Forsaken Heart

by Elise Whyles

  “Her safety lies within the realm you must go back to. Here she is mortal, weak, at risk of having her blood spilt by a zealous male. There she would be safe.”

  “Hema will not tolerate her in his court.”

  “True, but what need have you for his court?” Marshante rose to drift to him. “She is the eldest of the last of the line. A true daughter of Brooxa, of the Ohm Domm. To leave her behind would be to ignore your vows.”

  “I have forsaken all vows. What sorcery did you use last night, witch? I have spent eight hundred years pure, without worry of the lusts of the flesh, and in one moment, one heartbeat, I forsake those vows.” Gawain narrowed his eyes at the cackling woman, uncertainty and embarrassment heating his blood if not his flesh.

  “None. It was not I seducing you. Your beast simply rose, responding to the haunting cry of your mate to be possessed. You claimed her, Gawain. You took her blood, knowing you wanted her, knowing she stirred the fires within you, made your cock come to life. Was it as good as I’ve heard whispered? Was it sweet and rich? More tasteful than your cupped blood? Than the wine you drank so readily?” Marshante cooed. “Did it linger on your tongue, fill your mind with images? Hmm? What, no response for me, vampire?”

  Gawain waved a hand in her face, turning with a snarl. It was true. He’d felt a connection, a desire running through him. To drink of her, to take the innocent blood on his tongue, he had done the unthinkable. He spat a curse and whirled to glare at the smirking sorceress. Her words were truer than she could know. Bede’s blood was sweet, thick, rich, it bound them together in a way that none had ever teased him with before. He’d seen the mated, seen those claimed, and watched as his fellow soldiers had drank of their women, seen them fuck them during the celebrations, heard their stories, and it all paled compared to Bede.

  He would protect her, even if it meant leaving her. “Perchance, Selene will reverse this curse, will let her regain that which was lost.”

  “No.” Marshante eased past him. “Her place is by your side. The rise of Saltar himself would not change what has come to pass. The gatekeeper will await you two nights hence. Before you reach her, you will meet a young warrior. An equal. Hear his words, for he will guide you to what you must do next.”

  “I need no sunwalker to guide me,” Gawain spat.

  “Now why would you assume such a thing? Do you think only those cursed to burn eternally would stand in your path? He is no sunwalker.” Marshante paused before the door, her body already beginning to evaporate. “Old foes will become new allies, and in their courage you will find that which you seek.”

  Gawain rolled his eyes at the muddled message, his mind drifting to the coming nights. He would need gold, more than they had, to pay for the opening of the gate. He had nothing more than what he carried. Save for her dagger? His eyes fell to it for a moment before he pushed aside the thought. No, he would not betray her by taking that which she held so dear.

  “Gawain?” Sleepy, Bede’s satisfied voice rose around him.

  “The sun is still too high. We go in a few hours. Sleep, Bede, sleep for now.”

  “I am no longer tired. Where is the sorceress?”

  “Gone. She has left us here to seek her penance.”

  Bede frowned as she pushed her hair from her face. “Penance?”

  “Rest, our journey will begin tonight and it will be hard. You’ll wish you’d rested.”

  “I am thirsty.” Bede licked her lips, rising from the bed.

  Gawain flushed at the sight of her full breasts, her narrow hips, the long scratches of his claws tracing over her pale flesh. Like a wild beast in rut he’d taken her twice, yet she’d not complained. Nay, she’d responded freely, wildly. Soothing any worries he still held over coming too soon during their first mating.

  “I’ll get you a drink of water.”

  “Nay.” Bede grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into the flesh above his gauntlets. “It is not water I seek.” She purred, lifting his hand to her lips. Nuzzling into his palm she met his eyes. Licking at his thumb she nudged him until he spread his fingers, her mouth closing over the tender skin between his forefinger and thumb

  “She does not have…” Gawain’s breath rushed from his lungs. Pleasure raced through his veins with each slow grind of her jaw as her teeth sank deep into his flesh. His eyes rolled back in his head, his knees threatened to buckle. Each slow suck reached through his body to stroke along his hardening cock until it was a physical ache.

  “Goddess, you need…”

  “Delicious.” Bede licked the scarlet liquid from her lips, her eyes heavy lidded as she appraised him. “So much better than water, milord.”

  “Damn my soul to Stylox. Woman, you cannot do this.” Gawain ground against her, his hand tangling in her hair, his eyes narrowed. Lust raced like wildfire through him. “You are mortal. Do you not realize what you’ve done?” He spat a curse. No, there was no way she could know. “By drinking of me, you may become ill. Humans are not meant to drink of the flesh.”

  “Mortals it seems are not meant to do much at all. Besides, milord, I think it foolish to call me a mortal human when we both know I am not,” Bede whispered against his lips. He could feel the hardened nipples poking against his chest, the sway of her hips as she rolled them against his hard shaft. “Surely I am of some use to you. Do you not want to crawl back into the bedding? Spend a few pleasurable hours before the moon rises?”

  “Bede, gods above. Even now, there are those who would hunt me. Who would hunt us both. If I thought for a moment…”

  “Who? Who would dare risk your wrath by hunting us?”

  “Dragons, Saltar’s followers, there are the demon races…those with something to gain would hunt me. Your father even now seeks to find you, so we cannot discount him.”

  “I would rather die feeling alive than live without seeking all I can,” Bede returned, her eyes flashing wildly. “Do you think I do not see? That I do not know what you are? It is beyond such trivial things. In these crazy times there is naught we can do but cling to that which is ours. I am yours! In body and soul. To deny me is to deny you.”

  “I will not risk your death!” Gawain roared. “I serve a king who would kill you for but breathing!”

  “You breathe. You have always breathed. What does it matter if I do or not?”

  “I did not breathe. It is a trick of my kind. The hunter must be able to walk among the prey, Bede. It does not matter now. We will rest, and at sunset we will head north. We will seek this gatekeeper and I will find your sister. If it is the last thing—”

  “Una is lost to us for now.” Bede pressed her fingers to his lips. Her eyes swam with tears, pain locked within their depths. “We must do what we can to save ourselves. Rest? Nay, I think we will not rest this day.” Bede took his hand, tugging him back toward the bed. “We are but pawns, milord. Let us enjoy the peace at least for a few moments,” she whispered, her hand cupping his shaft and squeezing.

  “You would tempt even the stoutest of wills, Bede. I can barely resist you now, to go further—”

  “Gawain, stop protesting.” Bede pressed her lips to his. “You are already lost.”

  Gawain groaned, his body responding to the softest touch, to her gentleness. He offered a weak growled protest when she pushed him back onto the bed, her legs straddling his hips.

  He palmed her buttocks, his fingers splayed as she rocked along the hard length of him. Shuddering, he moaned at the pleasure, the melting heat of her core seeping through his pants to moisten his cock. With a rough jerk, he pulled her down, his mouth taking hers in a wild kiss meant to tease. It was truth she spoke.

  * * * *

  Staring through the branches of a weathered tree, Liam cursed the Fates once again. The road was blocked by a pair of travelers, and only years of experience and training revealed what a mortal would never see. Trapped in a seeming mortal shape he was no match for the vampire standing in his path. Eyes narrowed, malice dripping from his fangs, t
he Vamp shoved a young woman behind him. Liam watched him draw his sword, the blade flashing in the moonlight.

  Her long, dark hair fluttered in the breeze, but it was her eyes that held his attention. Dark, wide, they held a secret awareness, a knowledge that reached deep into him. He tensed at the low, furious snarl that shook the night. Instantly, his attention refocused on the main threat.

  “Let me pass,” he ordered. His hand on the hilt of his sword felt heavy. Why had Draconi given him this task? It was better suited to one trained to deal with the bloodsuckers.

  “You dare to look upon my woman.”

  “I looked upon no one, bloodsucker,” Liam denied. “Let me pass so I may deliver my missive and return to my hunt.”

  Liam’s attention caught when the woman stepped away from her master. Her steps were quiet, as though not to attract attention. Was she one of those poor fools who willingly lived to serve the vampire? Pity if she were, as pretty as she was. Her plain shift did little to hide her curves or the bloodstains along the neckline. She smiled, a slow, steady shift of her lips to reveal white teeth, and the beginning of an impressive set of fangs.

  Liam grunted at the heavy weight of a blow to his midsection. His breath exploded when he hit the ground, his hands catching him before his face hit the ground. His eyes focused on the vampire standing above him, his sword at the ready. He glared at his attacker, and his hand grappled for purchase along the parasite’s leg. Catching him behind the knee, he jerked him off his feet and clambered back up. Growling a warning, he could feel his fire growing, the rage pushing against the bonds that kept him in human form.

  Teeth lengthened, sharpened, as his fist connected with a solid jaw. Cursing in his native tongue, he pummeled the vampire. His blows deflected. He roared as he soared through the air, landing in a tangled mass of limbs and branches. Jumping to his feet, he pulled his sword, his instinct screaming for him to shed blood.

  His head spun as the vampire traced to him, slamming into his temple with the hilt of his sword. Unlike any other vampire he’d battled, this one didn’t seem inclined to go for a kill. The vampire fought with claws, with sword and dagger, with his fists, ripping and shredding the flesh along Liam’s torso until the air was thick and heavy with the scent of blood. Roaring in pain and fury, Liam renewed his struggles. Catching the vampire around the throat, he threw him at a massive tree, watching it crack down the center as the vampire hit it. The vampire scrambled to his feet and sneered at him.

  “So the bloodsucker thinks he can destroy me?”

  “I think you’re hardly worth the effort, hatchling.” Blood splattered across the ground from the cuts on the vampire’s lips. “So weak you cannot even transform. Rather pathetic.”

  Liam swung, his blade kissing the throat of the woman who stood poised, her dagger in her hand. “Your pet is as foolish as you,” Liam snarled. “Let me pass and your whore will go free. Try my patience and I’ll slit her pretty throat. By the time you get to her, even you won’t drink of her blood.”

  “Nay,” the girl panted. “Gawain, ’tis not—”

  “Silence, woman.” The vampire lowered his sword. “We shall meet again, dragon. And I will be less inclined to show you mercy then.”

  Liam narrowed his eyes, realization slicing into him. “Oh Bollox, you’re Gawain, the king’s servant?”

  “Aye, I am.”

  “I swear if his lord wasn’t so keen to slide into the mother’s bed…” He broke off. “I am to tell you there is one within Hema’s court who wears two faces, one your king sees and one which will betray you all if given a chance.”

  “Who is she?”

  “I cannot tell you what I do not know.” Liam shrugged. “Now, if you please, take your harlot and let me pass.” Ignoring the indignant sniff of the tart, he strode past them, his mind already wandering to where he could find the one he sought.

  “Wait!” The woman’s voice halted him. “Please, tell me if this woman will put my sister at risk. We heard—”

  “Only if she is within the court. Beyond the walls of Drekens those who serve will likely be safe. Mark my words, girl, even you are at risk. If the traitor doesn’t get you, your master’s clan will. They do not tolerate mortal flesh.”

  * * * *

  Bede watched the stranger vanish with a growing sense of unease. Deep within her mind she could feel the icy touch of fear. Yet it was not her own. Turning, she stared at Gawain who refused to meet her eyes. Reaching out, she touched his arm, only to wince at the fear that ripped through her.

  “I do not fear your clan.”

  “How can I protect your sister and you if I know not who—”

  “There is but one way.” Bede swallowed, her eyes burning with unshed tears. “You must not go after Una. Swear to me, Gawain, you’ll not seek her out. If this threat is real it would only end with her demise.”

  “And what of you?” Gawain demanded. “What shall I say or do to keep you safe? He is quite right, my clan will destroy you. Only a few mortals have ever been brought to court, and they were usually killed in short order.”

  “I am not mortal, Gawain.”

  “Nay, you’re something far worse. You’re vampire-bred Forsaken. Twice as dangerous to the king for he will hold you accountable for another’s faults. There are warriors sent to kill those who show signs of remembering their ancestry, Bede. I would not wish that for you.”

  “Then we will prepare,” Bede snapped, his fear a heady sensation that did little to sooth her. “I am not so weak as that, milord. Should they try to kill me, they had best be prepared.”

  Stalking past him, she ducked beneath a branch. Faint, irritating, the rumble of hunger filled her ears. Was it him? A glance over her shoulder revealed Gawain’s scowl, his brows drawn together into a frown. There was no sense of hunger from him, so it was her. Painful, it clawed at her. Swaying on her feet, she leaned against a tree, her eyes closed as she gasped for breath, a hand pressed to her stomach.

  “By the gods.” Gawain was beside her in a flash, his hand soothing on her shoulders.

  “I do not understand, I was…” Bede bent over, her stomach twisting, her body wracked with heaves. Each time she felt Gawain’s hand smoothing her hair back, his warmth next to her.

  “’Tis the Hunger, Bede. You need to feed but there is no one about. Come, the sun is not set to rise for hours. If we hurry, we can seek shelter and you can feed. I will find you that which you need.”

  Bede nodded slowly, her fingers squeezing Gawain’s. It had struck so quickly, her body demanding what she needed but was not aware of. Straightening, she met the concern in his eyes. “You wish this had not come to be.” It wasn’t a question, and she swallowed against the pain in his eyes.

  “Aye, if you were not touched by Selene’s hand, you would have no need to be seeking to end the Hunger. Nor would you be feeling the pain of the sun’s curse. I would rid you of both if it were possible.”

  Bede nodded, there was nothing more she could say. His regrets were not for her presence, but for the pain she suffered. Like it or not, it was a price she would gladly pay over and over again if it brought her one step closer to the joy she’d come to know in his touch.

  Chapter 11

  Selene stared at the gathered gods looming over her, a sinking sensation in her stomach. How could so many be so foolish? Did they not see what was before them? If one could turn against their own creations, why would they not believe they could turn against another’s?

  “So you offer no assistance?” Selene straightened in fury.

  “’Tis a conflict for immortals. Let them deal with their own strife. Even now, we are losing power because—”

  “You are a fool, Zeus. Worse, you’re a coward,” Selene spat. “You lose the prayers of your mortals, so you must find ways to regain their loyalty. Yet you have forgotten that without the immortal beings you would have nothing! You have grown foolhardy and lazy in your old age.”

  “Be still your tongue, you are
not so powerful that I can’t rip it from your throat!”

  “To do that would mean acting, and we both know you will not. No, you hover about like milling cattle. Debating on which mortal to seduce, which war to watch and leave to the mercy of that bitch, those who have time and again aided your cause for centuries.”

  “Selene, you are wrong.” Athena glanced at Zeus. “We cannot interfere in the happenings within their realms. We have no say, no power. How can you expect—”

  “My sister is quite right, Selene. There is naught we can do if we wish to retain our place within the halls of our world. To enter another’s domain is to risk war. Let the immortals deal with this discontent themselves.”

  “Do you think she will be content with the immortals? Nay, she will come for your precious pawns in short order. If you doubt me, ask Nerafail, he will tell you of her true disposition.” Selene pointed to the hunched back figure cloaked in shadows. “Fools. You wallow in your insignificant games, I intend to do all I can to save my people.”

  “You forget, Selene, you were brought into this world so your lover could be with you. You’ve already incurred the displeasure of Apollo. Do you wish to go against all of us?”

  “I intend to save the lives of those you have forgotten, Hera. Just as you have forgotten your own children, your demi-gods, your bastards, you can sit about and play with your pawns. I will not risk the extermination of an entire race just to satisfy the whims of a petty goddess who has the lot of you by your cock!” With a final glare she stormed from the room. There would be no dealing with a bunch of foolish, trivial gods, even those who had given her life.

  A glance out the window revealed the sun was nearly set in the realms of Earth. With a sigh, she slipped from the massive palace into the back of the waiting chariot and lifted the reins. A soothing drive through the night sky would calm her.