As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long.
CHAPTER 43
Jada had never been so disoriented in her entire life, and waking in an unfamiliar bedchamber didn't help matters.
Swiftly, her eyes cracked open as she sat forward, gasping in a breath that felt like her first in hours. As reality set in, everything seemed somehow unusual, like she'd tapped into Novak's hard liquor again and had a hangover.
But instead of a drunken fog, her current haze was aggressive.
Still, the reason for it didn't take long to surface when she noticed a set of fangs in her mouth and sharp claws on her fingers—Dra'Kai. The dragon had sired her as a member of his House, and after taking notice of her black claws, she glanced down to see several glowing slashes winding across her shoulders and down around the sides of her chest.
“Oh goddess!” she gasped, quickly reaching to her temples to find … horns. I'm in Wrath!
Jada was so stunned by the discovery she almost forgot about wondering over her current location. Still, it wasn't hard to guess that this was Rinora's lair in spying a golden wyvern statuette sitting on a nearby table.
Furthermore, that statuette called to her. It's so … shiny!
Something in her coveted the valuable, to the point of wondering who owned it so she might find a way to barter with them. It was such a random urge, but one she couldn't deny, and didn't want to.
The dragon blood now running through her veins was certainly the catalyst of such desires, and it was even critical of her surroundings—which were lavish enough to be suitable. The silken sheets covering her body and the canopy above the bed with sheer drapes added an elegant touch, but the most enjoyable part of all was a specific scent filling the air that stood out above all the rest.
The moment she realized it was coming from behind her, Jada looked back to see her mate stretched out across the sheets, just as naked as she was. Propped up against several large pillows, one of his arms was stretched out as if he'd been holding her in sleep, and something deep inside her stirred at the thought, not to mention the sight of his muscular body on such intimate display. Oh my.
The desire she'd felt in response to seeing the statuette was nothing compared to the raw need surging through her for the man sleeping so peacefully next to her now. It honestly wasn't much different from her perception of Dalris as an everyday elf, but Wrath painted those desires in a new light—and Jada knew she wouldn't be satisfied until she'd taken him. Screw the gold!
The instinctive fixation was so strong she didn't even realize she'd leaned over him until she was drawing a hand across the sinew of muscle in his bare chest. Unable to resist, she leaned in, drawing her lips over one of his pectorals, tonguing a nipple before moving lower across his rigid abdomen.
Briefly stopping to kiss his navel, she shifted her body downward with every intention of waking him in the most erotic way possible. So when his cock hardened in response to her kisses, she had no compunctions over grabbing it in a firm squeeze.
That's when a lusty growl sounded—his growl—and goddess, the sound alone made her wet.
“Jada,” he rasped, sitting forward on an elbow. “Are you—ah! Fuck yes!”
His exclamation came when she drew her tongue across his shaft, making sure to catch the moisture at the tip before greedily sucking it into her mouth.
In response, he cupped the back of her head, lifting his hips as she stroked her tongue all along his length. The only thing Jada wasn't sure of at that point was whether the hungry growl she heard was hers, but it must've been because Dalris moaned her name at the same time.
“Gods, I love your hot little tongue … !”
She truly hoped so because she'd never get enough of the way his hard flesh felt against it, and the louder his moans grew, the harder she moved.
Soon, he was on his back, writhing for her in absolute bliss—and still, she wanted more.
“Ungh, I'm already close, las'ira!”
Jada almost moved faster at his declaration, ready to experience the satisfaction of giving her mate more pleasure than he could stand. But two things stopped her, the first being his endearment.
Now that she was a draconian, she instinctively understood what las'ira meant. Of course, Dalris had explained it in the shrine, but the meaning she took from it now was different—it wasn't my fortune, it was my mate.
Yet she didn't possess enough rational thought to question it just then, too busy recalling how he'd denied her an orgasm at the shrine in favor of driving her insane with pleasure—and she couldn't let him get away with it.
So she stopped and sat up, quickly moving to part her legs over his lap while leaning in for a bruising kiss.
That's when she realized he'd gone into Wrath as well, and couldn't stop herself from kissing her way to his temple before drawing her lips across one of his large horns.
He growled in response, gripping her ass tight once she'd grasped his erection to position until it was wedged just inside her, then murmured against his ear, “I don't think you need to come. You haven't had enough yet.”
Sitting back to spy a wickedly sexy grin on his face, he remarked, “I should let you in on a little secret.”
“Hmm?”
Slipping a hand up to grasp her nape, he pulled her in until their lips were a breath apart and growled, “I'll never get enough.”
At that, Dalris pushed his hips up, sinking his girth between her thighs at the same time he sent a brief shock of electricity into her. As a result, her muscles clenched, body tensing—but certainly not in pain.
Instead, her blood sang with the current, enlivening her as the shocks tingled across her skin.
The moment he stopped, she nearly collapsed against him with a surprised moan, urging, “Do that again!”
Growling on a low, sexy voice, he demanded, “Ride me for it, las'ira.”
Sucking in a breath, Jada lifted her head to hold his gaze, and started rocking her hips over his lap. Her heart skipped at the pleasured groan he let in response before capturing her mouth in a hard kiss that muffled her moan.
Their bodies pressed together in the process, and as she rolled her hips harder, Dalris pushed up to meet her. In turn, their lips broke and foreheads met, panting in unison as the pleasure quickly rose to overwhelming heights.
With it came a flood of emotions, the connection she felt to him too strong to stop herself from crying, “I love you, Dalris!”
Proving he was just as lost, he lifted her with little effort and turned her over. Jada landed against the pillows with his big body covering her—and he wasted no time driving inside as if he couldn't fuck her hard enough.
Mindlessly, she dug her claws into his back, which seemed to make him even more frantic, her name filling the room with his own declarations of love. It was wildly passionate, uninhibited, and as their bodies worked together, Jada seized up beneath him without warning.
Her orgasm overwhelmed her suddenly, and the moment Dalris felt it, he finally gave her another brief shock. Like before, the electricity was invigorating, making her body hum with contentment. But combined with her release?
Somehow, the sensation redoubled that pleasure, drawing it out until she was bucking and crying his name in surprise. Each wave wracked her body so intensely she almost wished it would end just so she could catch her breath—but Dalris wasn't showing any mercy.
As she screamed his name, he held her down, growling against her ear as his hips pounded between her legs until he came, flooding her body with warmth in a sensation too good to describe.
And she knew such raw passion had completely ruined her—not that she'd ever give it up.
As her release finally faded with her mate collapsing against her trembling body while uttering his love into her ear, she quickly realized she wouldn't have to. Their love wasn't wrong, nor would it lead to despair, and there was nothing left to stand in the way of sharing her life with the man she adored, or seizing the things that made her h
appy.
Combined with her utter satisfaction, the thoughts had Jada in tears and holding tight to Dalris as he rolled onto his side, knowing she could do no less.
And she intended to keep him close every step of the way.
Dalris collapsed over his mate with a low groan, and though his release left him reeling, he still found the strength to roll to the side with Jada secure in his arms, silently vowing he'd never release her.
And when she nuzzled his neck and clenched her fingers into his back, he knew she'd never let him go, either.
The thought offered an immeasurable amount of contentment—yet her sniffling cut through his euphoria like a knife.
“What's wrong, las'ira?” he asked, quickly lifting his head.
Jada's Wrath had faded with her release, and she soon whispered softly, “I'm just so happy with everything.” Swiping a hand beneath her cheeks, she finally looked up and added, “After all I've done … all we've done, it just feels like I'm precisely where I should be.”
Realizing her tears were those of joy, Dalris smiled and swept a hand over her hair, murmuring, “We both are. But tell me, does that mean you're feeling fine as a draconian?”
She thoughtfully pursed her lips, then smiled and admitted, “It's a little strange, but I'm better now that the Wrath has faded, and I know I'll stay that way as long as you're with me.”
Grinning, he promised sincerely, “You'd be hard pressed to get rid of me.”
“I hope so,” Jada returned, leaning up for a sweet kiss.
Yet she seemed to recall something specific because, in sitting back again, she changed the subject by mentioning, “Oh, before I forget, I wanted to ask if we could spend some time here before going back to Terra. We still need to make sure Adravi finds a flight, and I'd like to catch up with Papa.”
“Of course,” he agreed easily. “But … do you actually want to live in Terra?”
She shrugged casually. “Why wouldn't I?”
“I recall you stating my home was smaller than expected for one.”
Her eyes widened as if she'd forgotten saying such a thing, but she soon smiled. “I was just trying to pass off an air of indifference. But the truth is that I adore your home—”
“Our home,” he interjected.
“Okay, our home,” she amended, “and besides, I was thinking … ”
Trailing, Jada gave him a sentimental look that bordered on uncertainty, prompting him to ask, “What?”
“Well, if it's not too soon, I thought we could try for a baby when the sterility potions wear off.”
By the time she was done speaking, her eyes had misted over with tears again, proving she was elated simply to have the chance—and he certainly wasn't going to deny her.
Cupping her cheek, he murmured, “I love you, and I always will, las'ira, so we can try however soon you'd like, whether it's in two months, or two decades.”
At that, he claimed her mouth in a kiss meant to show her just how deep his love went. Jada melted against him in turn, their passionate embrace leaving them breathless by the time their mouths broke contact—not to mention needing more.
Yet she chose that moment to whisper, “By the way, you lied.”
His brow wrinkled in confusion. “About what?”
“You told me las'ira means my fortune, but it actually means my mate.”
Realizing her instinctive knowledge of the language had kicked in, a grin split his lips. “That's true. It does, technically, mean my mate, and the word for fortune is agir.”
Now she looked confused. “Then why did you tell me differently?”
Holding her gaze, he answered gruffly, “Because we consider our mates to be the ultimate fortune, so ira eventually became a homonym.”
Her lips parted with an enlightened, “Ooohhh.” Then she grinned, qualifying thoughtfully, “I should start calling you … las'osar.”
My fate. Smirking, Dalris replied, “I can live with that, las'osari ira.”
Snickering, she gazed at him with a staggering amount of love in her violet eyes. “My fated fortune?”
Unable to stop himself, he kissed her once more, rolling her over in preparation to make love again before stating the immutable truth.
“You most certainly are, Jada … .”
EPILOGUE
Dra'Kai Estate
Atlanta, Georgia
It was amazing how far Terran technology had progressed during the past half century alone.
After spending roughly seventy years in a forced hibernation, Mathias woke to a world that seemed strange—which was no surprise. He'd willingly hibernated a number of times over the course of his long life, and it always took time to adjust to the changes once he woke.
Still, his latest hibernation hadn't lasted that long—seventy years was a drop in the bucket to a five-thousand-year old vampire such as himself—making the adaptation easier to handle. So he hadn't spent long surveying the streets of Atlanta and the numerous technological improvements the people now enjoyed.
Instead, he'd returned to Terra for a more personal reason, and proceeded to the Dra'Kai Estate not far outside of the city in order to visit an old friend—Dalris Vök Dra'Kai.
Mathias hadn't spoken with the draconian since the 1940s, and soon found that, unlike the rest of the world, his home hadn't changed much with time—not on the outside, anyway. The grounds were as perfectly kept as they'd always been, with various spotlights shining up at each tree lining the long driveway to the front doors.
There, Mathias' body solidified from the form of mist he'd taken for faster travel, and he straightened his tie before reaching out to ring the bell.
Only moments later, a mortal butler answered, inquiring on a British accent, “May I help you?”
“Yes, I'm Mathias. I've come to see Dalris Dra'Kai.”
Without hesitation, the older man nodded in recognition. “Yes, you've been expected. However, I'm afraid he's away on urgent business, and his departure is indefinite.”
“I see,” Mathias started. “Should I reschedule?”
“You may, or if you prefer, his sister, Victoria, is currently managing his affairs in his absence, and she's available.”
Hearing this, Mathias took the latter option. He didn't know Victoria quite as well as Dalris, but was better acquainted with her than his other siblings—and she would have just as much information on the upcoming Vampire Order of Nightfall as Dalris did.
Still, he wondered where the draconian might've gone, and once the butler invited him in and offered to take his jacket, he inquired, “Do you have any idea what Dalris' urgent business concerned?”
Handing his jacket over, the man draped it across an arm and replied, “I wasn't privy to the full story, I'm afraid. We were simply informed to expect a new lady of the household to accompany him when he returns.”
“Truly?” Mathias asked, surprised. Had Dalris actually—and finally—located his mate? Considering how old he was, Mathias could admit to some curiosity over the matter, though he didn't ask the butler, allowing the human to depart and alert Victoria of his presence if only because she could explain things more easily.
In the meantime, he waited in the foyer, looking around with the thoughts in mind.
As a vampire, Mathias would never find such a partner. Instead of forming a bond with someone automatically, his kind established relationships through blood links, and those could be avoided if one was careful with their associations—which he always opted to do.
As it stood, Mathias had a single vampire child—his daughter, Maddox—and he'd worried enough for her safety to last ten lifetimes. So he definitely didn't need the complication of worrying for a lover who could be used against him.
Yet, in some strange way, the thought that Dalris had located an eternal mate evoked a sense of jealousy. Mathias didn't regret his decision to distance himself from any mortal with the potential of becoming an eternal lover, yet he'd wondered what it might be like to have such intimate
companionship if only because it was something he'd never truly experienced in his long lifetime.
Nor did he expect to.
So there was no reason to consider such matters further, and he endeavored to push the topic from his mind—which wasn't actually necessary.
Still waiting in the foyer, a surprisingly delectable scent unexpectedly caught his full attention—blood, and not just any blood.
Fae blood.
Mathias suppressed a groan at the tantalizing aroma, forcing his fangs into submission rather than freeing them. Of all immortal races, fae were by far the most tempting to vampires—even one as old as himself had trouble with impulse control when they were around.
Such thoughts had him reluctant to give into the urge to learn where the scent was coming from. Yet he wasn't mindless, and after five millenniums' worth of practice at self restraint, his control was much better than most.
Besides, the luscious scent was growing stronger, and turning his head right, he realized this fae was right around the corner. So he stepped to the entryway of the corridor between the stairs and canted his head to catch a brief glimpse of not one, but two fae now entering what he recalled was Dalris' private gallery, completely unaware of his presence.
Though fae could sense life, the dead evaded their perception, putting them at high risk from vampires—particularly when most didn't care to practice self control. Indeed, the ease with which his kind could sneak up on a fae meant more of them had died at their hands than any other immortal.
But he had no interest in hunting a meal, nor did he want to startle the immortal women. He was merely curious—encountering any fae was a rare event—and allowed his body to shift into vapor before entering the gallery to find them standing near a tall display case.
Inside it was a long, bladed staff made of gold with a number of sparkling jewels encrusted in the hilt, and while the women seemed rather drawn to the item, Mathias barely paid it any attention.
Instead, his gaze was rapt to the brunette, her long, chestnut hair shimmering as if made of silk. The dull points of her ears jutted through it, and though he couldn't see her face, something about her was … intriguing.
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