Caressed by a Crimson Moon (Rulers of Darkness) (14 page)

Eva shoved her doubt aside. They had come this far and there was no turning back. She gave a silent prayer in the hopes that she would not regret her decision and took in a deep breath. She had to focus on creating a cohesive sentence. Her mind was consumed with desire, her body burning with need, but she would give him exactly what he wanted. She may be a virgin, but shy was not an element in her personality.

“Vampire,” she bit out as if it were a curse, “I want you to take me. I want you to drive your cock into me again and again. I want you to make me come so hard I scream.”

His growl shook the room as he tore her panties from her. The destroyed silk drifted to the floor as he pulled her hips roughly against him. He dipped a long finger inside her and began to circle her clit with his thumb.

Eva’s arms weakened and she slid further along the desk. He inserted a second finger, curling them upward. The delectable sensation sent her over the edge. Her back arched, her nails bit into the desk, marring its smooth façade as she wildly rocked her hips against his hand. He groaned as he followed her rhythm, thrusting his shaft against her backside.

“You’re so tight,” he hissed past his fangs.

Eva came with a scream, her inner muscles clenching his fingers. Her body shook as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. Hadrian did not stop, forcing her to ride out her pleasure as he continued to work her with his hand. Glorious tension began to build within her again as he stoked her passion to dangerous heights.

She heard his zipper release. Licking her lips in anticipation, she reached out to steady herself, preparing for his invasion. Her hand brushed something cool and sharp, an annoying sting penetrated her lust-clouded mind.

Hadrian frozen and Eva groaned. She could not wait anymore.

“No. No, don’t stop,” she gasped between pants, vaguely aware of the sticky moisture pooling beneath her palm.

She pressed her hips back in invitation, but he released her. Unable to support herself on trembling legs, Eva sagged against the desk. Was he taking off his pants? Eva peeked over her shoulder—Hadrian was still as a grave, his face etched with harsh lines of hunger, his black eyes sharp and feral. His chest heaved, the sound of his ragged breathing was deafening as he fought to maintain control.

She tried to push herself up, but her hand slipped and she fell to her elbows.

“What the hell?” she whispered, glancing down. A gold letter opener rested just beneath her fingers.

Blood.

Rivulets of crimson snaked down her fingers and smeared over the desk. The sight was as effective as a bucket of ice water, extinguishing her lust.

Eva cautiously stood, careful to make no sudden movements. Her skirt fell down her legs. She did not bother looking for her shirt as she turned to face the vampire.

Hadrian took a step back. His hands fisted at his side, his muscles strained from the effort to remain still.

His black as death eyes remained fixated on her hand. Eva tried to will herself to stop bleeding, but she was not a vampire and could not command her body to heal. And her mixed blood prevented her from healing as quickly as a purebred.

“Your blood,” he said, his voice deep and harsh, no longer his own. “So…sweet. You smell so sweet. Like warm vanilla sugar.” His tongue traced over one long fang then the other.

Hadrian struggled to look away as memories assailed him. The scent of her blood acted as a catalyst. Images of Imbrasus slaughtering whole shifter packs made his stomach roll. The taste of virginal shifter blood filled his mouth as Imbrasus greedily fed from a young woman’s thigh. God, Eva’s blood would be even better, the right blend of spices. She was the perfect combination of…

Attack. Pin her down. Take her body. Take her blood.

Hadrian trembled as he grappled with his demon. Using every bit of self-control he possessed to restrain his basic instincts, he rasped, “Scream.”

Chapter Thirteen

Eva felt her cheeks pale and her eyes widen with alarm.

A demon stood before her, ready and eager for a kill. A terrified chill shook her as he licked his lips, then his fangs. The whites of his eyes were completely consumed by unholy black; their depths glowed red hot, like flames in the bowls of hell.

In that moment, she knew she was staring at death.

He wanted her to scream, but her throat was too tight. Swallowing hard, she tried to dislodge the lump of terror that choked her.

“Damn it, Eva, scream!”

Fighting to mask her fear, she calmly nodded. She took in one measured breath, then another. If she showed any signs of fear, his predatory instinct may take over and she would be a nice snack.

As she filled her lungs once more, she wondered if he had overheard her conversation with Falcon. The knight had instructed her to scream when things took a turn for the worse and…they just had.

It took every ounce of strength Hadrian possessed not to lunge at her. Tension coiled within him. His hands fisted, clenched and released only to repeat the pattern.

Take her. Drink her. Claim,
the demon chanted as scenes of the past played like a silent film in his mind. Smoke, flames, the scent of burning flesh, the taste of blood, the glorious sensation of feeling a mortal’s life end.

He prayed for strength.

Eva took a hesitant step toward the door. His heart stopped, his lungs froze as if filled with cement as every muscle in his body clenched.

She thinks to flee.

The thought enraged him. He snarled and advanced. This delectable little half-breed would not escape him. She
belonged
to him. Her body, her blood, even her very soul was
his
.

“Hadrian,” she whispered, finally finding her voice. His eyes shimmered with deadly intent. Filling her lungs to capacity, she screamed and his lips twitched with a delightfully evil smile.

He reached out, his claws swiping at air as she was whirled.

Falcon faced his king and shoved Eva behind him, blocking her with his body. Hadrian studied the knight with wild, intelligent eyes. Holding up his hands, Falcon stepped forward.

“I have no weapon,” he said in an even tone.

Hadrian growled, his lip curling over his dagger like fangs.

“Breathe,” Falcon calmly instructed, “Just breathe. Slow and steady. Focus.”

“Her blood,” Hadrian hissed.

Falcon did not take his eyes off his king as he picked up Eva’s shirt. Tossing the balled fabric her way, he ordered her to cover her wound. She quickly wrapped her injured hand. No longer, concealing the blood. Though the intoxicating scent filled the room and teased the king’s senses.

Closing his eyes, Hadrian’s chest rose and fell as he took in deep breaths. His claws vanished as his fangs slowly receded.

Her heart clenched when he opened his eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry.” His simple words possessed an undertone of shame.

“Wait,” she called as he faded into nothing.

Sorrow, regret, fear, hunger, need, and hate. Every emotion swirled like a storm within his eyes. His soul. In that one unguarded look, she had seen his
soul
. She had seen
him
.

Falcon turned on her. “What the hell just happened?”

Eva jumped at the force of his voice. Falcon stalked to her, snatched her wrist and unwrapped her hand, revealing her wound. Blood ran freely and dripped from her fingertips. With a curse, he shredded shirt, using only the unsoiled strips to gently dab at the gash that extended from the base of her left palm, diagonally to her the start of her index finger.

“We need to clean this,” he said. Tugging on her wrist, he led her to the bathroom, which was skillfully camouflaged by the wood paneling, the door blending with the wall. Releasing her, he began to rummage through the cabinets.

Eva set her destroyed shirt on the counter. Squeezing her eyes shut, she rinsed the blood from her hand. She had not noticed the pain or the coppery stench until Hadrian vanished. Now, her stomach rolled as she imagined how her hand must look.

“Here, let me see,” Falcon insisted.

Eva blindly turned toward his voice.

He chuckled as his fingers encircled her wrist once again. “Don’t like blood?”

She shook her head. “Never have.”

He teased, “You would make for a terrible vampire.”

“I would die of starvation, if that is even possible. I can’t stand the sight, smell, or taste of blood.”
But when I saw Hadrian’s blood, I wanted to lick it.

“This is going to sting,” Falcon warned before brushing a cotton ball over her palm.

Eva winced, but kept her eyes closed.

“What is that?”

“The closest thing to an antiseptic/antibiotic I can find.”

She heard Falcon unscrew a cap set it on the marble countertop. The pungent odor of the salve stung her nose.

“Smell like something I want rubbed into my gaping wound.”

Her sarcasm was not lost on Falcon. “Believe me, this is the best. It is what we use to treat injuries caused by poison tipped weapons.”

Eva nodded, she knew there was only one type of poison in existence that could kill a vampire…but she did not know what it was or how to get it. The vampires tried their best to keep their weaknesses secret.

“It is made by the Shaw and works wonders,” he explained.

The Shaw. She had heard the name once or twice, but the pack had known very little of the powerful witch tribe.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Eva heard Falcon turn the water on. He rinsed off his hands while she decided to brave a peek at her hand. Falling against the counter, Eva gazed at her hand, speechless.

“The Shaw know their stuff,” he added, drying his hands.

Shaking free her shock, Eva said, “That is amazing.”

“Just like magic,” Falcon chuckled as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?”

Eva groaned. How was she going to explain this?

“Is this,” he motioned to her ruined shirt, “why you followed—”

“No.” Falcon raised a brow and Eva amended, “Well, not the only reason.”

“Eva, it doesn’t matter to me if the two of you decide to enjoy each other’s company,” he stated. “It would not be the first time a king had relations with his ward.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand and said, “Just explain what caused the drama.”

“I cut my hand on a letter opener,” she answered. Falcon was not interested in details and she was not interested in sharing. “That is when his vampire side came out to play.”

“The scent and site of the blood,” he said nodding his head in understanding.

“Do you think His Majesty will be okay?” she asked, nervously biting her lower lip.

Falcon rubbed the back of his neck and let out a heavy sigh, “He hasn’t been tested like this and his mind…I really don’t know. I think it would be wise if you were to stay at another of our clan’s properties, at least until things…settle. We have a manor house not far from here. I’m leaving for the main house tomorrow night. You should come with me. The nobles will be gracious hosts.”

Sadness and guilt combined choke her. This was her fault. If only she had listened to Falcon, Hadrian would not be dangling on the cliff of madness. And the knight was right. It would be for the best if she relocated. She had become obsessed with the king; he plagued her thoughts and appeared in her dreams. There was also that explosive sexual chemistry between them. Her body went liquid every time they were together and her self-preservation deserted her. Their passion was lethal. Yes, she should leave.

A sharp pain pierced her heart and spread through her chest leaving her feeling numb as something inside roared in revolt. Outrage fired her blood as resignation and depression formed a cloud in her mind.

Eva massaged her temples with trembling fingers as a tornado of conflicting emotions swept through her. Her rational side firmly agreed with Falcon while something deep within her seethed. As she thought of packing her bags in the morning surfaced, her skin crawled and her stomach twisted, leaving her feeling sick.

Eva swallowed hard, hoping to suppress the growl she could feel
 
ascending in her throat. This reaction was not normal. Well, not normal for her. The inner turmoil she was currently feeling could be compared to what a purebred female might experience when contemplating leaving her mate.

Don’t be ridiculous,
she chided.
I’m no purebred and even if I were, the likelihood of a vampire being my intended mate is slim to none.

Nevertheless, this was confusing and only strengthened her rational side’s argument. She would pack and she would leave with Falcon. She was no good for Hadrian in his current state and to stay would be selfish.

                            *                            *                            *                            *

A brutal, unholy roar ripped through the night, the force vibrating the ancient mausoleum, dust and rubble rained down upon Hadrian. He howled until his lungs felt as if they would burst. Gripping his head with shaking hands, he fell to his knees between the stone tombs.

Her blood.

He shuddered.

Sweetly exotic, his mouth had watered while the demon begged for a taste. His fangs ached and his throat burned. Hunger twisted his gut as bloodlust shoved him over the edge into the black, bottomless pit of madness.

Deranged.

He had been seconds from attacking Eva, seconds from sinking his fangs deep into the tender flesh of her elegant neck and feasting on her intoxicating essence.

Hunt her,
the vampire chanted.

Lashing out, he turned his murderous desire towards the floor. His knuckles cracked, bled, healed, cracked, bled, and healed again and again as he wildly punched the stone, which quickly turned to powder beneath his blows.

Scrubbing his face with dust-covered hands, he leaned back on his heels. “Control,” he rasped as he sucked in rapid breaths, drowning Eva’s scent with the decaying odor of the crypt. Frantically trying to deaden his senses.

The evil, sickening, memories began to retreat to the fringes of his mind as the tension of his body slowly eased, leaving him drained. Hadrian collapsed and landed with a resounded thud. He sprawled out, allowing the bone chilling cold of the floor to seep into his skin.

He should have teleported the instant she followed him into his room. All rational thought vanished when it came to the half-breed. His sense of honor, decency, and responsibility became non-existent when they were together.

If he had thought last night had gone too far, tonight had been worse. Why could he not control himself? Whenever they were alone he behaved like an untried lad. His body yearned to feel her soft and pliant beneath him and he found it impossible to keep his hands off her. And he wanted—no, needed her. Only her. Only Eva.

Hadrian cursed. Eva had been brought here to be his ward, not his mistress. She deserved better. She deserved not to be attacked or used and he knew he could offer her nothing more in his damaged state. He had meant what he told her by the lake, these encounters would have to end and yet, he had almost taken her virginity and her life twice since then.

Fuck, he was a twisted piece of work.

And her blood
, he thought with a low growl.
It would taste like ambrosia, the food of the gods.

Closing his eyes, Hadrian imagined biting into her plump lower lip. He would sweep his tongue over the ruby droplets before claiming her mouth with a soul satisfying kiss.

A vicious snarl rumbled his throat as his fists slammed against the floor, cracking the stone.

He could not allow himself to think of such things, especially when his control was razor thin. He could very well snap…teleport to Eva’s room and—

Hadrian refused to finish that thought.

Instead he shifted his thinking to what he had discovered. All drama aside, he had finally lifted the veil of mystery that surrounded Eva. Her blood had revealed everything.

Half witch, half jaguar shifter, a perfectly stunning and lethal combination.

As he lay, gazing at the high, arched ceiling, realization hit him like a hollow to the chest.

On the next full moon, Eva might transition. She had raw, untainted power in her veins; magic so strong it had hit him like a physical force when she had cut her hand. It had not been the scent or sight of her tempting blood, but the strength of her magic that had struck him, as he had been about to thrust—

Why had he not noticed the signs?

You were distracted by her charms.

From the moment she had entered the castle, Eva had been exhibiting the classic symptoms of a pre-transitioned shifter. Restlessness, she could hardly remain still. As she watched a film, she constantly shifted in her seat. While reading, Eva would twirl her hair and bounce her leg. Insomnia, Eva wandered the keep and grounds for hours, spending many sleepless nights exploring. Then there was her appetite. Over the last few days Eva had begun to double her caloric intake. Her body needed the energy for her upcoming transformation. And her sex drive…