Bound by the Vampire Queen

Most of the time, she could take care of herself physical y. It was on the emotional terrain she'd always had to defend her own ramparts, guard against ambushes. She'd never been able to relax certain parts of herself enough to fully love. He'd given her that, her brave, reckless Irish knight.

She squeezed down on him then, holding him banded in her arms as she lifted her hips, took him d e e p e r. Give me pleasure, Jacob. Give me everything. His back was already healing, the power of a third-marking.

He licked the wound on her neck, suckled her there, then moved up to her lips, letting her taste her blood on his mouth. Slipping a hand under her nape, he held her to deepen the kiss, then braced his hand next to them to obey her, beginning to thrust, slow, easy, then harder, reinforcing the fact they were alive, bonded, unable to be separated. She gasped into his mouth, her arousal building so quickly it startled her. Jacob had once made the joke that a half-dead vampire could stil fuck a person to death before they gave out, and she remembered it now, gloriously. Vampire or no, Jacob could make her body sing like no other lover she'd had.

Careful, my lady. You know how full of myself I can get.

Duly noted, Sir Vagabond. She put her smile against his temple, a smile that became a straining, parted-mouth cry as he pushed her up and over the wal of her climax, fal ing with her only when she gave him leave to do so, something he'd always done, even as vampire.

He was her devoted knight, serving her to the last reserves of his soul.

19

THEY emerged from that darkness into a Fae morning. Since Jacob had explained the sun issue to her, it didn't make her recoil. Instead, she stopped, drew in the scent of the morning air and lifted her face to the warmth, closing her eyes. “I'l miss this as well.”

“Maybe if this liaison thing works out, you'l be able to visit again.”

“Rhoswen will probably change the environment so I'l be toasted the next time I step into this world.”

“True. Queens can be a bit vindictive that way.” She sent a narrow glance his way. He was resting on his heels at a stream edge, trailing his fingers in the water, mesmerizing a smal group of fish with large purple eyes and iridescent pink tails. Now, though, he straightened, came to her side. “Looks like we have a visitor.”

Keldwyn reined up, two horses fol owing obediently in his wake, mounts from Rhoswen's stable. “Wel met, Lady Lyssa,” he said. “It appears you succeeded.”

His expression remained bland, despite her appearance. She was filthy and bloody, her snarled hair was coated with a fine layer of sand from the desert world. She wore the cloak Jacob had brought with him, covering the tattered and bloodstained tunic and leggings.

“That remains to be seen. I've yet to see Rhoswen.

Is she out of the mourning period?”

“Yes, as of a few hours ago. You just made the three-day window.” At Jacob's puzzled look, calculating, Keldwyn shook his head. “It's impossible to predict the rate of Fae time between magical portals.”

“I expect she would have stretched her deadline if she thought she'd stil get what she wanted.” But Lyssa's dry tone turned to something entirely different then. His lady stil had the ability to cool the temperature around her, a warning of her temper a man would be a fool not to heed. And Keldwyn was not a fool. Lyssa stepped closer, leveling a hard gaze on him.

“My father's crime was love. Loving a vampire, getting her with child. How could anyone but a pack of . . . monsters feel that desert was a just punishment?”

“In your own world, what punishments have been handed out to vampires or servants who have loved one another unwisely?” Keldwyn shifted his gaze to Jacob, then back to her. “It is often not a fair world, Lady Lyssa. But love persists, in all its foolishness, doesn't it?” Keldwyn dismounted then, offered her a hand. “Can I help you on your mount, escort you to the queen?”

Lyssa ignored the hand, though she did close the three steps between them. “His death destroyed something in you, didn't it?”

For a long moment, Keldwyn said nothing. Jacob felt the magic the Fae Lord carried within him shift the air around them uneasily, as if she'd stepped on the trigger for a mine. A tiny muscle flickered at the corner of one dark eye. When Keldwyn spoke, his tone was so even it was like a thread pul ed perilously taut.

“Yes.”

The power of that one word, the pain behind it, was enough to have Lyssa's eyes softening. She laid a hand on his face, a brief touch. He stayed entirely stil , a dangerous animal who didn't trust himself, then she nodded, stepped back. “Have you seen Catriona?”

His jaw tightened. “That is hardly your concern.”

“No. But it is yours. Since she's behind you, you may want to address it.”

It was a rare moment to see Keldwyn startled. He twisted around. The dryad stood at the edge of the clearing. Her short dress of gauzy layers looked like pale blue and green leaves. Tiny shimmers of light sparkled over it, reflecting the same in her wings, soft flickers. Her brown hair was down, waving around her face, her thin face and large eyes young, vulnerable. She looked like a deer that might bolt, torn between trepidation and need.

Leaving Keldwyn standing there, Lyssa moved toward their two horses. Jacob fol owed to lift her onto the white mare's back. As she adjusted her seat to straddle the mount, freeing her cloak, Jacob swung onto the blood bay next to her. Keldwyn and Catriona had not moved, regarding one another silently.

“We'l see you at the castle, Lord Keldwyn,” Lyssa said. As they moved out of the clearing, his horse snorted, but faithful y held his position near his master. Catriona's gaze flickered briefly to them.

The dryad gave Jacob a nod, Lyssa a glance, and then she was back to holding that unspoken, emotional communication with the Fae Lord.

“It's like the Dr. Seuss book,” Jacob said, his voice pitched low.

“The one where the two characters refuse to step around each other, and stand there for decades while civilizations rise and fal around them?” At his surprised look, Lyssa shrugged. “I like Dr. Seuss.” When she paused at the forest's edge, Jacob reined in and they both looked back. One more heartbeat of stil ness, and then Catriona was moving, running across the clearing on dainty feet, her wings lifting her in graceful, urgent bounds of motion. Keldwyn stood motionless until the last moment, when abruptly he stepped forward as if he'd broken out of ice. He barely got his arms open before she hit his chest. He was braced for her, though, his arms wrapping hard around her. Even at this distance, they could tel the male was trembling from head to toe, so hard he went to one knee, holding her folded against him like a ragdol .

Pressing his jaw down on the top of her head, he clutched her like a father welcoming home a long lost daughter, and perhaps he was.

Jacob shifted his glance to Lyssa, saw her eyes glistening. Crying was something his lady had often told him she never did. Now she tossed her head to cover it, in that haughty way he knew well , that he'd missed. Something vital had come back to her, and by God, he loved seeing it, no matter what they were about to face—or the fact they really needed to get more blood in her before she fel over. Nudging his horse up against hers as they rode, he brushed her knee in companionable silence when they moved away from the family reunion and headed for Rhoswen's castle.

Cayden was on his bench at the gatehouse. Jacob raised a brow at the bruise on his face, a split lip. As the captain rose to take hold of the bridle of Lyssa's mount, he moved stiffly. Jacob's gaze narrowed. He knew that way of walking. “She had you flogged?”

“The queen metes out justice as she sees fit. It was fair. I was told to stop you. I didn't.” Jacob bit down on a retort at Lyssa's warning glance. Fol owing his lady and Cayden through the courtyard, he noticed the staff gave them some curious glances. With their heightened senses, they probably detected their differences, even if not the clear nature of them.

When they reached the main hal , there were no retainers and no throne. No ice sculptures, either.

Just fountains this time, fil ing the wide space with the sound of rushing water. Rhoswen sat on the edge of the largest fountain, one with a life-sized statue of a Fae lord on a horse in the center, the water pouring out from the dais beneath the horse's feet. Floating in the fountain were thick rose blooms, petals jeweled with drops from the fountain. Probably bespel ed never to wilt, their life essence captured inside.

His lady stopped, stared at the statue. Rhoswen didn't look up, though she obviously knew they were there. Lyssa glanced at him, nodded, her pale face quiet, serene.

Wait here at the door, Jacob.

Her servant obeyed reluctantly, but when he took up position at the entranceway, Lyssa noted Cayden stayed with him, as if his queen had commanded the same. Interesting. A pace or two away from Rhoswen, she stopped, studied the statue. The noble features, broad shoulders. The planes of his face that reminded her of her own. Her chest tightened, her heart doing a double beat. “Is this what he looked like?”

“Yes.” Rhoswen passed her fingers through the water, caressing the roses. She didn't lift her gaze.

Her hair was tied loosely on her shoulders. “At Beltane, in honor of spring and creation, there is a competition of sorts. Each contestant brings forth something they have created to honor the new season, and to please the Unseelie queen and Seelie king. The king and queen choose the best of the new creations, and that creation is displayed appropriately until the fol owing year. The year after Lord Reghan was sentenced, Lord Keldwyn commissioned an artisan to do this. He offered it as his entry. A Seelie or Unseelie of his rank wasn't expected to participate in a common competition in the first place. It's typical y for the solitary Fae. So it was obviously an act of defiance.”

“I take it he was noticed.”

“He was lucky he was not kil ed. It was what my mother wanted. Instead, it was the first time he was banished.” Rhoswen stared at nothing, nothing but the past. “For a decade, that time. Of course, by repeatedly banishing him, they ensured that he eventual y saw the mountains in your world as more his home than the Fae world.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">