“I thought we agreed it would be best if she stayed at another property until the coronation ball.”
“No agreement was reached. You expressed your concerns for our ward’s safety and suggested that she leave.”
“But—”
“The girl stays,” Hadrian snapped, his fangs flashing.
Waves of violence pulsed through the air. Falcon held up his hands, palms out.
“Okay, fine. Topic dropped.”
Hadrian nodded and pulled a bowl of green grapes from the fridge along with some cheese and thick slices of turkey, left over from the meal Eva had the night the before.
Falcon watched the king as he opened one cupboard after another, withdrawing a plate, a glass, and some crackers. He filled the glass with water, then arranged grapes, cheese, saltines, and meat in a circle on the plate. Surely he was not planning on eating. In all the years he had known Hadrian, he had never seen the vampire eat.
“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Falcon asked.
“When you administered aid to Eva’s wound, did you notice anything unusual?”
Falcon frowned. What did Eva’s injury have to do with anything that just took place between his king and their ward? It was clear Hadrian had not fed from her, if he had, there would have been no reason for him to suck four bags of blood dry.
“No,” he answered. “I washed her hand with some soap then applied a Shaw salve.” Falcon’s words lodged in his throat as realization slapped him, dropping his jaw. “Her hand healed immediately. As a mortal it should have taken at least thirty minutes for her skin to repair itself.”
Falcon wondered how he had not noticed. He should have recognized the sign. Well, my thoughts were preoccupied with Hadrian and worrying if he had gone on a murderous rampage in town.
“There is much more to our ward than even she knows.”
Falcon sank onto one of the stools that lined the breakfast bar of the island.
“What do you mean?”
“Eva is of Shaw heritage.”
“I don’t…how…that is…” Falcon shook his head, trying to organize his thoughts. “I don’t understand.”
“It is simple, her mother was Shaw, her father a shifter,” Hadrian explained with a shrug, his gaze on the plate. Should he rearrange the cheese and cracker? Maybe put the grapes in a bowl?
“What does this mean? Do you think Eva will experience the change?” Falcon leaned forward, his elbows resting on the counter. “No, she shouldn’t. Witch magic is stronger than shifter.” He dropped his head in his hands. “I’ve never heard of such a match.”
“Eva is truly unique,” Hadrian agreed.
“We should reach out to the Shaw. Perhaps they have some record or knowledge about her kind. They may even want to claim her. As a witch, her father has no right to her.”
“I already contacted the witches.”
Falcon waited for Hadrian to continue, but instead, the king returned to the fridge and removed a glass container of sliced strawberries and mangos.
“And,” Falcon prompted.
“I received a visit from the Shaw High Priestess herself.”
Anxiety gripped Falcon’s heart, the pain spreading through his chest, piercing his lungs. The High Priestess did not make house calls for the hell of it.
“There have been others like Eva.”
“Did she say what happened to them?”
“Yes,” Hadrian answered, his voice cold.
The king’s tone sent warning signals off in Falcon’s mind.
“All experienced the transition. None survived.”
Falcon dropped his head to his hands. He felt the blood drain from his face. Eva was such a sweet girl, despite all the crap she had been through in her short life. It did not seem right that she should die, yet biology worked against her. Witches can’t take another form while shifters must in order to survive.
“Eva’s shifter side has lain dormant, waiting for her to reach full maturity. Tonight, when the full moon rises, her shifter cells will awaken and her body will war with itself.”
“The witch in her will fight to suppress the shifter while the shifter will struggle for release,” Falcon said, nodding in understanding. Eva’s body would destroy itself. “Is there something we can do to save her?”
“Yes,” Hadrian’s voice was rough, demonic.
Falcon’s head snapped up, his muscles tensing as he sensed the darkness shift within Hadrian. The king’s eyes flickered between bone chilling black and hell fire ruby. His fangs sharpened as bloodlust radiated from him.
“What?”
Hadrian ran his tongue over his canines. Every second drew her transformation closer. He knew her taste would be unforgettable, just like everything else about her.
You cannot keep her. She is not yours, he reminded himself. He knew making love to her had been a mistake. He should never have allowed her to kiss him. He should never have crushed her to him and he certainly never should have teleported her to his room. No, he would not regret what happened between them, but he could never let it happen again. She was of Shaw decent, she was not bound to the law of the pack nor could she be used for the treaty. She could leave whenever she liked and he would let her. Wouldn’t he?
Hadrian’s thoughts turned dark as he considered the possibilities. He would make sure she lived, he could unite their life forces and he would help her start anew, away from his Clan, her father’s pack, and away from him.
“Hadrian, what did the priestess say?” Falcon pressed.
“She told me how to save Eva.”
“Oh, god, please tell me you aren’t going to try to change her.”
Chapter Nineteen
Hadrian’s features twisted into a mask of disgust. “Never.”
Falcon let out a heavy exhale, “Good. You would surely kill her if you tried.”
“The witch gave me instructions,” Hadrian stated, not wishing to delve into detail. He did not want Falcon knowing his plans. Especially since he had doubt. Silvie had told him how to bind Eva to him, but she had not told him everything. Hadrian sensed there was more to the bonding than what the witch had shared, but he did not have time to think about the possibilities now. “Eva will live.”
“Would you like me to stay? I could delay my trip for a few days and help,” Falcon offered.
“That is unnecessary. Besides, you would be more help to me at the main house. Now that we have discovered the secret of Eva’s heritage, we can no longer hold her as a ward.”
Falcon nodded. As a Shaw descendant, Eva did not fall under shifter law.
“I would like you to terminate our treaty with the Silveria pack.”
“Should I find another shifter group?”
Hadrian shrugged. “If the noble counsel deems it necessary. Our Clan already has a large presence in South America.”
“You do know that without our support the Silveria pack will be destroyed.”
“Arsenio has many enemies,” Hadrian conceded. “If he meets his end, then so be it.”
“What are we going to do with Eva? We can’t keep her here.”
Hadrian pinched the bridge of his nose. No, he could not keep Eva here. And he did not want to keep her. She was not his.
“Once she has recovered from her transition, she will be free to leave. She will finally be able to live the life she has always wanted.”
He would pay for her to relocate to the city of her choice, arrange for an apartment, a car, and schooling. Once she established herself, he would sever all ties. He could erase her from his thoughts, banish her from his dreams, and cherish her in his memories.
“I will set up an account for her,” Falcon said. “Once she has selected a location I will arrange the necessary paper work: birth certificate, identification, passport, social security and the like. Then again, the Shaw may welcome her.”
“If she so desires, she may join their fold. That is where she belongs.” She certainly does not belong with you, he reminded
himself.
“May I speak freely?”
Hadrian’s chest compressed with a heavy sigh. “Yes.”
“I don’t know what is happening between you and Eva, but I can guess.” Hadrian bit back a curse when Falcon waved a hand at him indicating his lack of clothing and he knew he reeked of sex. “Do you really want to let her go?”
“It matters not what I want,” Hadrian flatly stated.
“But what if she wanted to stay?”
“She won’t.”
“Well, I think—”
“I’m insane, Falcon. My mind is broken, my soul nearly nonexistent, I have nothing. It was a miracle I was able to hold back when we…She deserves more.”
“You are a better man than you know,” Falcon said.
Hadrian scrubbed his face with his hands. Gods, he needed a drink. His thoughts were a mess and these new emotions were of no help, only inflicting more pain. His demon snarled, unwilling to let Eva go while his soul wept.
A wave of vanilla rushed the air. His head snapped to the entrance. His lungs expanded as he breathed in that wonderful scent.
“Hadrian,” Eva called as she came running into the kitchen. She slid to a stop, almost tumbling head over ballet flats when her gaze fell on Falcon. His eyes were sharp, studying, probing, as if he were seeing her for the first time. “Your Majesty, Sir Kenwrec, I apologize. I did not mean to interrupt.”
“There is no need for titles,” Hadrian said. “Come in.”
Eva crossed the kitchen to sit beside him at the breakfast bar. Falcon’s gaze moved to his king, who watched Eva with the glowing eyes of a loving predator.
“So, Hadrian told you about the secret lurking in my blood,” Eva asked, shattering the heavy silence that had settled over them.
“Yes. I don’t know if I should congratulate you or offer my condolences.”
Eva playfully punched Falcon’s shoulder. “You could wish me luck. I may die tonight.”
“You will not,” Hadrian snapped.
“I have to say, I really didn’t think I would ever find you in here,” Eva said, her eyes traveling over Hadrian’s bare chest. “I thought you might be in the solarium or out by the lake again.”
“Why did you look here?” Falcon asked.
Eva shrugged. “Instinct.”
Falcon’s eyes narrowed as a frown ceased his brow. Since Hadrian began shielding his power, he had found it nearly impossible to locate the vampire and they shared a blood bond. Hadrian was his maker. But Eva could easily find Hadrian and she had yet to go through her transition. Her shifter instincts were buried.
Falcon was barely able to hide his shock when realization went off in his mind like a bomb. Drive. Eva was experiencing Drive. That was the only explanation. A shifter was drawn to their mate, guided by instinct rather than scent or sight. Eva’s animal spirit recognized Hadrian as her male.
A sudden heart wrenching thought slashed through his mind. Hadrian had not told him what solution the Shaw Priestess had suggested, but Falcon would bet his soul he knew the solution. No potion or spell could save her from such a fate. Eva would die if Hadrian did not bind her to his life force.
Dear, god. Hadrian had no idea what was about to happen.
“I was going to bring this to you,” Hadrian said, pushing the plate and fruit salad towards Eva. “You should eat. You will need your strength.”
Eva accepted the fork Hadrian offered. “Thank you.”
“It was nothing.”
Falcon blinked. Was Hadrian blushing?
Eva began to pick at the fruit. “I guess you know I’m not going with you now,” she said, turning to Falcon.
Falcon swallowed the lump of shock that had formed in his throat. “Yeah.”
“Are you feeling okay? You are paler than usual,” Eva asked.
Hadrian’s gaze fell on him and Falcon shoved his thoughts aside, locking them away. “I think I’m experiencing information overload.”
“Oh, I hear you on that,” she said rolling her eyes.
“Well, I should be going.” Falcon stood. “The snow has let up and I need to take advantage of the break.”
“Drive safely.”
“I want a report every night.”
“I will be careful,” Falcon said giving Eva a smile. Turning to his king, he gave a respectful nod. “I will provide you with all the information that I can and I will only act in the Clan’s best interest.”
“You have my trust,” Hadrian said.
Falcon bowed, turned on his heel and strode from the kitchen.
“How long will he be away?”
He shrugged. “Nearly a week.”
“We are going to be completely alone.”
“Yes. Now, please, eat.”
“I was starving.” Her vision blurred. “But now, I feel kind of weird.”
Her fork slipped from her suddenly trembling fingers. Eva rubbed her nape as a dull pain gathered at the base of her skull. It quickly spread, branching throughout her body, sending sparks of pain to every nerve. Her pulse had spiked, her eyes dilated, and her beautiful, smooth skin was splotchy with fever.
“Hadrian.” She swayed. I don’t f–feel w—”
Chapter Twenty
Hadrian rounded the island and caught her before she hit the floor. Cradling Eva in his arms, he rushed from the kitchen. Her head bounced as he crossed to the stairs, her hair falling over his arm like dark silk, waving. He took the steps two at a time and sped down the hall to her room.
“T–too early,” she whispered, her teeth chattering.
“Save your energy,” he ordered, shoving the door open.
He did not have to glance at the clock on the mantel to know it was just past ten. Shifters did not begin their transformation until midnight, but Eva was not the typical shifter. There were no set rules.
Hadrian pulled back the sheet before gingerly laying her down.
“Cold,” she gasped, her entire body trembling.
“It is the fever,” he said. When Hadrian turned from her she cried out. “Quiet, little one, I’m just going to get a damp towel.”
She nodded, curling to her side, her arms wrapping about her middle. Her eyes lids were heavy. Her lungs burned, her head throbbed, and her body screamed. Nausea rolled over her, bile climbed in her throat as her stomach twisted.
Hadrian quickly returned and she hissed when he pressed the washcloth to her brow.
“I need to undress you,” he said and Eva weakly nodded. If her body were to take another form, the confinement of her clothing would only make it more difficult.
Setting the towel on the nightstand, Hadrian removed her sweater, slipped her jeans free, then made quick work of her undergarments. Her small form that had been trembling in pleasure a mere hour before was now wrecked with pain.
Her lips moved as she tried to speak.
“I will not leave you,” he vowed.
Her quaking smile vanished as a bone shattering cry pierced his soul. Her back bowed. The sickening sound of bones cracking vibrated the air like the snap of a whip. Her eyes rolled back and Eva fell victim to the blackness of unconsciousness.
Hadrian felt a tainted sense of relief. She could no longer feel the pain of her bones breaking and her muscles tearing, but she could easily slip away, surrender to the peace that existed in the darkness.
Her body twisted, contorted, her legs kicked out, her hands twitched, the spasms involuntary. Sweat dripped from her body, soaking the sheets. Tiny whimpers fell from her lips, occasionally she mumbled incoherently. Hadrian wiped at her brow, desperately praying he could take her pain.
It seemed like centuries before the clock struck midnight. The enchanting musical notes fell on deaf ears as everything went silent. Eva became still. Deathly still. Leaning down, he listened intently for her heartbeat, it was slow, weak. Her breaths were alarmingly shallow. The fever broke, leaving her cool to the touch. Her luscious lips tinted blue as the color faded from her skin.
This was it.
Hadrian was disgusted by how easily his fangs lengthened, the vampire was delighted and greedy for a taste.
“Just enough,” he whispered.
Hadrian laced his fingers with hers. With his free hand he brushed away the dampened curls that clung to her neck. He shifted, his chest hovering above her, careful not to touch.
“Just enough,” he said again, his breath brushing her throat.
Control. If he took too much, he would kill her. Eva was already on the brink of death, every breath grew shorter, every heartbeat weaker than the last.
He pressed his lips to her pulse. “Control.”
His fangs sank into the column of her throat, slicing through her artery. Her blood filled his mouth, the sweetest ambrosia. It was like electricity on his tongue. He swallowed and groaned from the intense pleasure. Nothing had ever been more perfect and he doubted he could ever relinquish this heaven. Addictive, just like he knew she would be. Her blood was the right mixture of sugar and spice, the best of vanilla.
Fire spread throughout his body. His heart began to pound with newfound life; he could feel his soul mending. Closing his eyes, he surrendered to the sensations. His mouth fed, frantically drawing her in, welcoming her essence into his body. The darkness in him stirred as he felt her pulse begin to stutter. Her breathing became dangerously slow. He needed to pull away. He needed to stop before he killed her. But, gods, she was wonderful, the definition of perfection.
The air chilled. He could sense the familiar presence of death. He opened his eyes and with a growl, he ripped away. His heart slammed wildly against his ribs, his entire body hummed with life. Beneath him, Eva struggled for breath, her body laboring from the effort.
Hadrian tightened his hold on her fingers as he raised his free hand to his mouth. He drew his wrist across his fangs, tearing open his flesh. Blood flowed in an obliging rush. He pressed the wound to her lips.
“Eva,” he whispered. “Come on, little one, drink.” No response. He squeezed his wrist, forcing the blood to run more freely. Her skin was growing colder with every passing second. “No, Eva. You cannot die.” Releasing her hand, he squeezed her jaw, forcing her mouth open. “Drink. Please, no. Death cannot have you.” He slammed a fist into the mattress; the bed quaked from the impact. “Eva, come back to me.” His words a broken sob.
Caressed by a Crimson Moon (Rulers of Darkness) Page 18
