Embrace the Wild (The Blood Rose Series Book 6) (2 page)

He flew after her, his three hundred years of living in Ashleaf Realm equal to her deft maneuvers. She sped over waterfalls and down streams and gullies, her nakedness a creamy flash in the night.

The whole time, the scent of her desire trailed after her, letting him know exactly what these encounters meant to her.

Yet he knew so damn little about the woman as she hit a path to the west that veered quickly to the south. Her strategy might change, but she always led him back to that enormous vine-shrouded arbor above the gate to her property. If he didn’t catch her, she’d disappear into the vines, dawn would come way too soon, and he’d have to leave yet again without capturing his prize.

On he sped, sometimes losing sight of her because she was so fast. Even as he reached a fork with several paths, he only had to sniff the air to know which route to take.

He ate up the few miles, sweating furiously in his Guardsmen leather coat despite it was sleeveless. But he wouldn’t have stopped for the world.

He reached for her telepathically, yet couldn’t connect because the woman could block him. Exactly how much power did this fae hold? Possibly more than even Alexandra the Bad, the leader of the Ashleaf Fae Guild.

As her gate loomed, he started closing in. She’d grown fatigued. Part of her energy was still focused elsewhere as he gave chase. He didn’t understand what she was concentrating on so heavily.

If only she’d just talk to him; he had so many questions.

He was within fifteen feet … ten … sweet Goddess, only three feet, but there was the damn vine-covered arbor and gate, the place she would disappear. If she reached it, he’d be unable to find her.

He reached out, put on some speed and his fingers trailed down her red hair, half-dry now from running.

But she ran straight into the vines and like at least three dozen times before, she simply vanished.

He flew over the gate to the other side, but he knew she wouldn’t be there. Was she really somewhere inside the vines? How was that even possible? Yet, she had to be because he could smell her and she was close.

“Willow, I must talk to you. I don’t mean you any harm. I promise you. Won’t you speak to me, just once?”

~ ~ ~

Hidden safely within the cocoon of the vines and her hands wrapped around two thick stems, Willow breathed hard.

Malik. Dear sweet Goddess. Malik.

His name was a mantra within her mind, something she called to over and over. But he never heard her. She would never let him hear her need, her desperation, her longing for him.

Did she want to speak to him, even just once?

Yes, yes, yes.

And he was so close; she could have touched him. Sweat poured down his face and he wiped it away with the sleeve of the woven shirt he wore, the traditional shirt of all Vampire Guardsmen.

“Willow, please.” His deep voice reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. “Give me a chance. There’s something here between us, something important, maybe even realm-based. But how can we figure this out, if you won’t even talk to me?”

The plaintive sound of his words clawed at her soul, but she closed her eyes and shored up her resistance to him. He didn’t know, couldn’t know, that she longed to give in, that she wanted more than anything to show herself and to tell him why she couldn’t open up to him.

But she was sworn to secrecy and couldn’t violate her vows. So many wraiths depended on her.

The minutes wore on and because dawn was so close, she knew he had to leave, had to return to his home in order to avoid the sun. Her situation wasn’t much different. As a fae, she needed to be inside during the daylight hours.

But if caught outside, she could hide herself in the vines, a sacred power she’d gleaned from the fae Protector before her.

If only she could share the truth with Malik, she could end this absurd chase through the forest with him. Yet, even as this thought ran through her head, she knew she didn’t want Malik to ever stop giving chase. She’d lived such a solitary life for decades that just having him near had added a layer of joy to her existence she never wanted to give up.

Almost two years ago now, she’d seen him on market day in Cherry Hollow, one of Ashleaf’s largest towns. She’d gone there cloaked with a fae charm so that anyone who saw her wouldn’t pay her the smallest attention. She went often to various towns and villages throughout Ashleaf to buy her food and other supplies, though hidden behind her spells.

But on this night, she’d seen Malik outside a tavern, standing with several of his Guardsmen across from a pen of goats for sale. They were each having a pint, relaxing. Confident that neither he nor his Guardsmen would be able to see through her charm, she allowed herself to watch Malik and his men. She’d enjoyed just listening to the occasional burst of male laughter.

Then Malik had laughed at something one of his lieutenants had said, and something inside Willow’s chest had started to ache. That smile had sent hooks deep into her heart, especially since she knew for a certainty that Malik rarely smiled, that a great sadness ruled his life. He was a thoroughly responsible ruler who took his job as seriously as she took her own. And he faced challenges within his realm that she honestly didn’t know how he bore as well as he did.

How long she’d stood like that just staring at him she didn’t know. But she took the time to memorize his strong cheekbones and thickly arched brows, his large, brown eyes. He looked like a man who could have starred in some of the Hollywood movies she liked to watch. He was that attractive.

She knew a lot about him as well, and about his constant effort to bring The Society under control.

When Malik had taken over as Mastyr of Ashleaf over two hundred years ago, he’d instituted a great number of laws meant to protect the half-breed population of the realm. But Mastyr Axton, who Malik had supplanted, was believed to have created The Society that same year. Despite the laws making it illegal to vilify, maim, or murder wraiths or half-breeds, The Society had set about the genocidal task in secret, year after year, working through the horribly effective method of small cells to kill the innocent.

Mastyr Axton was a nightmare no one had been able to get rid of legally. In public, he denounced The Society, but had a huge following because he wanted to restore the old ways. In other words, he wanted all wraiths and half-breeds dead without ever using those particular words.

Axton was the consummate hypocrite and liar.

Malik, on the other hand, had won her full support from the moment she learned that he’d been the one to make it a crime to hurt wraiths or their relatives.

But as she stood at the edge of the town of Cherry Hollow that night, longing for the man, Malik had suddenly shifted in her direction and met her gaze.

He’d seen through her charm!

No other mastyr in Ashleaf had ever been able to penetrate one of her spells, not even Axton, the second most powerful vampire in the realm.

She’d almost smiled and waved, until she recalled that she wasn’t a normal fae living a normal life in Ashleaf. She was the sole Protector of twenty-thousand souls, who lived in the center of the realm and depended on her for survival.

She’d turned away shortly after and drifted into the forest, her heart downcast, unaware that he’d followed her until he’d called out her name. “Willow. Is that you? Where have you been all these years?”

She’d glanced at him over her shoulder, her heart in her throat. But she couldn’t talk to him because the temptation to want more from him than she could possibly give in return would be too great. So she fled, using the power she’d gained over the years, to half-run, half-fly through the forest at a speed not even Malik could quite equal.

She just hadn’t expected him to give chase.

He’d almost caught her three times before she reached the safety of the vines at the entrance to her land.

Fortunately, his power had limits and he wasn’t able to penetrate the shield the vines created for her.

That night, two years ago, she’d cried herself to sleep, knowing what she was missing and unable to act on her simple desire to talk with him or even to wave at him.

Maybe it was the nature of the chase that had worked each of them up so thoroughly, but if so many people hadn’t depended on her for their sheer existence, she would have long since given herself, body and soul, to the Mastyr of Ashleaf Realm.

Now, as she held the vines and watched him leave, her heart ached all over again. She became aware of a heaviness in her chest that she seemed to carry with her all the time now, yet another indication just how much she desired him.

As he finally disappeared, taking off in flight in order to get home before dawn, Willow came back to herself. She needed to get it together and not let her protection of the wraith colony flag.

But at exactly that moment, she felt one of the most powerful wraiths within the colony calling to her telepathically. A sense of fear came through in a way that left Willow panicky.

Illiandra, what’s wrong?

A near-breach! Willow, have you not been attending? Your protective shield is under attack.

Now frightened that she might have imperiled so many lives, she released the vines and turned all her energy on the shield that protected the colony. That’s when she felt a very specific fae charm burning through the colony’s secret entrance.

She had to get over there right away.

Illiandra, apologies. I’m on it.

Illiandra was one of the oldest and wisest wraith leaders of the colony.
Keep me advised.

Willow flew swiftly the three miles to the tall, granite outcropping that had created a natural barrier to the colony. She could see smoke spiraling into the air.

A short tunnel, hidden behind a thick fall of vines, led through the granite wall straight into the wraith colony. A Guard-sized man stood directly opposite the entrance holding a charm in his hand made up of glowing purple crystals. As he aimed the charm toward the secret opening, the vines smoked and burned.

She knew who he was: Mastyr Axton.

Sweet Goddess, no.

But how had he made it past her property’s protective shield? He’d never done so before, which made Willow think that the same fae that had created the purple crystal charm must have helped him move past Willow’s spell.

She held her own disguise tight around her then simply melted into the vines. The moment she made direct contact with the thick stems and released her protection vibration, power surged.

At the same time, she aimed a strong burst at Axton’s charm. She wasn’t a powerful fae for nothing and the singular wave of energy that she released broke the charm’s spell. The glow of crystals fizzled, the burning stopped, and Axton cursed long and loud. He looked around as though astonished, then cursed once more.

Because dawn was so close, she wasn’t surprised that he simply took to the air and sped southwest high above the forest canopy.

She pathed to Illiandra.
Mastyr Axton somehow came into possession of a powerful, illegal charm. Some of the vines were destroyed, but as soon as I made contact, I repulsed his attempt. I’m rebuilding the vine-wall now.

Well, done.
Illiandra paused, then,
You’re unsettled though, aren’t you? Did Malik give chase again?

Yes.
She had shared her dilemma with Illiandra, but the wise woman had merely told her to do everything she could to remain strong for the colony.

You must end this, Willow. He’s distracting you from the shield. And if Axton has found the entrance to our lands, he’ll be back. We’re in trouble here, Willow, so please be strong for us. We depend on you.

I know.

The wraith colony was spread out over twenty square miles of land that belonged to Willow on paper. The sheer size of the shield she’d created and supported was one of the reasons she couldn’t get distracted. The population had doubled as well in the last forty years, which had made it increasingly difficult for Willow to keep streaming her protective energies.

Willow had fulfilled her duties for decades without too much difficulty. However, in recent years, she seemed to have reached some kind of personal limit. She’d tried repeatedly to tell Illiandra about her concerns, but the wraith had no other answer than to tell Willow ‘to be strong’.

Willow wouldn’t give up — never that — but she truly feared that something unexpected might happen and she would no longer be able to sustain the protective colony shield.

Illiandra, do you think it’s possible that Mastyr Axton knows about the colony?

Impossible,
Illiandra responded firmly.
My guess is that he’s found a fae willing to help him build charms in order to find wraith-sign. He no doubt stumbled upon the entrance by accident.

Willow wasn’t convinced, but she was tired from the chase and from repulsing Axton’s charm. And dawn was on her heels.

She bid Illiandra good-night and headed to her treehouse complex as swiftly as she could.

As she finally fell into bed, her last thought was simple: She had to talk to Malik and end their chasing ritual.

But Sweet Goddess, she didn’t want to. Not even a little.

~ ~ ~

“Mastyr, you’re hurting me.”

Malik heard the woman’s voice and somewhere within his mind he knew he needed to ease back on her wrist. Though a full day had passed since he’d last seen Willow, hungry images clouded his head as he once again mentally chased her through the forest. His mind got lost in the erotic images of the smooth, pale skin of her firm buttocks shifting back and forth along the trail, which had him fully aroused.

“Mastyr, you must stop. I’ll be bruised to my elbow.”

As he continued to suck on the rich vein, his donor’s words were a dull noise at the edge of the seductive memories, of needing to catch Willow, of wanting her beneath him, of hungering to pierce her neck and take down her life-force.

“Mastyr, please!” A hand shoved at his head until he finally awoke to his crime.

With a terrible jolt of remorse, he released the wrist of one of his sweetest
doneuses
from whom he’d been feeding. The lovely fae woman, with tears in her brown eyes, held her arm as if in pain.