a cup of coffee, and doctored it with cream. “But you’ve seen the Wraith and remained unchanged, untouched.”
He approached her and offered her the cup and didn’t make any sudden moves. “Here, you need coffee.”
Her shaking hands circled the cup, chasing away the chill running through her.
“When the Wraith appears to humans.” He returned to the tray and poured himself a cup of black coffee. “Unless they are pure in spirit, they turn evil, insane.”
All this time, she’d been in danger. “I don’t want this and what does this have to do with my ring.” She took a sip, wishing a shot laced it.
“Your ring is from the Underworld, destined for you.”
“No, it’s not. My mother gave it to me.”
He smiled. “Where did your mother get it?”
“I don’t know. She never told me.”
“I can.”
She wouldn’t like what he said.
“Your mother purchased it at a craft sale from an old woman.”
&nbs
p; “You don’t mean the Wraith.”
He shook his head. “No, the Wraith sent her priestess here disguised as an old woman.” His voice softened. “I would never allow anything to happen to anyone you love Cassandra.”
She wasn’t even sure she wanted to wear it. Her mother had given it to her out of love and right now, she needed her mother’s love.
“You have a choice, Cassandra. Refuse and your race will be dominated and enslaved, or accept and they go free.”
“But I don’t love you.” As the words rolled off her tongue, she knew it was a lie. Her heart swelled when he was around and no man had ever measured up to him.
He narrowed his eyes. “Love isn’t part of the bargain. Soul mates in the Underworld are destined. The drive to mate is hard.”
His icy tone cooled her blood. “You mean demons aren’t capable of love?” Had she been wrong about him? In the dream, he had always been so tender, kind, loving.
“I didn’t say that.” He slammed the cup on onto a nightstand. “Unlike humans we don’t need love to be mated. Ours is based on instinct. Once mated, the bond between the two can never be broken. We die defending our mates.”
“How many other women have been taken here against their will?”
His eyes darkened, red glints growing brighter. She hit a nerve, at what cost?
“You mean humans?” He curled his lip. “None.”
“Excuse me?”
He gave her a droll stare. “Your human arrogance causes you to think you’re the only game in time.”
“Town.”
He frowned. “What?”
She rolled her eyes. “The saying is ‘you’re the only game in town’, not time.”
His face darkened and he clamped his jaw.
Obviously, sarcasm wasn’t going to win her any points. She put her hands on her hips. “What exactly do you mean by humans?”
“Some demons have mated with sirens, elves and nymphs.”
He was either totally insane or she was, but then again, she was in the Underworld, not Earth. Probably, every mythical creature lived here. “I’ve been plopped into a Lord of the Rings saga. Next you’ll tell me demons mate with Orcs. Oh, that’s right. You guys are the Orcs.”