Bloodright

by Karin Tabke

  Falon moaned. Her head hurt.

  Make the cut, Rafael, the soft voice commanded.

  Warm drops of blood plopped on her lips.

  Rafa.

  Take my blood, Falon, he softly said, touching her cheek. Take it all.

  Her veins warmed as Rafa’s blood infused hers with its strength. Her headache vanished. The shimmer of the three bloods fusing, then recirculating, infused her cells with vitality.

  An incredible sense of contentment shimmered through her. Knowing she was safe, Falon allowed exhaustion to claim her.

  FALON’S EYES FLUTTERED open. The steady thud of a heart beat beneath her cheek. She realized she lay on a bare chest. Lucien’s clean woodsy scent cradled her. The room was dark, save for the soft glow cast by a few candles burning on the nightstand.

  Her stomach growled. Strong arms tightened around her. She looked up into two fiery gold eyes. Slowly she smiled. Shocked, Falon watched those fierce golden eyes fill with tears.

  “No, Luca,” she whispered reaching toward his lips. “Don’t cry.”

  When their lips met, lightning struck. The shock was so extreme, Falon cried out, pulling away from Lucien. Wide-eyed, she stared at him. He reached out a hand and cupped the back of her head, bringing her lips to his again. She stiffened, anticipating the shock of the contact again, but this time, warmth infused her.

  She melted into his kiss as his fingers clasped her head, and his other arm tightened around her. She felt the wild staccato of his heartbeat pulse through her. Tears stung her eyes.

  “Falon,” he said hoarsely. “I can feel your heartbeat running through me.”

  “That’s because you have stolen my heart.”

  He grinned. “It’s about damn time.”

  She clung tightly to him as her weird dreams surfaced and prayed that they were just that, dreams.

  Thirteen

  “HOW DO YOU feel?” Lucien asked, tracing his fingers across her lips.

  Falon closed hers eyes, pushing her dreams aside. She was alive and would rejoice in that. And the man who saved her. “Like I’ve been run over by a train. What happened?”

  His darkened eyes caught hers. “What do you remember?”

  Falon closed her eyes and slowly exhaled. “The last thing I remember was holding hands with you and Rafael.” Her eyes flashed open with a sudden sense of dread. “Rafael? Did I dream he was here?”

  Lucien’s lips tightened but he nodded. “He was here.”

  Falon exhaled. “And you permitted that?”

  “I would have done anything to save you, Falon.”

  Her tension loosened. “Something happened to change your feelings about Rafe. Tell me.”

  He shrugged, looking over her shoulder. “Your words are beginning to sink in.”

  He smiled when she gasped and looked at her. “I’m tired of the hatred that has been eating at me all of these years. It’s time to put it aside, prepare for the rising, and focus on Slayer annihilation.”

  Speechless, Falon’s jaw hung open. Lucien slipped two fingers beneath it and gently shut it. “Don’t get me wrong, Falon. I will never welcome Rafe with open arms. But he is my brother and the fact that he has chosen another mate, and will honor that choice or die, gives me confidence he will not try to come between us.” His eyes narrowed. “Because if he does, I will kill him.”

  The reminder that Rafael would soon belong to another gut-punched her.

  Lucien’s lips tightened. “I know how you feel about him, Falon. I wished you didn’t. But as he is making a life with another, so, too, will we make a life together.”

  She willed the tears to go away. Her love for Rafael would never die—that Lucien accepted that gave her hope. But hope of what? Struggling to make him understand what she didn’t even understand herself, she licked her dry lips. “I know it must be hard for you, Lucien. It would be hard for me. But there is something about the three of us. Back there, with the Slayers, touching you and touching Rafa at the same time, it was amazing. Power infused me, Luca. Power like I have never felt before. After that bullet came out of me, I felt invincible—”

  He shook her slightly, his features fierce. “But you weren’t invincible, Falon! How could you go after Corbet like that?”

  She closed her eyes as it all came flooding back. In hindsight she had been foolish to risk her life and the lives of Vulkasin. But at the time she truly felt she was bulletproof. “Corbet stabbed me with your arrow. That’s the last thing I remember.”

  “He stabbed you, then bit you. Then you were stabbed by another Slayer.” His voice wavered with emotion. “The stab wounds weren’t the problem; it was Corbet’s poisoned blood that nearly killed you.” He lowered his voice. “Falon, I almost lost you.”

  The naked fear in his voice moved her. Was there hope for them after all? “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  She rubbed her forehead with the palm of her hand as she tried to muddle through what had happened to her. “I had really weird dreams. I dreamt of Layla. That she was my mother.”

  Lucien sat up and scooted against the headboard, bringing Falon with him. His arms cradled her as she would their babe. “I couldn’t save you, Falon. I tried. Talia tried.” His voice choked with emotion. “But there was nothing we could do. The poison in your blood was killing you. The only way to cure you was to replace your blood with true blood.”

  “True blood?”

  “Blood of your parents or a sibling. I begged the Great Spirit Mother to intervene. She sent me Layla. Who miraculously is your mother.”

  Dumbfounded, Falon stared at Lucien. “How can that be?” As the questions piled up in her head, emotion overloaded her. She had a mother and she was alive! Love and wonder sprang into her heart but riding its heels was more than a flicker of resentment. Why had she abandoned her? What kind of mother would do that? “Where is she?” Falon made to move from Lucien. Gently he pulled her back into his arms.

  “She nearly died from her blood loss, Falon. She’s been in a deep sleep since last night. Talia’s with her.”

  “I want to see her.” She wanted answers.

  “As she does you, but first—” Lucien kissed her nose then slid from the bed. “I have something for you.” He moved from the bed and walked over to his desk.

  As Falon waited for him, conflicting emotions crashed together inside her. While she gloried in the news her mother was not only alive but a revered Lycan, she could not shake the anger that bubbled just beneath the surface of her happiness. She had been abandoned as a young child. Left to the broken-down foster system, never knowing who her parents were. It messed with Falon, as it messed with a lot of kids. What was she supposed to do now? Welcome her mother with open arms? Let bygones be bygones?

  Oddly, a part of her wanted to do just that. But the suspicious Lycan part cautioned her to take it one step at a time. “How is she, Lucien? I mean, dear God, she cut off her foot to get out of that trap. Did she say anything about Thomas Corbet?”

  “Her leg is healing, and she spoke only of her love for you.”

  For the moment, Falon chose to be cautiously optimistic. She would set aside her resentment for now. Maybe she wasn’t abandoned. Maybe she had been kidnapped and Layla had been searching for her all these years. She allowed a small part of her heart to hope, and with that hope, a profound sense of belonging filled her. It was as deep as the feeling she had when she discovered she was Lycan. Of finally fitting in, no longer an orphan. She had a mother! Who despite her past, loved her enough to reveal herself and save her. Urgency filled her. So many questions only her mother could answer.

  Quietly she watched Lucien in all of his naked glory open the top drawer of his desk and remove a long, carved wooden box. A new urgency filled her. To reunite with the man her body craved above all others.

  When he turned, her gaze slid down the hard planes of his chest to the defined muscles of his abdomen, then lower. Slowly she raised her eyes to his. Their gazes caught and held. Falon’s breat
hing hitched up several notches. Her breasts grew heavy and her nipples tightened. Lucien’s dragon was on the rise. Her blood warmed exponentially, as did the sensitive folds between her thighs. “I—my body craves you, Lucien. Will it ever stop?” she asked breathlessly as he moved effortlessly around the foot of the bed and back to her.

  When he sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes continued to hold hers. Slowly he shook his head. “We are blood bound, Falon.”

  “It’s more than that, Lucien. This feeling is more like lust on steroids. I can’t stop wanting you.”

  “Whatever it is, it can never be severed.”

  She leaned up to his lips. “I never want it to be.” Before the Slayer attack, the realization may have shocked her. Now? Anything less seemed wrong.

  He smiled against her lips then cleared his throat. “Pay attention before I forget what I want to say.”

  Reluctantly Falon moved away from his lips. But she set her hand high on his warm thigh, and Lucien groaned. “Falon,” he said sternly.

  “You would think since a girl almost died she could get a little sympathy!”

  He grinned and shook his head. “I’m the one who needs a little sympathy,” he complained, looking down at his thickening erection.

  Falon crossed her arms and flounced back into the pillows.

  Lucien laughed at her pouty face and set the box down on her belly. “That’s beautiful,” she said, admiring the intricate carvings on the smooth ebony wood lid. “What do those symbols mean?”

  “This one,” Lucien said, pointing to the intricate swirling dragon-head design, the same symbol carved into the hilt of Lucien’s sword, “is the insignia of my mother’s people, Mondragon. This one”—he pointed to an abstract carving of a snarling wolf—“is the insignia of my father’s people. Vulkasin.”

  “Rafe has that in the tattoo on his shoulder.” Warmth surged through her when she thought back to the first time she had seen Rafe’s tattoo. He had been bloody and half-naked. Her eyes rose to Lucien’s when she remembered the first time she had gotten a good look at his dragon.

  “As I bear the dragon.” Lucien smiled slyly.

  Heat shimmered through her. “Yes, you certainly do.”

  “When my mother gifted Vulkasin with twin sons, my father had Hector fashion a gift for her.” He opened the box and withdrew an intricately woven brushed gold band. In the center, a dragon and a wolf were artistically smelted facing each other, and joined by a heart-shaped blood ruby. It was stunning in its primal simplicity.

  Lucien took Falon’s left hand and placed the ring on her ring finger. He held it there and looked deeply into her eyes. He cleared his throat and huskily said, “Lycan do not marry as humans do, our marks are our vow, our bond. Many Lycan choose a mate, but very few find their true mate, Falon. In my mother, my father found his true mate as she found him to be hers. They shared a great love.” His voice caught but he continued, “My mother cherished this ring. She was wearing it the day she died. On our tenth birthday, Rafe got the ring my father gave her the day they exchanged marks and she left me this one, on the condition that should I be so fortunate to find my true mate, I give it to her as a testament of my love. I have waited for thirty-four years to give this to the woman I love.” His eyes held hers. “We have been through more in the last weeks than most people go through in a lifetime. Each hurdle we encountered, we jumped together. Each time we landed our bond forged stronger. Almost losing you made me realize, despite the circumstances that brought you to me, you are the only one for me.” He paused, then said, “I would be honored if you would wear it, as a symbol of my love for you, espejo de mi alma.” He smiled. “You are much more than the woman I love; you are the mirror of my soul. We are one. The same.”

  Falon could not utter a word. Lucien’s words stunned her. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect such a profound declaration. Yes, Lucien was passionate. But love? He had told her he was not capable of such an emotion. But she knew he was capable of deep feelings. Anger. Vengeance. Certainly lust. But also loyalty. Her heart hammered painfully against her rib cage. And love. Despite his denials, he loved fiercely. It showed in everything he did. He was fiercely devoted to his pack. He had loved his parents, and she knew despite his resentment, he loved his brother. But after all that his heart had endured, did he truly have the capacity to love her? Love her the way she loved his brother? Love her the way she—loved him? Her body trembled violently with her realization. God help her, she loved everything about him.

  Falon did not have words to express the depth of her emotion. Even if she could express to him in words how she felt, her throat was so clogged with emotion, she could not speak. Big, fat tears plopped down her cheeks. All she could do was nod.

  He slid the ring down her finger. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the ring and her finger. “Whatever you want,” he said huskily, “I’ll give it to you. There is nothing I would not do for you. Nothing.” He brushed his lips across hers. “You hold my life in your hands, angel face. Treat me gently.”

  “Luca,” she breathed, slipping her arms around his neck. “I will never hurt you. I will never betray you. I love you.”

  Smiling tenderly, he said softly, “I make the same promise to you, Falon.”

  Their lips met in a slow, soul-searing kiss. A kiss that promised. A kiss that gave. A kiss that took. The kiss of true mates.

  Falon lost herself in the kiss. Reveled in it, wanted it to last forever.

  But Lucien gently ended it.

  “You need to eat, Falon.”

  “Later,” she breathed tightening her arms around his neck.

  He smiled against her lips. “And you need a bath.”

  She stiffened and pulled away from him.

  His eyes shone brightly. “You haven’t had a bath in three days.”

  “Are you saying I stink?”

  “Like a rotten egg.”

  He swooped her up into his arms and set her on one of the chairs at the table. He uncovered a tray with several bowls of aromatic stew, bread, and fresh fruit.

  “Eat, and I’ll start your bath.”

  Fifteen minutes later, her belly full, Falon sat chin deep in a velvety warm bubble bath. She had brushed her teeth but was too lazy to wash her hair. She just wanted to soak in her food-induced coma. She had not realized she was so hungry until she finished the second bowl of stew. The warm water and soothing bath salts were so relaxing she just wanted to slip beneath the bubbles and sleep for a week until her strength was fully restored.

  Water sluiced against her chest in slow waves. Opening her eyes, Falon watched Lucien step naked into the tub. His bright eyes caught hers. “No monkey business until you’ve had a few days’ rest.”

  He moved behind her and pulled her between his thighs. Mercilessly, she leaned into him, smiling as his cock came alive against her back. “No monkey business?”

  “Falon,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t move.”

  She rubbed slightly against him. “Don’t move like that?”

  “Like that,” he ground out.

  He reached to the side of the tub and turned the faucet on. Warm water poured from the spout. He maneuvered her toward it and pulled the handheld piece out. “Put your head back,” he softly commanded. She obeyed, and he soaked her hair with warm water. Pushing the hand faucet aside, Lucien grabbed the bottle of shampoo and squeezed a glob onto his hands. Working it into a thick lather, he dug his fingers into her scalp, and slowly began to massage her.

  “Ohh, Lucien,” she purred, closing her eyes. “That feels so good.” The sensation of his fingers against her scalp sent tingles along her skin. Her nipples tightened. Arching, Falon dug her fingers into Lucien’s hard thighs. His cock thickened behind her.

  “Falon,” he warned.

  “I’m trying to relax.”

  “Try harder.”

  And she did, try harder. To relax. And finally loosened completely against him, enjoying his attention and the sensation of
his hard warmth surrounding her. As intent as she was on the sensuality of having her hair washed by one of the two men she loved, Lucien had a purpose. He scrubbed her head until her scalp tingled.

  As he began to rinse her hair, Falon thought of Rafael. The other man she loved. The man who had saved her life twice, just as Lucien had. She owed them both much more than she could ever repay. Not only for her life, but for their love. For giving her a home, whether Vulkasin or Mondragon, where she felt welcome. A place she be-longed.

  Her body shimmered with excitement as she remembered the infusion of power when she was connected to both men. How could she forget? Was that what Sharia had meant by the power of the three?

  Were the three of them to join forces at the dawn of the rising to defeat the Slayers? She had felt invincible. Like she could take on all of clan Corbet and prevail. But that wasn’t the case. Ian Corbet had poisoned her. She was strong, but not invincible. But that did not mean she could not learn from her experience. Next time she’d wear armor.

  Lucien’s big hands sluiced along her shoulders to her arms. The velvety warm slickness of the water sensualizing his touch. “Mmm,” she moaned, arching toward him, wanting his hands in other places. Ignoring his own rule, Lucien lowered his lips to her ear and ran his tongue around the outer shell. “Falon, you are a shameless hussy.”

  “You make me that way,” she panted, tilting her head, offering her neck. He took the bait, sliding his lips and teeth along her sultry skin, before settling at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He kissed her, then sucked at her vital vein. His cock thickened behind her, digging into her spine.

  As Lucien’s hand slid up her belly to cup her rosy breasts, Falon pressed her head into his shoulder, giving herself to him. Her thighs parted as warm water swirled around her sensitive lips. Her beast roared to life. “Luca,” she panted. “Make the ache go away.”

  He growled and nipped her neck.

  “Please.”

  He stood lifting her with him. Dripping wet he carried her from the bathroom to the bed. He tossed her onto the linens. The clean scent of fresh sheets tickled her nose. She smiled and moved back into them. “Did you change the sheets yourself, Luca?”