Well, he wasn’t going to put her on the fucking floor again, was he?
His beast snarled at the woman, but the man contained it.
Mia was his only hope.
His sole source of aid.
He shuddered, as he relinquished his hold on Lara once more. Her hair, so silky and the color of roasted chestnuts, spread among the furs topping the bed. She looked so pale against the sable skin, so small and weak when she’d always been a powerhouse of energy. A welter of strength.
He wanted to cry at the sight of her but knew he had to remain strong.
She needed her mate. Not a sniveling whelp.
Remy curved a hand about his shoulder, pulling him close. The brotherly hug dragged him from the stasis he’d fallen in as Mia recruited the Queen, and the two began stripping his leman of clothes.
“The venom, it gets on the clothes,” Mia bit off as she worked.
“Venom? What venom?” the Queen and Remy demanded simultaneously.
“Daywalker venom,” Mia explained. “It’s the only thing that weakens us. But it’s so rare for them to attack a nightwalker. It hasn’t happened in my lifetime.”
Arista shook her head as she peeled off the leather-like leggings Lara wore. He should have been angered at so many people seeing his mate naked, but his beast was traumatized. Too tormented at his mate’s state to care.
She was dying.
That was all the beast knew.
Dying, like everyone he’d ever loved.
Leaving him alone. Endlessly alone.
A chasm of horror broke open at his feet. It would take so little to topple into it. To fall, to cease to be.
Neither man nor beast would survive her passing.
He faced death.
And it wasn’t with fear but with welcome.
There was no life without Lara.
He’d avoided it, avoided her and the bond, when he should have embraced all she offered.
His stubbornness had caused this.
She’d have been safe in the other realm if it wasn’t for his obstinacy.
He’d done this to her.
“Daywalkers have one sole protection from nightwalkers—it’s to keep them safe from nightwalkers taking advantage of them. When they bite, they have venom. Nightwalkers have a kind of serum that heals the puncture wounds they make as they bite. Daywalkers caused this. And she’s been bitten so many fucking times too,” Mia whispered now that Lara was nude, and they saw the extent of the attack.
Her arms and shoulders looked like they’d been gnawed on by an angry pack of dogs.
He shuddered at the sight of her. His leman… she was dying.
Leaving him.
“It drips onto the clothes, leaving patches behind.” She pointed to red marks on Lara’s chest and thighs. “It’s corrosive.”
“What do we do? How do we save her?”
Mia ran a hand over her forehead. “I’ve only heard of two things that do it. But it’s so rare that I don’t know if it actually works or if it’s just legend.”
“You have to try,” Remy urged. “Leman, she looks like she’s dying.”
Mia’s glance was loaded with sadness and pity. Pity for him.
“She is, Remy. She is.”
“Then do it. Even if it’s a legend, you have to try,” Arista demanded, her words a decree.
Mia shuddered. “For every bite, I’ll need a nightwalker.”
Georgios stirred from the numbing agony befalling him. “The humans said twelve assailants attacked her.”
“There were witnesses?” Remy and Arista said at the same time, but Mia and Georgios ignored them.
“Twelve? Jesus Christ. I need twelve nightwalkers willing to donate blood.” She turned to Arista. “We need your help.”
Arista nodded, stared at Georgios with a stoic kind of sadness—the Queen knew this kind of agony like no other—then strode off to do as Mia had bid.
It would be hard getting volunteers. He’d made many enemies in the kingdom. Uncaring of his rebellious and difficult behavior, which led to unpleasant interactions with the other House Heads for Remy, he’d never given a damn.
Had never thought it would matter.
Regret overwhelmed him again.
This was his fault.
If no one would come to Lara’s aid, it was because he’d been a bastard all his life.
There was no point vowing to the Mother he’d change. Mischief was in his nature. Once upon a time, it had caused laughter in the kingdom. Now, it caused concern, rolled eyes, and discomfort.
But then, just as the chasm at his feet grew wider, as Lara began to fit once more, her weak limbs flailing and her body jittering like an electric current flowed through her veins, noise came from the door.
Women fluttered in, men too.
More than a dozen.
Two dozen.
Three.
And they weren’t there for gossip, because their Dragon mates would be there too.
Instead, it was just the Vampire lemans.
At the sight of them, Mia called out, “You’re older than I am. Is it true the only way to save her from daywalker venom is to take her blood and replace it with a nightwalker’s?”
A woman stepped forward. Regal, graceful. Her beauty was renowned around the kingdom, Magda, mate of Linden Seamus.
“Yes. It’s true. Is that what this is? A daywalker attack?”
Mutterings stirred at her question.
Mia nodded. “I can think of nothing else. No other reason for her state or the signs of attack.”
Magda approached the bed, and then neared Mia. She placed a hand on Mia’s belly. “You are with child, you cannot take the venom into your blood.”
Mia winced. “I have to help.”
Georgios stirred, because even in his desperation, news that Mia was with child brought hope for their people like nothing else could. After generations of nothing... A ‘ling, once more, was a gift from the Mother. “No. Mia, no. I won’t allow it. That ‘ling is our hope.”
Arista’s voice was grim as she confirmed, “He’s right, Mia.”
At his side, Remy tensed then shuddered with relief. Georgios couldn’t blame him. Didn’t.
Remy wanted to help Georgios, but he didn’t want his mate or ‘ling to suffer in the process.
Magda murmured, “It isn’t necessary. We can all draw some of the venom from her veins to reduce injury to ourselves, and the ones who aren’t tainted, can donate blood.”
Relief cast over Mia’s features, but it was nothing to what Georgios felt. “You’d do that? For me?” he asked, his voice a hoarse rasp as he sent a desperate glance Magda’s way. Her smile was beatific as she approached him. A magnificent redheaded beauty with skin like white marble, and eyes like green fire. She stroked his cheek. “You’re a naughty boy, Georgios, but I, for one, am always happy to help an imp.”
Agreement fluttered from the doorway where the women had gathered. They were older than his mother, some of them, and had seen him from birth to the bastard who stood here tonight. They surrounded him in their motherly affection, their attention, and then, they turned it on his mate.
Eleven women strode forward from the crowd. He knew them all, absorbed the pity and hope cast equally on their faces as they knelt beside the bed.
It was the most bizarre sight he’d ever seen in his admittedly bizarre life.
His mate was naked on a bed of furs. Women surrounded her, beautiful in their court garb, their refinery adding to the insanity of the moment. The Queen watched over proceedings with a calm bemusement, and then, the women struck.
They latched onto Lara’s arms, her thighs. Two even bit the fleshy mounds of Lara’s breasts.
He’d heard of porn. Had been curious on his many forays into the other realm this month past, and had seen sights that had him stunned.
This beat it.
It was like a bad lesbian porn flick. Except, there was no sex involved only the resurrection of his leman.<
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At first, Lara didn’t react.
Silence. Endless, drugging, deadly silence.
Then, she howled.
Georgios reacted instinctively. He leapt forward, desperate to get to her, but Remy held him back. No matter how hard he struggled, no matter how hard he lashed out, he was restrained.
The howl was endless. It was loaded with agony and terror and distress.
It killed him.
Like a knife to the heart, it robbed him of his life as she stared, blankly, at the stone ceiling, that piercing, ceaseless wail pouring from her lips like blood from her wounds.
Then, she stopped. Just like that. From the cry of someone being tortured to an endless silence that was somehow worse. The Sanguennas kneeling beside the bed fell backward. They were knocked flat against the stone slabs. Their coloring all turned pasty as their bodies processed the venom, as they helped save his mate.
The Queen stared at all the fallen lemans with horror, frozen as she witnessed something Georgios didn’t doubt had never been seen before. Especially in this court. The Dragons in the room were all inactive, unable to do anything but watch as Mia stepped over the slumped women, tore at her wrist, and placed it over Lara’s mouth.
Blood seeped past his leman’s lips. Twice more, Mia had to tear at her skin as the healing serum in her bite mended the wounds. Then, as enough blood brought Lara back from the brink, his leman grabbed a hold of Mia’s arm and bit down with a ferocity that spoke of a ravenous hunger, one that couldn’t be quenched by a single feeding.
Mia flinched, closed her eyes and shakily leaned against the wall.
“Another!” Remy cried out as Mia began to shake, and he rushed over to her, grabbing her and taking her out of Lara’s reach.
Georgios’s leman snarled with her hunger, and the sight had him dying inside because he’d never felt more useless in his useless life. “Can’t I feed her?” Georgios shouted fearfully. Mother, there had to be something he could do to help, surely?
“No. Only a nightwalker can feed her when she’s like this,” Mia whispered faintly, her eyes fluttering as though she were on the brink of passing out. “She needs the healing serum.”
“Hush, leman,” Remy whispered, rocking her in his arms as he hauled her into his chest. “Rest. All is well.”
A woman stepped forward, Handeni Loria, and Georgios studied her, watching with a grimace as Lara struck the minute she was beside the bed—scenting fresh prey, stronger, with more lifeblood. More of what she needed. Craved.
Ten more times this happened. Each time, Lara was frenzied. Each time, the lemans staggered back, some stumbling to their knees, others using the wall for support as Mia did.
As the twelve fell back, the frenzied feral state his mate had fallen into was shaken off. Much like a wet dog cast off water, she reared upright, the only bright-eyed Sanguenna in the room. Still, she wasn’t his Lara.
He could see it in her face.
She was no longer frenzied, true, but the deep calm he’d come to associate with her wasn’t there either.
He didn’t understand why until she stared at him.
Arista cleared her throat. “She needs you, Georgios.”
He stared at his mate then at his Queen. “It breaks protocol.”
Arista winced. “Yes. I know. But this is different. We can relax the rules for once.”
Though Georgios usually grated at the court’s many rules and regulations, Arista always had been fair with him.
A fact that had caused a lot of consternation among her people, considering what his father had done to their race.
Her willingness to be flexible stunned even him at that moment.
This was more than just breaking protocol. It was completely turning the mating ceremony on its head.
Still, what choice did they have?
None of this had gone according to plan, had it?
Mother, if it was, then Lara wouldn’t be his mate. She’d still be in Seattle, and he’d be about to have a Danish pastry with her.
Rubbing a hand across his jaw, he nodded at Arista. Spying the concern on his Queen’s face, he acted with unusual politesse and bowed deeply and lowly, trying to impart his gratitude. When he figured he’d stared long and hard enough at the floor, to please even the sticklers in court, he retreated upright.
She was smiling at him. Amusement and warmth coiling around one another as she let him bask in her regal acceptance.
Amusement because that was probably the first and last time he’d ever been so gracious, and warmth because, for whatever reason, she had a soft spot for him.
To the two dozen women who had saved his mate, he said gruffly, “I can never repay you for your service. What you have done leaves me in your debt.”
“It leaves our House in your debt,” Remy backed up, his voice louder than Georgios’s and with deeper intent. “Your spouses may seek a tithe from me as thanks for your willingness to aid one of my own.”
The offer of a tithe caused a bustle of chatter among the ladies, and Arista cocked a brow at Georgios’s House Head.
Georgios just clapped Remy on the back in gratitude and took a step toward the bed.
At the move, Lara tensed. Her eyes flashed silver. The way they’d done when she’d supped from him. Those were her nightwalker’s eyes. His own flashed amber when his beast was at the front of his nature. That didn’t happen too often in public, but it happened with surprising frequency when he was with Lara. He knew because he could feel the break in his control, and though most of the people in this room would deny that he had any self-control at all, he was actually a very rigid man.
Unfortunately for Lara, that was mostly what she’d seen of him these past weeks. His lighter side, his more jovial sense of humor, had been stripped back.
Why?
Because he’d been torturing himself by sitting with her.
He’d suffered with the knowledge that she was his for the taking, and yet, she could never be his either.
That had all changed now.
Now, she was his whether he wanted her or not. And of course he did, but it wouldn’t stop him from feeling fear for her.
He had to keep her safe.
He had to prove to the rest of his kin, as well as the other Houses within the kingdom, that he was not like his father.
He would worship the ground his mate walked on.
If she’d let him.
Their eyes caught and held for a long time, until she looked away, a glance tracking the last person to leave the chamber, to leave them alone. She flashed her gaze back to him, and he saw her hunger sweep over her. It turned her usually pale flesh a light dusky pink. Arousal had her nipples turning hard, the peaks standing upright, and he could scent her need. Mother, his beast reveled in that particular scent that was unique to her. He’d known it before, had tasted her essence in the air at the coffee shop, but that was nothing to having her close and naked.
Shuddering a little as his beast responded to her scent, he felt everything in him react to everything in her. “Mother, you pack a punch,” he whispered, bowing his head to maintain control. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her after everything she’d been through.
He’d almost lost her.
Mother help him.
The agonizing thought was like a kick to the balls. But that was almost all that counted. He’d spend every fucking day showing the universe his gratitude for saving her. For bringing her back to him.
“Need. You.”
The guttural words sounded like they were torn from her, and he studied her, saw the ravages of need eating at her and threw himself into the madness.
She was suffering, something he’d never wanted for her.
He would ease her pain.
How self-sacrificing, he thought with a swift, relieved grin as he immediately toed out of the loafers he’d worn to the human world, shrugged off the blood-soaked sport’s jacket and tugged his sweater overhead. Next came the shirt and then the
tailored pants and belt.
She licked her lips when he unfastened the fly, and his cock popped out from between the mouth of the zipper.
He could tell she wanted him with a hunger that was bestial.
He shuddered at the thought, wanting her to take everything she needed from him. That was imperative.
When he stood there naked, she rolled onto her knees and presented her ass.
A little stunned by the maneuver, his brows rose in reaction. Then, he saw the flushed petals of her sex, the dewy juices that made her slick with hunger, and could do no less than moan at the sight of her.
Lady Mother have mercy, he thought to himself as his beast began to claw at his insides, demanding he top his mate, make her his.
Now.
He shivered, trying to claw back the reins of his control, but it was no use when she turned her head back to look at him and caught him with that silver gaze.
He leaped onto the furs, ignoring the scrape of wood against the stone floor and the heavy thud as the bed frame collided with the wall. He pounced on her, covering her, not stopping until his chest covered her back, and his hips were nudging against her core.
His cock found a happy spot—right between her nether lips—but he didn’t sink in deeply. Not yet. He lifted his hands, cupped her dangling breasts from above. They were a heavy weight in his palms, just the right size—overspilling his hands. Her hard nipples rubbed against his rough calluses, and she moaned, head falling forward at the relatively innocent caress. He squeezed one, palpating it. The other, he pinched and rubbed. Tugged and shaped with his fingers. Not stopping until she was rocking her hips back into his.
He growled out a warning, his mouth dropping down to her nape where she was injury free. He held her there with his teeth in place, and she let out a mewl, which was hardwired into his fucking system. Every part of his body responded to that sound, just as every part of hers reacted to the dominant move.
He moved on to teasing her other nipple, but with his other hand, he slipped along the gentle curve of her belly and maneuvered between her thighs.
Leman Page 7
