by Jayne Rylon
Reborn
Jayne Rylon
Reborn
Published by Happy Endings Publishing
Copyright 2009 Jayne Rylon
Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky
Cover Art by Angela Waters
Formatted by IRONHORSE Formatting
eBook ISBN: 978-1-94178-506-5
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www.JayneRylon.com
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Thanks For Reading!
Cool Gear For Bibliophiles!
Sneak Peek – Picture Perfect
About The Author
Other Books by Jayne Rylon
Jayne Recommends…
Chapter One
One week ago
“You’re sure, Amystia? You’re ready?”
My heart soars at the idea. I’ve craved this for nearly three centuries. “We’ve only been waiting for Warren to decide for certain. Since he’s rejected Sylvia, he’s exhausted the list of possible mates. He hasn’t shown even a glimmer of interest in another for ages.”
I had watched as my mate, King Dagan, bid farewell to the stunning young vampire who’d requested a personal audience. Only millennia of experience in tempering my reactions had prevented me from dancing on my throne when she divulged her news.
Dagan flashes me a radiant grin, broad enough to permit a glimpse of his razor-sharp canines. The unmitigated joy radiating from him thrills me to the core. He crushes me in his arms then whirls us both around. We spin ten feet off the parquet floor of the royal chambers. My ornate dress fans out behind us. For once I am glad of the formal attire I’m forced to wear to match my station as Queen of the United Vampiric Covens. The beaded lace bodice and flowing silk train seem fitting for the proposal we’re about to make. Not to mention the military cut jacket, embroidered with the symbols of his ultimate rank, which hugs Dagan’s impressive build.
“I don’t want to wait another moment.” I rest my forehead on Dagan’s brow while I stroke his smooth cheek. The intensity of his maroon eyes still has the power to shock me. Especially when he’s as aroused as he is now.
“We’ve waited long enough. Where is he?” Dagan trails his lips along the pulse hammering in my throat as I close my eyes then search the castle for the other half of my heart. I’m always able to sense his presence.
“The laboratory. He seems… agitated.”
Dagan smoothes the furrow of my brow then scoops me into his arms. “No need to worry, love. He’s probably just frustrated over dismissing another very willing companion. You know how it disturbs him to injure anyone’s pride. Shall we cheer him up?”
“Let’s.”
I squeeze my eyes closed as my mate flies along the corridors to Warren’s tower. I never have gotten used to the way the two of them zip from point to point instead of gliding at a more sedate pace. As we near, a series of crashes reverberates through the stone foundations of the castle.
“Dagan…” An ominous frisson of warning tugs at my nerves. “Perhaps we should come back later. He’s not responding to my calls.”
Though all vampires have paranormal talents, mine have always been strongest when sensing and communicating with loved ones, even from great distances. Just a few hundred yards away now, and closing rapidly as we climb the spiral staircase, I should be able to hold a conversation with Warren. Yet I cannot dent the vampire sorcerer’s concentration on his task.
“I won’t waste even one more hour, Amystia. He’ll have to resume his experiment tomorrow. Or maybe next week, after we’ve finished celebrating.” Dagan barges through the oak plank door without so much as knocking.
The soaring bookcases that line every inch of the curved walls of Warren’s sanctuary come into view as I blink open my eyes. Then a streak of black whizzes toward my face. Before I can react, Dagan twists to the side and drops me. Whatever was flying at me slams into the left half of my mate’s chest with enough impact to launch him into the air over my head.
I stare, horrified, as he catapults through a row of beakers and other assorted glassware on the table nearby before destroying four entire shelves of ancient tomes with his limp body. Why didn’t he slow himself?
“Dagan!” I rush to his side only to find him unconscious, something I’ve never seen in all our years together. Not even when he’d been ambushed by forty young rebels, or after he’d been hit by a tank, had he wavered before his injuries healed over seconds later. But now he lies crumpled on the stonework.
I pivot, searching for Warren. He’s standing across the open space, his hand outstretched toward the line of targets he’d been aiming at before we intruded. Abject terror freezes his expression.
“Help him,” I shout. “Warren!”
A blur streaks toward me. Then he is there, kneeling at my side.
“What have I done?” he wails as he drags Dagan from the rubble. “Dagan. Please wake up. Please.”
Buttons pop off the fancy coat I had so recently admired. The dusty, ripped fabric is cast aside as Warren searches for the injury that has felled the mightiest vampire in recorded history.
I cradle Dagan’s ultra-pale face while Warren examines my mate. My voice will not work as I wish. Instead, I reach out with my mind.
Wake up, Dagan. You’re frightening Warren.
Amystia.
Relief dissolves the alarm flooding me when he responds, though the slight waver in his tone concerns me.
Are you all right, love? That… evil… headed straight for you. What the hell was that?
I’m fine, Dag. You have to come back now. Ask Warren yourself.
A ragged groan accompanies the flicker of his eyes opening. The sheen of lust that had brightened them has vanished but he’ll recover within minutes. As he has done every other time he’s sustained critical injuries in battle.
“Dagan!” Warren grasps his shoulders then props him against a cabinet.
“What exactly are you researching up here, Advisor? And when can we equip the guards with that spell?”
I grin at the attempted humor though Warren only stares in shock.
“It’s not something to joke of. I shouldn’t have attempted it on-site. Reckless! At least I didn’t perform the incantation correctly.” He rakes his fine-boned fingers through his mussed hair as he mumbles to himself, a habit I adore.
“What are you saying? I’d be tempted to believe I hit my head harder than I thought but you never make sense when you rant about your studies.” Dagan rubs
one hand over his torso. The motion draws my attention to his sculpted form and the charred starburst covering his abdomen. That certainly hadn’t been there this morning.
“It’s something that could keep us from war forever. The ultimate weapon, devised by the ancients. I thought I’d patched together the proper spell several weeks ago. But I had shelved further trials. They’re too risky.” A grimace mars his youthful visage. “Forgive me, Dagan. Today I required a distraction…”
“We heard about Sylvia.” I bridge the gap between the men. One hand cups Dagan’s jaw while the other rests on Warren’s shoulder. Their fingers rise to mine, curling over my hands.
“I couldn’t accept her. It wasn’t fair to promise her something I don’t have to give. My heart is not my own.”
I want to ease the dejection in his eyes.
Don’t reveal our plans, Amystia. Not like this. Let’s wait until tonight. I’ll be recovered by then. We’ll make it special for us all. He deserves that.
Warren’s gaze flickers to the ugly mark, which still isn’t fading. “Are you certain you’re not suffering? The spell is intended to be lethal to our kind. Resistant to all cures, even magic.”
“It burns, though not much. I’m positive it will be a distant memory by dinner.”
But it wasn’t.
Chapter Two
Three days later
I cling to the ladder as I knock an inch of dust from the antique volumes ringing the top levels of Warren’s laboratory. I refuse to glance down. I’ve never mastered levitating myself.
The cure has to be here. It’s my final hope. We’ve already searched through every other tome in the palace. Vague references, veiled allusions and fragmented instructions are the best we’ve uncovered.
“Amystia, be careful!” Dagan’s concerned bellow sounds hollow to me. Tingles run along my spine as he reaches out with his power. A few days ago, it would have supported me as sure as an iron fist but now I’m certain I would fall straight through the weak likeness of his former ability and plummet to the stone below if I let go. Though I’d heal soon enough, there is not a moment to spare.
Warren’s essence mixes with Dagan’s as he lassoes both the books and me, then controls our descent to the floor. How can I not care for a man who protects my mate’s ego?
Dagan’s brow is dotted with sweat but satisfaction tugs one corner of his mouth into a somber grin. “Perhaps the sickness is not as bad as it seems.”
How I wish that were true.
“You should be in bed, resting.” Warren joins us by the entryway where Dagan leans propped against the doorframe.
“I have things to attend to, things that need to be addressed. Until they are resolved, my mind cannot settle.” He scrubs his palm over his jaw.
Warren loops his arm around Dagan’s shoulder. The gesture would seem friendly if I didn’t realize how much of Dagan’s weight he supports as he guides my mate to his private chambers. I curl up on the rich brocade covering Warren’s bed. Dagan joins me, sitting with his shoulders against the headboard.
I rest my head in his lap, biting my lip to keep from sobbing. Warren lounges on the other side of Dagan’s trim hips.
“What’s bothering you, my friend?” Warren falls into the familiar routine. As Dagan’s key advisor, he often acts as a sounding board.
“It’s clear that unless we uncover a miracle, I am going to die.”
I gasp. We have avoided the truth for three days. Hearing the blunt declaration rips my heart in two. How can I bear to live without him?
“Do not give up hope yet. We have found references to a ritual that could reverse the effects of the spell.” Warren’s confidence bolsters my hope but when I peer into his face, I see the tears in his eyes. He does not believe.
“A fool’s errand, friend. Attempting such magic on the rumor of legend is folly. You would only destroy yourself. That cannot be allowed. When I am gone, you must look after Amystia.”
The intensity of Dagan’s determination would frighten even the most badass vamp but Warren merely nods.
“You still trust me?” His coarse whisper cannot contain the boundless agony I sense in him.
“We adore you, Warren. Our people rely on you. They will need you.”
He abandons the bed, pacing the room. “They should destroy me for what I have done!”
“Come here.” The order from his king is undeniable.
Warren sinks onto the mattress once more.
“You have been our closest friend, and sometimes lover, for nearly a thousand years. Do you not yet realize the respect I have for you? I instructed the council that, should I fall, Amystia will rule with you by her side. They could hope for no better leaders. That is not my concern.” Dagan’s hand wanders over the shocked features of Warren’s face. “Do not make me leave this world with even a sliver of doubt. Prove to me that you will not let my mate suffer for your guilt. You must take her, hold her, shelter her. Always.”
“I swear to you that I will.” With his gaze still averted, Warren grips Dagan’s wrist with enough force that my mate winces. He is worsening by the minute.
“Show me that you can still love her though you no longer look me in the eye.”
My jaw goes slack as I realize Dagan’s intent. “You’re ill!”
“I’m not so sick that I can’t savor the most glorious thing on earth. I want to share you one last time.” The pure devotion in his eyes makes arguing impossible.
Warren groans beside me. “It’s difficult to be gentle when everything inside me rages against injustice. I won’t touch her without control.”
“I cannot rest until you do. Grant me this peace of mind.”
Dagan strokes my hair where it drapes over his thigh. I would do anything to soothe him, either of them. Warren’s pain affects me too. As usual, our king is right. We must take this chance to love together one final time or Warren will never recover. I cannot lose them both.
I shift on the bed, lying on my back between Dagan’s spread legs, my head propped on his chest. His thick arousal nudges my spine. Untying the laces that cross the front of my long robe, he spreads the fabric wide in the wake of his hands. A cool breeze fans across my bare breasts and the slick flesh between my thighs. Memories assault me, making my pussy weep for all the pleasure Dagan and Warren have given me through the ages.
“Ah yes, you smell delicious, love. Intoxicating.”
I should feel some dose of remorse that, even as my mate deteriorates, I hunger for both him and the man we had intended to bond as our permanent third. Instead, all I can do is surrender to the instincts that urge me to accept their touch.
Dagan cups my neck in his hand, sending shivers along the length of my spine as I recall the times he has drained his fill from me. The fingers of his other hand swirl over my collarbones, between my breasts then along my arm, making me squirm with the need for more.
“Get drunk on her, Warren.”
Our lover shoots me an uncertain glance. I widen the vee of my thighs, inviting him to sample the arousal he has inspired. Faster than I can detect, he flies from his perch on the edge of the bed. His tongue swipes along the cleft of my sex, gathering the dew from my lips.
“Yes, take more of her.”
Warren moans as he buries his face in my pussy, devouring my sopping flesh with desperate laps. He flicks his talented tongue around my opening, dipping inside just enough to tease before tracing the valley of my labia to my clit. When his lips envelop the bundle of nerves, the pleasure threatens to drown me.
I arch into Dagan’s hold. The position tilts my head back until Dagan’s mouth descends on mine. He claims me with a fierce kiss that shows me just how much he enjoys watching our lover consume me.
He cups my breasts, kneading the globes. My nipples stab his palms. Familiar lust overtakes my senses. I abandon all thought and embrace sensation.
My knees press closer to my torso when Warren spreads his fingers beneath my knees, pushing them up and apa
rt. The pressure lifts my rear from the duvet, clearing a path for Warren to extend his laving to Dagan’s tight balls. The six-pack abs of my mate flex against my spine, making his cock jerk between us.
“Overachiever.” Dagan growls against my lips.
Our lover’s wicked tongue lashes us both. The pulsing aura of the men’s passion surrounds me, enhancing my own pleasure. I writhe in their grasp. The motion grinds my ass against Dagan’s cock. I wish I could tip forward enough to take him inside me but he subdues my struggles with the band of his muscular arms around my waist.
“No, love,” he whispers. “I want Warren to take you. I need to know he still can.”
The younger vampire lifts his head from where he’d been working my clit with soft pulls of his full lips even as he caressed Dagan’s wrinkled sac. I whimper in frustration. Despite the inferno burning inside my belly, I am still frightened, empty.
I need to be possessed—reassured that I will not suffer alone, as self-centered as that may be.
I squirm from between my lovers then turn onto my hands and knees to present myself to Warren. His fingers tremble as they curl around my hips. Yet he makes no move to enter me. He has always been eager before.
My lips nuzzle the engorged shaft of Dagan’s hard-on. If one of them does not take me soon I will impale myself on their flesh. My breasts are heavy as they hang beneath me, my restless motion dragging my nipples over the intricate embroidery of the coverlet.
Warren teases my flanks with featherlight strokes of his fingertips. Still, he hesitates.
“She needs you, Dagan. I’m a pale imitation. The bastard who has stolen her king. I don’t deserve a reward for that.”
“She deserves a mate. One who loves her as you do. Take what she’s offering. Don’t hurt her further.”
I realize I’m crying only when Dagan dashes the tears from my cheeks. He licks the liquid from his hand. The tingle of his power washes over me. He reaches for Warren. The energy is no longer enough to force compliance but it still clarifies his demand. It wraps around the base of Warren’s solid erection then tugs him toward my waiting pussy.
