The Emerald Lily Page 3

  Unaccustomed to feeling out of control, he needed action to dislodge this edge of uneasiness. They’d rested long enough. Time to move on to the next stopping point, where they could all feed and rest up for the last stretch of the journey to Silvane Forest.

  He stepped through the cave, his gut clenching at the sweet silhouette of the princess lying on her side, the orange embers glowing on her flawless skin. Tearing his gaze away, he sought his men. Finding Dmitri first, sleeping in a sitting position, something they’d done time and time again, he shook his shoulder.

  “Brother, it’s time to go.”

  Dmitri’s eyes snapped open, alert as ever. His brother’s vampire senses were remarkably acute. The others stirred at the sound of movement. He returned to Vilhelmina, still sleeping, a golden-haired beauty, an innocent temptation he needed to keep at a distance. And yet, here he was, lifting her in his arms to carry her to the next stop.

  “You got her, Captain?” asked Gregoravich, the physically strongest of the five of them.

  Tamping down the desire to growl his response, he cleared his throat and replied softly. “Yes. Let’s move.”

  She stirred in his arms as they exited the entrance. “What…?”

  A pall of gray light rose in the east. The smell of a storm pressing down from above.

  “We’d best move quickly,” said Aleksei, nose to the wind.

  “Agreed. Lead on, Aleksei.” Mikhail finally met the gaze of the wide-eyed princess. “I know you have some strength back, but it’s best if I carry you to be sure. Plus, you don’t know the way.”

  When he thought she would protest, she didn’t. Rather, she linked her arms around his neck and tucked her head in the crook of his shoulder. He knew it was for practical reasons, to hold on and to keep from injuring her neck against the force of the wind, yet a raw emotion swelled in his chest, an unfamiliar, indefinable emotion that gripped him hard. He might have called it possessiveness, but that would be foolish.

  He took off after the others, moving through the gray haze, letting his instincts guide his swift feet, and chastising himself for wanting something, someone, he couldn’t have.

  Foolish, indeed. The blood oath he’d made as Captain of the Bloodguard doused his desires with icy finality. He recited the words in his head to stave off the lure of the woman he held in his arms. The promise to sacrifice marriage and family for the sake of the Guard and his brothers at arms.

  He would not, could not allow himself to form an attachment beyond duty and service.

  And yet, the blood kiss still haunted him, his lips against hers, his tongue stroking inside. Even worse, the feeding. Fucking hell. When she sank her slender fangs into his flesh, he’d nearly lost his mind with the primal need to take her. This fair-skinned, golden-haired beauty who appeared to be molded and created and divined by the stars for him.

  He sped faster, willing his inane thoughts away and focusing on the task at hand. To get the princess to the safety of the Silvane Forest and the Black Lily.

  They descended out of the Novak Mountains and crossed the vast plains to the northeast, skirting around villages. After a few hours, they slowed and dipped into an open valley with wide fields and sparse woodlands. The trees were naked now in the dead of winter. The heavy clouds pressing down promised sleet or snow sometime today. Having moved out of the deep south, the temperatures had dropped markedly.

  Aleksei led them to a paved road lined with tall oaks, their thick branches stretching out like arms welcoming him home. None of them had been home since before Mikhail had sought out their role as guardian to Friedrich Volya, the Duke of Winter Hill. That plan had worked out just as Mikhail had hoped, forming an alliance with the one royal, other than Prince Marius, who was covertly working with the Black Lily against Queen Morgrid and her son King Dominik.

  They slowed to a walk as the paved road widened at a tall wrought-iron gate.

  “You may put me down now,” said the princess, jarring Mikhail from his thoughts.

  He’d forgotten he was holding her.

  “Of course.”

  He set her on her slippered feet. He’d have to find her warmer attire before they ventured to the Silvane Forest. The winter had curled a colder hand around Varis than usual, as if the queen herself controlled the weather with her wicked intentions and black magic. The heavy snows made it more difficult to assemble their armies and train. Deep cold made no difference to healthy vampires. But for humans, which the vast majority of their army was made up of, it did.

  “This is your home, Aleksei?”

  They walked closer to the three-story manor house.

  “Yes, Your Highness. Welcome to Wentworth Hall.”

  The gargantuan door flew open. A lovely fair-haired lady, a vampire with Aleksei’s distinct features, launched down the portico steps and into his arms. Aleksei laughed boisterously and spun her around, her skirts fanning wide. Mikhail couldn’t help but smile.

  “Easy, Irena.” He set her on her feet. “You’ll strangle me.”

  “Damn you, Alek.” She punched his shoulder with the heel of her hand playfully. “Six months? That’s entirely too long.”

  “What? Mother isn’t good enough company?”

  “Mother is lovely. But you know she has no sense of humor. And the winter has kept everyone away from visiting. I’m bored senseless.”

  He chuckled again. “Come then. Meet my friends.”

  “Friends?” She arched a brow. “You mean your fellow assassins, don’t you?”

  He grinned affectionately down at her but didn’t answer. Apparently, Aleksei’s sister knew more about the Bloodguard than most.

  She tucked her arm in the crook of his when he offered it, then he led her to where the rest of the party stood off to the side.

  “May I present my sister, Lady Irena Lukov.”

  His sister curtsied in greeting.

  “Irena, this is Gregoravich, Dmitri, Gavril, and my captain, Mikhail.”

  Her eyes widened when they landed on him, a common reaction from women he newly met. He was aware that his unusually sharp features and his peculiar-colored eyes drew attention.

  “And this is Her Highness, Vilhelmina Dragomir, Princess of Arkadia.”

  Irena’s cool eyes widened even further. She dropped to a deep curtsy, almost to the ground. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I didn’t know—I wouldn’t have behaved in such a—” She shot a scathing look up at Aleksei, who merely grinned.

  Vilhelmina stepped forward and took her hands. “Please stand. There’s no need to worry yourself. I imagine you didn’t have warning we were coming.”

  “No, Your Highness.” She stood, shooting another death glare at her brother. “We had no warning at all.”

  “Then I beg your forgiveness.”

  Aleksei interrupted. “Irena, perhaps we can get the princess inside. She’s been through an ordeal.”

  Irena finally took in Mina’s nightgown and velvet robe. “Yes. Please come inside. Mother will be anxious to meet you all.”

  Aleksei led the way, passing through the door, where a butler stood, stiff and unaffected by the surprise visitors.

  “Hello, Marshall.”

  “Lord Lukov. It is a pleasure to see you again.” Though the butler’s stern features didn’t show pleasure of any kind.

  “And you.”

  “Mother will be in her drawing room,” said Irena, hurrying ahead with long, swift strides.

  “A bit spirited, your sister,” said Dmitri.

  Aleksei glanced over, his smile fading at once. “Dmitri, stop looking at my sister that way.”

  “Or what?” he asked, still watching Irena farther ahead.

  “Or I’ll punch your teeth in.”

  “She’s a lovely girl.”

  “Yes,” snapped Aleksei. “Girl, not a woman.”

  “Hmph.” Gregoravich scratched his grizzled beard. “She must be twenty at least.”

  Aleksei’s fury turned to their hulking comrade. “Twenty-one.
And that’s hardly more than a girl in vampire years.”

  Vilhelmina dipped her head low, hiding her smile.

  Aleksei grumbled as they entered a bright, high-ceilinged parlor draped in pastels of blue, white, and gray. Irena had already summoned her mother to her feet. She was a mature vampire, perhaps three hundred years old, her features denoting a lovely woman who was wise in years by the set of her all-knowing eyes—crystal blue—the same that Aleksei and Irena bore, which settled on her son first.

  She opened her arms. “My son.”

  He embraced her warmly. “Mother.”

  “I’ve missed you so.” She pulled back to gaze at his face, a look of love and adoration shining bright. She cupped his cheek as she might have done when he was a boy. Aleksei didn’t shy away but let her gaze her fill. “Now.” She turned toward the rest. “Who have you brought with you?”

  “This is my mother, Lady Galena Lukov.”

  She swept her gaze across them then gasped when she landed on Vilhelmina. “Oh, dear child.” Stepping forward, she curtsied deep before the princess. “I had word that you were—” She stopped the rest of her sentence and glanced back at her son. “Did you all take her from Briar Rose?”

  “It’s best you know as little as possible, Mother. If I could’ve kept you from meeting her at all, I would have. But we had to stop here to rest and to feed before we move on.”

  She stared at the princess with a nostalgic smile. Then it hit him. A flash of memory that was not his own, but the woman’s before him. She stood in a grand hall filled with royals and nobles around the throne of a king Mikhail didn’t recognize. A baby in a bassinet—sweet and lovely. The black-robed Queen Morgrid storming from the hall, people parting for her as if from a plague. A woman draped in white leaned over the bassinet, cooing kind words to the infant. Fathomless deep blue eyes stared up from the round, innocent babe. The princess.

  Mikhail inhaled deeply, snapping back to the present. His vampire gift—a heightened intuition about other people, often accompanied by flashes of their memories—seemed to always jar him for a moment. Dmitri frowned at him, recognizing when he had a vision. The flashbacks occurred sporadically and only when someone exerted powerful emotion.

  “Son, you will invoke the wrath of Queen Morgrid,” pleaded Lady Galena.

  “Yes.” Aleksei squeezed her hands. “We know,” he replied with confidence.

  “Why?” Her voice cracked with despair. “You do this for your father? He is dead, Aleksei. Nothing will bring him back.”

  She might as well have been speaking to Mikhail himself. All of the Bloodguard had a vendetta to set right. Blood for blood. Death for death. And a few Legionnaire guards at Briar Rose wouldn’t fulfill the debt owed.

  Mikhail’s mission would right all wrongs and do away with the queen—the heart of evil across the land—for all time. He’d not put her into a bloodless sleep. Not her. That would be too kind. His gaze slid to the princess, standing quiet and demure and perfectly poised. Her calm eased the anger riding him at the thought of the queen.

  Aleksei embraced his mother as she began to weep. Irena quickly stepped toward the princess.

  “Come, Your Highness. I’ll find a place for you to rest. Gentlemen, if you’ll come with me as well.”

  They quickly filed after her, eager to give Aleksei some time alone with his mother. Mikhail shadowed the princess, needing her proximity to keep him grounded. He frowned at the sensation.

  “Your Highness, I believe we are close to the same size. If you wouldn’t mind wearing one of my dresses, though I doubt they’re as beautiful as yours, I’d be happy to lend you one.”

  “That would be lovely.” Vilhelmina smiled at Irena, her genuine appreciation shining in her honest face. “You are too kind.”

  That’s what it was. Every move she made. Every word she said. It was honest to the bone. Beyond her beauty, her pure candor drew him ever more.

  “And might we trouble you to find a few bleeders for us?” asked Dmitri. “We’ll pay handsomely. We need to replenish our strength.”

  Irena glanced at Mikhail’s brother, shyer than she was before when she first met him. Dmitri wasn’t the charmer Aleksei was, but his confident air was no doubt attractive to the ladies.

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat, batting her eyes more than necessary. “We have several servants who I’m sure would be happy to oblige. If you’ll wait in my brother’s study through that door, I’ll send Marshall in a few moments to find hosts for each of you.”

  Irena started up the stairs. Mina behind her.

  Before Mikhail followed the others through the study door, he caught the princess glancing over her shoulder at him, a pinch between her brow.

  “Princess, I’ll bring a cup up to you.” He couldn’t help but let a smile slip. “If that is what you would like.”

  She paused, her delicate hand on the stair railing. “That would be lovely.” She smiled, arching her brow. “Though I did actually prefer my last feeding.”

  Her gaze trailed down to his lips to his throat then to the arm she’d fed from. Her raw desire channeled straight to his cock, hardening it to stone. Sea-blue eyes flared bright, and her secret smile seemed to say she knew exactly what she’d done to him as she sashayed up the staircase.

  She had no idea.

  He was a man of control and power and strength of will. A steely focus guided his every move, allowing him to lead the Bloodguard to become the most feared and revered mercenaries across the entire land of Varis. The sole reason he’d kept such control over the growing guard had been his resolve to uphold the blood oath that set them apart. Of course, a guardsman could fuck as many blood whores as he liked. But attachment was against their laws, an essential rule that kept men from splitting their allegiance between family and the Guard. Not that he’d set his sights on marrying a princess. She’d likely have dozens of suitors once she finally takes her rightful place in Arkadia. And he wouldn’t be one of them. Even so, he watched the tantalizing sway of her hips as she reached the top of the staircase and disappeared out of sight. Then he went in search of a couple bleeders.

  Chapter Four

  Mina watched the steam rise from her arms, draped along the tub’s rim. A hot bath never felt so glorious, the jasmine petals and lemon-scented soap filling her chamber with fragrant warmth. The fire crackled, lulling her into contentment. Though still weak, she’d never felt so good. So alive.

  From the second she snapped open her eyes in the tower, a sense of urgency, of need had washed through her body, through her mind. Even her heart. The captain’s kiss, his blood, seared through her veins, jolting her primal urges to the forefront. It was as if the captain’s essence had changed her. No, not changed. Awakened. Now her eyes were wide open, and she longed to let loose the vampire she’d kept restrained all her life behind a mask of nobility and proper etiquette.

  For Kathleen’s death and for her own wrongful imprisonment, she longed for revenge against Queen Morgrid. Apparently, the queen’s son King Dominik had joined her ranks, for it was his men guarding her at Briar Rose while she lay helplessly in a bloodless sleep.

  “Damn them all.” She surged to her feet, the water sluicing down her breasts, torso, and legs.

  A knock at the door. Mina froze, inhaling the tantalizing scent of leather and mulled spice. A responsive shiver thrilled through her frame. Stepping from the tub, she dabbed quickly with a bit of toweling and hurried into the thin, gauzy wrapper Irena had left for her. Knowing full well the fabric molded to her damp form, revealing more than it concealed, she walked to the door and opened it.

  Mikhail lifted his bent head and froze, the goblet of blood in his hand nearly tipping over.

  Mina pretended not to see his reaction, opening wide the door. “Come in, Captain.”

  He remained in place, his scowl deepening as he seemed to consider whether it was safe to enter her lair. She smiled innocently and waited. Finally, he took heavy steps into the chamber, his gaze falli
ng to the tub, jasmine petals still floating on the water’s surface.

  “I brought you some sustenance.” His voice was rough and slow, like the words were stuck in his throat.

  “Thank you. You can set it over there.” She waved to the sideboard as she walked to the vanity.

  “You need to drink, Your Highness.”

  “Of course. In just a moment.”

  She busied herself uncoiling her braid and damp hair. As she brushed through the dampness in long waves, she watched him in the mirror where he stood with crossed arms, facing the window as the sun slipped away.

  “Why were King Dominik’s Legionnaires guarding me?”

  His gaze flicked to hers in the reflection. Clearing his throat, he finally answered. “King Dominik has a vested interest in keeping you a prisoner.”

  Setting the brush down, she stood and faced him. “Which is?”

  His stormy countenance darkened further. “It was announced not even a fortnight ago at his ball in Izeling that you will be his bride.”

  Mina flinched, the horror of such a thing catapulting her heartbeat into a gallop.

  “I would never agree to a match with him.” She shook her head, her unbound hair sliding over her shoulder and breasts. “How could he make such an announcement without my consent?”

  He lifted the goblet and walked toward her. “He does not care if you give your consent.” His low rumble was a rough caress against her skin. “He would take you by force and then take the armies of Arkadia for his own.” His jaw clenched so tight she heard a pop. “Do not be afraid. It will never happen. I will not allow it. I will protect you with my life.” He handed over the goblet.

  She took it and stared down at the lukewarm blood, her stomach twisting with nausea. She laughed.

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve always taken my feedings this way. In a cup. Secondhand. But now—”

  “But now?” He hadn’t moved, yet his voice sounded closer, more intimate.

  She looked up at him. “But now, I want to drink from you.”

  He froze, full mouth firming into a grim line. “You need human sustenance. To regain your strength.”