It indicated Alexia was in the rock beneath the pool.
Chest heaving, he looked around the quiet night.
The moon reflected off the still water, so it appeared more like a sheet of glass than liquid. He stood for only a moment before dropping the tracer in a small plastic bag he'd stowed in his pants. Shoving it in his back pocket, Declan dove headfirst into the pool. The dark water enveloped him, but only for a moment. As if led by a string, he burst through the surface, coming up on the other side inside a cave.
An underwater cave on the other side of the mountain.
Reaching forward, he arched his arm through the water, pulling himself to shore. Shiny black pebbles dug into his feet as he padded up the hidden beach. Bending at the waist, he covered his knees with his hands and looked around. It took a moment, but his eyes adjusted to the pitch-blackness of the cave. Outlines and shadows formed until he could see the fissure opening in the walls in front of him, but no soldiers, no guards.
Standing, he tossed wet hair off his face and reached in his back pocket, pulling out the plastic bag. He ripped it open, flipping on the device as he stepped inside the crevice. The tracker's constant red blinking flashed quicker with each step he took.
He was close.
Hope and worry sent him into a jog. Darting his eyes to the left and right, he ran down the narrow passageway. The air ahead warmed by degrees and the scent of blood grew stronger. Panic rose inside him. Declan ignored it. Panic wouldn't get him there. Panic wouldn't help her.
He turned a corner. Soft light shone down the tunnel where an opening yawned in the passageway. The tracer began flashing so fast it was almost constantly red. Declan slowed to a cautious walk once he was a few feet from the light. When he heard nothing, he poked his head out. The passage opened into a massive grotto. Hundreds of candles burned, illuminating the darkness. Chairs faced a stone dais to the left. A gory tapestry depicting the dark times, the times when vampire warlords reigned instead of female monarchs, took up the back of the stone stage, like a painted curtain.
The cavern from the dream.
Images from the dreadful nightmare seized him, gripping him like a hand about the throat. He drew in violently for breath. "Alexia," he said on the exhale.
The tracking stick slipped from his fingers as his wings snapped wide and he took to the air. Hovering twenty feet above, he stared at the exact picture he'd dreamt of less than an hour ago. His heart almost seized at the carnage below him--the rows of chairs, the massive wood pillar smeared with blood and...
"No." Two bodies lay twisted and broken on the grisly stage below. One had hair the color of spun gold.
Declan torpedoed to the ground. Tucking his wings back, he ran for the altar, hurdling over broken furniture and boulders to get to her. His heart pounded in a savage beat against his ribs. Each strident thud hammered with such force he expected it to break free of his chest.
Skidding on his knees, he slid through what must have been pints of blood coating the stone floor beneath her. Reaching out, he tugged on the ropes binding her ankles. It wasn't until he moved to his knees and began unwinding her wrists that he noticed the thick broadsword speared through her middle.
The pounding of his pulse stopped and all the air left him.
No. He thought the word this time, but couldn't say it. Couldn't find enough breath to speak it.
With his mind, body and fingers numb, he worked methodically on freeing her. First he yanked out the sword and then used it to cut her bonds.
When she fell, Declan clutched her limp body to his chest. It wasn't until he felt the weight of her against him that the truth hit. He sucked in a deep, ragged breath.
"No, no, no." He held her tight, repeating in a mind less litany the one word he'd been thinking since he'd awoken from that awful vision. As the truth that this was no longer a dream but reality sank in, his legs shook and then gave out completely. He collapsed on the hard ground.
Cradling her against him, he gazed down, smoothing her stained hair out of her face. Her skin was blue, nearly translucent. Dirty yellow bruises covered her cheek and temple, evidence of Lotharus's cruel and brutal feed at her mauled neck.
Everything he'd seen in that horrifying nightmare had come to pass.
Gods, the way she'd suffered.
The memory of how she died, how she'd been murdered splintered through him. He beat his fist against the ground, relishing the dull ache vibrating into his hand. Hoping it might take away some of the agony, the anger, the helpless fury threatening to suffocate him. It didn't.
He stared down at her. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. Bending his head to hers, he shut his eyes and bit down hard on his jaw to keep the soul-shattering sobs from sounding.
He felt a slight thud move against him. Declan bolted upright. Alert, his eyes darted around for a cause. He could see nothing. Hear nothing. Frowning, he looked back down at Alexia. He felt the vibration again, only this time his eyes zeroed in, catching the faint pulse fluttering beneath her skin.
"Alex?" Hope sucked his tears dry. Cupping the side of her face, Declan gave her a shake. "Alex!"
When she didn't move, he bent his head to her chest. Closing his eyes, he whispered what could only be a prayer, and held his breath. Waiting. His ears picked up the faint thump of her heartbeat again. When he doubted it and lingered, another one followed, only softer this time. His mind reeled, backpedaling to believe the truth before him.
She's alive!
Frantic, he darted his eyes around for something, anything that could save her. But he was alone. Only a halo of blood circled her body.
Blood.
The air stuck in his lungs. He held it in as the lunacy of his plan raced through his mind. Gods forgive him, but he knew what he had to do. Grabbing her under the arms, Declan yanked her closer onto his lap, propping her head on his hip.
Her head lolled to the side when he released it and brought his wrist to his mouth. Baring his fangs, he bit down hard, tearing the top layer of skin from his wrist. Blood gushed in his mouth, the coppery flavor smothering him and sparking the vampire within him to life. He suppressed it and focused on her.
Tilting her chin, he suspended the flow of blood over her lips. The droplets splattered on her unmoving mouth. Faster, quicker they fell, the crimson blood collecting in a pool against her lips instead of sliding inside them. Panic swelled, nearly strangling him. Swallowing down despair, he bent over her and closed his eyes.
"Stop fighting it, Alex," he said against her temple before placing a kiss upon it. "Drink for me. Live for me. Please."
The side of her face and neck felt like ice where she touched him and he could no longer make out the beat of her heart. Still, he could not pull away his arm, couldn't give up on her. "Please live," he repeated in a fierce whisper. "Please. Please."
For a moment he thought perhaps the gods knew that what he attempted was wrong. But he lived, did he not? Tallon lived. Aberrations they may be, but they lived. As Alexia needed to live. Rage, helplessness, resentment uncoiled inside him to think she would not. To think the spark of hope he'd just experienced had been a cruel lie.
"Drink, damn you!"
At his shout, teeth, sharp and long, drilled into his flesh. Declan gasped at the shock only to smile in relief. Alexia whimpered and lifted her hands to his wrist, keeping him imprisoned. The immortal life inside her must have sensed death, for she now fought for life with a vengeance. Declan wasn't fighting back. In fact, he willed his blood faster as it rushed into her.
"Yes. That's it. Take it. Take what you need," he murmured.
Closing his eyes, he focused on offering his life to her. For the second time in as many minutes, words that could only be likened to prayers repeated over and over in his mind until coherent words failed him.
As she fed, Declan placed all his attention on her. Her eyes were closed. Her cheeks, once an icy shade of blue, became flushed, warm and rosy. Her body, once rigid with death near, now pulsed and throbbed
with vibrant life.
A wave of dizziness struck him. He closed his eyes and nearly passed out from the vertigo. Light-headed and weak, he felt the elbow supporting him buckle. Declan fought to remain upright, but without his arms to buoy him, his abs gave out. He collapsed back, the dirt floor pillowing his head.
At the movement, her fangs dislodged. Declan rolled his head to the side so he could see her. After she slid her mouth from his wrist, a smile crossed his to see her moving, to see her alive. However, when her face pinched, her mouth opening in a silent scream, he frowned and sat up, worried. Forgetting his weakness, he cupped the back of her head, supporting her weight as her slim body convulsed in his arms.
"Alex." His shout came out with a low croak. She didn't respond. "Alex."
Her back bowed with such force he nearly dropped her. Small and frantic, her fists beat against his chest as she visibly fought some invisible war raging within her body. Declan could do little more than hold on to her and wait. Doubt and fear ate at him. It killed him to think he'd caused her any pain.
However, within seconds, her skin became hot to the touch. This time when she opened her mouth, a sharp cry pierced the air and faint wisps of smoke curled out of her mouth.
At the sight, relief flooded Declan. "Shh," he hummed, whispering soothing reassurances in her ear. After a few moments, her body calmed. Smoothing his palm over her head, he kept his head to her ear, his cheek against hers. Eventually her breathing slowed, became less of a struggle. Straightening wisps of hair away from her face, Declan tilted his head to look into her face.
When he pulled back, his breath caught.
He gazed down into two of the most beautiful amethyst eyes he'd ever seen. Dragon eyes.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ALEXIA KNEW SHE STARED up at Declan and immediately thought she was either dreaming or dead. A low throb pounded behind her temples. And her eyes weren't working right. Everything seemed so bright and colorful, almost as if she stared through a kaleidoscope.
"Declan?"
His face beamed before he swooped down, covering her mouth with his in a tender kiss that stole her breath. He kissed her like a man starved for the taste of her. As if she were blood and he'd gone for days without feeding. As if he thought he'd never see her again.
When he pulled back, she reached up and touched his face. "Where am I? What happened?"
His smile faded and he swallowed hard. "Lotharus."
A frown tightened her brow as she tried to wade through the fuzzy memories seeping through her mind. Bold images pricked her thoughts. The crystal...Dragon Island...the ascension...Lotharus's sword.
A lance of pain sliced through her body as that memory bombarded her, sharp and lifelike. Warm hands cupped her face, holding on to her like an anchor as she rode out the storm of dying for a second time. When she finally pulled to shore, Declan's face was all she saw.
"Where did he go, Alex? Where is Lotharus now?"
Alexia tried to focus, tried to pluck some memory out of the foggy haze that engulfed her. And then it all came rushing back. "He's gone," she said through gritted teeth. "Gathering horde to...fight the dragons...but doesn't make sense...too risky with the sun..."
"Shh, it's all right." He cradled her in his arms, rocking her as one would a child. "We are ready for them."
The pain increased, nearly blinding her with the strength of the next convulsion. She gasped and clutched a hand to her stomach, forcing down a need to vomit. Sweat dotted her forehead and an acrid taste burned the back of her throat. What had she done the hours before her ascension?
Ascension. She groaned. "He has my power. The crystal. Aghhhhh!" The sharp, stabbing pain had her crying out. "Wh-what's happening to me?"
"You'll be fine, I promise." Soft lips kissed her damp temple. Her skin absorbed his scent, his essence and it instantly calmed the burning pain inside her.
"How did you find me?"
A large hand flattened on her back and slowly began rubbing up and down. "I dreamt of you, of this place."
The vibrations of his voice soothed her. As if her body were made of water, each tone sent a ripple of relief pulsing through her.
"Don't stop talking. Please," she begged.
He laughed a low male chuckle that made her womb clench. "All right," he said. And then he began telling her the story of them. How this beautiful, sexy woman, this little vampire, had managed to cage him when no one else could. How the first time he'd seen her, his body had reacted with a want his mind told him repeatedly he could not recognize. But that every time she came near him it became harder and harder to resist the pull, resist the urge to kiss her lovely lips, even though it went against everything he had ever been taught, ever believed. Even more amazing, he knew that every conflicting emotion, every spark of infatuation coursing through him echoed through her.
"When I awoke to find you gone, all I could think of was making sure you were all right. After the soldier told us of Lotharus's plan, I couldn't formulate my own fast enough. And when I woke from that dream of your ascension, my heart was screaming you were gone and I thought I'd never breathe again."
A knot twisted in Alexia's throat. She wanted to tell him it had nearly killed her to leave his bed that night. That thoughts of him and only him were the last ones streaming through her conscious mind as the life had drained from her body. But the words wouldn't come. So she listened, his voice helping to fight the unbearable agony slicing through her body.
"Since the night I met you, first tasted you," he said in a low rumble by her ear, "I've been dreaming about you. Only, as you said, they aren't just dreams. They are memories. We are connected, little vampire. I believe we were meant to be connected. And now we are one."
Alexia frowned at his cryptic words, but a fresh spike of agony lanced through her. It felt like her insides were on fire. Even his voice no longer helped. Alexia chewed her lip and scissored her thighs. Unable to take it any longer, she released the sob she'd been stoically holding in. Curling her fingers into his biceps, she buried her face in his chest, resting her forehead on his body. The contact made the ache inside her worse.
"Declan." She cried his name in a whimper, making his heart rip. He wished he could take the pain for her. However, he knew there was only one thing that would ease the endless ripple of agony eating through her body.
But he couldn't claim her here. Not in this place. Not like this.
Declan hooked his arms beneath her knees and tucked her against his chest. His gaze shot left and then right, looking for a way out of this place. His breath soughed in and out of his lungs, each one coating them with the scent of her anguish.
Forcing himself to calm down, he closed his eyes and focused on memories of her, on something that might help him get her somewhere safe and private for what he was about to do. Blinding and vivid, images flipped behind his eyes. Declan shot them open and took off at a jog for the back of the cavern.
A door.
A hallway.
Another door.
He moved through the underground tunnels and passageways as if he'd been here before, as if he knew these walls like his own.
The air all around him felt still, eerie. No voices, no footfalls. Only the constant beat of his heart thrumming in his ears.
Her room. There.
Declan kicked the door open, repeating the action to close it before he strode inside. He ignored every detail of her massive chamber save for the one thing he needed. The bed.
She whimpered when he laid her down, her long body writhing against the sheets in an instinctive invitation. His body tightened knowing he would soon have the one thing he'd been craving since he'd first seen her those nights ago.
Dropping down to her, he froze. He knew what he needed to do, but wasn't sure he could. Not without telling her what he'd done, why she felt his urgent need for him, why she felt different.
"Alex," he breathed.
She pinched her eyes, her head tossing back and forth. Hooking a f
inger under her chin, he forced her eyes to his. "Alexia, look at me." She complied. But at the pure agony and torture on her face, he decided he could tell her later and pulled her to her feet. Once she was steady, he removed the dirty gown and tossed it aside. The intoxicating scent of her arousal perfumed the air around him. His mouth watered and his cock throbbed with need. When he pulled back, the sight of her sent his heart kicking against his ribs.
So beautiful. So delicate. The beast within him roared to dominate her, to pound into her hard and fast and claim her as his own. The urge so intense and overpowering he didn't know if he could hold it at bay. Tremors raked his body and blood roared behind his ears. Granite-hard, his shaft stood out from his body, reaching for her heat. The stories he'd heard about all his life finally rang true with a vengeance.
Dragons were fiercely violent when they mated.
Mated.
An intense wave pulsed between them, beckoning him to her. His fingers bit into her hips, holding her an arm's length from him. "Alex," he panted, his voice as shaky as the rest of him. "I can't do this without telling you."
Small hands grabbed his face, hard, yanking him to her lips. Claws scored his cheeks as her warm tongue speared between his lips. Declan groaned at the sweet pain and wound his arms around her waist, pinning her against him.
ALEXIA CRIED into his mouth. The friction of his skin on hers was more powerful and intoxicating than she had expected. It was like she was freezing cold and only he could warm her. Frantic, desperate, their bodies, mouths, souls did all they could do to get closer. Yet, it was never close enough. An unquenchable burning smoldered inside her. An itch she could not reach, much less scratch and soothe. But she knew Declan could. Knew only he could tame the wild inferno raging inside her.
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