A smile starting to form, he turned to look down at her. Malak was sure his whole life ended in that one moment. Sophia lay on the ground, her gown pushed up around her waist. She was pale, shaking and worst of all, she was covered in blood. The bite marks on her neck were unmistakable, as was the tiny mark on her breast. But not only that, there was also a smudge of blood on her thigh. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember that first thrust into her sweet, tight body. Torment rolled over him. There was no mistaking it. She’d been pure.
He’d been so tempted by her, having smelled her desire for him from that first moment. She’d denied him, fought him and then in sleep she’d cuddled into his arms, sighing his name over and over as if calling to him in a dream. Malak had refused to take advantage of her, but then she had touched him, her small hand rubbing his chest and stomach and hips. She’d been moaning by that point.
Thinking back on it now, it was possible she’d been sleeping when she’d done it. By All the Lycan! He’d been sleeping when it started. Malak had denied himself pleasure and the beast inside him must not have been too happy about it. How could he not remember the beast coming out? How could he not remember biting her, marking her so thoroughly that he’d done it in three spots?
Sophia glanced over her body, only to look at him again. Her mouth opened as she screamed--not at the dragon, but at him. She jerked to standing, wobbling on her feet. Malak lifted his chin, wanting to reach for her. When he tried, she’d pulled back from him, stepping dangerously close to the edge.
“How dare you!” she screeched.
“Sophia, please, step away from the ledge, you’re going to hurt yourself. I know what you’re thinking, but the wounds are already healing. It’s not as bad as you think. I can explain.”
“Not as bad as I think?” she yelled. “You marked me!”
Malak stiffened. Huh? That wasn’t what he was expecting her to be upset over.
“You did, didn’t you?” Sophia glared at him, seeming oddly unconcerned with the fact that he’d just taken her body like she was a woman used to receiving such passion, or the fact that she’d been bitten by a wild beast. No, she was mad because he marked her with his scent so everyone would know she was his. “You marked me. Now I’m going to be having feelings for you, aren’t I? Oh, why did you have to do that? I don’t like you, Malak. I don’t want to be connected to you. I don’t want to be connected to anyone. Argh! How could you do this…? Argh!”
“So you’re mad that I marked you as my lover?” Malak asked, trying to wrap his brain around it.
“Have you not been listening?” she growled. Shaking her head and muttering curses at him, she grabbed her tunic and began struggling to put it on.
“But, your…?” He gestured helplessly at her stomach. It had been so long since he’d even thought of a virgin, let alone had one in his bed. Had he ever had one in his bed? He honestly couldn’t recall a time.
“Maidenhead?” she supplied when he couldn’t form the word, only to grimace at him like he was an imbecile for asking. “I don’t care about that. I had no intentions of keeping it forever and since I won’t marry, it seems a little silly to get worked up over how it was lost.”
“Then you were?” He frowned, placing his hands on his hips. The more he thought about it, he was starting to get upset. So he was good enough to pleasure her, but not good enough to have marked her?
“Ugh, focus,” she demanded, her tone condescending. She grabbed his tunic and threw it at him. Malak automatically tied it around his waist. “I need you to take the mark thing away. What do we do? Both agree that it needs to be gone. Okay, I want it gone.”
Malak’s jaw tightened.
“It’s your turn,” Sophia prompted, arching a brow. “Will it away. I don’t want to be claimed by you.”
He could hardly breathe, let alone speak.
“It doesn’t work like that, does it?” she asked when he didn’t say the words. “Great. Just bloody great. You know, you’re all alike. You just want me to bend to your will, be your little lovesick woman pining over you. Ah, but I’m ahead of you this time. I’ll fight it. Any tender thing I should start to feel for you, which I don’t right now, I’ll be able to resist. This is one human who’s not going to--”
“The portal’s up ahead,” Malak stated coldly, interrupting her tirade. He didn’t want to hear anymore. She’d made her point perfectly clear. The sooner he shoved her through to the other side the better. Already he felt a connection to her, one he didn’t like one bit.
Hopping off the ledge, he began to walk. Sophia gasped at his abrupt dismissal, but Malak ignored her. Anger and rage boiled in his chest. He was good enough to sleep with her, but not good enough to mark her as his lover. What, did she have others lined up? Was there someone else? It had been mentioned the vampire Lord Devlin had interacted with her. Did she pine for that bloodsucker?
The way she spat at him, hating him with every word, every hard look, tore at his gut. He’d never felt more pleasure in a woman’s body and she could barely stand to be in his presence. Sure, she might desire him, had let him use her body, but she didn’t even like him. In fact, she seemed to think she was better than he was, as if he’d insulted her by marking her in such a possessive way.
By All the Lycan! Three bites!
One bite was a strong mark, but three? Three would insure that no one touched her from his world. Three would bind her to him so tight that he’d actually hurt physically if he tried to bed anyone else. Actually, he couldn’t even think of another he wanted to bed.
Malak walked faster, hearing Sophia stumble to keep up. He had to get her through that portal. Only when she was far away from him, would he be back to his old self.
Sophia walked behind Malak, her whole body shaking. She was mad, scared, sad, terrified. Already she felt her body trying to connect to him, reaching for him, desiring him. Even as her insides ached from where he’d taken her, she wanted him to do it again.
The bites didn’t scare her. They didn’t hurt and Mina had recovered from hers just fine. She was never one to pretend she was hurt when she was not. What scared her was that he’d marked her, was trying to enchant her to him, take away her will. Had he wanted her permission, he’d have asked her first. But, no, he just did it, trying to take her spirit away from her--just like those before him.
Tears flooded her eyes, but she dashed them away. This is exactly what she feared would happen if she stayed in the magic realm. Sophia didn’t want to feel anything tender, not even caring or a simple attachment. She wanted her freedom.
The path narrowed as they worked their way up the side of a mountain. Sophia glanced down the steep incline, hugging along the cliff wall. It looked like the path only got smaller and smaller, disappearing into the flat surface. There was nowhere to go but down. Looking over the edge, she briefly thought about jumping. Just as quickly, she dismissed it. She was never one to take the easy way out. Her stomach dropped from looking down too long.
“Here.” Malak turned back to her and reached out his hand, as if sensing her sudden plight. “Take my hand.”
Sophia instantly pulled back, not reaching for him. She couldn’t touch him, not now, not ever.
His face darkened. “Fine. Just try not to fall. I would hate to have you stuck here.”
“Well, I’d hate to be stuck here,” she snapped. “In fact, can we hurry this up?”
Malak growled, snarling at her. He continued along the ledge only to stop after a few feet. Running his hand over the face of the mountain, he quickly whispered some words, growling them in his native tongue. Sophia couldn’t understand them and didn’t even try to.
She looked out over the distance. The view was beautiful. Mountains poked out over the distance, meeting the clear purple sky. Hearing a noise, she glanced back at Malak. He was gone. Panicking, she called, “Malak? Malak!”
His hand shot out of the side of the mountain, as if coming right out of the stone. She inched toward it, eyeing his
moving fingers. Hesitantly, she touched him to see if it was real. His fingers snaked around her wrist and jerked her into the side of the mountain. She yelped as she fell through the stone like it was air only to hit Malak’s solid chest. He instantly grabbed her by her upper arms and set her back from him.
Sophia found herself inside the mountain. When she turned around, whatever door she’d come through was gone. In its place, the walls of a cave sparkled like she was inside a gemstone. Colorful stalagmites grew up from the floor, outlining a single path that led deeper into the mountain. Ridges of dripstone formed crystals along the ceiling, hanging down into the occasional stalactites.
“Where is that light coming from?” Sophia looked around, unable to see a fire.
“The portal,” he answered, walking so fast she had to jog to keep up with him. “Come on, it’s this way. Try not to fall over the side.”
Sophia looked down. Along each side was the stalagmites formed a rail of sorts to keep her from falling over. The path was narrow and she had to keep behind Malak. She swallowed, drawn to look at his naked back. Long strands of his dark hair bounced lightly along his spine. Malak stopped as they neared the end of the long cave passageway and she was so transfixed by his body that nearly bumped into him.
“Merrlyn,” Malak called through the door.
“Yea, Lord Malak, I’ve been expecting you,” a weathered voice answered. “Come in. Introduce me to your woman.”
Sophia stiffened.
“Oh, she doesn’t like being called your woman,” the same voice said with a laugh. “And yet she carries your teeth marks on her neck.”
Sophia gasped in surprise, lifting to touch her neck. She looked around, but could detect no tiny creatures watching them. “How does he see this?”
Suddenly, an old man appeared to match the weathered voice. He wore a plain green tunic over his slender, hunched frame, and a long grey beard grew over his chest matching the wiry locks of his hair. Wrinkles looked as if they’d laid siege to his face centuries ago.
“At eight hundred and ninety eight, let’s see if you look as good as me, mortal,” the wizard laughed.
“Merrlyn, this is Lady Sophia,” Malak said. “King Larus has ordered--”
“Larus?” Merrlyn interrupted. “He’s king of the lycans now?”
“For some time, yes,” Malak said.
“Hmm, I might have heard that somewhere. The rocks aren’t that great for gossip, you know. But they do tell me what I need to know.” The wizard motioned to his side. Malak stepped into the chamber, giving her room to follow. She looked at the wall Merrlyn had motioned to. Like a live painting, an image of outside the cave came to them. If she looked hard enough, she could see the speck of land where Malak had made love to her. Her cheeks reddened. It hadn’t even occurred to her that someone could have been watching.
“I closed my eyes,” the wizard assured her.
Sophia couldn’t look at him. Her humiliation was complete. The rest of the wizard’s chamber was like the entrance to the cave, only odd furniture had been made from the stone formations. There was a narrow bed on a ridge, a chair and tables made of stone, and even a torch stand carved into one of the stalagmites.
“Please, kind sir,” Sophia said. “I just want to go home. I’m told you have a portal.”
“Where are you from? Italy?” The wizard cocked his head to the side to study her. “You don’t look like the Italians. Saxon, perhaps? Norse?”
“Wessex. I’m from Wessex,” she said. “But I’ll take France if you have it, or anywhere really, so long as it’s my world and not this one.”
Malak grunted and she tried her best to ignore him. It didn’t work. She felt his eyes on her and she had to look at him. His handsome face etched itself on her memory. Since this was the last time she would ever see him, she found it hard to hate him quite as much as she ought to.
“My lord,” she whispered, holding out her hand. “You’ve kept your bargain and I thank you. Please, give my love to my sister should you see her again.”
A tear slipped over her cheek. Malak nodded once, but didn’t speak. She turned from him.
“I can’t remember a France,” the wizard said. “Ah, well, I’ll do a birthplace spell. That should get you close enough. Your family didn’t move around, did they?”
Sophia shook her head. “No. It’s just me. I don’t really care where you put me.”
“Ah, well then, go on if you’re in a hurry.” The wizard again motioned to the moving painting on the cave wall.
Sophia looked at it and gasped. It was her home. Winter snow lay thick and white over the crumbling walls of the castle. She’d forgotten about the cold that awaited her. The front gate was smashed to pieces by a battering ram from the siege and the high towers of the keep had holes from the king’s catapults. A cold breeze hit her as she stared at the cave wall.
“Malak,” she said, turning to say goodbye. He wasn’t there. Only the landscape stretched around her. She gasped in shock. “Malak? Can you hear me? Malak? Malak!”
* * * *
Malak stared at the wall, watching Sophia’s body dissolve into it. She didn’t look back as she left him through the portal. It was just as well she didn’t say anything more to him. As the wall hardened to replace the image of a desolate castle, he expected the pull he felt for her to lessen. It didn’t. His heart tightened in his chest, until if threatened to stop beating. He took a deep breath and then another.
“Time,” he assured himself. Time would make the pain go away. It had only been a few seconds and he did bite her three times.
“It is a cure for most things,” the wizard agreed, “given enough of it.”
Malak nodded at the man. Inside he felt empty. The home Sophia chose to go back to was a horrific place, by any standard. He remembered what she’d said about her father and the human king. By the looks of her home, she was telling the truth. She must truly loathe him and his kind to choose a crumbling, barren castle over the life of privilege Larus offered to give her as his ward. Had she but asked, Malak would have taken her to Fenris and given her a place there as well. Many lycans would willingly marry her, giving her a choice of whatever life she wanted to lead. Here she would have been loved, adored, cared for, tended to, protected. And yet, she chose a pile of rocks and snow.
“You need anything, Merrlyn? Food? Clothes? Supplies?” Malak turned to the man, doing his best to force Sophia from his mind. It wasn’t as easy as he had hoped.
“A woman,” the old man said, cackling. He asked for one each time Malak saw him.
“That I would not wish on any man,” Malak answered, as he always did. “Can’t you conjure one to fill the need?”
“That I do,” the old man agreed. “Will you be staying for tea, Lord Malak, or do you have to go?”
“I have nowhere to be,” he said, staring at the wall in longing. “And no one is expecting me to be there.”
* * * *
Wessex, Realm of Mortals, Winter 1407 AD
Glancing around the familiar landscape of her home, Sophia shivered to see the desolate keep. Upon her arrival back into the mortal realm, she’d walked toward the castle, knowing that there should be firewood gathered by the fireplace. It had been dark inside, but she knew the old stones better than any place between heaven and earth.
As she managed to light a meager fire, Sophia turned to look around. Bowls were set out on a table. It was the meal she and her sister had been eating when they’d been drugged by Cupid. Slowly walking to the table, she touched the rim of her sister’s bowl. Tears entered her eyes and all she could do was cry.
“Why did I come back to this?” she whispered regretfully. But how could she not? Malak’s image came to mind and she shivered. She could still feel his hands on her body.
Suddenly, a horrible, yet familiar smell assaulted her and she turned in horror. Gagging, she said, “Cupid.”
The little troll’s wide lips spread into what had to be the scariest smile she’
d ever seen. His beady eyes bore into her as he waddled forward on his stubby legs. Sticking his finger up his nose, he itched around in it. Sophia gagged as he stuck the finger into his mouth.
“What do you want? Leave me alone,” she demanded.
“Ach, your voice is as ugly as ringing bells,” the troll grimaced.
“I said leave me alone! You’ve done enough.” She continued to back away from him. But where could she go? “What do you want from me?”
“It’s not a matter of what I want.” Cupid reached into his pocket and pulled out a pink vile of liquid. “It’s what Lord Malak wants.”
Sophia screamed, running full tilt toward the castle door. Something hit the back of her head, but she tried to keep moving. A numbing sensation worked its way over her and her limbs felt heavy. Before she could do anything about it, she was falling toward the floor, her vision darkening.
Not again!
Chapter Five
Fenris Castle, Realm of Magic
Malak frowned, not really wanting to get up from his game, especially not to receive a dirty little troll--a troll he blamed for the torment in his gut, a troll that had brought his tormenter, Lady Sophia, into what he had thought was his perfect world. Now, he was just going through the motions of living. It had been five very long days and nights as he watched the silver moon fade into red, sealing the portals. He’d sent dispatch to Larus upon completing his mission and seeing Sophia through to her world. Malak knew the king would be relieved at the moon’s changing, as Cupid could cause no more mischief for the season.
Then what was the horrid little being doing at Fenris? Surely he just wanted to thank him for saving his life, but Malak really preferred the troll do nothing in return. In fact, he just might have left him in the quicksand to drown had he known whose arm it was poking out of the sand.
“He said if you didn’t come, he would meet you down in the hall,” his steward insisted. The man was slight in stature compared to the lycans, but being part fairy, part elf made Gaston especially well equipped to run Malak’s castle for him.
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