Crimson Covenant Page 12

  I smoothed my fingers over the wrist at my throat, my eyes flared wide as I searched his, as I waited for recognition to hit him.

  One heartbeat.

  Then two.

  “Lyric?” His voice was like gravel as he tilted his head.

  I nodded, my heart thumping against my chest, my body arching into his. Despite his hold, despite the power coiling around his body, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. Knew it like I knew how to breathe.

  “Lyric,” he sighed my name this time, drawing his hand back but not shifting off of me. “What are you doing here?”

  “You need me,” I said, my voice a whisper as I smoothed my fingers over the muscles in his arms, down his back, and up again. He shivered under my touch. “I’m here.”

  “Lyric, I could hurt you—”

  “Stop,” I demanded, shaking my head. I arched beneath him, feeling his desire for me through the flimsy silk of the robe. “Stop staying away from me. Stop saying you’ll hurt me. I know you won’t. And I can’t stand the fact that you’re in pain. It stings every inch of me. Please,” I said, hooking my leg over his hip.

  Alek hissed, his fangs descending in a blink. I reached up with my free hand, rubbing the tip of my finger over one. So sharp, strong. He closed his eyes, arching his head back as he pressed his hips between my legs.

  “What in all of Hell are you wearing?” he growled, opening his eyes to scan the length of me. I smiled up at him, at the way his body relaxed against my touch. He shifted all his weight to one arm, freeing his hand to explore. With a few strokes, he’d untied the robe, allowing it to fall open to reveal my silk shorts and tank top. “Goddamnit, Lyric,” he groaned.

  “What?” I asked, breathless as he touched me with the lightest of pressures.

  “You look like dessert,” he said.

  “As long as I’m your dessert—”

  “Mine,” he cut me off, pressing harder against me. I gasped, rolling my hips, needing more of that pressure.

  “Yours,” I sighed, my head whirling, my heart racing.

  The word unleashed something in him because one second he held so still I wanted to scream at him and the next? He crushed his lips on mine, parting my lips with his tongue. He tasted dark and sweet and hot, and I moaned at the feel of his tongue on mine. Careful of the fangs, I flicked my tongue along the edges of his teeth, teasing him just as he teased me. He snaked one arm beneath my back, hefting me upward, situating his hard cock against my center. I could feel the heat of him through the shorts, and I hated the thin fabric barrier between us.

  “Alek,” I moaned between his lips, rocking against him, begging him with my body to put me out of my misery. “Please,” I sighed, nipping at his bottom lip.

  He smirked against my mouth, slipping his free hand between us, diving beneath the hem of my shorts. “Fuck,” he hissed when he found I wore nothing beneath them. His fingers were strong as he slid them through me, and was instantly drenched with my need. “You’re soaked for me,” he said, teasing my clit with light flicks.

  I rocked upward, needing more pressure, more of him. He slid through my folds, rubbing up and down, slipping in and out for seconds at a time. Winding me up so tight I was certain I’d shatter.

  “Alek,” I practically growled, digging my nails into his bare back. He hissed, and I saw the hunger in his eyes as he plunged in one finger, then two. I arched into his touch, needing him to fill me in every way possible. I moved on his hand, seeking out that release that he controlled. Body, mind, soul, this man had possessed me completely. I could feel him in every cell in my body, hungered for him in every inch of my soul.

  And I made sure that shone through my eyes as I locked with his, and turned my head to the side, exposing my neck.

  He growled, pausing his torture of me, stilling so completely I whimpered.

  “Feed,” I demanded, begged. “Now,” I said, and rocked on his hand for emphasis. I wanted to take care of him just as much as he cared for me. Wanted to give him this, the one true value I had to offer him.

  “Lyric,” he groaned, lowering his lips to my exposed neck. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered against my skin. He pumped his fingers inside me, harder, faster, finding that spot deep inside and curling his fingers against it. And just when I was coiled as tight as I could possibly be, just as I couldn’t breathe from wanting this man, needing this man—

  He sank his fangs into the soft flesh of my neck.

  And I screamed.

  Moaned.

  Shattered as I burst into a thousand pieces beneath him.

  My entire body sparked and ignited, shimmered and sighed a gasp of pure release as electricity barreled down my spine.

  I shuddered, warmth cascading over my skin as he sucked and drank from me, as my orgasm shivered and shook. And when he drew his head back, his lips stained with my blood, I nearly came again at the sight. At the primal claiming written in the depths of his eyes.

  He lapped his tongue along the tiny puncture wounds, sealing the holes with one stroke.

  I reached for him, pumping his hard cock in my hands, shifting beneath him to get him right where I needed him—

  “Lyric,” he groaned, shaking his head and pulling away just out of my reach.

  I whimpered again. “Don’t you want to—”

  “More than anything,” he cut me off, scooting to the opposite side of the bed.

  I gaped at his retreat.

  “I told you,” he said, smiling a rare smile I’m sure few people ever saw. “I need to marry you first,” he said, trailing one finger along the edge of my arm and down. I trembled under that touch.

  “Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” I asked, turning on my side to face him. “I keep having all the fun while you’re left wanting—”

  “You give me everything, Lyric,” he said, shaking his head. “Watching you come? Making you shatter?” He licked his lips. “I’d be content doing that for the rest of forever.”

  “But what if I want to take care of you?”

  “You fed me,” he said.

  “More than that,” I said, my heart still racing. God, I wanted him on a level I never knew possible. I wanted him to feel as undone as me. Wanted to unravel him the way he did me. Wanted to drive him mad in the same way.

  “Then you know what you have to do,” he said, his voice all tease.

  The breath in my lungs tightened. My heart rate soared. I knew in my bones what I needed to do to be complete, to feel the last piece of my soul click into place. I knew it but couldn’t wrap my mind around it at the same time.

  “Fine,” I sighed, smacking my hand against my hip. “I’ll marry you,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s not like vampire-human marriages are recognized by the state—”

  “You’ll marry me?” Alek asked, and the vulnerability in his voice took all the levity right out of me. Why wouldn’t I want to marry him? This strong, incredible man who had saved my life in more ways than one? Who demonstrated compassion to his sister, his people, when he could rule with fear alone? Who wouldn’t want to spend whatever time they had left with him on this earth? The doubt in his eyes made me wonder just what horrors and judgment he’d been subjected to over his long lifetime, and the need to soothe those hurts? It was overwhelming to the point of pain.

  I scooted across the bed, tucking up against his chest, never losing his gaze as I laid my palm over his cheek. “Yes, Alek,” I said, ensuring he heard the clarity in my tone. “I would be honored to spend the rest of my forever with you.”

  9

  Alek

  The members of Conclave stared at me with wide eyes, and in the case of Patrick—the leader of the Human Consortium—a slackened jaw. The chamber beneath the opera house had fallen quiet enough to hear the Witch Queen, Genevieve, swallow.

  Lachlan tensed at the left side of my chair while Benedict slowly surveyed the room at my right, his forearms bare and waiting for the first lie.

  “Let me get this right.” Lu
ka leaned forward slightly, as did his two werewolf attendants. Surprisingly, he didn’t break the arms of the chair with his mass. “You have mated with a human?”

  “I have. We marry tonight, but I knew you needed to be informed first, so there was no confusion that Lyric carries my immunity from…” My gaze shifted to Xavier, who sat lounged in his chair as though this was all beneath him. “Any other claim.”

  “You’re marrying her tonight?” Genevieve’s eyebrows rose slightly, but that was the only sign of surprise she’d ever show.

  “In a matter of hours.” It would have been yesterday if Avi hadn’t thrown a fit about a piece of clothing, but I could hardly argue with my sister over Lyric’s dress. I would have married the woman in a pair of jeans, but apparently, that was out of the question.

  “And we’re not invited?” A corner of Xavier’s mouth lifted into a smirk, but there was nothing welcoming in those sharp eyes.

  “Are you going to dispute her immunity?” I asked slowly. Every muscle in my body stilled, waiting for his response.

  “Are you willing to give up your crown and submit to your sister’s judgment?” he countered. “Inter-species unions are forbidden.”

  “She’s human. That law doesn’t apply.” I shifted subtly, readying my body for attack. “She was interviewed by the Consortium yesterday, and they found no coercion.”

  “She’s more than willing,” Patrick agreed, nodding his head.

  “He’s not lying,” Benedict whispered so softly only Lachlan and I could hear.

  “And besides,” I leaned forward slightly. “This isn’t a union. It’s a mating, and a law unto itself. The bond will not be denied.”

  Luka grunted.

  Xavier studied me carefully as intense seconds clicked by. Finally, he shrugged. “Fine. The demons recognize her immunity and will not claim our right to her life.”

  Everyone in the room sighed with relief—everyone but me because I knew the other shoe would drop at any second.

  “But you owe me a favor, Vampire.” Fire flashed in the depths of his eyes. “A favor to be named at a later time.”

  “It is done.” I nodded once. He could have whatever he wanted—including my very life—if it meant sparing Lyric.

  Lachlan muttered a curse under his breath.

  “Since we’ve already heard this month’s cases, I hereby adjourn this Conclave.” I stood, buttoning my suit coat, and the others followed. There was no waiting to exchange the usual pleasantries that kept up friendly relations between the species—I had a wedding to get to.

  “Just wait right here.” Avianna gestured toward the wall outside her bedroom. I rolled my eyes but obliged her, my shoulder brushing up against the thick door frame.

  “This is ridiculous.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Human traditions of not seeing the bride before the wedding are superstitious nonsense.”

  “Well, you’re the one marrying a human, so…” Avi lifted her shoulders and scrunched her nose, already dressed for the ceremony which was supposed to begin in fifteen—scratch that—thirteen minutes.

  I let my glare speak for itself.

  “I’ll just go get your bride.” She lifted a gloved hand in mock salute and opened her bedroom door, disappearing inside…which was exactly where I wanted to be.

  Fuck. I leaned my head back against the wall and nearly groaned. I could smell Lyric from here. After tonight I wouldn’t have to keep my distance.

  “Alek?” Lyric’s voice came through the doorway, and I felt a small thud against the wall that let me know she’d mirrored my position on the other side.

  “You getting cold toes?” I asked.

  “Feet,” she corrected me with a small laugh. “And no. I just wanted to ask you a question.”

  The tension in her voice put me on high alert. “What is it?”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Her voice broke on that last word, and my head snapped to the right, toward the open door.

  You can’t go in there. If you respect her, you have to respect her traditions.

  “Of course, I’m sure. I don’t do anything I don’t want to. Now tell me what’s going on in your head, Lyric.” Four centuries in this world, and my self-control was about to be broken in half by that little hiccup I heard her make.

  “But…I’m human, and Avi told me humans can’t be turned,” she whispered.

  I cursed under my breath. Avianna and Lyric’s friendship had been a blessing, but I’d been sorely neglectful when it came to educating Lyric on our species. Then again, when I was alone with her the last thing on my mind was a history lesson.

  “Alek?”

  “That’s true,” I admitted. “Humans can’t be turned. Werewolves and demons are the only species who begin as something else. Vampires and witches are born, not made. We’re genetic.” Which meant it would be up to Avi to continue our family’s line.

  “And you still want this? Still want to marry me? If we can’t be turned, what about kids?”

  “Pregnancies between humans and vampires are incredibly rare, but not unheard of.”

  “I’m going to get old and wrinkled and fall apart. I’ll forget where the house keys are.” She sniffed.

  My heart lurched, but I kept my feet firmly planted where they were. “Lyric, vampires can age if they choose to. I’ve already decided that I will get old right alongside you. I’ll wrinkle as you wrinkle. We’ll have Serge to handle the house keys since it’s not like he lets us open doors, anyway, and when you fall apart, I’ll fall apart with you. You’re all I—”

  She flew through the doorway and into my arms.

  I caught her easily and crushed her against my chest, careful to keep my hands on the nape of her neck and around her waist so I didn’t undo her hair. “What happened to not seeing the bride on the wedding night?” I took her scent into my lungs and held it there, savoring the burn of thirst and the jolt of need that shot down my spine.

  “Maybe that only applies to wedding days,” she answered. “Besides, there’s not much traditional about this, so I’ll take my chances.”

  I trailed my hand over the soft silk of her waist—Wait a second.

  She wasn’t wearing the traditional white of a human wedding. Her gown fell off her shoulders, leaving that soft skin exposed, then dipped between her breasts, hugged the curve of her waist, then fell to the floor in a voluminous cascade of silk. Crimson silk. The color of blood, of life, and love.

  “Do you like it?” she asked, stepping back so I could see the whole picture. “Avi told me it was tradition to wear red. Well, crimson.”

  She was completely and utterly breathtaking.

  She was mine.

  “I like it,” I managed to say, moving forward without thinking. Fuck me, was that a slit at the front of her right leg? We weren’t going to make it to the wedding. We weren’t even going to make it to the bedroom.

  She stepped back and put her hand out. “Oh no. Don’t you look at me like that. It took Avianna and a team of other women—”

  “Females,” I corrected her gently. “Vampires aren’t women. They’re females.” My smile was slow, but I couldn’t keep it in. “We might need to go over a few things since you’ll be their queen in about five minutes.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What if I get it wrong?”

  I took her hand. “The ceremony is easy. Just repeat after me.” My thumb stroked over her mating mark. “You ready?”

  She nodded, and I walked her to the ceremony before we skipped the whole damn thing all together.

  A few moments later, the ballroom was packed to the brim with nobles and aristocrats, but all I saw was Lyric as she stood across from me, her hands in mine, exchanging the sacred words that would make our mating a legal one in our world.

  “I am yours, and you are mine,” I finished loudly enough for the nobles in the back to hear. No one would doubt the legitimacy of this mating. My thumb grazed over the emerald solitaire on her left hand. Some traditions belon
ged to all species.

  “I am yours, and you are mine,” she responded, diamonds and rubies sparkling where they’d been pinned into her hair, which had been swept up into some kind of twisty knot.

  I gently turned her wrist to face the crowd. “Who will bear witness to the mark?”

  “I will,” Avi stated, stepping forward from the front row and walking past the line of my warriors that stood at the base of the small steps that led to our dais.

  “I will.” Lachlan joined her and walked up the steps.

  One female and one male.

  They both glanced at Lyric’s wrist, then turned to face the crowd. “She bears his mark,” Avianna declared.

  “They are mated,” Lachlan finished the ceremony, both returning to their places.

  My chest swelled yet somehow tightened at the same time. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. I pulled her against me, then kissed her hard and deep, uncaring that we were in a room full of people. Let them all see that it was my mark on her wrist. My hands on her body. My scent enveloping her.

  By the time I lifted my head, we were both dazed, and the room was pin-drop silent. I looked deep into her emerald eyes, then turned us outward to face the crowd.

  “Your queen!”

  The Assassins dropped to a knee and bowed their heads in one singular motion.

  Then the crowd followed suit.

  “Whoa,” Lyric whispered.

  I nodded slowly in approval. They’d all borne witness and now pledged their allegiance. It was done. She was mine.

  We lasted two hours, sixteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds at the god-awful fealty ceremony that humans called a reception. When Lyric smiled over at me from across the ballroom, her skin luminous against the crimson silk and her scent flaring with the bloom of happiness…and arousal, I decided we’d spent quite enough time in the company of others.

  The crowd of black-tie nobles parted as I made my way to where Lyric stood with Ransom and Avi. Even Hawke had put on a tux, though he’d refused the tie and left the top button open.

  I only paused as I reached her, lifting her against my chest and securing my arm under her knees before striding out of the room. There. Now I could breathe again.