Forsaken Heart

by Elise Whyles

  “Amuliana does have a motive, though I do not see into its depths. She has taken the child to prevent Hema from knowing the truth. There are threads to the vampire palace, to other beings. I can tell you no more than this. I do, however, have a warning for you. Beware, there is one who wears two faces and she will betray you all. She is not mortal nor is she vampire. Una will be safe, her fate lives within the heart of a young warrior who you shall cross paths with soon. One of the bound ones who seek a worthy ending to their quest. Condemned for a crime not of his, he wanders, seeking justice. Heed his warning, Gawain, heed it as it will protect those you care for in this time of unrest. There is more to this than a simple rising of a fallen general.”

  “Is she safe? I would have her back with me.” Bede clung to Gawain’s arm. “Gawain, please. If there—”

  “Your fate, Bede, does not follow the path of your sister.” Marshante settled at the small table, her visage wavering to reveal a hunched, disfigured crone. Her green eyes narrowed as she stared into Bede’s face, her lips curling to reveal crooked, broken teeth. “Your paths were never meant to travel together. It is rare to have a line with so many branches. Usually only one is gifted, one bears the burden of their ancestry. Yet in you I sense great power, great wealth and love, and in that you share the burdens placed upon you by a grief stricken king.”

  “She is but a babe, I must—” Bede grabbed Gawain’s hand, her eyes swimming with tears.

  “Bede.” Marshante paused, her eyes on the dagger next to where Bede clung to Gawain’s hand. With a flick of her wrist, she had the dagger in hand and slammed it through their hands.

  Bede screamed in agony, tears falling as she gasped. Gawain’s roar of fury echoed with her sobs. His fingers scrambled to pull the weapon from their hands. Bede shook as he slid it free, blood pooling between them. He hissed at the sorceress who smirked.

  “I warned you, my vampire friend, my sight is not free.” She shrugged aside her transgression. “Your paths are united. To go home, Gawain, means to understand your war is not over. Guilt has marred you—but it was not your guilt. The one who wears the two faces is responsible for Muadhnait’s death.”

  “Where is the portal?” Gawain clenched his fists on the table. “You’ve taken your bounty, now tell me where is the gate I must travel through to reach my realm?”

  “Two days hard ride by horse to the north you’ll come to a massive wall built by those pesky mortals. The gatekeeper will be near Chesters. Look for her at the setting sun. She’ll not reveal anything while the Romans are about,” Marshante forewarned. “You’ll be walking so it will take you longer. Weakened as your mate is, you’ll not be able to trace far.”

  “We’ll need to depart immediately. Before the sun rises we should be able—”

  “Go at dusk. Let your woman rest.”

  Gawain glanced at Bede who shivered, her face streaked with tears, sweat, and dirt. She needed to rest, to recover not only from her escape from the sun but from the loss of blood and the feverish pace he’d set.

  With a sigh, he nodded. “At dusk. Come, Bede, you can rest here by the fire.”

  Bede shook her head, her eyes already drifting closed. “Too warm. Hungry, Gawain.”

  “Rest while I hunt.”

  “She will be safe here.” Marshante put a hand on his shoulder, the weight warm, comforting. “Trust me, for she awakens within many the beginnings of the end. Soon those who have caused all the mayhem will be known to all—and those deserving of their place will be secured.”

  Gawain bared his teeth. “See that she is safe, witch. Break your word and there will be no place you can hide from me.” He strode out into the darkness, the door slamming shut behind him.

  * * * *

  Bede snuggled deeper into the bedding, her ears straining for a hint of sound to reveal Gawain’s presence. She could hear the sounds of the night but nothing more. The whispers of the predators and prey moved in tandem beyond the tree line. The howl of a wolf echoed on the wind. Rolling over, she punched the straw down and sighed.

  “You want him.” Marhsante’s slow drawl traced like fingers along her back.

  “I hardly think—”

  “I can give you a few hints of truth.” Stepping through the shadows, she settled on the floor beside Bede. “He’s a vampire, one of the king’s most trusted warriors. However, he is still a male. The right encouragement and he’ll be crawling between your thighs faster than you can hide from the sun.”

  Bede shot her a dirty look. “What do you care?”

  “He wears his scars rather than healing them. Scars not his to wear. He speaks of a vow but it is time he breaks it. He was young and it was something in the old ways. So few of the younger warriors are willing to take such vows, but I think they should. Gawain is fierce, dedicated, a warrior to be proud of. If you want him, there is one thing he as a vampire cannot resist.”

  The bed beneath her groaned when she sat up at Marshante’s words. She glanced at the door for a moment before focusing on the phantom before her. “What would that be?”

  “He is a man of honor, of integrity, even among his own kind. He is one who does not drink of a female…unless it is his mate. He wants you, wants to sheath himself within your body. If you want him, make yourself irresistible. Has he drunk of you?”

  “Yes, we had no other—”

  “There are certain pleasure points for vampires.” Marshante buffed her nails. “The neck, the wrist…for a mated male the valley between the breasts. Draw him into these spots and you’ll have him. If he resists, learn the places on his body that rev him up. I once knew a vampire who got hard whenever I licked behind his ear.”

  “How would I draw him to those points? He’s barely kissed me beyond my lips.”

  “There is nothing sweeter than the hint of his mate’s blood. A tiny prick between the breasts, a drop of blood upon a nipple, all will work. If he’s ever touched your pussy then he would know the scent of your essence. It will work just as well as blood, perhaps even better because it will stir the beast’s instincts to mate and you may find yourself with more than you can handle. Though I doubt you’d be displeased with an alpha male betwixt those thighs of yours.”

  Bede shifted, her face on fire as she listened to the witch’s words. Did she want him? Enough to throw caution to the wind and claim him? By the gods, yes, yes she did. He was her man, and she wasn’t about to let anyone or anything stand in her way. “I shall learn. He belongs to me, I want him so badly.”

  “Then take him.” Rising to hover above the floor, Marshante slipped into the shadows of the room, vanishing into the flickering flames to leave Bede alone with her thoughts.

  Was she willing to risk it all to capture her vampire? Bede shuddered at the thought of Gawain’s desire. She could feel the pleasure, the heat when he’d touched her after the bandits’ attack. Her body burned at the memory of his hand against her core, his fingers plucking at the hard, sensitive nub at the top of her pussy.

  Kicking the covers off, she rose to pace the room. Beyond the door she could hear the faint howl of a creature and shuddered. Trailing a finger down her throat she paused between her breasts, her eyes drifting shut. What would turn him on? How could she make him shake that control and take her? She lifted her hand, her fingers slipping between her lips, her tongue swirling around it before she drew it along the curves of her flesh, tracing around first one nipple then the other.

  Erratic, her harsh breathing filled the room as her hand trailed further down her body to the thick, springy curls between her legs. Tossed about a sea of sensation, she leisurely slid her fingers down to the swollen folds. Her breath caught when she brushed her clit, her body on fire. Whimpering as her fingers slid through the slick, wet heat between her nether lips, she braced a hand on the mantel, her knees trembling.

  Taking the few steps back to the bunk, she collapsed, her body undulating with pleasure as she toyed with herself. She dipped a finger inside, shuddering at the tight f
eeling. Dragging it against her sensitive flesh drew a moan of pleasure. Shivering, she wiggled on the bed, her legs kicking at the tangled blankets.

  Lost in the sensations, she barely registered the sound of the door closing. Whimpering Gawain’s name, she arched against her hand, seeking something. A muted growl drew her attention a split second before she felt someone grab her wrist. Her eyes flew open to meet Gawain’s dark stare.

  “Please.” Her legs spread, wrapping around his leather encased hips. A sharp tug and he fell forward, his hands bracing his weight next to her head. “I need you.”

  “Gods above, woman, you’d be enough to tempt even the most stalwart man.” Growling, he bent his head, his mouth so close she could feel his breath dance across her face. He pressed his lips to her, his tongue tracing over her lips. Sharp teeth tugged on her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth.

  Bede groaned, her hands reaching for him, arms tangling behind his head. Her tongue pushed his tongue out, sneaking into his mouth to clash with his. Hot and slick, their tongues dueled, thrusting passionately. The faint sweetness of blood on his tongue eased the hunger within her only to wake another. Her hips arched, pressing into the hot, hard press of his cock beneath his trews.

  “Yes,” he hissed, his hands shredding the bed beneath her. He groaned as her fingers pulled at his shirt, baring his chest to her gaze, her mouth. Licking along his chest, she nibbled at the exposed flesh. Her tongue swirled around his nipple, drawing it into a hardened nub.

  His groans of pleasure echoed deep within her, stirring the embers of her own lust. Desire coiled within her belly, and she hovered on the edge, her mind flooded with yearning as she wiggled beneath him. The scent of her arousal filled her head, the musky scent of his lust competing to drive her to the brink.

  She cried out when he pulled away, his head dipping so he could lick along her throat. He bit at the flesh of her neck, his teeth scratching the surface before his tongue laved the wound. Throwing her head back, she moaned as he trailed kisses down to her breasts, his hands cupping them. Mouth closing over a puckered nipple to lavish it with heated licks, pressing it against the roof of his mouth.

  “Gawain, please.” Forcing her chest tighter against him, she scrambled to center herself. Heat boiled within her until she was certain she’d explode. Trembling fingers shoved at his trousers, pushing the leather over his hips. Her fingers dug into his ass, one hand sliding around to cup his shaft. He lurched forward, his shaft throbbing in her palm. “Yes, lover. Gods above, yes. I want you. I want to belong to you.” She gasped.

  Her hips rolled with his, rubbing her aching clit against his shaft. She gasped at the feel of his scrotum slapping against her flesh. His hard cock pressed into her belly, the tip leaking pre-cum with each rolling thrust.

  Rough hands shoved her fingers from around his cock. “No, let me.” His guttural growl filled her head as he leaned down, his forearms catching her beneath her knees. Sensations flooded her as he moved slowly down her body, his mouth trailing across the bare skin.

  A garbled scream filled the room as he licked at the sensitive flesh between her legs. His tongue flicked at the tender bud, sending waves of pleasure slamming over her. Stars burst behind her eyelids, and her fingers dug into the pallet, her body shaking as wave after wave of her orgasm poured over her.

  “Now. Oh, please,” Bede pleaded, her body aching for more, the desperate need drawing her in. “I want to feel you in me, to feel you…”

  “Yes.” Gawain pressed a sharp kiss to her thigh, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat slicked skin before he moved up her body.

  She could feel the hot, hard press of his cock against her abdomen, the thick cords of muscle in his arms pressing against the underside of her knees. Her heart raced, every nerve on fire with each brush of his body against hers. The crisp hair surrounding the base of his dick, the curls dusting his chest, his nipples dragging against her body. She gasped for air, her eyes at half mast as she stared into his dark gaze. Control had fled, his body and hers rutting toward completion with only the thought of fulfillment in her mind.

  Undulating hips, grunts of pleasure, her body on fire, she clung to her lover, her voice strangled as she babbled almost incoherently. Desire flared, dancing, whirling, seducing her into the deepest throes of passion until she sobbed with need.

  She felt his hard cock pressing against her stomach, the head moist and swollen. It rubbed against her clit, his hand sneaking between them to guide it. Lost to the sensations of his possession, she whimpered, a lone tear sliding down her face as he slid into her. The pressure was intense, stretching her as he nudged deeper. Tightening her legs, she clung to him as he shook, his hips lurching several times. The hot wash of his seed seared her womb again and again. His roar of pleasure echoed in her ears as she flew apart, her body responding to his pleasure.

  Clinging to him, she trailed a lazy finger up and down his back, sweat pooling in her navel as he lay panting against her neck. She tensed when his fist pummeled the pallet next to her, fear pushing aside the remaining tendrils of satiated pleasure.

  “Gawain?”

  “I have shamed you. I couldn’t…”

  Bede pressed her lips to his temple. “You pleased me, my love, milord. What more could there be?”

  “But I did not penetrate— Gods, I spilled my seed too soon. I couldn’t even last long enough to—” He gave a shuddery breath, his head pressed against her shoulder.

  Bede wiggled, his softening member slipping from her body. Cool air ghosted over her nether regions, and she pressed kisses along his face. “You did. Rest, Gawain. Rest, for I will want you again and again. This is only the first time, my love. There will be many more of that, I’m certain.”

  * * * *

  Curled next to Bede, Gawain traced random lines along her bare shoulder. The scent of sex and woman filled his head. Exhaustion tugged at his mind and body, yet he couldn’t rest. The pleasure he’d felt at taking her was unlike anything he’d ever known, and yet he’d disgraced himself.

  He’d spent himself before he’d taken her properly. The feel of her hot depths milking the very tip of his length had pushed aside all his control. She deserved to have a more skilled lover. His eyes closed, the sensation of her maidenhead on the head of his cock washing through his memory, he felt himself harden, his length pulsing with pressure. A lifetime of lust burned through his veins, pooling in his testicles.

  Longingly, he palmed his hardness, his ardor building. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhaled. His scent mingled with hers, the aroma of sex flowing like water over him. A low growl rumbled through his chest when she stirred, rolling over, her legs falling open as she arched into his touch.

  Already he could taste her lust on his tongue, taste her need, and it stirred his own. He hardened until he ached, his body primed for mating. The faint reproach of his vow fading from his mind to be replaced by his throbbing need. There was no dishonor in embracing a mate, taking from the one meant for him. Licking at the pale flesh of her neck, he wallowed in her delicate shudder, in the moans leaving her lips.

  “Bede. Oh, Selene, help me.”

  “Yes.” Bede’s palm rested on his chest, her nails scoring above his racing heart. “Come with me.”

  Pushing aside his uncertainty, Gawain bent his head, his lips closing on hers as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. The rising moon would judge him, but for now, he would do what he could to please her, to claim the climax she, nay, they deserved.

  Chapter 10

  Sunlight filtered beneath the front door of the small cabin, drawing Gawain’s attention away from the sleeping woman in his arms. Beyond the door the sounds of life during the day filled the silence. The bleat of sheep, the sound of footsteps, even the smell of sun warmed dirt, but none held anything of great interest.

  Shifting, he sighed, his lips pressed to Bede’s shoulder. He needed to get to Una, to take her before the king, but what of Marshante’s warning of the double faced one?
And what of the king? Was Hema’s intent to use the child then kill her? No mortal had ever set foot within the halls of Drekens—at the very least, none who didn’t end up dying.

  “Confusing, isn’t it?” Marshante appeared by the fireplace. “You want to do as you have been ordered but doubts plague you.”

  “If I take her sister before my king…” Gawain tugged the cover higher over Bede’s shoulder and rolled from the bed, already reaching for his pants. He loathed the idea of being naked before the sorceress. “I will not risk harm to the babe, not when it would mean my chosen one would—nay, I cannot, will not do as I have been ordered if it means death to a child.”

  “He will not kill the child. Hema may be many things, but a child killer he is not. No, he knows more of this than he says. He knows her power, just as he knows he needs her too greatly.” Marshante settled on a stool, her pale visage drifting like smoke through the air.

  “What of my mate? To drag her to our world would mean her end. Hema may want the babe, but a grown woman? Nay, he’ll kill her, and if he does it will leave me empty. I would embrace the sun. Bede needs safety. I have a task. I should leave her…”

  “Here? Tsk tsk, warrior, even you must know she cannot remain here. There is danger here you have no idea of. There are humans who would harm her before you could return.” Marshante leaned forward. “Even now her father searches for them. Word has gotten back to him of their escape, and those of Luthgor’s ilk seek them. He must either retrieve the girls or hand back the gold and he’s not want to do it.”

  Gnashing his teeth together, Gawain stared at Bede’s sleeping form. His body ached with a mixture of fury and lust. Turning, he focused on the fury. It was safer, and it fed a ready temper. His mind raced with plans, many discarded like smoke before they’d reached fruition. “I must do something.”