Draven ground his jaw left then right. At the soft touch at his elbow, he hesitantly turned around. Lucinda smiled a close-lipped smile. When she spoke, he nearly jerked back from her.
“Maagari letu.”
It took Draven a minute to process what she’d said and in what language she’d just spoken. She spoke the demonic tongue. She was a vampire. How, when did she learn such an old language? It wasn’t like there were many demons running around on earth anymore.
It is alright, she’d said.
Draven turned back to the awaiting shapeshifters feeling as though he was in another dimension. He nodded to them that the place was acceptable and didn’t wait to let Lucinda enter first as he should have.
Hell, he could barely stand. He went to a checkered loveseat and sat in it. He heard her soft, husky voice then the sound of the door closing. A spot deep within his eyes throbbed in time to the tempo at his temples. He covered his face in his hands. How was he supposed to get through this?
He could barely sleep most nights, and ever since he took her blood, there had been no sleeping at all. A half an hour here and there and then his mind wandered back to that night. He remembered the feel of her skin against his lips, the taste of her, could still hear the soft moan she made. She’d bewitched him. She was dangerous.
A startling touch on his shoulder sent him to his feet. His head whacked hard against her chin.
“Dammit, I’m sorry.” In a second, he had her sitting on the toilet in the bathroom.
“It’s fine, warrior. It was my fault.” She sounded muffled like she had something shoved in her mouth. Draven flicked on the light and squatted down in front of her to see better. His scowl deepened at what he saw. He hadn’t just knocked her in the face with his hard head, but one of her fangs had bitten into her bottom lip and bled.
His lips parted at the red line that dribbled down to her chin.
“Pardon me,” she said and reached for some toilet paper. She tucked that plump lip into her mouth and Draven nearly groaned as it came back out wet and clean.
“Here let me.”
He didn’t know what compelled him to say it. Some devil squatting on his shoulder he was sure. Her eyes widened in surprise but she handed the paper over and gently he wiped the blood from her chin.
When he finished he quickly tossed the reddened paper away and stood. It was becoming difficult to breathe around her so he turned and spun out of the room. He heard a shuffling behind him.
“Warrior, may I ask you something?”
Slowly he turned to her. He even managed a slight smile. “Yes, of course.”
She wrung her hands together. “Do you regret making me your frimar?” Shock hit him first, then several other emotions he wasn’t able to mask.
Her smile was sad. “I see. Perhaps it would be best if you broke your obligation to me.”
Draven’s chest tightened painfully. Release her as his frimar? The thought should have filled him with joy, but instead a bitter taste coated his tongue.
“No, Lucinda. I am happy that you’re my frimar.” It was only a partial truth because he did want her. Not in the way she may think. And not in any way he could ever act upon. She was beauty and refinement and reminded him of things he longed to forget. He fingered the scar at his side, so near to his heart. He could never forget the past with that kind of reminder.
She smiled gently. “If there is anything I can do to please you, you have but to ask, warrior Draven.”
He stifled a groan. She would, too. If he asked her right now to pull down that dress and feed him her breasts, she would. She might even like it.
“Thank you, Lucinda,” he said hoarsely. “Please call me Draven.” She bowed her head in acknowledgement.
“Take the bed. I’ll make a pallet on the floor.” Again, a frown tugged at her sweet lips.
“We may share the bed, warrior, I mean, Draven.” A hint of a blush colored her cheeks, brightening her green eyes.
Draven glanced at the bed if only to break her stare. That didn’t help either though as he pictured her riding him, breasts swaying before his eager mouth. A sweat broke out over his brow. Dammit.
“No. Thank you,” he added as an afterthought. “You take it.” Even feeling like he couldn’t possibly sleep a wink, he grabbed a pillow and spare cover from the bed and tossed it on the ground. He laid on top of it and closed his eyes. If he thought that would help, he was wrong.
Instead his ears got to listen to her soft steps as she moved around the room. He heard the sound of ties being unlaced and he nearly groaned. Rolling onto his stomach to hide the wood he was sporting, Draven couldn’t stop the mental picture that floated into his mind.
He could see her in his mind as sure as if he was watching her and not listening. Untying the cords at the back of her dress took forever, almost as if she was purposely going slow to torture him.
He heard the soft slide of cloth as she pulled her arms from the velvet sleeves. Smooth beautiful skin, that’s what would be there. He heard the dress pool to the floor then her light steps walking to the bed.
Painful thoughts floated through his mind. Was she naked underneath that gown? Was she lying right now in that bed with nothing but skin separating them? He tried to picture her in conventional underwear—the thought was laughable. This woman probably wore a white shift underneath with sexy little ties that he could unravel with his teeth.
Damn, his cock was about to dig a hole in the floor beneath him. He had to cool his thoughts or the sweats would never go away. The Bellum sisters, think about them. He could almost laugh.
After his investigation in Germany, he found serious evidence of another jaheera demon. Where it was now, he had no clue, but Henry was back at the castle sifting through human’s news footage to see if anything had been noticed. So far, no. Was that a good sign? His instincts told him no. That this demon was in the rift, building an army, collecting power, eating babies or whatever it does.
“Warrior?” said a soft, hesitant voice. Draven squeezed his eyes shut.
“Call me Draven.” He could practically feel her blush from the floor.
“Of course, my apologies. Do you wish to...feed tonight, Draven?”
She’d turned off the light as she gotten into bed. With the dark room, her sultry voice, and his hard cock, hearing the words feed and his name—damn the way she said it—sent his cock near to bursting. With a soft hiss, he reached down and gripped his cock through his pants. He squeezed tightly until some of the pain registered over everything else and deflated his erection, only a little.
“No, Lucinda. Go to sleep.” He thought he heard her sigh, but over his own hiss, he couldn’t be sure.
“Goodnight, Draven.”
Draven shut his eyes and tried to sleep and not think about the woman in the bed.
“Lyonis wants us to keep an eye on the vampire demon.”
Jackie didn’t turn around to face him. “I know.”
Thane shook his head and wished he could shake some sense into her. “Wait up, dammit. We need to talk.”
“I don’t think so,” she sang, stepping into the mat room they used for training and sparring.
The mat room was bigger than most training rooms. Nearly the size of a football field and under the pack’s town, the room was perfect for sparring while transforming. Every now and then they even put on a show for the kids with animal verse animal fights between members of the pack.
“Listen, whatever’s up your craw needs to be canned. We have work to do around here and we can’t do that if you’re ignoring me at every turn.” Something he said struck a chord because she stopped hard and spun around. The look in her eyes was hot with anger. His dick lengthened at it and he had to focus to tamper it down.