Dreams of a Dark Warrior
Page 1
#1 New York Times bestselling author
KRESLEY COLE
PLEASURE OF A DARK PRINCE
"Consistent excellence is a Cole standard!"
--Romantic Times (41/2 stars)
"There are few authors that can move me to tears. Kresley Cole is one of them."
--Book Binge
"Kresley Cole's Immortals After Dark series does not cease to amaze me."
--Love Vampires
KISS OF A DEMON KING
"Perennial favorite Cole continues to round out her Immortals After Dark world with kick-butt action and scorching passion!"
--Romantic Times
"Kresley Cole knows what paranormal romance readers crave and superbly delivers on every page."
--Single Titles
"Full of magic, mayhem, sorcery, and sensuality. Readers will not want to miss one word of this memorable and enchanting tale. The closer to the end I got the slower I read because I knew once the story ended I would be left craving more of this brilliant and emotionally gripping saga. ... It is truly one of the most amazing tales Kresley Cole has ever released."
--Wild On Books
Dreams of a Dark Warrior is also available as an eBook
"Cole deftly blends danger and desire into a brilliantly original contemporary paranormal romance. She neatly tempers the scorchingly sexy romance between Sabine and Rydstrom with a generous measure of sharp humor, and the combination of a cleverly constructed plot and an inventive cast of characters in Kiss of a Demon King is simply irresistible."
--Reader To Reader
DARK DESIRES AFTER DUSK
"New York Times bestseller Cole outdoes herself. ... A gem."
--Romantic Times
"Kresley Cole is a gifted author with a knack for witty dialogue, smart heroines, fantastic alpha males, and yes, it has to be said, some of the hottest love scenes you'll read in mainstream romance. ... You're in for a treat if you've never read a Kresley Cole book."
--RomanceNovel.tv
"A wonderfully romantic tale of two people from the opposite sides of their immortal world. ... Everything I had hoped it to be and so much more!"
--Queue My Review
DARK NEEDS AT NIGHT'S EDGE
"Poignant and daring. You can trust Cole to always deliver sizzling sexy interludes within a darkly passionate romance."
--Romantic Times
"The evolution of this romance is among the most believable and engrossing I've ever read. Cole's Immortals After Dark series continues stronger than ever with this latest installment."
--Fresh Fiction
WICKED DEEDS ON A WINTER'S NIGHT
"Leave it to the awe-inspiring Cole to dish up a combustible mix of sorcery and passion. One for the keeper shelf!"
--Romantic Times (41/2 stars)
"Kresley Cole ... effortlessly delivers heart-wringing romance, likable heroines, hot heroes, and hotter sex ... set against an original and exciting paranormal mythology that keeps the both the story and reader speeding along from one high point to another."
--Love Vampires
NO REST FOR THE WICKED
"Sizzling sex and high-stakes adventure are what's on tap in mega-talented Cole's sensational new paranormal release. ... One nonstop thrill ride. Brava!"
--Romantic Times (Top Pick)
"Oh, wow! Kresley Cole writes another spine-tingling, adventurous, and passionate romance. ... I recommend readers grab a copy of Kresley Cole's No Rest for the Wicked today. It's a definite keeper."
--Romance Reviews Today
A HUNGER LIKE NO OTHER
"Intense action, devilishly passionate sex, and fascinating characters ... leads readers into an amazing and inventive alternate reality. ... Hot stuff!"
--Romantic Times (Top Pick)
"Rich mythology, a fresh approach, and excellent writing make this vampire tale superb."
--Fresh Fiction
BOOKS BY KRESLEY COLE
The Sutherland Series
The Captain of All Pleasures
The Price of Pleasure
The MacCarrick Brothers Series
If You Dare
If You Desire
If You Deceive
The Immortals After Dark Series
A Hunger Like No Other
No Rest for the Wicked
Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night
Dark Needs at Night's Edge
Dark Desires After Dusk
Kiss of a Demon King
Pleasure of a Dark Prince
Demon from the Dark
With Gena Showalter
Deep Kiss of Winter
Pocket Books
A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright (c) 2011 by Kresley Cole
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or
portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address
Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department,
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
First Pocket Books paperback edition March 2011
POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks
of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your
live event. For more information or to book an event contact the
Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit
our website at www.simonspeakers.com.
Cover design by Lisa Litwack
Cover illustration by Craig White Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN 978-1-4391-3680-5
ISBN 978-1-43917701-3 (ebook)
Dedicated with much love
to the amazing Roxanne St. Claire,
a bright shining star of a writer and dear friend.
Glossary of Terms
from
THE LIVING BOOK OF LORE
THE LORE
"... and those sentient creatures that are not human shall be united in one stratum, coexisting with, yet secret from, man's."
Most are immortal and can regenerate from injuries. The stronger breeds can only be killed by mystical fire or beheading.
Their eyes change with intense emotion, often to a breed-specific color.
THE VALKYRIE
"When a maiden warrior screams for courage as she dies in battle, Woden and Freya heed her call. The two gods give up lightning to strike her, rescuing her to their hall and preserving her courage forever in the form of the maiden's immortal Valkyrie daughter."
They take sustenance from the electrical energy of the earth, sharing it in one collective power, and give it back with their emotions in the form of lightning.
They possess preternatural strength, speed, and senses.
Without training, most can be mesmerized by shining objects.
THE BERSERKERS
"A berserker's lonely life is filled with naught but battle rage and bloodlust. ..."
A cadre of human warriors, known for their merciless brutality, who swear allegiance to Woden.
Stronger and faster than mere mortals, they carry within them the spirit of the bear and can channel its ferocity into a berserkrage, temporarily becoming as powerful as an immortal.
When a berserker wins his two hundredth battle in Woden's n
ame, the god will grant him ohalla--immortality with untold strength.
THE ORDER
"The immortal takers. Once captured by the Order, immortals do not return. ..."
A multinational mortal operation created to study--and exterminate--nonhumans.
Thought to be an urban legend.
THE VAMPIRES
The Fallen are vampires who have killed by drinking a victim to death. Distinguished by their red eyes.
Tracing is teleporting, the vampires' means of travel. A vampire can only trace to destinations he's previously been or to those he can see.
THE TURNING
"Only through death can one become an 'other.'"
Some beings can turn a human or even other Lore creatures into their kind through differing means, but the catalyst for change is always death, and success is not guaranteed.
THE ACCESSION
"And a time shall come to pass when all immortal beings in the Lore, from the Valkyrie, vampire, Lykae, and demon factions to the witches, shifters, fey, and sirens ... must fight and destroy each other."
A kind of mystical checks-and-balances system for an ever-growing population of immortals.
Occurs every five hundred years. Or right now ...
PROLOGUE
Hark! Hear this tale, the legend of Aidan the Fierce and Reginleit the Radiant One, a pair of lovers both bound and cursed by fate.
It begins, as many legends do, with a destined meeting--this one between an immortal girl who would never know death and a jaded mortal man who lived only to kill.
Theirs is a story of woe and warning. Take heed and listen well. ...
-i-
The Northlands
In ages long past
"So this is debauchery," Reginleit murmured as two guards led her into the mead hall of the notorious warlord Aidan the Fierce.
At twelve years of age, and newly quit of the paradise of Valhalla, Regin was certainly getting an eyeful.
As she and the guards wound through the crowd of hundreds of berserkers, she gaped at drunken warriors sparring in naught but loincloths while half-clad whores served ale, trenchers of meat, and ... other needs.
Luckily Regin's disguise would conceal her expression--and her glow. She rechecked her cloak with gloved hands. The hood was deep, falling far over her face.
By the light of the fire pits smoking up to the thatched roof, she glimpsed kissing, fondling, and some acts her young mind couldn't yet attach names to.
Yet none within this battlefront encampment laughed; no jaunty music could be heard.
Though they'd seized a bloody victory today--from the cliffs above the field, she'd observed their clash against an army of vampires--all the many warriors here seemed to be simmering, snarling even. Much like the bears these mortals revered.
Mounted bear heads with ominous fangs lined the walls. Viking glyphs of ravening bears decorated the rafters and doors.
Everything she'd ever heard about the uncivilized berserkers was apparently true. Her favorite half sister, Lucia, had once told her, "Berserkers are grim, covetous, and possessive, savage when faced with the loss of something that belongs to them. They are obsessed with war and intercourse--they think of nothing else. Even our older sisters avoid them."
Regin had known the risk in coming here, but she wasn't fearful. As Lucia had also told her, "Sometimes I don't think you have the sense to be afraid when you should." Regin had interpreted that to mean, "You have no sense of fear, oh, great Reginleit."
Besides, she had no choice. She needed the aid of these mortals. She was horseless and had barely escaped a vampire ambush just days ago. Her belly was empty--the trenchers of stew and haunches of venison atop laden tables made her mouth water.
And Lucia was in danger.
Reminded of her purpose, she straightened her shoulders. Since the berserkers were her father's guard, surely they'd be duty-bound to serve her as well. But if she met with trouble here, she wouldn't hesitate to use the long sword holstered across her back or even her claws. They extended through slits in the fingers of her gloves, concealed by her draping sleeves--
Two nearly naked warriors locked in combat lurched past her. Fights continued all around, brawls over women, wine, and weapons. These men fell into their berserkrage, with their eyes glowing and muscles burgeoning, at the smallest slight.
Fitting that this encampment had been built at the edge of a war zone. For decades, these berserkers had defended this strategic pass against an immortal menace, protecting the villages in the valley below; she began to see that anything keeping these men here on the battlefront--and out of civilization--was a boon.
As she and the guards wended deeper within, Regin stopped abruptly. A short distance away, seated atop a throne on the hall's dais, was a male she'd seen in frenzied combat earlier. One she'd watched raptly.
Considering his unmatched speed and power as he'd wielded his war ax, she'd suspected he was their leader Aidan.
A buxom brunette sat on the arm of his throne, serving him a tankard of drink and murmuring in his ear.
The wench's eyes were excited, her breath shallow. She thinks the warlord handsome? Regin's gaze flicked over him. Then the wench and I are in accord.
He had broad shoulders and muscular arms, his build as massive as a bear's. His blond hair was thick, some hanks plaited in ravels to keep them from his field of vision. He possessed all his teeth, and they were even and white. His sun-darkened skin made his wintry gray eyes stand out.
Today, when he'd been in his berserkrage, those eyes had glowed like storm clouds ablaze with lightning.
Now he pulled the woman onto his lap, no doubt to join in the debauchery. And lo, there he goes. ... He began to unlace her straining bodice.
"My liege, a moment," one of the guards hastened to say. To catch the warlord before 'twas too late?
"What is it?" Aidan didn't look up from his task of freeing the female's ponderous breasts. Once he'd loosened her bodice, his big hand dipped down to grasp one.
"This boy demanded to see you."
Boy. Males always assumed she was of their sex, simply because she wore trews and carried a sword.
Aidan turned, his gaze falling on Regin. "Who are you?" he asked, his deep voice booming. Throughout the hall, the enthusiastic skirmishes and fornicating slowed.
She answered honestly, "I am a weary traveler in need of assistance."
At her words, his brows drew together. "You sound ... familiar." He removed his hand from the woman's bodice and sat up straighter, his demeanor now tense. As if her very voice had set him on edge. "Though your accent is strange."
"Yours is not my first tongue." She spoke the ancient language of the immortals first, his Norse mortal language second.
"Come forward."
Though it nettled to take orders from a mere human, Regin stepped forth.
His gaze grew alert, assessing. She knew he was scrutinizing everything about her--her walk, the uncommonly fine material of her cloak, the gold brooch that clasped the hood in place.
The wench tried to reclaim his attention by cupping his face, but Aidan brushed her hand away. When she wriggled suggestively in his lap, he scowled at her and said something in her ear that sent her flouncing away with a huff.
But the woman couldn't prevent a longing glance over her shoulder.
For some reason, his dismissal of the buxom brunette gladdened Regin. She supposed she was merely relieved to have his full attention. "I saw you on the battlefield today, warlord. You fought well." As ever, her thoughts left her lips without any mediation. Lucia's words repeated in her mind: You have to learn to hold your tongue. You could try even a glacier's patience.
He leaned forward. "Boy, we are berserkers--we all fight well."
'Twas not true. She jerked her thumb at a young black-haired man to Aidan's right. "Not him. His guard's too low." Hold your tongue, Regin!
After a stunned silence, a few awkward chuckles sounded. Even Aidan grinned,
then seemed startled by his reaction.
The man she'd insulted shot to his feet and stalked closer, his green eyes narrowed. "I'll show you a low guard."
At once, Regin dragged her long sword from its sheath, raising it between them.
He gave her a look of disgust. "That sword's bigger than you are, cur."
"The better to teach you to raise your guard, mongrel."
As more chuckles sounded, the man's fists clenched, his muscles tensing, growing. ... Already on the verge of berserkrage.
"Stay your hand, Brandr," Aidan ordered.
Perhaps coming here was a mistake. These men were too violent and quick-tempered to aid her. And that was something for a Valkyrie to suppose!
Even Aidan, who had appeared to possess more control of himself than the others, now seemed to seethe with ... something.
And though the berserkers were Woden's guards, perhaps they would hurt her if they found out she was female. What would Lucia do? She'd leave this place anon without revealing herself as a woman.
"Boy, you are either very brave or very stupid to goad one of my strongest warriors," Aidan remarked. "Now, tell me why you've come to my hall." He tilted his head at her. "And why you've covered your skin like an aged druid."
Brandr grated, "The whelp probably had the pox."
Pox? She'd just stifled a hiss at him when Aidan said, "Enough." He rubbed the blond stubble on his chin. "Were you ill, then? Mayhap you haven't the strength needed to wield that long blade--or to taunt men bigger than you."
Regin's eyes went wide. "Haven't the strength?" She might only be twelve, and still vulnerable to harm, and 'twas true her blasted sword was far too big for her, but she could massacre all these mortals with tooth and claw if need be--
Brandr struck without warning, lunging for her. Before she could defend herself, he'd delivered two punishing blows to her wrist, knocking the sword from her grip.
When he straightened with a smirk, she gladly dismissed the weapon as her instincts took over. She leapt atop a table to her right, then bounded back to the left in front of him, raking her claws across his chest.
Gods, the feel of rending flesh ... what need have I for a sword?
Landing softly, she hunched low, ready to spring again as the towering warrior bellowed, "He carries hidden daggers?" He gaped at the deep furrows in his skin, slashes that had severed even his leather scabbard. "Aidan, his death is mine! Any taller, and he'd have slit my throat."