An Overlord had entered the ceremonial room at some point while I’d been sparring. I hadn’t even noticed, my thoughts too grim and heart-constricting.
I grunted and raised a hand at my guard. He stopped instantly, and I nodded my head in thanks. I turned to the Overlord while my bodyguard discreetly backed away into the shadows—on the opposite wall as the Overlord’s bodyguard (the one who went with him everywhere and usually frightened the shit out of me) so they could both protect us from different angles.
I swung my short swords in small circles, eyeing the man who had interrupted my practice. He was just as delicious as always, but the lord had been avoiding any personal contact with me the past couple of days. Not that I blamed him. I hadn’t been in the right frame of mind—still wasn’t.
With a bored flare, I asked, “Lock yourself out of your room again, Lord Belshazzar?”
He flicked a piece of dirt off the shoulder of his pristine suit, rather annoyed with the flake for having landed there. “No, I had that fixed the night after the Blood Rite.” The night he’d had to spend in my room.
“Hmm.” I kept swinging my swords. “That’s a shame.”
He bent over and started untying his dress shoes, his eyes peeking up at me through the fall of his long, thick black hair. Those ice blue eyes flared in heat, desire aimed straight at me—heady and lethal and delicious. A black eyebrow lifted as he placed one shoe and a sock on a stone next to him, baring one foot. “All you have to do is call me. As long as I’m free, there’s no reason to use a locked room as an excuse.”
My cheeks turned pink, and I glanced at my bodyguard in the shadows. Phoenix was doing a damn good job of pretending not to listen to us. Good man. I turned my attention to the Overlord. My head jerked back an inch in surprise. He was standing right in front of me now, his minty scent and his heat invading my personal space…with both of his shoes and his socks back on the rock across the room. I peered down at his bare toes.
He wiggled them under my inspection.
They were perfect and adorable. Fuck.
I blinked up at him. “What are you doing?”
He lifted his left hand and tucked a lock of my black hair behind my ear, a few stray pieces now hanging around my face from fighting. His blue eyes watched this action closely, and his deep rumble was soft. “You and I are going to spar until you’re no longer thinking about the dead.”
Subtle, he was not.
My mouth snapped shut. I hissed, “Don’t.”
Adelie was off limits.
He shrugged his massive shoulders, continuing to mess with my earlobe. “You’re out of practice from your recent Rest, and I won’t go as easy on you as Phoenix did. And, in the end, all you’ll be thinking about is me.”
I scoffed. “Your ego is as big as this mountain.”
“Bigger.” His plump lips curved up at the corners and his ice blue eyes met mine again as he lowered his hand.
I sighed and lifted my eyes heavenward.
Lord Belshazzar took a step forward and pressed his hard, muscled body against mine. His head dipped low, and he placed his warm, soft lips against the ear he’d been playing with. His breath puffed against my flesh as he murmured casually, “Then we’ll go back to my room and fuck all night long, celebrate your new crown.”
My lower stomach instantly warmed with his heated promise, and my lips twitched as I took a step back from him and raised my swords. “So, this is all in an effort to have my direct attention later?”
“Something like that.” He chuckled and peered over my head. He raised his left hand and snapped his fingers. “Phoenix, give me your sword.”
Nothing happened.
The wolf howled outside.
Lord Belshazzar winked at me, swordless. “The invented cousins have been coveted by every king and queen for the past thousand years for their royal guard. Phoenix and Crow have turned them all down.”
I merely lifted a brow, not lowering my swords or showing my surprise at that fact. Instead, I deadpanned. “It’s obviously my amazingness that brought them running.”
I would figure out why they’d really decided I was the one to throw their hats in with, to turn everyone else down, but say yes to me. There was a reason there—even if it was just boredom. I’d know it soon enough.
“Perhaps that’s true.” Not a real answer from the man. Bel leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine, grinning against my lips when I didn’t falter in my stance, my swords still at the ready. He bit my lower lip with his blunt teeth and tugged on it before releasing my mouth—right as our heartbeats had started to connect, only to separate instantly when he pulled back. The lord stood to his full, intimidating height and snapped his fingers behind him. “Sword, Orin.”
His bodyguard immediately relinquished one of his weapons, pitching it into the air with his vampire speed.
Lord Belshazzar twisted and caught the handle in mid-flight, holding the sword in the air like a striking scorpion in my direction. His grin was wicked in the face of my sour expression. “I won’t play nice, your majesty. But I won’t kill you either. Don’t worry your pretty little head too much.”
I griped, “Thanks, Lord Belshazzar. That’s extraordinarily kind of you.”
The man launched at me.
Shit. Shit. Shiiiit.
I spun, barely missing impalement.
Was that a piece of my hair flying through the air?
What the fuck?
My eyes narrowed, and my grip tightened on my swords. I charged the ancient lord head on.
Our swords clashed together in the silence.
I ducked under his lifted arm, using my smaller stature to advantage. As he spun around to face me, I slashed one sword in the air, my other meeting his sword above our heads.
His blue eyes blinked. I grinned.
We both stalled, watching as a piece of silky black hair floated down through the air between us, landing like a feather onto the ground next to the identical section of black hair already lying there from my head.
The vain lord lifted his gaze and scowled. “How about we don’t butcher each other’s hair? I think we’re even now.”
“Agreed.” I chuckled and shoved away from him.
Each clang of our swords was invigorating, pulsing inside my veins, when, before with Phoenix, I’d just been going through the motions. With Lord Belshazzar, my cheeks flushed, not only from exertion but also from excitement. The Overlord kept me on my toes, pushing me harder…and then harder. My blue eyes sparkled with merriment, only matched by his own, the lord smirking with each dirty trick I tried on him—and failed at.
Then I tripped backward over a downed rock.
A sudden smack on my ass kept me from falling backward, my eyes widening as I stumbled to a stop, amazed to still be on my feet. The lord hadn’t appeared to move from in front of me, except for his long black hair that mysteriously blew to the side in a strong breeze. I pointed one of my swords at him, muttering in shock, “Yeah, none of that shit, my lord.”
The Overlord snorted, roguish allure dancing in his frosty eyes. He teased in his deep tone, “I’ll let you fall on your ass next time, your majesty.”
I rotated my wrists.
Christ. I hadn’t had this much fun in a while.
With a grin etched on my face, I charged him again. The lord met me blow for blow, the jarring in my arms satisfying. Moisture dotted my brow and his, both of us working up a healthy sweat. It was a perfect dance of battle.
Until it wasn’t.
I grunted when I missed the kick aimed at the back of my legs. No smack on my ass saved me this time.
I went down on my back but quickly rolled to the side when his sword followed me down. I bounced back up to my feet, meeting his next blow. I tried not to pout. I really did.
Lord Belshazzar chuckled quietly, even as he kept his attack steady. “You asked for it, Gwen.”
“Shut up,” I grouched. I swung again.
Hell, I was already dirty
.
I dropped to the ground in a flurry of movement, catching him by surprise and knocking his balance off kilter, his swing way off. I shoved both feet right into the front of his thighs as hard as I could. I was back on my feet before he even landed on the ground. I smirked down at him, relishing the look of revulsion on his face when he looked up from the blood-mud, just barely catching himself from face-planting into the mess—now in a push-up position.
I mumbled, “Oops.”
A sardonic black brow lifted. “Oops? Really?”
I nodded. “Oops.”
He stared, his lips lifting into a grin, his eyes heated with playful pleasure. “You’re going to pay for that.”
Fuck me. In the best possible way, please.
An embarrassing giggle escaped my lips when I was suddenly swordless and lifted off my feet by an equally swordless Overlord. My back slammed into the wall closest to us. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. I pretended to scowl, but the effect failed as a burst of laughter leapt up from deep within my belly.
I shook my head, my white smile brash in the cave of doom. “Why didn’t you stop yourself from falling?”
“My reasons are my own.” Lord Belshazzar tipped his face closer to mine, his head tilting to the side in concentrated thought. His minty scent was welcome, and I pulled him even closer. Our lips brushed together at the closeness, and he blinked, back to reality, our racing heartbeats beginning to beat as one—already. He whispered in a husky tone, “You’re actually very skilled with the sword. Against anyone else, you would have taken them down with that move.”
“My grandfather made sure I had the best mentors.” I moaned softly in complaint when he didn’t kiss me. “What are you waiting for?”
He tipped his head to the right, his eyes still on mine with his lips brushing my mouth softly as he spoke in irritation. “For Orin to move his fucking ass out of here.”
I jerked my attention to the side, catching the ordinarily stoic guard’s expression—the man standing directly next to us. Apparently, we’d landed right beside him. Complete shock radiated off him in waves before he quickly took three steps away from us—the expression wasn’t disappearing though. It looked firmly planted on his face, frozen that way. I hadn’t even detected he was there, my attention entirely on the lord I’d wrapped myself around.
“I know it’s been forever since you’ve seen me want to fuck someone, Orin. But that is not what I meant,” Lord Belshazzar stated slowly. He cast his blue eyes on his loyal bodyguard, his gaze narrowing to dangerous slits. “If you won’t leave us alone, then go stand over there by Phoenix, for fuck’s sake.”
His mouth bobbed for a second. “My apologies, Lord Belshazzar.” Any shock he may have been expressing was quickly gone, his normal fearsome, professional persona back in action. “Due to your new desire for privacy, may I make a suggestion, my lord?”
Lord Belshazzar ground his teeth together, his fingers gripping my thighs tighter with restraint. “If you must.”
Orin flicked a finger toward the entrance and picked up his sword from where the lord had tossed ours, his voice quiet, “I believe someone is coming.”
Chapter Eight
~ Gwynnore ~
Lord Belshazzar jolted against me, his eyes narrowing at the entrance. I couldn’t hear shit, but he was quickly setting me down on my feet and muttering curse words under his breath at his lack of attention. Our heartbeats separated instantly. When he stopped grumbling and started straightening his clothes, I did the same.
I grabbed my swords off the ground and twitched one at Phoenix, now able to hear someone getting closer. They were still a ways off, but they were headed in this direction—the ceremonial chamber, the only room at this end of the stronghold—their shoes clicking loudly on the stone.
My head tilted, listening to the whistling.
My eyes narrowed at the old, familiar tune.
A song I hadn’t heard since I was a child.
I glanced at Lord Belshazzar and reluctantly put away my swords. I mouthed, My father.
Lord Belshazzar ran his fingers through his hair with much irritation. He motioned for me to start walking and fell into step beside me, grabbing his shoes and socks as we moved. We didn’t bother talking, as it would have been eavesdropped on. We strolled out of the room at a laid-back pace, our guards behind us.
While we walked together in the dimly lit hallway, the lord glanced at me, lifting one brow in a silent question.
My lips twitched at his vexed regard, the unintended cockblock my father had caused. I nodded my head in an affirmative to his subtle question. I would go to Lord Belshazzar’s room for a night of sex—if my father didn’t ruin the mood completely.
Lord Belshazzar’s bare footsteps were silent like my boots on the ground. Only thirty seconds later, my father turned a corner in front of us, his whistling cutting off when he noticed my returning scowl at the tune, though he wasn’t surprised to see someone there, his hearing better than mine. His own guard followed closely behind him.
Lord Cato’s scrutiny darted all over us, registering the filth on our bodies, his nostrils flaring and taking in the scent of the blood-mud. His dark brows furrowed as he stopped in front of us, asking frankly, “What the hell happened to you two?”
“Sparring,” I muttered. “Fun times.”
My father took in my extremely dirty appearance compared to Lord Belshazzar’s relatively clean suit. He snickered under his breath. His brown eyes returned to mine. “Real fun, it looks like.” Lord Cato’s attention zeroed in on any piece of flesh that was visible, giving my person a more in-depth perusal. “He didn’t—”
“None of it’s her blood,” Lord Belshazzar rumbled, cutting him off. “I didn’t hurt her.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I griped, ire and disbelief blasting through me like an erupting volcano. The tremble in my hands was noticeable. I shoved past my father and his guard. I flicked a glare behind me. “You didn’t give a shit about me for the last thousand years. There’s no need to start now.”
“Gwynnore…” Lord Cato sighed heavily to my retreating back—and the special finger I lifted in his direction at my name falling from his lips. “I was coming down here to find you, sweetling. Now that your Challenges are over, we can sit down and talk—on a personal level.”
“Fuck that,” I muttered as I turned the corner, out of their sight. I kept marching away, my guard silent on my heels. Ruin the mood? Yes, of course, the asshole did.
Lord Belshazzar stayed behind, talking to my father.
I kept on moving. More than peeved.
Once I hit the elevators, a blast of wind hit me.
Lord Belshazzar ran his fingers through his hair.
His guard eventually showed up.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened.
The four of us moved inside.
With our silent guards standing in front of us, and Orin typing in the access code, per normal for protection in tight enclosures, I crossed my arms and tapped my right foot waiting for the elevator to open again on the royal floor.
Lord Belshazzar glanced down at me. Eyed my person for many tense moments. When I didn’t look up at him, he snorted, his tone derisive and blunt. “You’re really going to let him ruin our evening?”
“With respect…fuck off,” I muttered.
But my foot did quit tapping.
A suspicious snort came from my “mute” bodyguard in front of me. Though he didn’t move at all, as if he were in Rest.
And there was my reason the two mute guards were with me right there. I knew I’d figure it out soon. My father had just been crowned king back when they’d requested turning their human lover into a vampire—and he’d denied the request, it never even making it to the Overlords. Their human lover had died many, many years ago. A mere side note in their profiles, not as if it hadn’t devastated them to the point they’d withdrawn from the world. It was two middle fingers lifted in my fath
er’s direction by picking me to protect, a person he’d hurt too.
They were still bitter.
I snapped my brows together. I stared at the back of my bodyguard’s blond head. “Actually, I have something to discuss with my guards.”
Phoenix’s back stiffened.
Lord Belshazzar’s icy gaze met mine.
I should have known. The man did everything with a purpose. Everything. A simple lift of his brow to the right person could mean the end of an empire.
He’d wanted me to be aware, his words spot on.
I stared into his eyes. My lips pinched in aggravation.
Fuck, I really wanted to keep them.
The lord scratched at his black whiskers that were shadowing his jaw this late at night. He studied me for a full two seconds, reading what was in my gaze. With an eyebrow lifted, he inquired bluntly, “Do you want me to handle it or do you want to?”
I uncrossed my arms and rubbed at my forehead.
It had been a long damn day.
Staring at my boots, not wanting to show my relief he’d asked to help with men I knew I couldn’t best, I waved a hand at him.
The elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, and my bodyguard was lifted off his feet and restrained against a wall. A knife was pressed to his throat and the lord’s other forearm held Phoenix in place. All of this materialized before I could even blink, none of how it happened registered in my brain. It just was.
Orin stared in astonishment, having been shoved to the side—now with the lord’s shoes and socks in his possession—blinking the confusion out of his eyes. He quickly recovered with a bored shrug of his shoulders and a scowl down at the footwear in his hands.
My jaw hung open, and my palms gripped the railing behind me from the jar of the elevator’s sudden stop.
Lord Belshazzar placed his face right in front of Phoenix’s, speaking in a normal, peaceful tone, “If you move, you’re dead.”
Phoenix closed his mouth. Glowered.
But he didn’t move to retaliate.
The lord nicked my bodyguard’s throat.
Just a drop of blood on his knife.
He removed the blade from his prey’s throat and dabbed the crimson dot onto his tongue. He rolled it around inside his mouth, keeping his calm gaze on his target. His throat bobbed as he swallowed all the memories down…then he dropped my bodyguard back onto the floor, watching him land agilely onto his feet.
King of Gods (Vampire Crown Book 2) Page 9
