Heart of an Emperor [Daughters of Lyra Series]

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Heart of an Emperor [Daughters of Lyra Series] Page 4

by Felicity Heaton


  "What are you doing?” He grabbed her wrist but not before she had managed to run her finger along the blade.

  His eyes widened.

  He stared at the drop of blood as it blossomed on her finger. She held it up, her palm facing the ceiling so the drop remained perfectly balanced. His lips parted and his teeth sharpened. His heart thumped hard against his chest, faster than he had ever felt it beat before.

  His breathing turned heavy as he stared transfixed at the tiny bead of blood. Fire consumed him and a desire for violence was born in its midst. He trembled as he held her wrist, his fingers tightly closed around it, aware that he was probably hurting her but unable to care at that moment. He was lost. His mind raced forwards to imagine every possible outcome of this moment. A wave of bloodlust stronger than he had ever experienced hit him and he could see himself killing all in the palace just to get to her, to have her all to himself.

  He could see himself killing his friends.

  Her family.

  Everyone.

  It was torture to see all that in one single drop of blood and know that if he tasted her, drank from her, the feelings he had now would increase in strength one hundred fold.

  He would lose his mind.

  "You can love, Regis ... you're just too afraid of how those feelings control you,” she said and his gaze snapped to hers. “Well they control everyone. We're slaves to them too."

  His breaths shortened as the hunger rose.

  "Is it just blood making you lose control?” she whispered, sinful and tempting as the blood itself. “Or is it my blood? Is it me?"

  He frowned at her. Was it her or her blood? He had been battling for control over himself from their first meeting in the square. He hadn't smelt her blood back then. He had only smelt her perfume of Lyran lilies.

  "I'm not afraid, Regis,” she said and removed his hand from her wrist. Entranced, he stood there, watching with a sense of inevitability as she raised her hand and the precious drop of blood towards him, knowing he wasn't strong enough to stop her. “Not of love or these feelings. Not of you or your hunger."

  She wiped her finger across his lower lip, smearing it with the rich taste of her blood.

  "Tell me that you didn't want me before you had a taste.” Her voice was a sultry whisper that made him realise that she didn't know how dangerous what she had done was. He couldn't control himself any longer. “Tell me that you didn't feel something that night we spoke in the garden."

  He shuddered and licked his lip. Bringing his hand up, he touched his mouth and then brought it away. His fingers shook, paler now than they had been. He couldn't control himself and he wished for her sake that he could.

  He frowned and tears filled his eyes, hot and rebuking.

  Was this love?

  This desire to protect her, even from himself, even when he knew that he wasn't strong enough?

  "Tell me that you didn't want to kiss me and I will believe that you cannot love. I will leave."

  He stared at her.

  "I wanted you the moment I saw you.” He grabbed her around the waist and crushed her lips with a kiss so consuming it felt impossible to sate. His tongue thrust into her mouth and hers came to meet it, tangling and gliding against his in a way that stirred the fire in his blood. He growled, picked her up, and continued to kiss her as he lay her down on the bed, only half-aware of what he was doing.

  She moaned on contact with the soft bed and he ground his teeth, closing his mouth and struggling for control. Her hand came up to caress his cheek, bringing the scent of her blood with it. It was too much, too intense. It shattered what little control he had retained and sent him over the edge.

  He poured all his hunger and need into his kiss, claiming her mouth for his own just as he longed to claim her blood and her body. The feel of her delicate warm fingers stroking his cheek drove him on, luring him into enacting all the sinful thoughts running through his mind. He closed his eyes and fervently kissed her, his body hardening as her tongue caught his teeth and a flood of sweetness filled his senses. Her hands lowered to his arms as he devoured her mouth, seeking out every molecule of blood, desperate to taste each one. Her fingers flexed around his muscles and then held them tight as her body went rigid and a moan escaped her. He groaned at the feel of her body brushing his, stirring his desire until a red haze fogged his mind.

  He needed her.

  She didn't protest or put up a fight as he dragged the skirt of her dress up to reveal her legs. He broke off the kiss and stared down at their long shapely forms, the sound of her heartbeat and her rapid breathing filling his ears. With a growl, he grabbed her and pushed her up the bed, so he was level with her hips. He pushed her dark blue skirt away and ran his hands over her thighs. She shook beneath him, trembling in a way that his body matched as he stared wide-eyed and open mouthed at her bare legs.

  He wanted her.

  She would be his.

  Every Varkan would know it.

  With a snarl, he sunk his fangs deep into her thigh and sucked hard, pulling a mouthful of her blood and then swallowing down the sweet nectar. She shrieked and her hands grasped his shoulders, shaking with the pleasure he could sense in her. He drank deeper, lost in the haze and his need. One thought pounded his skull as he clung to her legs and held onto her.

  She was his.

  A loud banging disturbed his solitude, his moment, and he raised his head. Seven signatures on the other side of the door. All meat. All dead. He roared at them, a warning for them to leave before they met their deaths. They banged again and ordered him to open the door.

  Sophia muttered something, her eyes closed and face flushed with desire. The scent of it filled the room, suffused his senses along with that of her blood. He growled at the thought of their moment being disturbed, at the thought of those men daring to intrude and interrupt her pleasure.

  Kneeling on the bed, he narrowed his eyes on the door.

  He roared.

  "In the name of Iskara and the King of Lyra, open up!” several men demanded at once.

  Addled by the blood, Regis grinned. He would open up. He grabbed his sword and unsheathed it. He would open up and then he would open them up.

  He ignored Sophia's feeble protest as he left the bed and stalked towards the door, intent on protecting what was his.

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  Chapter 5

  The weird dizziness and warmth evaporated in a heartbeat when Sophia realised that Regis had opened the door. Tall burly armoured guards poured in and she screamed as she raced to cover her legs and sit up. Regis roared and she reached out to him. Kneeling on his bed, she could only watch as he fought the guards, his eyes blazing red and his mouth bloodied. Her blood. She flinched when he blocked one of the guards’ blades with his bare arm and it sliced into it. She had done this to him. She had made him lose control.

  She reached out again, desperate to speak but unable to find her voice. He ran one guard through, gutting the man, and roared as he attacked the next. What had she done? She hadn't meant for it to turn into this, for it to go this far.

  Her heart ached when the guards finally disarmed Regis and piled onto him, pinning him down. She couldn't watch as they carried him away, didn't want to hear his shouts of protest. Even though he was speaking the old Varkan language and she couldn't understand the words, she knew that he was angry. She could feel his outrage and his hunger.

  Sophia didn't understand why he felt those feelings though. Was it because of her? Was he angry at the disturbance? She had been, at least at first. She sat in silence in the empty room and lifted her skirt. Her fingers traced the neat set of red marks on her flesh. They didn't hurt. The whole area felt numb. In fact, she felt numb. Her initial anger at the guards’ arrival and Regis stopping biting her had faded to guilt and misery.

  She had driven Regis into biting her and now the guards had probably taken him to the palace cells. Her father would probably have him killed.

  It was all
her fault. She touched the mark on her thigh again. It had felt so good though. She had tried to keep quiet but it had been impossible. The wave of pleasure and sense of connection to Regis had been overwhelming, sending her out of her mind.

  The door opened and she covered her leg, smoothing her dress down over it. She frowned when she saw it was her mother and turned away to stare at the window. Night was falling. How long had she been sitting here thinking about what she had done?

  Her mother sat beside her and placed her hand over hers. It was comforting, warm, and made tears fill her eyes as she felt she no longer had to be strong. Her mother would understand. Her mother would never be angry with her, not about anything, and certainly not about something concerning love.

  Sophia sighed. She had been such a fool and where had it got her? She had convinced Regis to lose control and she still hadn't been able to discern whether he felt love. His feelings had been so strong and, while there had been a connection to him, and she had felt tenderness and devotion within his emotions, she hadn't felt anything that she could distinguish as love. Now, Regis would pay the price for her mistake. He would be punished, not her. It should be her.

  "What will happen to him?” she whispered, staring at her mother's hand where it covered her own. She could feel her mother's sympathy and understanding.

  "They are holding him in the cells for now,” her mother said and Sophia forced a smile when her mother brushed her hair behind her ear. She didn't want to think about her appearance. It was probably obvious what had been happening in this room before the guards had burst in.

  No, they hadn't burst in.

  Regis had gone to fight them.

  She had felt his need to protect her.

  "Will they kill him?” Her voice trembled and she looked up into her mother's dark eyes. Sometimes, it was as though she was seeing herself in the future. They were so alike. Perhaps that was why her father doted on her so much and tolerated her sometimes wild ways. “I have to speak to father and tell him not to kill him."

  Her mother's grip on her hand tightened, stopping her from leaving the bed. She looked back at her.

  Her mother laughed. “Do not be so overdramatic. They are only holding him because he is trying to kill anyone who goes near to him, even his kin. Your father asked me to take you down there. The Varkans believe that he will calm down if he sees that you are not harmed."

  Sophia frowned. “Will they take him away?"

  Her mother's eyes widened.

  "You've fallen for him!” she said with a strangely serious expression, one that unsettled Sophia.

  She blushed. “It's pointless. He says he can't love."

  "I know love when I see it and can feel it,” her mother said on a laugh.

  "Feel it?” Sophia said and clutched her mother's hand. “What do you mean, feel it? I can't feel it. I tried ... this is all because I tried to see if I could feel that he loved me."

  "Love is not one feeling that you can sense, child,” her mother said with a sigh and smoothed her hair, pushing each rogue strand back into place. “It is the culmination of many feelings. It is something you have to see with your eyes. That boy ... no ... man, very definitely a man, loves you or he would not be shouting your name from the cells."

  "He is?” Sophia said, unable to believe what her mother was saying.

  Her mother nodded. With a grin, Sophia stood and raced from the room, running for the cells. She held her skirt high so she didn't trip as she bounded down the steps that led into the dungeon beneath the palace. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness and then she rushed on. Her heartbeat quickened when she heard Regis. He was shouting something but she couldn't understand it. The old language again. Other voices joined his as she followed it, trying to find him.

  She skidded to a halt when she turned a corner and saw a row of men stood in front of one of the cells. She raced over and pushed her way through the guards, coming out beside her father and the emperor. The Count of Aeris was pinned with his back against the bars, Regis's arm across his throat. Regis snarled, his eyes still bright red even in the darkness, and went to bite the count.

  "Stop!” she screamed.

  Regis froze and looked up at her.

  "Beauty has timing at least,” the Count of Aeris drawled and she gasped when she saw the blood on his cheek and throat. “Although you might have come quicker to tame your beast."

  Regis snarled and released the count. She went to help the count but stopped when Regis roared. It froze her blood and she tensed.

  "It is not wise to anger him,” the Count of Aeris said as he got to his feet and rubbed his neck. “Soothe him. Bring him back to us."

  She stared at him and then at Regis. “I don't know how."

  Emperor Varka stepped forwards and Regis growled again. “Speak with him. He has been calling you."

  "But he'll speak in that old language won't he? I don't understand—"

  Regis reached out to her and she realised that she didn't need to understand anything he said, she could feel it all in him, every emotion behind whatever words would leave his lips. They would tell her what he wanted to say.

  She stepped up to the solid steel bars. Varkan steel. All the bars of the cells at this end of the palace were Varkan steel. It was supposedly indestructible, even to the species who mined it. They had placed him here because they knew he wouldn't be able to break out. He growled and reached for her again, black claws scratching impatiently at the air.

  Taking a deep breath, Sophia placed her hand into his and frowned when he drew her slowly to him, his grip so light that it stunned her. He closed his eyes and she walked forwards, following her hand. Silence filled the dungeon and she trembled as he leaned his cheek against her hand. It was strange to have such power over one so strong. Her presence alone had calmed his thirst for violence. Opening her hand, she furrowed her brow and touched his cheek. He was bleeding. Long thin lines cut across his face and his neck. The wound on his arm where he had blocked the guard's blade was deep, blood coating his forearm. His chest was marred with cuts and scratches, smeared blood. His blood.

  "Who hit you?” she said, looking over his face again, and he opened his eyes and looked at her. He said nothing in response, merely leaned into her open palm and held it against his cheek.

  "I have not enjoyed your deception and you have a lot to answer for,” her father said behind her. She presumed he was talking to Regis.

  Turning to look at her father, she pleaded him with her eyes. “Release him, father. It was all my doing. Punish me instead. I made him bite me. I'm sorry. Please don't hurt him anymore. I am a woman, and I can accept responsibility for my actions."

  Tears streaked her cheeks and as the first sob broke free of her lips, Regis growled and pulled her against the bars. She closed her eyes as she felt his arms around her and a strip of his chest against her cheek, edged by cold steel where the bars pressed in.

  "No one will be punished,” her father said and she smiled. “But there will be some explaining to do once the Count of Sagres is calm."

  She blinked away her tears as her father turned to the Count of Aeris and Emperor Varka.

  "Take the Count of Sagres to his room."

  A guard near the cell door opened the lock and the door slid open, forcing Regis to release her. The moment the door was out of the way, he grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her so close that she couldn't help smiling. He still wanted to protect her.

  The Count of Aeris tried to get her free but Regis clawed at him, making it quite clear that he wasn't going to leave her. She looked at her father to see him standing with his arms folded across his chest and a grim look on his face.

  "Can I go with them?” she asked.

  An amused smile touched her father's lips and she frowned.

  "You are much like your mother in matters of love. When I saw you enter this universe thirty Lyran years past, I had a thought that you would be like me, but I see now that y
ou have grown into a woman as headstrong and wilful as your mother, willing to sacrifice yourself for one you love,” he said and she blushed and dropped her gaze to the floor. She had never thought of herself like her mother in personality as well as looks.

  "Perhaps there is a little of you in me too, father, for I was willing to run away to avoid an arranged marriage."

  He frowned. “My sweetest daughter, you did not believe that I would give you to a man whom you did not wish to marry?"

  "I thought perhaps you might, if they offered the right things in exchange."

  "Never!” He stepped forwards to touch her face but Regis growled and held her tighter. Her father smiled and shook his head. “I would have kept you for my own forever but I knew that you were lonely and desired to meet someone to call your equal, your love. Having found such a good match in my Terea, I thought you might wish to look beyond the sphere of Lyran society for your love. I only invited these suitors so you might be able to find someone you loved without having to leave ... foolish as it sounds ... here."

  Sophia smiled. She didn't think her father was foolish for trying to bring the universe to her. She only wished that perhaps he had done it in a more tactful manner such as a ball or something where she wasn't meeting one species at a time. It had been the thought of a queue of them waiting for their time with her that had made her uncomfortable. It had made her believe that he wanted to give her to the highest bidder. She hadn't thought about the fact that he had kept her here and had continued to refuse her desire to travel while still granting her the freedom to do as she pleased.

  "Forgive me?” he said and looked as though he wanted to put his arms around her.

  Her smile widened. “Of course. Although, I never wanted to leave here. I still don't."

  "You mean you'll refuse to leave?” The Count of Aeris stepped forwards, a frown marring his beautiful features. “Even if the emperor ... no ... even if Regis will marry you, you will not leave Lyra Prime?"

  "Regis knows that I will not leave this planet. Lyra Prime is my home. What does it matter if I remain here even if Regis marries me?"

 

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