In the Service of the King (Vampire Warrior Kings Book 1)

by Laura Kaye

  Kael’s chest clenched and his stomach soured with his guilt over harming her. His weakness had driven him to cover her eyes, led him to rush through his normal preparations, kept him from assuring the needs of the Proferred—caused him to hurt her. His voice should’ve been enough, had been enough with others, but somehow he wasn’t surprised to find something else distinctive about this woman.

  About Shayla.

  Not in three hundred years had he failed someone this egregiously. The comparison to Meara was so unexpected, he faltered in his step. Not since her had a Proffered twisted him up inside so badly. What was going on with him tonight?

  He chanced a sideways glance at the beautiful source of his turmoil.

  Over his seven centuries of life, many blades had pierced his skin. He knew the awful burn of sharp metal against unprotected flesh. Yet, she’d sat there so silent, so stoic.

  To have done that…God, her strength.

  Not to mention the way she’d defended herself. When was the last time someone had addressed him so forthrightly, had dared to express anger at him? Well, Liam did occasionally, but few others. Her actions put her in rather elite company.

  And she was right. None of this was her fault. It was his, all his. He should send her away, now, before he made things worse.

  He stopped pacing and faced her. The chair forced her into an erect posture, causing her breasts to thrust forward against the robe. Her dark nipples visibly pressed into the thin fabric. Kael’s fangs ached to bite into the mounded flesh of her ample breasts. He saw himself in his mind’s eye: striding across the room, falling to his knees between her parted thighs, pulling the gauzy material apart and devouring her slowly but surely….

  The exact opposite of what his own best judgment told him to do.

  As his eyes raked over this imagined scene, they fell on the goblet still perched under her hanging left wrist. The smell of precious lifeblood hung thick in the air. He salivated. Primal need demanded he have it, now. The urge was almost magnetic, cosmic.

  But the way it had been obtained…

  As he debated, Shayla drew her shoulders back, exaggerating her posture, as if she was girding herself for something. Her fingers fluttered for a moment before gripping the arms of the chair. She shook her head. Finally, she drew a breath. “May I speak, Your Highness?”

  The steadiness of Shayla’s voice intrigued him. Once again, she surprised him, and yet her approach in initiating a conversation fell entirely within her role. Strong, disciplined, magical, sensual, beautiful…her appealing attributes multiplied with each passing minute.

  Wary, Kael nodded. “Speak freely.”

  Her body eased forward on the wooden seat, setting off alarm bells in Kael’s head. Almost in slow motion, Shayla sank to her knees in front of the chair and assumed the waiting position in every manner except one: rather than rest her hands palm up on her thighs, she reached with her left hand and grasped the goblet, then cupped it in between both hands and held it above her head, up to him.

  “If it pleases you, Your Highness.”

  Kael’s heartbeat stuttered, then took off at a sprint. Her initiative was daring and so damn sexy his groin tightened in anticipation. He unthinkingly added courageousness to her growing résumé. And fuck if the dramatic gaping of her robe wasn’t the most decadent thing he’d ever seen. The top of the silk opened in a plunging V that revealed the rounded, heaving flesh of her breasts. But it was the bottom of the robe that exposed previously hidden territory. As she’d slid to the ground, her knees had pulled the hem back, and her open-kneed pose gave him a direct view of the dark triangle of hair between her strong, shapely thighs.

  The sweetness of her body’s natural lubricant combined with the rich, thirst-quenching promise of her dark offering proved an overwhelming aphrodisiac, spoke to parts of his soul he thought long dormant. Blood pounded through his head. His fangs throbbed. His cock jerked..

  “Aw, hell,” he muttered as his instincts took over and cast his thinking consciousness into a dark corner. He stalked up to her and pulled the goblet from her hand, then placed it back on the stand. His hands threaded under her arms and, with little effort, pulled her to her feet.

  Holding her lovely face, he pressed his mouth to hers.

  Shayla’s mind erupted into a cacophony of joyous confusion. She’d been specifically told there would be no kissing. The king did not kiss.

  But, holy hell! Did the king ever kiss.

  His large frame bent down over her, surrounding her in his heat. His full lips sucked and pulled at hers and his tongue demanded entrance and exploration, which she freely granted. His hard muscles bunched and thrummed around her, setting her body on fire everywhere they touched. The scent of powerful masculinity filled her nose, and the exquisite flavor of his tongue in her mouth intoxicated her. And, oh God, every time she felt the passing hardness of his fangs as they kissed made her whimper and moan. Her body readied itself immediately for his, moistening, opening.

  Having shielded herself from physical relationships, she was astounded to learn her body had the ability to produce this crazy, urgent euphoria. Her brain scrambled to process each new, maddening sensation. In that moment, she would’ve done anything to maintain the feeling.

  Was it always like this?

  Kael growled low in his chest as his mouth came at her again and again, and Shayla felt the vibration of the feral sound against her breasts. She squeezed her thighs together, seeking friction to satisfy even a little of her now uncontrollable lust. Her mouth was so filled with his probing tongue it was difficult to get enough oxygen, but his kisses convinced her she could live without it as long as he continued to devour her so intensely.

  Never had she imagined the expression of physical love could make her feel so wanted, so needed.

  His obvious pleasure throbbed against her stomach and flooded her with unbelievable feelings of power, and just a little fear. Because they were off the grid now, outside the bounds of the rules and expectations she’d been taught during her training. And she was thrilled it might mean he was as affected by her as she was by him. Wherever the king was leading them, she was only too happy to follow. In truth, she felt powerless to do otherwise.

  A sharp, piercing sensation nicked the edge of her tongue. She gasped into his mouth. He bit me! They said he wouldn’t—

  All thinking abruptly halted as he sucked on her tongue and fed.

  The intense suction made her knees go weak and her core clench. She sagged against his chest and threw her arms under his and up around his broad back so she could grasp onto his shoulders for leverage. The suction pulled through her tongue again and again, lighting up her entire nervous system and promising to make her come if it continued. She dug her nails into his bunching muscles as he rocked his thick cock against her belly. She pushed up onto tiptoe to bring her aching, wet center closer to where she knew instinctively they both needed it. He gripped her tighter as he bent his knees and rolled his hips against her lower pelvis, teasing her by inching ever so much nearer her aching clit. She could hardly tolerate the pressure building inside her. He sucked and sucked at her until the overwhelming pleasure of it all sent her into a dizzying and explosive orgasm unlike any she had ever had by herself.

  A long, high-pitched moan ripped up her throat.

  Her legs lost all feeling and she fell against him entirely as all the muscles in the center of her body pulsed and clenched. His hands flew down to catch her weight and he pulled back from the kiss for the first time in what seemed like hours—glorious, ecstatic hours.

  Trembling shudders rippled through her body over and over. The waves of sensation trapped her, lifted her up and spun her around. Finally, her muscles quieted. Sheer amazement and a deep, warm satiation flooded through her blood.

  Struggling to focus, she smiled up at the king.

  Kael’s expression visibly chilled in the moments after she met his gaze. He shook her lightly and pushed her back from his body. “Stand.”<
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  Shayla stumbled one step then caught herself, but her mind was still flying just enough she couldn’t fully make sense of his actions. “Sire?”

  “No.” He shook his head and wiped at his mouth. His fists clenched and unclenched, and then he shook out his hands like they ached.

  Shayla’s stomach plummeted to the floor. Her equilibrium faltered and she stumbled another step as the room seemed to bend and twist.

  The king stalked to the door in the back corner through which she had entered and hammered two swift blows with his fist against the wooden surface. “Retrieve the Proffered.”

  “What? No!” Shayla didn’t know whether to be pissed at the king’s mixed signals or mortified at his apparent displeasure in kissing her, in bringing her to orgasm.

  But what she didn’t want to know was his rejection. Not when he was her best hope for quenching the vengeful fire burning in her gut. But, more than that, the girlish dream that she could find a connection with someone as magnificent and mysterious and powerful as Kael the Fair didn’t seem so childish anymore. Not after what she’d experienced tonight. She might be inexperienced, but she knew what she felt, and she hadn’t imagined it. Some sort of primal, magnetic pull existed between them. She felt it in her bones, in her blood. Her heart squeezed and thrummed in recognition of the odd, compelling sensation.

  She had to make him believe in it, too. She resumed her submissive standing pose and lowered her head. “I will do better, Your Highness, please.”

  “Leave.” He paced from the back door toward the ornate one through which he had entered.

  Her whole body trembled at the impossible direction of their conversation. “No. Please. We can still—”

  “Go. Now!” His words roared and echoed through the stone chamber.

  Shayla jumped. Her tears flowed unbidden and she turned to retreat. Her first shaky step knocked her into the stand on which the goblet of her own blood still sat. The cup bobbled threateningly, a splash of crimson spilling out and staining a line of dark red against the bright white of her robe, before she caught and righted it. The sight of the crimson stain brought a whimper from her tightening throat and set her into a flat out run to the door.

  She hadn’t seen it open, but her trainer stood there, face etched with disappointment and confusion, waiting to escort her away from the chamber, away from the Warrior King of the Vampires.

  Chapter 4

  “Damnaigh sé go léir don diabhal!” Kael’s damning curse roared through the empty chamber.

  Fucking hell, he’d lost his goddamned mind. Lost all control. Fed from her.

  The knick of his fang against her sweet tongue hadn’t been intentional, at least he didn’t think so, but once he’d tasted her luscious blood, there was no going back. Each pull had warmed his chest, flooded him with power, and reverberated directly to his cock, driving him to get in her in his desire. He’d imagined the tight velvet clenching of her pussy around every inch of his length, unleashing the urge to thrust against her, seek out her wet entrance. Her allure was like a siren spinning dark promises in the night. Promises of paradise in the slick heat of her womanhood.

  Promises that, just maybe, forever existed in the cradle of her thighs.

  And then she had come. If he’d thought her beautiful before, it was nothing compared to her magnificence at the peak of ecstasy.

  But as he watched her ride out her high, his mind came back to him in starts and stops.

  He’d kissed her. She’d embraced him. He’d drunk from her. And he’d been about to fuck her standing right there in the center of the room as he devoured her lifeblood down his throat.

  And to top it all off, his hands fucking tingled.

  No. No.

  Kael paced and tugged at his hair, spitting out a stream of expletives and plaintive pleas for guidance and assistance in his native tongue. “Cén bhrí atá ann? Cad é cuspóir an Céilí Dia ann?” If only the gods would answer him and explain his purpose—and why he felt so lonely fulfilling it.

  Ancient grief joined the raging river flowing through him and filled him with the need to destroy. He glared at the offending goblet of Shayla’s blood, but couldn’t bring himself to waste something so precious. Instead, Kael whirled, nearly upsetting a long mahogany console table, and unthinkingly cleared it in one violent swipe of his arms. Candlesticks and a vase of flowers clanged and crashed against the floor.

  The ornate door exploded open and a trio of massive bodies filled the entryway, guns and blades drawn.

  “My lord?” Liam rasped, his eyes wild as he surveyed the room. Braeden and Daire followed suit, braced for a fight.

  Kael shared a blood connection with the highest-ranking warriors that gave them the ability to sense his emotions, so he wasn’t particularly surprised by their appearance, though the last thing he wanted was an audience for his stupidity.

  He glared at the bewildered men. The scene was almost comical. Liam, still in his full regalia associated with the feeding ritual, Braeden and Daire dressed only in boxing shorts, their taped fists revealing they’d come directly from a sparring match in the compound’s massive training facility.

  “Jesus, smell that,” Daire whispered to Braeden as he lowered his weapon.

  Kael leveled his narrowed gaze at the young warrior. Braeden placed a warning hand on his mouthy brethren’s chest.

  Liam watched the exchange and turned to his men. “All is well. Leave us.”

  Braeden bowed his head and stepped back through the door first. “Come on, Daire,” he bit out.

  Daire inhaled deeply, taking the myriad scents still so thick and fragrant in the room into himself. Finally realizing everyone was waiting for him, he shook his head, bowed it and retreated.

  Liam secured the door before nailing Kael with a questioning stare.

  The king turned away and resumed pacing and ranting under his breath.

  “My lord, how may I be of service?” came Liam’s voice after a while.

  “You can leave.”

  “I cannot.”

  Kael flashed in front of him. “You can very well fucking leave.” His fangs elongated as he lashed out.

  “I will not!” Liam stepped forward, apparently refusing to be cowed. “You really want to do this?”

  They hadn’t come to blows in ages, but it had happened before. The king bored his gaze into Liam’s, but finally stepped back.

  Liam eased his stance. “Where is she?”

  “Gone,” Kael said as he looked down at the ground. His shoulders sagged as some of the fight went out of him. Everything just felt so…wrong.

  “Did you—?”

  Kael rolled his eyes at Liam. There was no way he didn’t smell that goblet of blood. “What do you think?”

  “And, why—?”

  “Christ, what are you? The Inquisition?” He drilled his angry stare into his brother in arms. Guilt flooded him. Minutes passed. “I hurt her.” He shook his hands where they hung by his sides, the phantom tingle still racing through his nerves.

  Liam tracked those movements, his brow cranked down low, and frowned. “What happened, Kael?”

  The thought of recounting all the ways in which he’d failed Shayla exhausted him. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.” Liam sheathed the silver dagger and holstered his weapon. “I’ve known you my whole life. You would never hurt a female. Not intentionally.”

  “What do you want from me, Liam?”

  He held out his arms. “I want to know why you sent her away. Why her lifeblood sits there wasting. Why you are more distressed than I can remember seeing you in aeons.”

  “Oh, for the love… Fine. Her eyes were mismatched…one green, one blue. I covered them, because they were too damned fascinating. And then the hypnotism didn’t work. And she felt the cut of my blade, endured it without complaint. And I…I didn’t even fucking notice her pain. Then, as if she hadn’t proven herself worthy, she implored me to partake of her bl
ood anyway, despite the way I’d failed her. I kissed her, Liam. And I drank from her. And then…”

  It had felt so damn right.

  But now she was gone. Her absence weighed on his shoulders, depressing him, squeezing his chest. Oh, the way he’d dismissed her… He groaned and scrubbed at his face with rough palms.

  Liam gaped at Kael’s rush of words. “You drank from her?”

  “Did I not just say that?”

  “Kael, did you claim her? Is she—?”

  His heart clenched. “Of course I didn’t. I cannot.” He met Liam’s questioning gaze. Held it for a long moment. Tried like hell to resist the dark realizations fighting to rise up from his psyche, demanding to be embraced, believed, voice.

  Kael swallowed roughly as a war waged inside him—between duty and desire, rightness and need, decision and destiny. He shook his head against the growing urge inside him to hope, to try, to be brave enough to take a chance.

  “Liam,” he finally whispered, “I did not have to claim her. Somehow, I could…I could tell…” He shook his head again.

  Liam sucked in a breath and his eyes went wide.

  Though the righteousness of the admission nearly drove him to his knees, Kael still resisted the truth of it. He sighed, a sound full of defeat and resignation. “As I said, it does not matter. She’s gone. And it is better for her that she is.”

  “Do not be a fool, brother.”

  “Watch your tongue, Liam.”

  The warrior ran his hand through his brown hair, then stalked close until he grasped Kael’s shoulder. “Don’t assume you know what’s best for her. Bring her back. Let her choose.” Kael dropped his gaze, unable to witness the hope on his brother’s face a moment longer. “You must, Kael, you cannot continue this way.”

  Kael shoved the hand away and stepped back. “I do not see you seeking out a mate. Or most of the others.”