Royal House of Shadows Box Set: Lord of the Vampires\Lord of Rage\Lord of the Wolfyn\Lord of the Abyss (10 page)

His father, King Aelfric, was sick.

The healers did not know if he would recover. Nicolai’s mother, Queen Alvina, was frantic with worry. She’d tried countless spells and incantations, yet nothing she’d done had worked.
Nicolai
had tried countless spells, using the healing magic he’d stolen from her. Not even that elicited favorable results. Alvina suspected foul play, but until she figured out what kind of magic had been used, her hands were as good as tied.

Nicolai loved his father, gruff though the king was. Besides that, he wasn’t ready to take the throne. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be ready. Becoming king would mean his father was dead, and he wanted his father to live forever.

And, to be honest, despite Nicolai’s best efforts,
despite a few years without a single episode, his temper sometimes got the better of him. When that happened, entire villages suffered. He was simply too volatile to rule an entire kingdom.

His father might be gruff, but he was fair. Fair, except when it came to Nicolai’s marriage. Though his father had demanded, ranted, raved, Nicolai had refused to settle down. He wasn’t ready to take a queen.

Being saddled with the same woman forever? That could become a hell as dark as the Abyss. He spent every night with a new female. Sometimes two new females. And once, three.

And all right, fine. Perhaps that lifestyle had grown tiresome. Perhaps the prize was never worthy of the chase. But some of his friends had married, and though a few were happy, the rest were miserable—and there was nothing they could do to change their fate. Marriage was forever.

His father wanted him to wed a princess from a neighboring kingdom, but he had not found one that appealed to him. Giving such creatures his name, sharing his kingdom, would grate every hour of every day.

“Nicki,” a young voice called. “Nicki!”

Nicolai was on his feet a second later, hopping along the rocks and racing toward his youngest brother. The youngest prince was on the beach, beside Nicolai’s boots, and unharmed. Relief speared him.

“Micah, damn it. What are you doing out here? Until you’re older, you’re not supposed to be near the water on your own.”

The little boy screwed up his lips, all determination and courage. “I’m not on my own! You’re here.” A mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Damn it.” Just like that, Nicolai’s anger deflated. As always he could not stay angry with the scamp. Micah looked up to him, wanted to spend time with him, and Nicolai loved that. Loved
him
. Even though the boy had butchered his name while learning to speak, and his family sometimes still teased him with the nickname. “O-lie.”

At least he had later moved on to “Nicki.”

The females who made their way to Nicolai’s bed often called him by the shortened Nicki, as well, but that invited a familiarity he never seemed to feel toward them, and after a quick admonishment, they never did it again.

He was almost afraid something was wrong with him. He loved his family with his whole heart, but no one else could penetrate the barrier he’d unwittingly constructed.

“Did you come to swim?” Micah asked when Nicolai reached him.

“No, to think.”

“Can I help?” the boy asked eagerly. Golden hair gleamed in the moonlight. He smiled, two of his teeth missing. He was not a vampire, like Nicolai and Dayn, but he was powerful all the same. Though he had a warrior’s heart, he took after their mother and sister in so many ways.

“Of course you can.” Nicolai sat and patted the sand.

Micah plopped down beside him. For several seconds, they breathed in the moist, salt laden air, silent. Of course, Micah did not do this calmly. He shifted and he kicked out his legs, trying to get comfortable but never quite succeeding.

“Thinking makes me tired,” Micah finally said. “Not like playing.”

Nicolai bit back a smile. “What do you want to play?”

The image changed in a heartbeat, not giving way to a single moment of darkness. Nicolai was suddenly lying in the bed beside his father. Somehow, he knew a few days had passed since his night on the beach.

The king was recovering. Healers had drained him and Nicolai had fed him blood straight from his own vein. Every drop that he could spare, Nicolai had given—and even some that he couldn’t. Finally, success. The poison had been vanquished, and now, the two men were recovering together.

“Pick a female and marry her,” his father said. “If not one of the princesses, someone. Anyone. Please, Nicolai. I nearly died. Might still, though I feel stronger every hour. Please. You need an anchor, like your mother is to me. Someone to pull you back from the madness.
Please
.”

His father had never begged for anything. That he was now, over this…Nicolai did not have the heart to fight him any longer. He’d been pushing himself to this conclusion, anyway.

“As you wish, Father. It will be done. A princess from a neighboring kingdom, as you’ve already approved.”

Tides of relief permeated the room. “Thank you. Thank you, my son.”

Darkness, there again. Indomitable.

Nicolai heard a female scream, jolting him.

This time, when he came back to himself, he was crouched on a flat rock in the middle of the crimson
lake. Closer to the moss-covered castle. The monsters had scented him, and were peering over at him through beady eyes. Their tails swayed, ready to strike at him if he dared move any closer.

The moon was still high, the hooked edges bleeding into a sky covered in a thick film of ash, hiding all the stars.

Those fiendish fish darted around him, teeth chomping at him, closer, closer. He was soaked with sweat, his heart a sledgehammer against his ribs, his muscles trembling. His mind, still lost. Aelfric. Alvina. Names.

Every member of his family now had a name.

Damn it, where were they? Did they still live? How long had he been away from them?

Quite a while, if this landscape was any indication.

He needed to search for them, but that scream…female… His female, he realized. Jane was screaming.

Jane!

His blood burned in his veins, singeing, leaving blisters. Those blisters caught fire, tiny infernos that swiftly spread. With a growl, he pushed to his feet. His boots slipped on the slimy rock, but he managed to maintain his balance.

The monsters tensed. He should challenge them. Wipe the castle stones with their entrails. Yes… His heartbeat slowed, becoming a sporadic fist in his chest. No, he decided next. He would have revenge, would find his family—after. Jane needed him now.

His gaze skated over the violated water, the crumbling cliffs farther ashore, the hideous castle straight from a nightmare. He’d traveled here through his memories. Therefore, it stood to reason he could reach Jane through his memories, as well.

He closed his eyes, pictured her as he’d last seen her. Underneath him. Her naked body splayed for his pleasure.

Her expression was soft and heated, her teeth nibbling on her lush bottom lip. Her eyes were at half-mast, the long length of her lashes casting shadows over her flushing cheeks. That long, glorious mane of honey-colored hair was spread around her, the ends curling.

Her breasts were small but firm, her nipples pink and beaded. He’d kissed them, sucked them. Her stomach was flat, her navel a work of art. He’d licked, down…down. Between her legs was the sweetest patch of honey-colored curls, shielding his new favorite place in this world or any other.

Her legs were long and lean, and they wrapped around him just right.

Nicolai,
he thought he heard her whisper.

He would have liked
her
to call him Nicki. Anything that promoted familiarity between them. He wanted her tied to him, in every possible way, forever. A forever that Jane might refuse to give him. If he had proposed to a neighboring princess—and he did not delude himself into thinking that princess was Odette, making his life simple—someone
was
waiting for him.

They had not wed, though. Marriage was forever to his people, and his body would react to no one save his wife. But. Yes, but. He would have pledged his name, his life. Easy to dismiss when he’d had no memory of agreeing to do so. Not so easy now, but that wouldn’t stop him.

Nicolai did not want to be without Jane. He
wouldn’t
be without her. He would find her and return to Elden.
She
would be his queen.

Elden. This decimated land truly was Elden.

The bloody lake was as much a part of his kingdom as the wasteland he’d first appeared in. His kingdom.
Not
the Blood Sorcerer’s. A man Nicolai had dreamed of destroying. Would destroy.

Sickness churned in his stomach, because he knew what that meant. The Blood Sorcerer had slain his parents. Aelfric and Alvina would never have allowed their lands to wither like this.

Nicolai ached with the need to return the favor.

Don’t think about that now. Find Jane.

He opened his eyes, realized he had transported himself back to the wasteland. Those slithering vines were closing in… He squeezed his lids shut, imagined Jane, felt his body disintegrate, the ground disappearing from beneath his feet. When next he looked, the lush forest of Delfina surrounded him. However, he did not see the camp or Jane.

He breathed deeply, catching her scent. He kicked into motion, running faster and faster, cutting the distance between them as rapidly as possible. All the while, he continued to picture her, the trees around them, until he blinked and at last found himself in the camp she had constructed.

Unable to slow his momentum, he smacked into a thick trunk and stumbled backward, into the water.

Another scream reverberated in his head, this one louder and far more desperate. His fangs lengthened, slicing into his bottom lip. His hands curled into fists, but his claws, not yet healed, merely tickled his skin. The daggers Jane had made lay at his feet. He strapped as many as he could to his arms and legs.

He started forward, his stride determined. Her scent
was stronger now…tinged with fear… Every step closer to her heated his blood with fury. She was marked, his, the path she’d taken suddenly a beacon in the night.

Anyone who had touched her would suffer. It was time the entire kingdom of Delfina—and all the kingdoms in this realm—realized that truth. Even if that meant unleashing the deadliest force of his temper.

I’m coming, little Jane.

M
oving the festivities to the king’s bedroom, Jane thought, had been smart. In theory. But she hadn’t known all the variables, or “monkey wrenches” as she’d called them, while working in her lab, which very often proved to be fatal while experimenting. The biggest monkey wrench this time around? In the throne room, she would have performed on the king of the monsters, and the king alone, while everyone else watched and probably cheered. In the “privacy” of his bedroom, he expected her to service him and friends. At the same time.

This was explained to her on the march down the hallway.

So, even though they’d switched locations, and even though his personal guards had remained behind with the hags to keep them company, there were now four men waiting for Jane to kick things off.

Not that she planned to put on a performance. She would rather die. And she just might.

The moment the newest giants spotted her, their eyes began to glow that dark, eerie red. Their bodies tensed, getting ready for the pleasure they expected to receive. Like Nicolai, they wore loincloths. Those loincloths were now tented.

The king pushed her forward, and she spun to keep her eyes on him. Already he was stripping. Leather crisscrossed over his chest, creating
X
’s—
so
not a treasure map—but a second later off came the crisscrosses, then the cloth. Daggers were strapped to his waist. Those he kept on. Dread and horror blended, rushing through her.

Okay, think, Parker. Think.

He pointed to the spot at his feet. “On knees. Use mouth on me. Hands on men. Orloft fuck you.”

The guards licked their lips, every one of them. Okay. Okay. Options appeared and disappeared in an instant—and all of them were disappointing. She could do as ordered, and bite the king so hard he wouldn’t be using his penis on anyone for a long time. If ever. He’d hit her and dislodge her teeth. A blow that would break her jaw, surely. After that, he’d be able to shove whatever he wanted into her mouth and she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

She could run. There was no door to stop her. In fact, the entryways and exits were open and airy. But as good as that was for her, that was also good for the men. Four here, plus twenty or so in the throne area. They would give chase. Nothing would block them, and she would be caught. They knew this cavern better than she did, after all. She’d probably be gang banged.

She could fight the king and his personal guards, here and now. They would win, no question, but she would have tried. And she might die
before
actual penetration, so that was a plus. If Nicolai was out there, this might give him time to find her.

He was out there.

All right, then. She had a plan of action. Next up, finding a weapon.

The cavern boasted no luxuries. There was a pallet in the far corner. In the other corner was a pile of bones. Bones. Okay. Not the greatest weapons of all time, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She could use one as a club.

“Woman. Knees. Mouth. Pleasure. Now.”

Jane tried the easiest approach: walking to the pile. Midway, the king jumped in her path. Very well. Easy way, out. She pretended to lunge left. He followed. She quickly switched and ran to his right. The four giants who’d been watching and waiting moved directly in front of the pile and crossed their arms over their chests. Okay, so. Hard way, out, too.

There was only one thing left to do. She widened her stance and prepared for an attack. “My answer is no.”

The king frowned, glanced at his men with splayed arms, all
Women, so stupid, but what can we do?
before again pointing at his feet. “You. Knees. Now.”

“I understand what you’re saying.” Moron. Some people drank at the fountain of knowledge. He must have gargled and spit. Then again, he might not have done even that. “That’s why I’m telling you no.”

He flashed his saber teeth at her. “But you said—”

“I lied. You’re ugly and mean and I wouldn’t give
myself to you even if a flesh eating bacteria was ravaging this world, and your cock held the only immunization.”

Confusion followed by relief bathed his monstrous features. “Cock. You. Yes.”

Of course that’s the only word he cared about.
“No.”

His eyes narrowed to tiny slits, and she would not have been surprised to find a red bull’s-eye in the center of her forehead. “I make you.”

“That what I thought you’d say.” She lifted her chin and waved her fingers. “You’re very predictable, after all. So, let’s cut the chitchat and do this.”

Growling low in his throat, he advanced. He stretched out a hand to grab her, and she ducked, swung around and elbowed him in the stomach. He grunted, hunching over to gasp for air. The others laughed and snickered. Their merriment surprised her. She’d expected fury.

The king straightened before she could render another blow, found her with his gaze and advanced. Again, she ducked and swung; again, she elbowed him. Again, he hunched over, breathless.

This time, the guards clapped. They must think this was foreplay.

She raced behind the king before he could gain his bearings and kicked. He stumbled forward. She jumped up and, as she came down, elbowed the top of his head. He went down, face-first. The success of her moves thrilled and strengthened her, pumping adrenaline through her system. One more blow to the king for good measure, and she’d turn her attention to the guards.

Except, as she thrust out her leg to kick him in the stomach, he rolled and latched on to her ankle. With
only a tug, he sent her crashing to her ass. Oxygen exploded from her lungs. Black and white winked before her eyes, little spiderwebs and starbursts.

Before she had time to act, the king swung out his meaty fist.
Contact
. Her poor cheekbone cracked. Skin split. Her brain rattled against her skull, and the black in her vision completely overpowered the white.

Just like that, her advantage was lost. Not that she’d ever really had one.

Crawl away. Curl into a protective ball. Something!

Too late. Another punch landed, this one on her jaw. For an endless span, pain and dizziness and nausea became her only companions. Then the spiderweb of black expanded, closing in.
Don’t you dare pass out!

Another punch.

So. Much. Pain.
Okay, you can pass out now
.

Of course, that’s when the darkness thinned against another blast of adrenaline, sharpening her wits. Jane wanted to scream for help, but knew no one here would do anything to help her. Only hurt her further. Plus, physically, she
couldn’t
scream. As she’d feared, her jaw was broken.

Another punch.

More pain. No,
pain
wasn’t an adequate word for what she experienced. Agony, perhaps, but even that seemed too tame a descriptor.

Hard fingers wrapped around her biceps and shook her, causing the agony to radiate through the rest of her. “Look at me.”

She blinked opened her eyes. Or eye. One of them was already sealed shut, the upper and lower lid glued together, concealing what felt like a golf ball. She lay on
her back, and the king loomed over her. The moment he realized she was awake, he began ripping at her robe.

He liked to fight his conquests, then. Well, she would give him one to remember. She gritted her teeth against a new onslaught of suffering and kicked him in the face. The action was unexpected, and he stumbled backward before at last hitting the floor. Somehow, she managed to pull herself into a sitting position. The starbursts returned, pushing a moan out of her.

“Hold her,” the king said with an evil grin. He rubbed at his erection. His bare erection. He’d already removed his loincloth.

Eager to please—as well as get their hands on her, she was sure—the men jumped to obey. In a blink, she was flat on her back, her hands anchored over her head and her legs pinned and spread.

Just. Like. That.

In another blink, her breasts were being squeezed and her nipples pinched. And all four giants were staring between her thighs, waiting for her femininity to be revealed.

“No,” she snapped, but the word was intelligible. “No!” Was this what Nicolai had endured?

They laughed. The king fisted the tattered hem of her robe. The rest of the fabric ripped.

Beyond the cavern, a scream echoed. Her attackers paused, frowned, looked at one another. Another scream echoed, followed by another. And another. Each was pain filled and panicked. Were the beasts fighting among themselves, perhaps over the hags, or had Nicolai arrived?

Hope bloomed within her.

The king shrugged, his attention returning to her
body. She wore only her panties now, and they already were ripped in the crotch and therefore useless as far as barriers went. He licked his lips as he stroked his cock once, twice, preparing to penetrate her.

“Big,” he said, practically patting himself on the back. In this, he was right. His penis was thick, too thick, and as long as a battering ram. She would be torn apart.

Her hope withered, died. Tears blurred her good eye, and she whimpered, the sound as broken as her jaw. Any second now, and…

A snarl reverberated, deep and ominous. Closer now, so close.

Neither the guards nor the king looked away from her to check who had uttered the enraged warning. But suddenly Jane knew, sensed. Nicolai
was
here.

“You’re gonna die real bad,” she said flatly. Again, her injuries made the words incomprehensible, but she didn’t care. Saying them offered a small measure of satisfaction.

“Never die.” Still grinning, the king fell to his knees. The guards leaned closer, their hands inching up her arms and legs. Then, as the king guided his cock toward her, something swiped out faster than her eye could track. Blood sprayed. The king roared in pain and shock.

That same something—a real dagger Nicolai must have stolen from the ogres—swiped at the guards, hitting two at a time. More blood, more roars. The men fell away from her, and finally she was free. She lay there, panting, shaking. Then gentle arms were slipping under her and lifting her. She was carted to the pallet and laid down. Fingertips tenderly brushed her swollen
cheek. Nicolai’s face came into view. He was covered in blood, every part of him soaked with crimson.

Flames leaped and cracked within his eyes. “Rape?”

She gave a slight shake of her head.

Those flames died, leaving something far worse: cold, merciless rage. Then he was gone.

He attacked the guards first, those who had maneuvered back to their feet, ripping their tracheas out with his teeth and spitting them to the floor. But that wasn’t enough for him, and he used the dagger to remove their heads from their bodies. Bodies he piled in the entry, effectively locking the king inside the room with him.

The two men circled each other.

“Suffer,” Nicolai said, the length and sharpness of his fangs causing him to slur the words.

“Yes. You suffer.”

“She’s mine. Mine! You will die for touching what’s mine.”

The king blinked, his head tilting to the side. “You familiar. You vampire. You…prince?” A gasp of horror accompanied the realization. “Yes. You prince. Dark prince. Majesty, I beg sorry. I thought you dead. We all thought you dead.”

Nicolai, the slave, was a prince?

The king dropped to one knee, a show of submission. “I give my sorries. So many sorries. Majesty. No offense. Take woman. She is yours.”

Nothing Jane had done had humbled the king. Nothing had evoked fear in him. Now, at the thought of battling royalty, he was on his knees, pleading.

“You die,” Nicolai said simply. The king never stood a chance. Her man removed his limbs, one by one. And though the king screamed and screamed and screamed,
he didn’t once struggle. As if he knew struggling would earn him an even worse fate.

Next to go, his eyes. After that, his groin. At that point, his screams became pleas for mercy. Mercy Nicolai did not have. Oops, there went the king’s tongue. No more begging or screaming. Just whimpering.

“Nicolai,” Jane finally managed, her voice so weak even she had trouble hearing what she’d said. Fatigue was riding her hard, and she knew she wouldn’t be awake much longer.

Nicolai glanced at her, barely able to catch his breath. The need to hurt clung to him like a second skin, visible to all. Never had she seen a more primitive male, wild and uncontrollable, a Pict warrior straight from battle. A sight most people would only ever see in their nightmares.

“Need you,” she said.

“Yes.” He swung back to the dying king. With a quick flick of his wrist, he removed the man’s head, just as he’d done to the others. Then he was poised over Jane, stroking her gently. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry.”

“Will be…fine. Been…worse. Just need…you.”

The words were meant to comfort him. They failed. Absolute anguish cloaked his features. He wiped his arm on a nearby cloth, bit into his own wrist and held the bleeding wound to her mouth. “Drink.”

While Nicolai chanted words she did not understand, the warm liquid cascaded down her throat. At first, she experienced the most delicious tingling, starting in her stomach and moving through her veins. To her jaw, her arms, her legs. The tingling soon sharpened,
heated, and she felt as if little molten daggers were slicing through her.

What the hell was his blood doing to her?

“Nicolai,” she screeched. “Hurts.”

“You’re healing, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. The hurt is good.”

Even as he spoke, her jaw snapped back into place. She screamed, the shrill sound echoing off the cave walls. The lid of her swollen eye split apart, and she groaned. At first, her vision was hazy, as if her corneas had been smeared with Vaseline, but as the heat and the daggers continued to work through her, Windex was sprayed and she could see again. Perfectly.

When the healing process was complete, she lay there, still panting, sweating and trembling, but a woman reborn. She stretched her jaw, and while there was a lingering ache, she could move it unfettered.