Caressed by Moonlight (17 page)

Her heartbeat was dangerously slow, her face pale. He had taken too much.

Dorian took her in his arms and brought her up with him.

He draped her across his lap, smoothed her damp hair aside and did the only thing he knew. He slit his wrist with a razor sharp fang, took hold of her mind that threatened to slip away at any moment, and willed her to drink.

Fear tore at his heart. Panic threatened to take hold of him.

She was not responding. He could not lose her. Not now. Not ever.

He should have made her leave. He should have tossed her out the damn door.

“Drink,” Dorian urged, pressing his lips to her hair. She did not stir, his arms tightened about her as he tried to force himself into her mind. It was no use. Her heart was slowing rapidly. He kissed her temple as a tear slipped down his cheek. “I love you.” The words were torn from his heart; his despair was so
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great that he had not noticed he had spoken them in his native tongue. A language he had not spoken for thousands of years. He wanted to roar his anger, his agony to the heavens, but he did not have the strength, his throat was tight as he continued to chant in ancient Greek 'I love you' over and over again.

He winced when her lips moved over his offering. Dorian closed his eyes as he encouraged her with his thoughts. She gradually began to draw on him, sending pleasure swirling through him. She grew more demanding as the strong, healing blood worked its black magic. Her hands greedily clutched at his arm, pressing it closer and tighter to her mouth. His pleasure quickly turned to pain; with a hiss he pulled his arm away willing the wound closed.

Victoria turned foggy green eyes up to him, her cheeks flushed, her bottom lip pouting with droplets of blood.

“Sweet kitten, you bit yourself.” Dorian ran his thumb across her soft lips, wiping away the rosy liquid. He licked his finger and hissed.

The strong scent of burning flesh floated in the air.

Victoria fell limp in Dorian's arms as he clenched his teeth and held her close. As quickly as it had come, the torturing heat vanished, leaving him gasping for air.

He gently laid her down and ran his fingers through her hair. Then dropped his hand to his hip and grimaced. He glanced down at his newest scar. His eyes shot to Victoria. She bore the same mark on her hip. His mouth went dry and all he could do was mouth the words, “Sweet heaven.”

He yanked on his pants and left the cabin. He needed to find Falcon. Now!

Dorian shoved the door open. The cool sea air had never felt better. He glanced over the deck and found Falcon leaning against the railing towards the bow.

“How did you know?” Dorian demanded.

Falcon did not turn, but answered, “I didn't. I just guessed.”

“I find it hard to believe you would gamble with Victoria's life like that. I could have killed her.” He almost did, but he would not think about that.

“Do you remember the first night I came to your house? I was completely shocked when you introduced this beautiful young woman as your wife. Then after I gave you the news from home your face fell and your shoulders shrunk. I knew then that she had
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to mean something to you. I could tell by the look on your face and the tone of your voice that you did not want to leave her. That is when I first began to suspect she could possibly be your intended.”

Falcon paused as he turned to face Dorian. “As your hunger grew worse and worse, you would curl into a ball in the corner of your cabin and repeated her name again and again. Your voice a low tormented whisper.”

“Was that why you would leave the room?” Dorian asked.

He did not remember much of the voyage. His memory was speckled with empty dark spaces of time when the beast had taken over.

“Yes. It wasn't the monster in you that drove me away. It was the man in you. I couldn't bear to listen to it.”

“What made you send her in?”

“She came to me demanding answers.”

“What did you tell her?” Dorian's voice was no longer friendly, but stern.

“Believe it or not that wife of yours knew what you were.

She is smart,” Falcon said with a smile. “She wanted to help you and there was no way of talking her out of it.”

“I know,” Dorian sighed. He had tried to get her to leave many times but she would not go. He rested his arms on the railing gazing out into the night. The air had never smelt so sweet.

“Welcome back.”

“It's great to be back.”

“I take it that you now have no doubts that she is your mate?”

Dorian nodded as his hand slipped down to his hip. He had the circular shaped scar to prove she was his.

“There is one question that I must ask. Will she be a vampire?”

“No.”

“I took her blood and gave her mine. That is how you make fledglings.”

“It is,” Falcon agreed. “But, from what I understand, when you find your mate you must give and receive in order to bind her to you. There must have been a moment when you shared blood.”

Dorian thought back. It had been the blood on her lips, a mixture of his and hers.

“Dimitri told me that the bonded mate of a vampire never fully transforms. However, she will never age, she will never die, and she will never become ill.”

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“A vampire without the thirst,” Dorian sighed.

“Yes, something to that effect.”

Dorian's thoughts floated back to his wife. She was beautiful, she was all that was good and he was all that was evil and yet they were meant to be. She was his mate.

“What have I done to deserve her?” Dorian whispered.

“Why am I the one who was meant to be king and not those who came before me?”

“You are a good man, Dorian, and as for your second question, there is no answer.”

“Typical,” he snorted.

“I have a question for you,” Falcon said. “What are you going to tell Victoria?”

“I don't know.”

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Chapter Twenty-Four

She knew she was alone before she opened her eyes.

Victoria sat up and glanced about the room. All the furniture had been put to rights, the papers were neatly stacked on the desk, and even the claw marks on the wall were gone. The sun beamed in through the bay window, giving the room a golden glow. She pushed the sheets aside and slowly rose, her legs were weak and her head ached.

Her robe was cast over the back of Dorian's chair. She grabbed the soft material and caught a glance of herself in the full-length mirror. Her eyes fell to the red mark at her hip. She rubbed it with her fingers and cringed. It was an odd shaped scar, a circle within a circle. Where had it come from?

The door was nudged open. Victoria quickly wrapped the robe about her form and fastened the ties in a tight knot before she turned to see who the intruder was.

Dorian kicked the door closed behind him. He crossed to the desk and set down the tray of food he carried. Victoria fell back a step when he met her gaze. His eyes narrowed on her.

“Do you fear me, kitten?” he asked.

Victoria swallowed hard and shook her head. “No.” The man or the beast that she had seen last night did not frighten her.

They both had a vicious bark but a weak bite. He had not harmed her, even though he feared he would.

“It is all right if you do. I'd understand.” Then looking down at the platter of food he asked, “Would you like something to eat?”

Her belly rumbled; the aroma of the food was irresistible.

She floated to the desk and sat in Dorian's chair.

“I'm famished,” she said picking up the fork.

“I know the feeling,” he stated. The light fled from his eyes and he turned away from her, walking to the window.

He had spent all night thinking of what he could say, of how he could explain what had happened between them. Dorian looked into her memories and breathed a sigh of relief when he found she had no recollection of their bonding.

Silence cloaked the room. Victoria tried to ignore the devastatingly handsome vampire by the window as she ate, but no
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matter what she did her eyes kept drifting towards him. Her skin burned to feel his lips, his tongue, and his hands.

“Will you tell me about yourself?” she said, needing to think about something other than his body pressed tightly to hers.

“What do you want to know?”

Dorian pushed an ottoman over to the desk and sat before her, elbows resting on spread knees and hands clasped. He fixed his sea colored eyes on her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, his stare was intense and it made her tingle all over.

“Tell me about your childhood.”

His eyes fell from hers, to stare at his hands.

“It wasn't a pleasant one,” he answered, his voice hard.

“And I would rather not talk about it.”

She nodded and moved on with a lighter subject, “How old are you?”

That brought his charming smile back. “I am 3,013 years old. I was born in the winter, 1,199 years before the death of Christ.”

Her eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open in shock.

“Impossible,” she breathed, setting her tea down, her hands shaking.

“I'm a vampire, Victoria,” he said. “My age is very possible. I was twenty-seven when I was changed and will remain twenty-seven forever.”

“You are archaic.”

“I am ancient, not archaic. The Fathers were archaic.”

“Fathers?”

“The pure blood vampires, the originals,” he answered.

She swallowed hard again, her mind a buzz of questions she was hesitant to ask, but she would not shrink away. She needed answers. She needed to understand. Sitting up straight in the throne-like chair, she was determined to learn all she could.

“Where did the Fathers come from?”

“No one knows anything about the creation of our race. I asked Dimitri numerous times before he died. He took the knowledge to his grave.”

“Who is Dimitri?”

“He was the last pure blood to die,” Dorian stated, his eyes sparkled with a mixture of sadness and anger.

Dimitri was the first true friend he had ever had and Dorian was convinced that his death had been well thought out. Ven, Dimitri's second, had made it clear to all that he wanted the throne.

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Dorian believed the leech had offered his friend to the Red Order and that Kal was doing the same to him. But Kal was taking it a step further than Ven. He was killing the clan members with the hopes of starting his own family.

Shaking his head, banishing his dark thoughts, he cleared his throat and continued, “Dimitri wasn't a Father though. He did not create a clan, unlike the others. He believed that no one deserved the life of a vampire.”

She bit her lip and mustered up her courage to ask, “Have you changed anyone?”

He fixed his eyes on her again. “No, I agreed with him.

The kings who came before me made enough fledglings. As it is, my clan far outnumbers the rest. Or I should say it did.” Kal and the Red Order hunters were sliming the numbers.

“How were you made?” She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, but curiosity pushed her to ask.

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.

“Cassius, one of the Fathers, changed me. It was after a ruthless battle. He had hidden himself amongst my men, pretending to be a soldier. He told me later that he liked to join human wars, it gave him an excuse to kill.” Dorian paused as he tried to remember that day long ago. “The battle lasted for days and after the second wave of attacks only a handful of my men were left. There was to be no retreat, no surrender, my men did not know the meaning of those words. We fought until I alone was standing with Cassius at my side.” He winced now as he remembered with clarity. “The enemy kept coming. I beat them back and cut them down until a spear ran me through. A coward had struck me from behind and before I fell, I claimed his and five other's lives.” Dorian's eyes became distant. “The wind blew, carrying the scent of death with it. Both armies were destroyed.

Cassius had laid waste to my enemy.

I was struggling for breath when he came to me. He placed a hand over my heart and tilted my head to the side. Cassius leaned down and whispered, 'you will live warrior.' Then he bit me.

I was too close to death to be frightened. He drank until there was nothing but a drop left of my blood.” Dorian rubbed his neck.

“Then, he brought his wrist up and slit it with his fangs. Leaving his hand over my chest he pressed his wound to my mouth. I was powerless to stop him. The pain of my body dieing melted away and all grew dark.”

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Victoria gripped the arms of the chair, her knuckles white.

She was captured in his story. She could see the scenes as if she were standing right before them.

“He explained to me that the reason he put his hand over my heart,” he pressed his palm to his chest, “was to keep my soul safe. A vampire is more powerful when he still possesses his gift from God.” He sucked in a painfully sharp breath. “I've never told anyone that.”

Victoria was shocked when his eyes flickered with terror.

Had he just slipped a death-dealing secret? Did he think she could not be trusted?

Dorian’s gazed dropped once again to his hands.

“I shouldn’t have a complete soul,” he stated.

“Do most vampires not possess a soul?”

“When a vampire shares their blood it poisons the soul until the next full moon comes. While a fledgling is in transition, the soul shatters and most of it dies, but some pieces are left behind, leaving the vampire with an essence of their former self.

We retain our ability to feel emotion, though we do not handle them very well since we are no longer whole.”

“What happens if a vampire’s entire soul dies?”

“They die. Most don’t make it through the transition. If a person was emotionally and mentally strong in their life, they should survive the change, but it’s not a guarantee.”

His eyes came up to hers, black and questioning. She shuttered from their force. Their lethal depths danced with delight at her spark of fear.

“Does it bother you that I am a vampire?” he asked, revealing his fangs.

“It did in the beginning. I didn’t want to believe you were some mythical beast. I kept trying to forget what I saw that first night we were on the ship.”

Dorian remembered when he had lost his hold on the vampire within him. He allowed her to see what he was and had feared that he had ruined everything they had together.

“What changed?” His black eyes were sharp.

“I don’t know,” she lied. Victoria knew the moment she saw him huddled in the corner of the cabin last night, she had fallen in love with him. She did not know when it happened. The night they made love for the first time? Or when he proposed? No, it had been the night they met under the moonlight. Dorian had laid
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claim to her heart then and now she would no longer hide her feelings for him.

Victoria stood and, without a thought, she rounded the desk and came to stand before him. His eyes slowly faded back to the natural swirl of blue and green and his fangs retracted. She gingerly touched his face, her fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw. Dorian took her hand and stood, towering over her like the ancient king he was.

“I have to tell you something,” he whispered.

Her eyes were so trusting as they gazed into his. He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head. Then she stole his breath away, rising on her toes she kissed him. Dorian knew he should pull away. He knew that he should make her wait until after he told her what had happened last night. But he could not move and his heart tightened as he wondered how she would react to his words.

He groaned, deepening the kiss, pushing his worries and thoughts aside, he brought her tight against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he tugged on the belt about her waist. The front of the robe slipped open. His hand dipped in and drifted up her ribcage to her breast. He cupped one and toyed with the hard nipple. She groaned. His free hand gripped her bare hips, his fingers biting her soft flesh.

Dorian’s lips fell from hers to feast on her throat. He glanced up and cursed, the bed was too far away, he would never make it, his hunger to claim her, to be inside her, was too strong.

He backed her against the desk and with one soft movement he placed her on the edge of the smooth wooden furniture.

Victoria’s breath came in gasps as Dorian’s lips tortured her. His teeth teased her collarbone, her shoulders, and played with her ears. She gripped his shoulders, his shirt bunching in her hands.

He spread her legs wide and pressed his hips against hers. She could feel his swollen shaft against her thigh and it drove her wild.

His hands skipped down her hips, across her belly to the place she yearned for him to touch. One long finger dipped into her as his mouth came to mate with hers. Dorian stoked her until she was close to oblivion. He undid his trousers and drove in deep.

Victoria moaned into his mouth as his tongue matched the powerful thrusts of his hips. He moved fast and hard. She thought she would die before she reached the end. Dorian’s arm’s enveloped her, he crushed her breast to his chest, he growled at the feel of her hard nipples through his shirt. Victoria’s toes curled as
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she was pushed higher and higher to climax. Then, with one last gasp into his hot, ravenous mouth she burst into a scorching blaze of pleasure. Dorian buried his hands in her hair as her muscles clenched him, sending him over the edge.

She fought for air and once the last vibration of ecstasy washed through her she sagged against his hard chest, dizzy.

Dorian panted, dropping his head to her shoulder, he whispered, his voice gruff, “Will you be mine for all eternity?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

He brought her head back and gazed into her dazed eyes.

Her lips were moist, swollen, and parted. She was pale and he remembered how much blood she had lost the night before. He kissed her softly before he pulled away. He fixed his pants and retrieved her robe before taking her up in his arms.

Dorian set her down on the bed. Smoothing back her hair, he placed a kiss on her brow. She smiled, sated, satisfied, and drained.

“Sleep kitten. We will talk more later,” he vowed.

He waited the few seconds it took for her to drift into her dreams before he left. He paused outside the door, rubbing his temples.

He had been a coward.

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