The Warlord Wants Forever Part 13

"It feels good. It's very rare to get a direct hit-"

Outside, something, some male, howled with fury. Nikolai tensed to trace her away.

"Oh, don't worry. Just another crazy day at the manor." She waved away his tension. "A Lykae nabbed little Emmaline and took her back to Scotland-thinks she's his werewolf queen or something."

"Werewolf queen?"

"Uh-huh. So Lucia trapped the Lykae's brother for leverage, but apparently he's proving uncooperative. Anyway, if you knew Em you'd see how ridiculous the idea is. She's terrified of her own shadow, much less a roaring Lykae's unique ... appet.i.tes."

He'd have to ask her about that later. "She's the halfling-the one that's part vampire." When her brows drew together he rushed to a.s.sure her, "I will never tell Kristoff about her, but I suspect that Ivo's searching for her." drew together he rushed to a.s.sure her, "I will never tell Kristoff about her, but I suspect that Ivo's searching for her."

"We know. We're sending a retrieval party after her. Once they bring her back, she'll be safe here. The wraiths will shut out any threat." One flew by the window at that moment, cackling to punctuate her statement.

He raised his eyebrows and when she grinned, he cupped her face with a bandaged hand. "I love you."

"I know."

"Could you ... could you feel the same way? Before you answer, I want you to know that I meant what I said. I am sorry for forcing you to stay and for losing my head. I will always be shamed by my actions."

"Wroth, I wanted to stay with you after, oh-about a day! I'd planned to play you, but realized early that I was falling in love with you." I'd planned to play you, but realized early that I was falling in love with you."

He hadn't heard her correctly. Yes, she'd been upset over his injuries, but that didn't mean she loved loved him. "You're saying you love me too?" him. "You're saying you love me too?"

She nibbled her lip and nodded. "I'd always had a crush on you, you know."

When he frowned, she said, "I used to adore hearing tales about you. And was saddened when we'd heard you'd died. Then to meet you in person?" She blushed a little. "I found that you lived up to my fantasy of you."

He was bewildered to hear this from his fierce, stunningly beautiful wife. In a gravelly voice, he spoke an utter understatement, "That gives my ego a bit of a boost coming from you."

Her lips curled. "Among other things, the uncommon gift of a direct strike of lightning, and and the fact that you were the only man able to free me from my chain, the fact that you were the only man able to free me from my chain, and and the fact that you were so sodding eager to give up your life for mine-though mind you, if you try that again, I'm going to kill you-have all convinced me that we should be together." the fact that you were so sodding eager to give up your life for mine-though mind you, if you try that again, I'm going to kill you-have all convinced me that we should be together."

"Always, Myst. I'd do it easily." When she was about to protest, he asked, "What about your family? I will try if they will."

"For all the reasons I just listed, a couple of my sisters have decided they'll try to overcome their repugnance of you."

He scowled at that. "Big-minded of them."

"Yet they want nothing to do with Kristoff or any among your order. You're the exception because they felt like they knew you as a human and because of what has happened between us. But if, say, your brother showed up here, they'd ... it would be ... bad."

"I understand."

"If you can make a genuine effort, I believe they will all come to accept you in time."

He wanted to be clear on this. "Accept you as my wife and me as your husband?" He wanted everything from her. Not just a few decades. He wanted forever. And as long as she was in a giving mood ...

She nodded, a smile playing about her lips. "We still have a lot to muddle through, mind you. Our families and our factions, and who controls the remote, and living logistics-because Blachmount needs TLC Blachmount needs TLC and and lightning rods in a bad way. But I suppose I have to take possession of you, since I've already taken possession of my engagement ring." lightning rods in a bad way. But I suppose I have to take possession of you, since I've already taken possession of my engagement ring."

He grinned. "You liked that, did you?"

"I couldn't take my eyes off of it," she said with a saucy smile.

He clasped her to him and pulled her close, knowing she craved being wrapped tight and secure in his arms as much as he needed her soft and trusting within them. "I can't quite believe this. Even after everything?" If she could give him another chance, Nikolai thought they could do anything together.

"Yes. But ..." She stroked the smooth backs of her claws down his arm. "You'll have to spend eternity making it up to me."

He released her to lever himself above her, cupping the back of her neck. His gaze flickered over her face, then met the eyes of his wife as she smiled up at him. Feeling love for her so strong it hurt him, his voice ragged with it, he rasped, "Milaya, "Milaya, it is done." it is done."

If you enjoyed Kresley Cole's "The Warlord Wants Forever"

Don't miss LOTHAIRE Coming January 2012 from Gallery Books Here's a preview of Lothaire ...

AN EXCLUSIVE SNEAK PREVIEW OF LOTHAIRE

PROLOGUE

Castle Helvita, Horde vampire stronghold.

RUSSIAN WINTER, IN AGES LONG PAST.

What fresh humiliation does this day bring?" Ivana the Bold asked her son, Lothaire, as guards escorted them to the vampire known as Stefanovich-the king of the Vampire Horde.

And Lothaire's father.

Though only nine, Lothaire could tell his mother's tone held a trace of recklessness. "And why wake you?" she demanded of him, as if he could explain his father's rash ways.

The summons had come at noon, well past his bedtime. "I know not, Mother," he mumbled as he adjusted his clothing. He'd had only seconds to dress.

"I grow weary of this treatment. One day he will push me too far and rue it."

Lothaire had overheard her complaining to his uncle Fyodor about the king's "tirades and dalliances, his increasingly bizarre behavior." She'd softly confessed, "I threw away my love on your brother, am naught but an ill-treated mistress in this realm, though I was heir to the throne in Dacia." Fyodor had tried to comfort her, but she'd said, "I knew I only had so long with him before his heart stopped its beating. Now I question whether he has a heart at all." mistress in this realm, though I was heir to the throne in Dacia." Fyodor had tried to comfort her, but she'd said, "I knew I only had so long with him before his heart stopped its beating. Now I question whether he has a heart at all."

Today her ice-blue eyes were ablaze with a dangerous light. "I was meant for better than this." With each of her steps, the furs that spilled over her shoulders swayed back and forth. The skirts of her scarlet gown rustled, a pleasing sound he always a.s.sociated with her. "And you, my prince, were as well."

She called him "prince," but Lothaire wasn't one. At least, not in this kingdom. He was merely Stefanovich's b.a.s.t.a.r.d, one in a long line of them.

They followed the two guards up winding stairs to the king's private suites. The walls were gilded with gold and moist with cold. Outside a blizzard pounded the castle.

Sconces lit the way, reflected flames flickering over the metal, but nothing could alleviate the gloom of these echoing corridors.

Lothaire shivered, longing to be back in his warm bed with his new puppy dozing over his legs.

Once they reached the anteroom outside of Stefanovich's chambers and the guards began opening the groaning gold doors, Ivana smoothed her hands over her elaborate white-blond braids and lifted her chin. Not for the first time, Lothaire thought she looked like an angel of yore.

Inside, lining the back wall, was a soaring window of jet gla.s.s inlaid with symbols of the dark arts. The stained gla.s.s kept out the faint sunlight visible through the storm and made a fearsome backdrop for the king's chair.

Not that the towering vampire needed anything more to make him fearsome. His build was more like a demon's, his shoulders broader than a carrying plank, his fists like anvils.

"Ah, Ivana Daciano deigns to obey a summons," Stefanovich called from the head of his long dining table. Every night his eyes seemed to grow redder, their crimson glow standing out against the sand-colored hair that fell over his forehead. night his eyes seemed to grow redder, their crimson glow standing out against the sand-colored hair that fell over his forehead.

The dozen or so courtiers seated with him stared at Ivana with undisguised malice. In turn, she drew her lips back to flash her fangs. She found these courtiers beneath her and made no secret of it.

Seated to the king's left was Lothaire's uncle Fyodor, who appeared embarra.s.sed.

Lothaire followed Ivana's gaze to the seat at Stefanovich's right hand-a place of honor usually reserved for her. Dining plates littered with the remains of a meal were spread before it.

Occasionall, young vampires ate food of the earth, consuming it in addition to blood. Perhaps another of Stefanovich's b.a.s.t.a.r.ds had come to Helvita to live amongst them?

Lothaire's heart leapt. I could befriend him, could have a companion. I could befriend him, could have a companion. As the king's b.a.s.t.a.r.d, he'd had no friends; his mother was everything to him. As the king's b.a.s.t.a.r.d, he'd had no friends; his mother was everything to him.

"'Tis late," Ivana said. "All should be abed at this hateful hour."

Fyodor seemed to be silently warning Ivana, but she paid him no heed, demanding, "What do you want, Stefanovich?"

After drinking deep from a tankard of mead-laced blood, Stefanovich wiped his sleeve over his lips. "To see my haughty mistress and her feeble b.a.s.t.a.r.d." The king stared down at Lothaire. "Come."

"Do not, Son," Ivana bit out in Dacian.

Lothaire answered in the same, "I will, to spare you." As ever, he would do whatever he could to protect her, no matter how weak he knew himself to be.

In her expression, anxiety for him warred with pride. "I should have known Lothaire Daciano would never cower behind his mother's skirts, even in the face of such a red-eyed tyrant."

When Lothaire crossed to stand before the king's seat, Stefanovich shook his head with disgust. "You still cannot trace, then?" then?"

Lothaire's face was impa.s.sive as he answered, "Not yet, my king." No matter how hard he tried to teleport, he could never succeed. Ivana had told him that tracing was a talent that came late to the Daci-they had limited need for it in their closed kingdom. She considered Lothaire's inability yet another sign that he took after her more than after a mere Horde vampire.

Stefanovich seized Lothaire's thin arm, squeezing. "Too frail, I see."

Lothaire was desperate to grow bigger, eagerly eating food from the earth. He yearned to be as formidable as his warrior father, if for no reason other than to protect his mother. Not that Princess Ivana needed another's protection.

"By all the G.o.ds, you shame me, boy. I should have wrung your runtling neck at birth."

Lothaire heard these criticisms routinely, was used to them.

His mother, however, was not.

With a shriek, Ivana s.n.a.t.c.hed up a carafe of blood, hurling it at Stefanovich. It shattered a pane of black gla.s.s just behind him, unleashing a ray of muted light.

The courtiers hissed, scattering throughout the chamber. The beam seared inches from Stefanovich's unmoving elbow before a day servant scurried to stuff the hole with a wadded cloth.

"My son is perfect perfect." Ivana bared her fangs, her blue irises gone black with emotion. "Other than the fact that he bears your your stamp upon his face. Luckily, he inherited his keen mind from my royal lineage. He's full of cunning, a mark of the Daci!" stamp upon his face. Luckily, he inherited his keen mind from my royal lineage. He's full of cunning, a mark of the Daci!"

Stefanovich too bared his razor-sharp fangs, his eyes blazing even redder. "You tempt my wrath, woman!"

"As you tempt mine." Ivana never backed down before him. Whenever Stefanovich struck her, she struck him back twice.

Ivana had told Lothaire that the Daci were coldly logical, ruled by reason. Apparently, Ivana the Bold was the exception.

Fierce as the blizzard raging outside, she even goaded Stefanovich to get his attention, lashing him with her barbed tongue whenever he stared off into the night. She had once admitted to Lothaire that his father dreamed of finding the vampire female who would eventually be his-Stefanovich's Bride, the one who would make his heart beat for eternity.

The lawful queen who would bear his true heirs.

Ivana smoothed her braids once more, so clearly struggling with her unruly temper. "You mock your son at your own peril, Stefanovich."

"Son? I don't claim him as such. That boy will never compare to my true successor!" Another gulp from his tankard. "Of that I am certain."

"I am as well. Lothaire will be superior to any other male in all ways! He's a Dacian!"

Lothaire watched this exchange with deepening unease, recalling the warning his uncle Fyodor had once given Ivana: "Even Stefanovich can grow jealous of your knowledge and strength. You must bend bend, ere his love for you turns to hate."

Lothaire knew his uncle's warning had come true.

For Stefanovich looked murderous. "You believe your kind so much better than mine-"

A female drunkenly staggered into the room from Stefanovich's private chamber. A mortal mortal female. female.

Lothaire's jaw slackened, and Ivana pressed the back of her hand over her mouth.

The woman was dressed as a queen, her garments as rich as Ivana's own. She She was the one who'd dined at the king's right hand? was the one who'd dined at the king's right hand?

"A human?" Ivana's shock quickly turned to ire. "You dare bring one of those diseased animals into my home! Near my only offspring?" She strode forward to shove Lothaire behind her.

Though adult vampires were immortal, Lothaire was still vulnerable to illness.

"The human human is Olya, my new mistress." is Olya, my new mistress."

"Mistress!" Ivana cried. "More like a pet. Her kind live in dirt hovels, sleeping amongst their livestock!"

Stefanovich waved for the woman, and she coyly meandered over to him. "Ah, but she tastes of wine and honey." He turned to his brother. "Does she not, Fyodor?"

Fyodor flashed a guilty look at Ivana.

Pulling his pet into his lap, Stefanovich sneered, "You should sample her, Ivana." He bared the mortal's pale arm.

Ivana's eyes widened. "Taking blood straight from her skin! I would no more sink my fangs into a human than into any other animal. Shall I bring you swine to pierce?"