Her expression was one of shyness even as her gaze was turning hazy with reignited arousal. Kaitriana trembled under the graze of his fingers and lifted both arms to reach for him.
Lorcan adored the way she trustingly sought him and pulled her forward, guiding each outstretched hand to a shoulder. He took a while longer to allow himself the pleasure of studying her. Driving himself to the brink, he grazed a fingertip slowly from the curve where her neck intersected with her shoulder and on down the side of her breast. Journeying further, Lorcan traced inward at the curve of her waist and then stopped at the thin strip of material stretching over her hip. He toyed with it for scant seconds before pulling his hands back to tug his own shirt free.
Her desire was communicated in the slow sweep of her tongue over her lips as she watched him remove the garment and Lorcan nearly groaned aloud. His honor told him to give the girl time to adjust to her new life before claiming her but his instincts were riding him hard. Her lack of inhibitions with him did nothing to help him temper that need.
The massive expanse of his hard chest, marred only by the scratches she had actually left on his skin, and his disheveled dark looks made her mouth go dry. Lorcan peered down at her while casually tossing the ruined shirt aside, watching her eyes shimmer darkly. Kaitriana was restless on her feet and biting hard at her lips. She was about to shriek with her need and beg him to put that wicked mouth and those magical hands back on her as he picked her up. She was gloating in triumph until he gave her an admonishing look coupled with an order, “Behave.”
Lorcan tossed her into the center of the bed. Toeing off his shoes, he was beneath the covers before he met her incredulous gaze. With her curls tousled, wide-eyed and barely covered by the blue satin, she was innocent and sexy wrapped together in an irresistible package. By strength of will though, he would resist. Lorcan patted the spot next to him and grudgingly offered, “I suppose you can sleep here, if you can keep your hands to yourself Witch.” He grinned at her grumpy growl.
Petulantly, she took her time sliding over the offered spot and even more time slipping beneath the coverlet. Nestled quite nicely in the crook of his arm, she delivered a hard elbow to his ribs. Smiling innocently, her eyes were anything but when she answered his grunt simply, “You said hands.”
His laughter shook the bed and he held up his wrist in a peace offering. When she eventually accepted, he leaned over her, studying the beauty of her eyes until she was sated and her lids grew heavy. Lorcan locked her firmly against his side and stroked her hair until she found sleep. His thoughts returned to her words from earlier in the night regarding the events around her transition. He pondered each fact she had revealed and the potential ramifications associated with every one. The night stretched into late dawn before he joined her in slumber.
CHAPTER 16
The following three evenings passed in much the same way. While Lorcan was not reluctant to introduce his female to Vampire society, he was loath to relinquish the quiet peace he found each night in her company. He justified the selfish desire to keep her to himself as recompense for the hundreds of years he had been plagued with war and unrest during her absence.
Last night he had taken her to stroll along the edge of the lake when the moon was high. Kat had merrily teased him with outrageous questions regarding the Vampire breed. He had finally pulled her into his arms, laughter rumbling in his chest, after she put the question to him as to whether or not he was going to get on with ‘chomp chomp chomping’ her. Her eyes had been sparkling beautifully with mischief but there had also been a heat lurking beneath that he was unable to resist.He had kissed her breathless before taking his fill at her neck and she had been imploring him with nonsensical words to do more by the time he had released his bite.
Tonight Lorcan was pensive. He realized he would have to remove the little witch to a chamber of her own until she gave him her vows. He would be unable to resist her sweet begging another night and he refused to have her until she was rightfully his according to both Witch and Vampire customs.
This night she was a vision, returning from her bath in a garnet-colored flowing gown of silk. Her look was reminiscent of when Lorcan had first seen her at the Festival. The markings of her Warrior Caste were glaringly absent in the design though he noted that the dark blue of his colors were present in the pendant hanging at her neck. The pile of her long curls haphazardly atop her head left her neck open for him and allowed him to see the same dark blue in the gems sparkling at her ears. Kat stopped expectantly in front of him and he gave her a smile and a wink before he pulled her down to his lap in his seat before the fire. In the short span of their time together, it had become their habit to begin their evenings in this manner.
Kat pressed her back into his chest, entwining her fingers with his as she tucked her bare feet beneath the length of her dress. Her free hand was idly tracing the tattoo on his arm; it had become common practice since the Light faction had become a mixture of Witch and Vampire for the warriors to mark themselves with the arcane symbol of the Light. His was a few inches long and decorated the interior of his forearm. It rested just above the heavy band of silver he word on the wrist of that same arm. That piece bore the marking of the Elite. Unlike the marking of the Light, only Lorcan and his chosen guard had bands inscribed with that symbol.
Resting back against him, she continued to explore the mark, questioning, “How do you do this? With the healing ability of your kind, how do you make the symbol stay?”
Lorcan rested his chin atop her head, the little one had still not assimilated into her consciousness that she too was Vampire, “Our kind uses a bit of magic provided by the Witch. An elixir that greatly slows the healing process allows the mark to take hold before healing is completed. We use the same potion to mark our mates.”
Kaitriana nodded, taking note of his emphasis and feeling properly censured by the none too subtle reminder. She could not help that she was Witch and always had been. It was difficult to associate yourself fully with two entirely separate species, particularly when one had had such a short time to become used to the condition. Still, she adopted a demeanor that she hoped looked properly contrite as she turned to look up at him.
He laughed at her attempt, being remorseful was not her strong suit. She crinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out, as she had wanted to do in the first place. That brought another round of laughter from him, so she granted him a smile before she resumed her forward facing position. Lorcan’s fingers trailed over the silk of her gown as he nuzzled at her neck, murmuring, “Speaking of markings, where are yours, Witch?”
She stiffened and her head dipped low as she gave acute study to his hand. Finally, she cast a puzzled glance back at him. His question gave her the opening to discuss the very issue that had just caused him to deliver a reprimand.
Lorcan could tell by her eyes that she was not being contrary when she asked, “Am I still of the Warrior Caste? Am I Witch or Vampire? Does it really matter what breed I associate myself with or can I merely exist as both and be accepted by each?”
Shifting to face him more fully, Kat pulled her hand from his and moved it to cup his cheek, her words a coaxing whisper, “I think the question is really not about my breed. It is simple in my mind Lorcan…am I theirs…or do I belong to you? Should I wear their markings or am I to wear yours? Your mark is enough, is it not?” The blue of her eyes was inquisitive as she searched his.
He had not discussed the significance of the Vampire tradition of marking their intended mates and he had not intended to raise the subject to her quite yet. He remained utterly still for a time; the crackle of the blaze and the occasional sound of merry making drifting up from the great hall below were the only sounds between them. He finally cupped her cheek in return, his voice gruff, “You are mine, Kaitriana. Whether you call yourself Vampire or Witch matters not. I had thought to give you more time…”
Lorcan trailed off. He had wanted her vows – soon – but in his estimation ‘
soon’ would still have been many months more. Marking her to publicly proclaim his intention would have come later as well, after she had reintegrated herself into the Realm and reacquainted herself with the Witch. His expression was a mixture of concern, puzzlement and elation. Despite their connection and the past few evenings together, he was shocked that she so readily wanted to make his claim to her evident to all of the Realm by wearing his mark.
Finally, he managed to demand in words tinged with his disbelief, “You want this…now?” He could not help the dark flicker that crept over his eyes at the thought of marking her.
Kaitriana’s only response was to quirk a brow at him, as though he should know the answer without asking.
Searching her eyes a moment more, he nodded and then dropped a feather light kiss to her lips. He stood and lifted her with him before setting her to her feet. “First Kaitriana we will give you a brief introduction to the Vampire society below,” he had spotted her bare feet as he set her to the floor. “Go get your shoes.” He was actually now looking forward to taking her into the gathered Coven tonight.
Kat frowned momentarily before schooling her features into a mask of innocent confusion, shrugging, “I fear I’ve misplaced them Milord.” At his reproachful look, she offered honestly with a groan of defeat, “But I hate shoes.”
Having already spied the slippers beneath the edge of the bed, he moved to retrieve them. Returning to press them into her hands, he explained, “Some things must be Kat and your appearance tonight will require shoes.” She made a face, but with an exaggerated sigh she shoved them onto her feet. She had barely placed her now shoed foot back to the ground when he grasped her arms and spun her around to face him. His eyes were rich and seductive even as he mocked her, “Good girl.”
Kat would have delivered a good blow to his stomach at that moment if he had not caught her unawares again. Lifting her easily to crush her to him, Lorcan’s mouth dropped onto hers. His tongue sought immediate entrance. Lorcan dragged her back with him to his chair and laid her across his lap, never lifting his mouth. His arm cradled her shoulders in recline while he set his fingertips to painting patterns over her exposed skin. The cut of this particular dress dipped low; he did not resist the temptation but left his fingertips to explore her neck and shoulders and then dip into the neckline.
Her restless movements were driving him insane with want. His intent was to tease her only a little before he fed her. Capturing her wrist in his exploring fingers, he finally lifted his mouth from hers. Raising her hand, he pressed her fingertip against one elongated point, slicing the skin easily. Lorcan dragged the wounded tip into his hot mouth and sucked. Taking only a small sampling, he withdrew the tip and growled, “When I next take your neck, it will be to give you my mark.” His lips dusted hers with the promise.
Lorcan shifted her so that she was fully reclined and his eyes captured hers when he lowered his arm to her mouth. Her lips were swollen from his kiss and the tips of her little white fangs emerged from beneath when she opened her mouth for him. His eyes remained fixed on hers as she pierced his skin. Dropping a hand to the back of her head, he encouraged her to apply more pressure. Soothingly rubbing his hand through her hair, his voice was full of pleasure in response to her little whimper of delight, “Shhh…Kat, you can take a bit more.”
Kat was studying him, fascinated by the blackness of his eyes rimmed with that blue. She pulled his arm with her as she sank back further into him, continuing to slowly draw at the wound.
Lorcan let her have his arm for long minutes before he withdrew it, mindful to keep his wrist from her gown until it completed healing. Kat tucked her head closer, rubbing her cheek against his shirt, murmuring “Your eyes Lorcan…they are not normal for your kind.” He gave her a little squeeze and remained silent. Twisting in his lap she sat straight up, facing him, “They are like mine. When they turn, they are not solely the dark color of the Vampire breed.”
He was not ready to go where this conversation would lead, so he hoped his simple agreement would end it, “Yes, Kat, ours shift differently, probably an effect of the transition from Witch to Vampire.” He shrugged it off as though meaningless and attempted to tuck her close to him.
Kat resisted though, “It may be just that Lorcan, but as a witch mine would ring more brightly in blue when my magic rose. The trait has remained, coupled now with the blackness of the Vampire species.” His gaze had shifted deliberately to the fire, so she placed her palm on his cheek to gain his attention. Waiting patiently until he returned his eyes to hers, she prodded, “Could it be the same with you? Is there power in you still, magic?”
Lorcan stared at her for a moment, his gaze narrowing with annoyance. He had not anticipated that she would push the issue. No one had openly confronted him on the possibility of the existence of his magic in centuries; most knew better than to dare broach the topic. He stood abruptly and placed her on her feet away from him before he walked in the direction of the hearth, “Kat, I prefer not to entertain this discussion. The Warrior Caste,” he looked at her pointedly, hurtfully reminding her that she was exactly that, “has always attempted to propagate such a theory and claim me as one of their own. I expect you to adhere to my wishes in this and let the matter drop.” The injured look on her face gave him pause, but he continued callously to drive his point, “I am Vampire. No hoping from you simply because my eyes match yours will make me what you are.”
Since his mother’s death and his transition to Vampire, the entreaties from the Warrior Caste to claim his birthright had been incessant. Lorcan had grown resentful of the lot. He had reached the limit of his patience with their manipulations and their attempts to foster an allegiance towards the Caste that he did not feel. While he did not share a general antagonism toward the Witch as did many of his breed, his mother’s betrayal had wounded him and would not allow him to acknowledge the magic she had left with him. As a result, he had behaved more cruelly with Kat than he had intended.
Kat was biting at her lip and Lorcan had come to know in this short time that it signaled that her emotions were high. She was entirely too interested in smoothing the silk layers of her skirts and he knew it was so that he would be unable to see her face. He had upset her greatly and experienced a twinge of regret, wondering how long he would need to soothe her tears before he could take her to meet his people.
Kaitriana was in a great upset, so much so that her eyes were inky. She was hurt by his treatment, but she was also bloody well furious. His surprise over the lack of tears was obvious when she finally raised her face to him. The softness of her voice belied her growing rage, “Lorcan, did you mean you are not a Witch as I am? Or that you are not the abomination that I am?”
She leveled her blackened gaze on him and settled her arms over her chest, “There are but two in the Realm that have eyes that mirror both breeds. I am one and I have the traits of both. You are the other. You may deny to everyone in the Realm that you have power but do not think I will accept you keeping the truth from me.”
Lorcan’s eyes widened, stunned, before his face took on an irritated set. Any response was cut off as she closed in on him. The blue around her orbs seemed to grow with each step until it nearly overcame the blackness, “I can sense it Lorcan…I am the Chosen. If you want to hide it and not admit to what you are, that is your choice.” She pointed her finger at his chest, her voice near shouting with the last, “If you do not want to use the magic that has been given to you to the advantage of the Light… your choice. But do not lie to me, and do not dismiss me as though I am a child.”
His eyes were also pitch-black by the time she finished her tirade. The little witch dared to challenge him. Lorcan stormed the few steps that remained between them. Grabbing her chin between his fingertips, he forced her eyes to stay on his, “Do not presume, little one, ever to lecture me on my duties to the Light or any of my duties for that matter. I am what I choose to be and neither you nor any of the Witch will change that.”
&n
bsp; Kaitriana angrily jerked free of his hold, her eyes challenging, “You did not choose to be this, the choice was made for you.” Her hands were firing blue sparks in her anger. Raising them, she snapped her fingers in his face when she hissed, “I do not need to change you. You are what you were made to be. If you are unable to make peace with that, it is on you. You live a lie.” Another snap had blue sparks flying, “If you cannot be comfortable with what you are, how can you possibly be comfortable with what I am? I am that which you deny yourself to be.”
In her outrage, she waved a single glowing finger back and forth at him, chiding, “We are the same. If you feel the need to hide your true nature from your kind, how can I possibly feel that I may have a home with them? Your denial tells me that you believe there is something wrong with being what we are. You believe we are abominations.” Shouting, her eyes were overtaken entirely by blue light, “Deny it!”
Lorcan shadowed away from her to the door. He was shaken by her outburst, but moreso by the veiling of her eyes with magic. He had not witnessed that phenomenon since the Queens walked the Realm. His stony expression hid his feelings as he glanced over his shoulder and jerked the door open. His voice was cold, devoid of emotion, “You have not lived in my world Kaitriana; you have hardly lived in this Realm. You speak to things of which you have no understanding. I was willing to give up my seat in this Coven to keep you at my side but perhaps you should decide if you want that position before I abdicate mine.”
He waved dismissively towards the room, his tone menacingly soft, “Stay here. Even if Myrrdyn himself would make an appearance, I expect you to be in this room when I return. Until I decide otherwise, you are still my responsibility.”
Chosen: Book 1 in the Ancients of Light series Page 12
