Immortal Skye (Vampire Mates)

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Immortal Skye (Vampire Mates) Page 7

by K. L. Bone


  His name falling as a constant whimper from Julia’s lips, Rónán suckled her thoroughly before dipping a finger in her inner passage. The tight, wet greeting as she clamped around him ended his attempts at slow seduction, and he pulled back enough to move up her body. When he reached her lips, he captured them fully, his taste now mixed with hers as Rónán maneuvered to slide between her legs, shifting until his rigid shaft met her opening.

  “Please, Rónán,” she whispered, pushing her hips against his in an attempt to create the friction her body desired.

  “I want to watch you, Julia,” he growled. “Your sweet expression as I plunge myself inside you so deep, you’ll know nothing other than the thrust of my body filling you. I intend to love you until you can’t speak, can’t think, can’t breathe without me being a part of you.”

  Julia did not respond, merely kept her eyes wide as she watched her lost love poised above her, his hard flesh teasing her entrance, but refusing to enter.

  A shallow thrust of his hips pushed his tip inside her, causing her to whimper and thrash, yet he held still, denying her the full satisfaction she craved. “Slowly, Julia.”

  She shook her head, unable to speak as he pulled out, only to ease himself back in an exquisite inch at a time, drawing out the pleasurable torment.

  “Please!” she begged. “Mo leannan!”

  At her plea, Rónán gave a rough thrust, burying himself fully inside her tight inner channel. She clamped down, body writhing around him. Rónán gave a gruff cry. Pulling back, he surrendered to their shared passion, setting a rough rhythm as his body plunged in and out of Julia’s.

  “Rónán!” she repeated his name, the cry drawing him to greater pleasure. Reaching down, his fingers found her clit, stroking as he continued to press inside. The touch pushed her over the edge, causing Julia to cry out in sweet release as she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her lips to his neck, her fangs carefully sinking into his skin to draw blood, the taste sliding down her tongue.

  He cried out at the bite, thrusting harder as he rode her pleasure toward his own, plunging as deep as he could until succumbing with a groan and spilling himself deep inside his lost love.

  Rónán collapsed, breath stolen by the intensity of the act, before managing to roll them both to their sides, groaning as his withdrawal caused her to thrash beneath him.

  With a happy sigh, he wrapped his arms around Julia, delighting in the touch of her skin against his own. When he felt her tremble, he pulled her closer.

  “Are you all right?”

  “No.”

  Shifting, he coaxed her into turning to face him, while keeping her in the circle of his arms. When he saw her miserable expression, his heart crumbled.“Julia, I meant it. I’m glad you never returned. You got away from him, and what they did to you.”

  “But I never came back for you, Rónán.”

  “You did all you could, Julia. I promise, I don’t blame you. I’m sorry for my earlier behavior. I wasn’t angry, I simply…”

  “Had no idea what to say?” she supplied, moving a hand to cup his cheek. “Neither did I.”

  He kissed her, the touch gentler than the heat of earlier passions. Moving to his back, Rónán pulled his love partially atop him, running a hand down her back, and through her wild golden tresses.

  “I’m here, Julia,” he whispered. “Please, my love, don’t cry.”

  “I’ve hated myself for so long, Rónán. For giving in to their enchantments. But more than anything, for allowing them to harm you. I stood there and watched them use you. Once I realized the truth of what I had done, I expected you would never forgive me.”

  “I haven’t ever, not once, blamed you, Julia. Never you.”

  Julia struggled against the daylight, fighting preternatural sleep.

  “It’s all right, mo ghràdh,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

  “Don’t leave.”

  “I won’t,” he promised, soothing her as he had done millennia before. “I promise, Julia. I promise.”

  Chapter XIII

  Present Day

  Isle of Skye, Scotland

  Blooming consciousness brought along memories from the night before. Julia stilled, fearful of turning to find the encounter a dream. Or worse, that Rónán had fled with the morning light. Tension eased as Julia was greeted by her love’s deep tones speaking her name.

  “You stayed,” she voiced in relief.

  “I promised I would.”

  Julia relaxed against him, enjoying the simple act of being held in the arms of the man for whom her heart eternally ached. A thousand thoughts flicked through her mind, cautions that this was a mistake. There had been too many centuries, and too much heartache, placed between them. Yet as she listened to the steady beat of his heart, the rhythmic thumping quieted her fears.

  Pressing a kiss to her temple, Rónán whispered her name, sensing her desire for the touch she had long denied herself.

  Julia was uncertain how long she lay there basking in his proximity before a knock at the door caused her to glance up. “Who’s there?” she called, hoping the visitor was a maid, or anyone she could dismiss sight unseen.

  “Lucas, my lady.”

  Reaching for a blanket, Rónán secured it around them without otherwise moving before calling for the named guardsman to enter. Lucas, to his credit, gave minimal acknowledgment at finding the two lovers lounging against each other, aside from the barest hint of a smile, which creased the corners of his normally stoic expression.

  “Lady Julia, your father calls. He asks you come in formal attire.”

  “Formal?” Rónán inquired.

  Lucas stared down, not quite meeting the eyes of the couple. “Marcus Black is here. He arrived last night, right before dawn.”

  “I see.” Julia was attempting to gather her thoughts to form a proper response when Rónán answered for her.

  “Tell Lord Skye she shall attend him shortly. I’ll escort her in myself.” He paused, meeting Julia’s gaze. “If the lady will allow?”

  Julia nodded, grateful when Lucas left the room, returning the two lovers to their chosen seclusion.

  “Do you love me, Julia?”

  Surprised by the question, but she did not hesitate. “I do.”

  “I shall stand with you, my lady. By your side, your father’s power be damned.”

  She wanted to argue, to demand he remain behind, but could not. They’d been separated long enough. Instead, she kissed him, a chaste promise of mangled hearts, then rose to answer her father’s summons.

  Chapter XIV

  Present Day

  Isle of Skye, Scotland

  The strike of her heels echoed against the stone floor as Julia was escorted not to her father’s chambers, but to a far more formal area of the castle. A self-proclaimed throne-room, her father’s mahogany chair sat atop a short run of stone steps, the ancient gray blocks chipped by time, yet still foreboding in the dimly lit room.

  Lord Skye sat in the carved chair, appearing out of time, in a crisp white shirt covered with a regal blue cloak, compared to the four contemporarily dressed bodyguards lining the staircase.

  No modern weaponry was permitted within the formal chambers, so after surrendering their side-arms, Rónán and Lucas had escorted Julia inside, carrying only their ancestral blades. They moved about halfway into the room, and stopped, all three taking a knee in an exaggerated display of respect.

  At her father’s command, Julia stood and approached the stairs while Lucas and Rónán moved to guard the room’s door. Her heels clicked, the echo especially loud in the otherwise silent chamber. Sweeping back her golden locks, Julia observed the man standing on the stair’s opposite side.

  With shoulder-length golden hair, Lord Marcus Black was taller than his deceased brother. Yet he had the same sharp cheekbones and ice blue eyes. His face was expressive, anger radiating through his very being, with every ounce falling upon her. Julia resisted the urge to step back, remaining perfec
tly still under Marcus’ glare.

  “Lord Black,” she addressed him with a stiff bow.

  “Julia Skye.”

  “To what do I owe this honor?”

  “You’re well-aware of why I am here.”

  Julia drew a breath. “Your brother’s death warrant was agreed upon by both the clan masters, and pure-blood families alike, my lord. If you insist upon holding such rage, I suggest you direct it toward the horrendous acts your brother committed, which left the families no choice but to end his life.”

  “You stand here, a confessed murderess of my brother, a man who cherished you for centuries, and dare to denounce his memory?”

  “I speak only the truth, my lord. Caleb’s actions were his own. I pleaded and begged him to find another path—warned him of the consequences. He continued his reign of terror, in spite of my pleadings.”

  Marcus stepped forward, but was stayed by Lord Skye’s voice. “You will keep peace under my roof, Lord Black. Punishment on the Isle of Skye is determined by me alone.”

  Turning from Julia to the vampire lord, Marcus barely contained his anger. “This woman has unapologetically taken the life of a member of the Black family. A family as ancient and powerful as your own. I demand you surrender her to face justice, and allow her to be taken to France to answer for her crimes.”

  “Julia is a daughter of Skye,” her father stated, his cold demeanor an icy contrast to Marcus’ fiery tones. “If she is to face consequences for any actions, she shall do so here, upon the isle.”

  “She married into the Black family. An act consummated before your very eyes. She is therefore under my power, not yours.”

  “That marriage ended with Caleb’s death.”

  “A death she caused!”

  “Silence!” Lord Skye commanded. “You forget to whom you are speaking. You are on the Isle of Skye, Lord Black. A fact you will do well to remember.”

  “Forgive me, Lord Skye.” He bowed, a slight motion. “I only argue in outrage, as a grieving brother, for the wrong committed against my family, and the life stolen from us.”

  Silence followed, the powerful vampire lord contemplating. “You are correct, Julia has acted in an egregious manner. Stealing a life from the family of another pure-blood line, outside of a formal declaration of war between houses, is a sin, which must be answered for. However, Julia is also an immortal daughter of Skye, of the purest bloodlines in our great families. Taking her life would neither return your brother, nor benefit either of our ancient lineages. Rarely does advantage come from revenge.”

  “So I am to be denied?”

  “Vengeance? Of course you shall be denied. Such base emotions are the driving force of lesser evolved creatures, would you not agree, Lord Black?”

  Black stiffened, shoulders rising in a motion which might have been missed by mortal eyes, but was clearly visible to the gathered vampires. “I cannot argue with this fact, my lord. However, you must also agree it would be equally barbaric were people not held accountable for their actions and, when the crime merits, punished as necessary to preserve order.”

  “I would,” he answered smoothly. “However, as my daughter has already pointed out, your brother was under a death warrant. Therefore, in carrying out the order to end his life, she has committed no crime for which punishment can be justified.”

  Marcus parted his lips, fangs flashing in primal anger. “So I get nothing? She will be allowed to hide behind the protection of Skye?”

  Julia repressed the urge to gasp. After his lectures and stern demeanor, was her father actually…protecting her? The possibility left her speechless.

  Then her heart plummeted.

  “My daughter has committed no crime, however, she has failed in her duty to provide your family with a promised heir. Since she has now also taken an immortal life from the Black family, I suggest we rectify this transgression by allowing another member of your family to produce an heir with her, permitting Julia to both fulfill the obligation which was part of the original marriage agreement, and to replenish the bloodline.”

  “I shall do no such thing!”

  “My Lord Skye,” Marcus interjected, “do you honestly believe it agreeable for me to marry another member of my family to your daughter, after she’s killed my brother?”

  “I do not speak of marriage, simply the provision of a child. Such child does not have to be the heir to either bloodline, but will be a member of both families.”

  Julia’s lips parted, staring at her father incredulously. Giving a hard swallow, she managed to say, “You are offering me as his whore?”

  “His mistress, Julia. We do not use such crude terms within these walls.”

  “A broodmare, you mean?” Julia shook her head. “As you point out by your own admission, Father, I have committed no crime. I am no slave nor chattel. What makes you believe I would ever agree to this? This is ludicrous!”

  “You are my daughter, and only as such will the Black’s hand be staid. You have taken an immortal life from their family. You shall spend your nights in Black’s bed, until the balance has been restored.”

  “I will not!” She ventured closer to the steps to meet her father’s gaze in challenge. “I have lived outside of this isle for centuries. Since the day my own father handed me over to a monster. I shall never submit to such debasement again. How dare you presume I would!”

  “Under my roof or not, you still bear my name, and have never lived without the protection of your bloodline. Try me, Julia, and you shall learn. You left Caleb before fulfilling your obligation. I should have summoned you home then, and now regret failing to do so.”

  “And done what?” she spat. “Tied me down for him every night?”

  Her father met her gaze head-on. “If I must.”

  Julia glanced to Marcus, whose anger now appeared tinged with lust, his tongue moving to lick his lower lip.

  “I believe this arrangement may be amenable to satisfy our plight,” Marcus stated. “Provided an heir is actually produced, of course.”

  “One shall be,” her father spoke of the arrangement as though his protesting daughter were not in the room.

  “No,” she repeated. “Never again.”

  “You have no say in the matter, Lady Skye.” He waved a hand, and several men moved forward. Julia stepped back, closer to where Lucas and Rónán stood.

  “Lord Skye,” Lucas interjected, “your daughter is correct. She has committed no crime. What you propose is not duty, Sire, but captivity, and rape. You have no grounds to force this upon her.”

  “As I previously stated, her desires are not a factor in my decisions. Neither are your concerns.”

  Lucas slid a hand to his side, toward his sheathed sword, the silver hilt wrapped in leather to prevent the toxic metal from burning his skin. “Forgive me, Lord Skye, but I stood aside once and allowed your daughter to have her will stripped from her. I have no intention of allowing such actions to take place again, if it is within my power to stop them.”

  Skye looked at the knight with a bored expression. “Do you honestly think you can protect her from me, Lucas?” Skye shook his head. “You were among those charged with my daughter’s protection once, so I shall forgive this outburst, but only if you step aside.”

  “I won’t,” he answered, other men moving from the stairs in his direction as Lucas withdrew his weapon.

  In front of Lucas, others unsheathed their own blades as they closed in.

  Moving to him, Julia resisted the urge to glance at Rónán, who had remained silent through the exchange, and instead turned to Lucas. Drawing an unsteady breath, she placed her right hand upon his, which was clutched around the weapon’s grip. “Stop,” she spoke softly. “You can’t fight them all, Lucas.”

  “I promised.”

  “And I thank you for that, but a pointless death helps no one.” She looked at him sadly as Lucas relented, lowering his arm to return the weapon to its scabbard.

  “Don’t harm him, Fath
er. Lucas was merely keeping a promise to a Lady of Skye.”

  Her father’s expression was unreadable. “Tell Lucas to step aside, and I shall forgive the transgression. If he does not…” He allowed the implied threat to linger.

  “Julia, I don’t—”

  “It’s all right, Lucas. Do as he asks.”

  “I can’t allow them to force this upon you. Not again.”

  “Please,” she touched his arm in reassurance. “It’s all right.”

  This time, he reluctantly stepped back, tension lessening, though not fully dissipating as he did so.

  “Walk to Rónán,” she whispered, motioning Lucas toward the other man.

  Julia stepped toward the dais, heels clicking against the stone floor.

  Marcus moved on the other side, attempting to watch Lord Skye, but his eyes occasionally slipped to Julia, whose skin crawled with each heated glance.

  “I see you have come to reason,” her father stated.

  “I do not consent to this, Father. However, none should die pointlessly either. Especially not one who has proven his loyalty to this bloodline through thousands of years of service.”

  “On this, Daughter, we agree.”

  “Lord Skye,” Marcus said, “if I am truly to be granted intimate rights to your daughter, I request to exercise such liberties now. A token of good faith between our families, especially given your daughter’s verbal protests.”

  Julia eyed the room, deciding she would be unable to escape so many of her father’s men. “Do you intend to have me transformed into a complete whore, Father?”

  “Mistress,” he corrected again. “I have already warned you against such foul language.”

  “If you have me stripped and fucked in your throne room, before all these men, I can assure you, Father, a whore is the politest way to state what I shall become.”

  Her father rose from his chair to descend the steps with deliberate intent. “You will be escorted to your chambers, where you will be accommodating to the demands of Lord Black, and shall continue to be so each night until his child forms within you.”

 

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