Temptation at Twilight: Lords of Pleasure (32 page)

“It is done,” Valafar announced. Exhaustion had carved grooves around his sensual mouth, and he studied Soren with a peculiar hesitation that alarmed Harley. She tugged at his coat sleeve.

“What’s wrong? Why isn’t he waking up?”

“I won’t lie to you. He resisted me, Harley. Bringing him back proved more difficult than wrestling a dragon.”

“But why?”
Stunned
didn’t begin to describe how she felt. This could
not
be happening.

“He believes he’s unworthy of your love. His heart is broken and he doesn’t want to live.”

Not now, after all they’d been through. She shook him. “Soren, honey, that’s not true! Listen to me, please. Don’t give up on me! Valafar, what can I do?”

His face softened in sympathy. “Love him—that’s all. You’re the only one who can reach him now. I can do nothing more.”

“Will he remember everything that’s happened?”

“I
could
take the horrible memories and wipe them from his mind and yours, but I won’t. A man must learn from his mistakes. If Soren doesn’t face his and accept your forgiveness, he will never heal. If I intervened, he wouldn’t remember all that has transpired, but his deep sense of failure would eat at him like a cancer until the end of time. Worse, he’d never know why. Do you understand?”

“Yes. That makes perfect sense, but it won’t be easy.”

“Perhaps impossible. He could still die without ever waking, Harley. All I did was to open the door. He must walk through it. Soren must choose.”

“Thank you so much.”

Soren’s brothers took his hands, and Aldric spoke to him, the depth of his love catching his voice. “Don’t be stupid, bro. Come back to her. She’s one hell of a woman, and for some reason, she fell for an idiot. Don’t give up now. Remember our parents’ love. Seize what they had.” He squeezed Soren’s hand, then let go, looking at Val. “Luc and I will help clean up here, then go back to the mansion on our own. Please send them home.”

Harley swallowed back more tears. “I’m ready.”

Reluctantly, she let Valafar ease Soren to the floor. She lay next to the man she loved, clutching his hand, willing him to hang on.

Valafar pushed to his feet and stood over them. He held an arm out, palm up. “Sleep.”

Her last impression was of a tall, gallant demigod, black hair tumbling into his eyes and to his shoulders, black wings glorious behind him. Blowing into his palm.

And blue stardust that carried her into sweet dreams of a tall, beautiful vampire with eyes like amber gold.

 

 

Valafar stood wearily in the middle of the gore. Leila and her demons, dead. He’d been fair and just and helped Aldric to rid the Coalition of a pestilence in the bargain. Maybe that would cut him some slack with the Terrible Twelve. His lips twisted.
Yeah, right.

With a snap of his fingers, the carnage vanished as though it had never been.

“Hey, I said we’d help with that,” Aldric said with a frown.

“Got it covered.”

Gods, in his entire existence, he’d never been so empty. This cut much deeper than exhaustion. No, this was something more, and he took comfort in the truth. The endless days, winding down like a worn, forgotten timepiece. Numbered and finite.

At long last.

Aware of his brother and of Luc, Aldric, and Zen watching him anxiously, Valafar tried to straighten to his full height. Failed.

“Leila may be dead, but I’ll find your son, Arron. Before I draw my last breath, I’ll bring him home to you. I swear it.” Now, if only he could endure against the impending war long enough to keep his promise.

And descend it would, the entire universe out to destroy him and bring his enemies down around his ears. The grim expressions on the faces of his companions told him they knew it, too.

“Your last breath? What kind of crazy talk is that?” Arron frowned.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Val said, ignoring him. Fatigue weighed his limbs, and he hated his weakness.

He took one shaky step, two, before his knees buckled. His friends rushed to his side as darkness swirled, beckoning with the promise of oblivion.

Yes, the vultures would arrive soon to feast on his flesh, pick him clean until nothing remained to mark his passage from this brutal world. No sons to carry on his legacy, no mate to weep for him.

Let them come.

H
arley woke by degrees.

Tangled sheets. Rain thrumming against a window.

Cracking one eye open, she observed her surroundings. A gorgeous room.
What on earth?
Groggy, she sat up and searched for a clue. It didn’t take long to find.

Next to her, Soren lay sleeping, looking like a dark angel. Valafar had sent them home as promised, and they were in his bedroom. Now it was up to Soren to wake. Determined, she reached out and shook a bare shoulder.

“Soren,” she called. She stroked his hair, trying to think of a way to reach him. “Oh, honey. Don’t you know how much I love you? I don’t blame you for what happened with Leila. It’s in the past.”

He didn’t stir. But she wasn’t quitting.

“Soren, please wake up! I’m not giving up until you come back to me. Do you hear? Forgive yourself; let it go.” She cupped his face in both hands and did the only thing that came to mind. Leaning forward, she kissed him, touched his soft lips with hers. Gentle, urging. Willing him to hear what words could never say. To let her love flow into him and to understand that it would last forever. To allow that love to heal him.

To love her forever.

Spoken with a simple kiss.

A kiss . . . and a miracle. His mouth responded, his body arching into hers, seeking refuge. Warmth. His arms encircled her, strong hands splayed on her back. Shudders began to rack him, jerking his shoulders.

He was awake, crying.

Breaking the kiss, she pulled back and looked into his handsome face, so dear to her. So desolate. A man who’d been through hell and truly believed he’d lost everything.

“Let me go,” he whispered hoarsely. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Forget it! Ain’t gonna happen, vampire.”

Her caustic response seemed to penetrate his sorrow a little, and he opened his eyes. He paused, searching her face as if trying to see into her heart, a flicker of hope sparking. But still painfully hesitant, unsure.

Terrible guilt laced his throaty rasp. “I betrayed you and I almost killed you. What if the beast in me comes back someday, like some sort of infection? I can’t take that risk.”

“I promise you, it won’t. You were freed when you sacrificed yourself for the good of everyone you love. Valafar said so before he gave you this second chance. Besides, what difference would it make if you did have some weird lingering effect from all of this? The vampire I fell in love with is no coward. Is that what you are?”

“No! I want you safe and happy. But you don’t deserve—”

“Stuff that, Soren Fontaine!” she shouted. Wild to reach him, she grabbed a handful of his hair in both fists and yanked him up with all her strength. Sitting nose to nose in the big bed, she launched into a tirade.

“I sat by and let Valafar break some cosmic law in order to bring you back to me, and now he’s in deep shit with twelve pissed-off gods and some enemies who can’t wait to barbecue him! What about
you?
Do you have the balls to fight for us? Are you the never-say-die vampire I thought I knew, or a wuss? Before you answer, think about whether you can stomach the idea of me mating someone else, like Val. Joining with him, sharing his bed, having his fifteen children—”

“Not a fucking chance,” he growled.

He kissed her hard and deep. They melted into each other, one heartbeat, one soul. She rejoiced in his mouth moving on hers, his tongue, hands, stroking. Her breasts crushed into his broad chest. This man, claiming her as his. Chasing away the shadows.

Alive and
hers
.

“I love you so damned much,” he breathed. “Thank you for saving me.”

She hugged him close, smiling into his wet hair. “I love you, too. Believe me, vamp, the pleasure is all mine.”

“But what about the Council? My brothers and I used our swords, even though it was forbidden.”

A voice interrupted from the doorway. “Under the circumstances, and with Valafar returning to the helm, they decided to let it slide,” Aldric said.

Soren smiled at his older brother. “Thank you, bro. For everything.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t do much except arrive with backup at the right time. I’m just glad I healed from the ambush in time to get to you.”

“What about Luc? What was this about being rescued by a Valkyrie?”

Luc appeared in the doorway next to his older brother. “Yeah, some badass chick saved my bacon after I got attacked by that werewolf Leila sent after me. She made me well and brought me back here.”

“Where you promptly got captured by Leila’s goons,” Aldric said dryly. “Good going.”

“Bite me, asshole.”

Soren laughed, and it felt good to Harley to be a part of his family again, no terrible beast choking him with darkness. Damned good. “By the way,” she said, “it will be nice to finally get to know you both under pleasant circumstances.”

“You, too,” Luc replied, smiling.

“Same here.” Aldric nodded. “Make our brother happy—that’s all we ask. Just like we know he will you.”

“No worries there.” She snuggled into her mate’s side. “I plan to make him very happy every single day.”

Luc elbowed his oldest brother. “Come on. Let’s leave these lovebirds alone.”

The pair left, closing the door behind them.

“I love you, Harley,” Soren breathed into her hair. “Join with me in an official mating ceremony here at the resort. We’ll invite all our friends and have a naughty celebration.”

“Ohh, I think that’s a big yes.” She giggled, imagining the party.

He laid his forehead on hers. “You mean it? You’ll be my mate, even though I’ve been more trouble than any vampire is worth?”

She gave a dramatic sigh, as if reconsidering. “Well, now that you mention it—vampires, demons, and
my
vamp being a distant cousin to a demigod? I don’t know . . .”

“Never mind. I’ll take that as a yes!”

She threw her arms around his neck. “Damned straight.”

 

 

Soren paused in his work inside the pavilion and swiped a gloved hand over his brow, wiping away the sweat. Good thing vampires really didn’t burst into flame. The end of summer in the South, and the sweltering heat at midmorning, was already enough to suffocate him after no more than five minutes outside. Not that he minded.

He paused to check out his handiwork in the covered area where their joining ceremony would take place. Flowers, vines, and all sorts of shit a female would love graced the rows and the pretty archway where they’d stand and exchange the words. “Not too bad, huh?” he asked himself.

Ten more pots of flowers to arrange. He threw himself into the task with relish, taking care of them one by one until his back ached, every muscle complaining. Sweet Virgin, it felt wonderful.

This done, he walked out into the sunshine. Lifted his face, enjoying the blaze on his skin. The marvelous sensation wasn’t something he’d ever take for granted again. He strode to the corral where they kept the horses, bracing his arms on the fence, and just watched their mares for a very long while. There were two new colts, hugged against their mothers as if attached by Velcro. His heart couldn’t swell any bigger or it would burst.

Now, if only they could have a baby. But he and Helena had never been successful.

Slender arms looped around his neck. “Enjoying yourself?”

“I am now.” Harley pressed against him, laying her cheek on his back. “I’m all sweaty, baby.”

“Mmm. Don’t care.” She snuggled closer.

“Good.” He turned and took her in his arms, just holding her, counting his blessings. Next weekend, he and Harley would be quietly joined here. Okay, not so quietly, with his brothers and all their friends there to take part in what would no doubt end up being a naughty good time. Valafar, Arron, and Zen would come for sure.

“Hey, I was thinking about the baby roses. Why don’t we put them over by the—”

“Shh. I don’t want to talk. Not about flowers.” He ground his hips to emphasize his point. Her hand came between them to cup the hard bulge in his jeans. She tilted her face to his, glossy auburn hair dusting the shoulders of her pink T-shirt.

“I see.” She giggled, tracing the white block letters on his black T-shirt. He looked down at his chest, his grin spreading.

His shirt read, I’M SO GOOD IN BED, I SCREAM MY OWN NAME.

“Good to know some things never change, vampire,” she drawled, waggling her brows. “Are you sure you can prove such a manly claim? I’m betting you’re all tired out from all this manual labor you’ve done since we’ve been home.”