by Kim Knox
A stone lodged in my chest and the fiery lick of anger from my beast told me I’d just disturbed its happy, satiated state. “You…?”
“Zara said it. I was the weak point in their plan.” He let out a slow, hot sigh, rivulets of water coursing his face. “I would’ve knelt down to you in the hall and taken you as my queen.”
The pain in my chest bound tighter. Damn it, how could it hurt more than thinking he didn’t want me? My throat ached. In a time that could be counted in minutes, the sun would’ve sealed our union and our future stretched out. A province, tanao, children, daughters. I crushed my eyes shut, bleeding tears into the flow of water. Jager would have given me daughters…
“Tate…”
I wanted to hate him, punch him, make him hurt as I did but it would be pointless. Nothing I did would change my fate. “The sun will take away the regret for you.” I ran my thumb along his bottom lip. “Maybe for both of us.”
“I…”
He wanted to apologize again, but the hard press of my thumb stopped him. “I can feel the pull of the sun, Jager.” I stepped back from him, out of the hot jets of water. Cold air robbed me of heat and I shivered. “Time to welcome the new year.”
Chapter Five
I grabbed a couple of towels on my way out of the bathroom. Stalking across the bedroom, I struggled to wrap one around my body, but only succeeded in tangling myself up in the soft, white material. I swore and lashed the bloody things to the floor, kicking them for good measure.
The towels landed with a soft thump on the tangled sheets of the bed.
Warm, damp hands landed on my shoulders and I jumped. “Those evil towels,” he murmured. He wrapped a soft towel around my back, tucking it under my arms and over my breasts. His hands slid down, gently rubbing the towel against my wet skin.
Tears leaked again. Damn him. I didn’t want his humor or his kindness. Affection from Jager made everything worse. “Is this what you do when you’re with your escravo? Treat each fallen queen as if she still has some remnant of her power?”
Jager pressed his lips to my shoulder, the light prick of his teeth pulsing fresh need through my veins. His tongue curled over the shallow wound. He sighed. “I freed them. My new year’s gift to them and to you.”
“You freed them?” My heart twisted and the bloody man had me crying again. “Really?”
Jager turned me to him, his hand smoothing the towel soft down my spine. His gaze fixed on my mouth and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “We’ll never have the bliss of children, Tate.” His hand stilled and his gaze flicked up, the shine to his eyes telling of his own pain. He let out a slow breath and began a slow stroke over my waist, my hip. “And I will always curse my mother and Zara for robbing us of that but I can make it, and keep it, just…us.”
I wanted to believe that. Everything in me, my beast included, didn’t want to share Jager with anyone else. Then reality reasserted itself. “Until the new Queen orders you to remove the threat of yet another reiver.”
“Sons deal with that threat, not brothers.”
“That’s not the law, Jager.”
The fire of his beast flickered in his stern gaze and my own beast stretched in my gut, reminding me why I’d hunted him in the first place. Strength of will surged around him. “It will be.”
A smile twitched across my mouth. “You’re sure you can force the Queen into doing what you want?”
Jager snorted. “Zara isn’t strong. Not as strong as the Queen should be.” His hand framed my jaw, his thumb playing with my lip. “Not like you.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “My mother has done all of our race a disservice by denying you.”
“Flattery?”
“Maybe…” But the hardness to his face, the barest touch of a smile on his mouth said that he wasn’t humoring me. He stepped back. “As you said, it’s time to welcome the new year.”
I snatched up one of the towels on the bed and rubbed it hard over my hair. The pain diverted me. I padded to the window to stare down to the lawns, lit now by the soft, golden glow of lamplight. Already servants scurried to arrange the platform for the dignitaries, for the Queen and the hunting reiver.
A smile quirked my mouth. Everyone would witness my humiliation. My hands stopped and I let the towel drop to the floor. Kester would see me standing before practically every queen in the world, clad in submissive silver.
“Tate, you have to dress.”
The towel wrapped around my body joined the first one on the floor. I turned. Jager laid my costume across the end of the bed, the rustle of soft cloth, the clink of the linking chains suddenly too loud in the room. “None of it feels quite real.”
“I know,” he said, looking up from fastening the buttons on his shirt. He tucked the tails into his trousers and quickly knotted his tie. “Ten years ago I didn’t plan on facing the dawn like this.”
I picked up the costume, rubbing rough-napped fingers over the impossibly smooth material. “Ten years?”
“A young vampire, only just eligible to attend, growled at me, beast-fire in her eyes.”
Puzzled, I glanced up from trying to crawl into the chained contraption. A smile tugged at his mouth. “Me?”
“You.”
“Really?” It made struggling into the stupid costume easier. Jager stepped forward and helped to adjust the thin slivers of fabric over my breasts, untangling the chains that felt ice cold against my exposed skin. “Nice to know I made an impression.”
“I planned more.” His finger traced a path over my stomach, warming my skin and negating the freezing links of silver. “And for an all too brief time, I had you.” His dark eyes shone and I beat down the insane need I had to jump him again. “You seemed intent to enjoy your first November Eve celebration. But then so did I and one of my mother’s tanao.” His smile turned wicked and my stomach dropped. Damn it, I’d already had him and not known? How unfair was that? And that wild first new year had been him? “We masked our scents—the Queen’s son must always be discreet.” He teased a finger across the curve of my belly. “It was fortunate that I didn’t feed from you then. I would’ve found that nice lockable box you suggested and kept you in it.” He lifted an eyebrow. “What?”
“All this time, I’ve wondered about you. I’m annoyed that I already bloody knew!”
Jager’s soft laughter tightened the knot in my stomach. “I know,” he said.
I smacked his arm and he winced. My eyes narrowed. “Was the other man Neron?”
The hand idly stroking my stomach stopped. “Why?”
I smirked. “Yes, I thought he seemed…familiar.” I moved to the table and long mirror set in front of the windows. Yet more of my costume sat on the polished surface of the table. “Shame I didn’t get to see you.” I smiled at him through the mirror, my beast enjoying the swift rise of anger in his gaze. The silver-edged hair band burned cold against my fingers. Taking a brush, I dragged it through the tangles. “Especially Neron.”
Jager stood behind me, his hands brushing over my shoulders, warming the cold bite of silver. “I’m afraid he’ll become Zara’s when the sun rises.”
“That’s a waste and a shame,” I said as I worked more silver bands and pins into my hair, flattening it to my skull. I picked up a pot, dipping my finger in to coat my eyes in sparkling silver. When I’d finished, the chill sheen of cosmetics gleamed against my skin and I stared in the mirror at a stranger.
Jager’s fingers cupped my shoulders. “I know I shouldn’t say this…but you look stunning, Tate.”
I gripped his fingers, wanting to draw warmth from him as the excess of silver on my body leached it away. “Time to go, Jager.”
“One final piece,” he said, placing a torc around my neck to lie flat against my breastbone. A series of locks clicked into place and I shivered. In the light of the sun, the locks would meld together and only my master, only Jager could remove the symbol of my slavery. “Here.” He shook back his loose cuff and exposed his strong wrist. �
�That much silver? Your veins are ice. So feed.”
I pushed the thick sleeve back and lifted his wrist to my mouth. Watching him through the mirror, I let my teeth pierce his flesh, blood beading his skin. The scent of him mixing with the fire of his rich blood had my heart thudding. I curled my tongue, taking quick, neat licks. Jager hissed and his other hand gripped my waist, fingers digging into bare skin.
Fire burned fast through my chest, stomach, limbs, fighting the freezing effects of the silver. The heat I’d grown to need, to kiss and lick and ride Jager, throbbed low in my belly.
A wicked smile pulled at his mouth. “And there’s no time for that, Tate.” He let out a tight breath and his fingers slid across my stomach to play just above where I ached for him. Bastard. His mouth parted and his tongue teased his prominent fangs. “Much as I would like to bend you across this table.”
I took a final long lap at his wrist, putting it from me before I gave in to the urge to let him.
He fixed cufflinks and swung his jacket onto his back, pushing his arms through. He offered his hand. “Shall we?”
I slipped my hand into his, the warm, tight grip of his fingers keeping back the cold bite of silver. “Shouldn’t I be walking behind you?”
“Yes.”
The doors to the bedroom opened onto the corridor beyond. “Am I going to?”
“No.”
I blew out a slow breath and a smile lurked on my mouth. “All right.”
Jager led the way out of his apartment and into the great circular room beyond. He turned to another set of doors. They opened onto a brightly lit stairwell, leading down at least four levels. “The secret staircase out to the gardens,” he said, his shoes clicking against the twisting, marble steps.
I padded quickly beside him, my bare feet chilled.
My heart thudded. I was Jager’s escravo, his slave. Everyone would see that, treat me as little more than chattel with legs.
“Tate, relax,” he murmured, giving my fingers a quick squeeze. “This will soon be over, and then you’ll never wear silver again. I promise.”
I willed down the tight knot of nerves. Jager was a man of his word. I knew that too well. The knowledge that I was still the daughter of a queen, for however short a time, helped to ease the tension. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, an arched wooden door the only exit. I lifted my chin and steeled myself for what was to come.
Jager pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, sharing the cold burn of the silver coating my mouth. “Ready?”
My spine straightened and I ignored the sudden twist of shame in my gut. I was his slave, but that put me in Jager’s bed. The remembered taste of his blood, the heat of his skin, the press of his mouth… Silver tingled against my suddenly hot flesh. Yes, I could live with the humiliation, live with it and have a happy smirk on my face. “I’m ready.”
A smile eased over his mouth and I had to pull in the urge to sink my teeth into his full lower lip and taste him. “You’re the most unsubservient slave they’re ever going to see.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Worried?”
“Proud,” he said and pulled open the door. Cool air washed over my bare skin and I held down a shiver, though goose bumps ran riot.
Lamps swayed in the breezes, pooling golden light over the trampled grass, and row after row of seating set before the royal dais. Jager’s seven escravo already stood at its base, their silver costumes glittering in the flickering light. Their unnatural calm irritated me. Was that who I would become in the end? All the fire of my beast extinguished.
I willed down the pain in my gut and pulled my eyes away. Some of the younger tanao gathered under the sheltered areas, seeking protection from the sun’s rays when it rose. Eyes flicked to me. Most males dreamed of owning escravo and more than one young vampire blinked. The hot prick of want itched against my skin.
Jager growled, the sound carrying on the dark air.
Suddenly the flattened grass seemed of vital interest to the small knot of men and I didn’t hold down my little smirk. “You’re scaring the children.”
“The children don’t get to think those thoughts about you.”
“Only you do?”
The fire of his beast lit his eyes and the breath hitched in my chest. “Do you want the fresh scent of the grave on your skin? Or my scent?”
I rubbed at the silk of his dark tie before my gaze lifted. His angry tension had my beast whispering soft growls of need. “Youth has its attractions…”
The lick of fury had an undercurrent of amusement and the corners of his eyes crinkled with humor. “The sun isn’t going to change you, is it?”
“Would you want it to?”
Jager followed the worn path and his dark gaze slid to me. “Ask me that in a hundred years.”
I snorted. “So soon?”
Jager’s gaze narrowed, but he stayed silent.
The breeze freshened, promising another cold, early winter day. My bare feet cracked over frosted grass and I held down a wince. I wanted the ceremony over and done with so that I could crawl back into a warm bed, preferably with a certain naked vampire.
“Tate!”
Jager’s hand tightened around mine, his sudden reflex half tugging me behind him, but I fought it. I willed my toes to dig into the cold earth. “No,” I muttered. “I need to see him.”
Kester pushed aside the final chair and stood before me, breathing hard. His hand lifted, but the soft growl from Jager had his fingers curling away. The pain in my brother’s eyes twisted my stomach into a tight knot. A muscle jumped in his tight jaw but he straightened his shoulders and held Jager’s gaze. “May I talk with my sister?”
Jager gave a brief nod.
Their short exchange pierced me and the sudden weight and icy burn of the silver pressed heavy. I was a slave, chattel. Jager controlled my life, how I dressed, who I spoke to, saw. My gut cramped. Tradition broke an escravo from her family, tied her completely to her master. I’d not only lost the dignity and fire of being a queen. I’d lost who I was. I’d lost everything.
Chapter Six
“Tate?”
Kester’s voice broke through my sudden burst of self-pity. I willed down the tears that burned me and lifted my chin. I stepped closer, ignoring the tighter grip of Jager’s hand around mine. “I had to obey, Kester. I’m sorry.”
“Obey him?” His finger traced over my cheek, wincing at the silver powder staining my skin. “Tate…”
“Not him.” I couldn’t help it. My gaze slid to the dais curving before the rows of chairs and fixed on the golden throne set beneath an ornate canopy.
Kester’s gaze followed and heat flushed his cheeks. “That is…” He gritted his teeth, biting off the rest of the words, bound like all of us to obey Queen Ionna. He glared at Jager. “You too?”
Jager nodded as his hand squeezed mine. “Me too,” he said.
Kester swore under his breath, something long, harsh and convoluted in five languages. “This isn’t right. Others…aren’t meant to decide something as important as how you find a mate.” He blew out a heated breath and stepped back from me. A wry smile pulled at his mouth and his dark eyes gleamed. It was an act, I could feel the tension still gripping him, but I wanted to hug my brother. “I can’t believe the sun will change you.”
“Neither can I,” Jager murmured. He stared up into the lightening sky. “We need to go, Tate.”
Kester rubbed at his clean-shaven jaw. He tried to smile but didn’t quite pull it off. “May fate grant you happiness.”
The ancient blessing tightened my gut. I tried to thank him, but the words wouldn’t come. My mouth twitched, forming as strained a smile as his own. I stumbled after Jager. Seconds dragged and it became less raw to take a final glance at my brother as he tried to keep the pain of loss from his face.
“I won’t make you break contact with your family.”
The pain in my chest eased. “Thank you,” I murmured.
“In every way I can make it, you�
�re my consort, Tate, not my slave.” Dark eyes held me and I wanted to believe him. His hand framed my jaw, the heat of his palm warming through the dusting of silver coating my face. “Sunlight may fuse the silver, may change you, but I need you to know this.”
What was he saying? Hope warmed me for my future with a man who had managed to worm his way under my skin. Feelings swamped me, and with them one feeling I never really expected. “Jager…”
“Well done, brother dear.” Zara’s cool voice iced the cold cut of silver over my skin, shriveling the heat of Jager’s touch. “I knew I could rely on you.”
His sister’s white silk gown rippled against her lush body and the satisfied smile on her face irked my beast. I held down a growl. The vampire standing behind her was a natural-born son of one of the European queens. Yes, she’d hunted from the line that hated her. Not exactly wise, but a queen always needed a challenge. Zara had his hand gripped hard, her knuckles white. From his tight expression, her grip probably kept him from bolting. She’d obviously grown bored with the men tripping over themselves to impress her. But Soren? His loathing was almost tangible.
“This is the last order you’ll give me, Zara,” Jager muttered, edging around her and continuing the long walk to the wide, curved dais.
Her dark gaze flicked over me, smug, superior. “I think it’ll be the first of many.”
Jager laughed, but his expression turned hard. “I told you gloating doesn’t become you. Queens don’t gloat.” He stopped at the foot of a small series of steps leading up to the platform. His voice dropped to a rough whisper. “Remember how fortunate you are today, Zara. Remember it for the rest of your reign.” He paused and his beast burned in his face. “Because if I could, I would rip it all from you. Right now. In front of everyone. So, no, sister dear, I will not follow any more of your orders.”
I followed him up the stairs, glancing back at the silent Zara. Her face had flushed and her jaw tensed. Uncertainty had replaced the sense of smugness.
“Jager?” I squeezed his hand, wanting to ease the burn of fury in his face. “If she listens she’ll be a better Queen.”
