by Emma Alisyn
A door down the alley slammed and a woman laughed, her voice pitched high. Mateo turned towards the sound. His fangs descended and his vision sharpened. The night held no secrets from a vampyr.
Two mortals, tangled in each other, stumbled down the alley. In a blink, Mateo was there, his hot palm on the male's cheek, forcing direct eye contact, pressing his will inside.
"Watch as I please your woman," Mateo growled. The man's mind and body collapsed. He sat in the alley, eyes glazed with Mateo's spellbinding.
Mateo turned to the woman. At his touch, her curved body melted into his. He heard her pulse race with adrenaline as he spelled her into submissiveness, her head falling back. Mateo took a deep, fortifying breath. Then he plunged his fangs into her throat and drank deeply.
The itch in his gums immediately subsided. It took several more seconds for his heat to abate. He regained control of his senses, dulling his hearing and smell against the thumping music and mix of perfume and beer. The woman in his arms arched, her breathing short. She moaned with each swallow he took, the pitch rising steadily.
Mateo growled against her throat. She clung to him, shifting her body for more contact even as he tried to distance himself. His bite was euphoric, sexually intense, and Mateo had always disliked it. The few vampyrs in the cognate he'd spoken to indicated he was the only one who had a problem. But then, immortality tended to change a person over time.
The woman seized against Mateo suddenly and he ripped himself away before the iron taste of her blood could shift with her climax. She shuddered with ultimate pleasure. Mateo unceremoniously dumped her beside her be-spelled date.
With his vampyr satisfied for the night, he could focus on his assignment. Mateo was aware he was replacing one empty life for another, but he had an obligation, and a loyalty, to the cognate. He'd been allowed to roam free and he'd still been unable to find whatever purpose drove him. It was time to return to the fold. There was one final show to perform.
Calla adjusted the diadem pinching her temples again. A perfectly clear jewel hung from the center, low on her forehead, and she kept catching glimpses of it. The thing was elegant and impractical. It wouldn't last ten seconds in a decent fight.
"You're certain every member of Clan Sanabee is accounted for?" she'd asked her soldier, Annika, earlier. This would be a perfect opportunity to strike the court, when they were relaxed and dressed for play and not combat.
"As certain as we can be," the younger female said. "We have Clan Sillas under surveillance as well. They've shown signs of shifting loyalties."
Of course, this was supposed to be a wedding, not a war. Calla forced herself to leave the head decoration alone, resting her hand instead on the pommel of her dress sword. It was also a show piece, but at least the sword could gut a man. Not as well as Calla could with her claws, but—
Focus. Wedding. Calla frowned at herself and cast her attention around the expansive hall one more time. The court wasn't as full as she'd seen it in the past. Their numbers had been dwindling from years of fighting and even more time under the unsteady claws of the Delphina, ruler of all dragons on Patomas, whom outsiders had dubbed the Mad Queen. But she spotted Oskan and her mate Daedrik standing together and nodded to herself in satisfaction. They had lost three offspring in battle and Daedrik was permanently grounded, yet they found the strength to be here.
Dragons were nothing if not strong both in will and body. Sometimes it was only the stubborn streak of their Khepreian ancestors that kept them going. But still they carried on.
General Takoda stepped up beside Calla and nodded in deference to her station. As the Delphina's lady-in-waiting, Calla answered to very few. As their race's First General, she dictated the lives of most. He was her second, and if she fell in battle he would control the Delphina's armies. Older than her, more politically savvy, he'd been an asset in her stint as First General. And she was damned lucky he was unflinchingly loyal, or else she'd be spending most of her time watching her back.
But with the war with the Sanabees, no one had time for court intrigue.
General Takoda straightened his shoulders and glanced at the ongoing wedding ceremony. "It's good that some of us can find love in this time. I think it gives us all a bit of normal to remind us what we're fighting for."
Calla gazed softly at the officiate and the two women standing before him, hands clasped together. Their eyes shined with pleasure and hope. Calla had been missing both lately.
"It's really too bad," Takoda continued, "that we're too old for that, now. I suppose we warriors were never cut for the more delicate things."
Calla grunted some form of acknowledgement, but dropped her widening eyes to the floor. Was she truly too old for a life outside of war? Had the opportunity passed her by while she served the Delphina and fought for their people? She frowned. Her position gave her status and responsibility, but Calla hadn't set out to build her life this way. Years ago, she wanted to be a doctor. Maybe a physical therapist. But fate had drawn all of them into conflict and Calla's sharp, analytical mind was good at that, too. Did their forty plus years playing war games close her door to romance and family?
She glanced at General Takoda. He was twenty years her senior and every inch a soldier. From his short-cropped hair to the perfect polish of his boots, he lived and breathed for battle. And she was the same, wasn't she? The diadem and the sword were for show, but her hair hadn't flown free over her shoulders in years and the cut of her jacket was pressed perfectly to the curve of her chest. A shield in wool and cotton. She was a daughter of war as much as Takoda was a father of it. She hadn't realized how far she'd traveled from the life she thought she'd have.
Calla took a deep breath to keep calm. General Takoda was wrong. He had to be. Her duty was sacred and Calla would never abandon her Delphina, but there had to be more for her life… right?
She hadn't come to a wedding prepared for a mid-life crisis and thankfully the officiate announced the women before him as Wife and Wife, mated for life. The distraction was welcome. The court applauded and cheered, and dancing broke out in the middle of the floor. General Takoda offered his hand to her and Calla took it quickly, eager for a change of pace.
Unfortunately, the measured pace of the dance couldn't draw her attention. She stepped and spun in time with Takoda's lead, but as he turned her on the floor, Calla spotted the Delphina in a cut-away recess along the wall of the court. She looked sad. She'd taken the crown off her head and cradled it gently in her palms, leaning heavily against the marble wall.
Calla's heart broke for her queen. For fifty years, their people had been at war, defending their right and their title to the land of their ancestors. And for thirty of those years, the royal family had been devastated and scattered. The Delphina's own dragonlings, kidnapped from their cribs, were still missing. Much of the court presumed them to be dead. Their enemies had stolen into the court itself and wrought more damage than they'd ever know. The queen mourned, her madness persisted, and Calla knew it was because she still hoped. Her children were out there somewhere, adults now, and one day they would come home. There were days her sanity held on by a thread—and often Calla was the one on the other end, keeping it from unraveling. The court knew—if anything ever happened to the Delphina's First General…
The dance ended and before General Takoda could hand her off, Calla made her abrupt departure. It was rude, but no one called her out. Instead, she approached her ruler. The woman wore her grief like a shawl. It wrapped around her shoulders and weighed heavy on her brow.
Calla flowed gracefully to one knee, head bowed low, and murmured, "The Delphina rules." It was a formal show her monarch disliked but they were in a formal setting and damn if Calla wouldn't be an example for the rest of the court to follow. War and madness might take their kingdom, but not without a stubborn fight.
She rose without being acknowledged. "Is there anything I can get you?" She pitched her voice low, striving to create some space of privacy in the
open ballroom.
The queen's pale eyes shifted slowly to her. She lifted one hand from the crown in her lap, but it fell again without any direction. "It's like a sunset," she said softly.
Calla pressed her lips together. In recent years, the only times she'd seen the Delphina lucid was in the heat of battle. Though it drooped now, her body was hard and powyrful in its prime. Her wings were whole and hale. And her claws could tear the scales off their enemies. In battle, she had a purpose. But here in the court she was haunted by the ghosts of her missing children.
"I'll take her from here, First General."
Calla startled back at the Pythian's deep voice. She bowed before him, as usual in awe of his perfectly pressed suit and the line of his warrior sash across his chest. The queen's co-ruler suffered more acutely than any of them, and yet his resolve never wavered. He put a soft hand on his mate's shoulder and guided her to her feet. "Come, there's a light meal waiting for you in the hall."
The queen stood, though never seemed to notice her husband beside her. It had been so since their children had disappeared. Another facet of her madness that the court couldn't understand but had come to accept.
Calla watched them exit the court without fanfare, unwilling to interrupt what should have been a joyous day for their people. A marriage in the middle of an unending war. She gripped her hands into tight fists. Something had to change. Soon. They couldn't go on like this forever.
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About the Author
Emma Alisyn writes paranormal romance because teaching high school biology wasn’t like how it is on television. Her lions, tigers, and bears will most interest readers who like their alphas strong, protective and smokin’ hot; their heroines feisty, brainy and bootilicious; and their stories with lots of chemistry, tension and plenty of tender moments.
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