The Nymph King (22 page)

Clang.
The vibration from metal against metal stung the wound in his arm. He moved with the impetus, though, and twisted, slicing his spear through the air and forcing Darius to duck. Without pause, Darius charged. Valerian blocked and lunged. Blocked. Stabbed.

“We could do this all day, for I am sure we will once again prove to be an even match,” Darius growled.

Valerian gouged his spear at a downward angle, hoping to slice into Darius's other thigh. If he could hobble the dragon, making him rely only on his wings, Valerian could gain the advantage. But Darius jolted up and down quickly, placing the wooden length of the spear under his foot and snapping the weapon in two.

Immediately Valerian slid The Skull from its scabbard on the inside of his shield. He ran two steps, jumped and cut downward. This time Darius did not move quickly enough and the blade sliced into his arm.

Once again the dragons hissed, and once again Darius gave no reaction. It was as if he was impervious to pain. Unfortunately, Valerian was not. His wounded arm throbbed and his legs were growing shaky. If the fight didn't end soon…

Distantly he heard his men cheering for him.

“For Shaye,” Broderick shouted. “Shaye. Shaye. Shaye.”

Her lovely face flashed before his mind, and he gathered his strength. Rallied himself. He'd been pushed to the brink before. There had been times he'd gone without food and water, his people without a home. He could prevail. Perhaps he should change his battle strategy. Instead of forcing Darius to fly, perhaps he should cut into Darius's wings, grounding him….

The dragon king suddenly slammed into him, knocking him down, hacking his chest armor. He tasted dirt in his mouth, felt warm blood ooze, and kicked backward. Darius soared over him, taking Valerian's shield with him. Valerian didn't bother rising to his feet this time. He spied Darius from the corner of his eye and simply shot out his sword.

It stabbed into Darius's side, between arm and rib.

There was a collective gasp from the dragons, as if they couldn't believe it had happened. There was a cheer from the nymphs. Then Darius hit the sword with his own, proving it had slid through air, not flesh. Valerian anchored his feet and leapt up. He swung behind him.
Clang.
Quickly he pivoted, swinging again.
Clang.

“Shall we do this all day or will you finally leave the palace?” Darius said, his tone a bit hollow. He spoke between hits.

Clang.
“I'd really rather kill you now,” Valerian answered, “if it's all the same to you.”

“I will let you keep the women.”
Clang.

“And how will we shelter them without the palace?” He drew in a deep breath—and noticed the scents of blood and death had suddenly thickened the air.

“Vampires,” a dragon hissed.

The word echoed through the crowd. A curse to dragons, a blessing to nymphs. No one warred more fiercely with the vampires than the dragons.

Darius stilled. Valerian did the same. He could see that the vampires were interspersed with the contingent of men he'd sent to close in the rear.

“You tricked me,” Darius snarled. “This was not to be a fair fight, after all. You dared bring the vampires here to aid you.”

“I didn't ask them to come, but I certainly won't send them away. They are my allies. We can finish this fight here and now, you and me.”

“As if I will trust the vampires not to attack me while I'm distracted. We will leave now, Valerian, but we are not finished with you and yours.”

As he spoke, the black-clad vampires closed in. They floated rather than walked, and they were hurling curses at the dragons. The dragons in turn mutated into their bestial forms. Wings sprouted from their backs, ripping every piece of their clothing. Scales consumed their skin, green and black and menacing. Fangs grew in place of their teeth. Tails sprouted from their lower backs.

They didn't engage the vampires or nymphs in any way. No, they sprang into the sky, moving higher and higher, before disappearing from Valerian's line of vision.

They would be back, Valerian knew, and the fight would not be as mild as it had been today. It would not be a battle between two men, but a bloodbath between races.

 

L
AYEL
, K
ING OF THE
V
AMPIRES
, and his army came to an abrupt stop on the field. Seeing the dragons had disappeared, he and his army gave a cheer.

“Good to see you again, my friend,” Valerian said when the cheers died down.

“I heard the dragons were marching toward you and decided to help.”

Valerian clasped him on the shoulder. “Last time I saw you, you were holding court with the demon queen.” He had not forgiven those hideous creatures for what they'd done to his people. “Do you ally yourself with her still?”

Layel smiled slowly. He had white hair, though it wasn't as pale as Shaye's. Ice-blue eyes, strong, mystical features. “I never allied myself with her. I used her, and then I killed her.”

Valerian returned the grin. “Then you and yours are welcome inside.”

“My king,” a female vampire said, approaching Layel's side. She had the same pale shade of hair as Layel, the same blue eyes, except her features were soft, eerily beautiful.

Usually Layel did not allow his females near the nymphs.

“Alyssa,” the king acknowledged.

“Do we have your permission to…dally?” Her gaze was locked on Shivawn, and there was lust in her eyes.

Ah. Valerian suddenly understood why she'd been
allowed to come. She wanted Shivawn and had probably asked to join the army just to see him.

Layel looked to Valerian. Valerian, of course, nodded his permission. The woman, Alyssa, grinned seductively and floated to Shivawn.

“Come,” Valerian said. He turned on his heel and strode to the palace, taking the dragon medallion from under his shirt and holding it up so the door sensor would allow the entrance to open.

Layel kept pace beside him, the others closing in behind them.

“Did you ever find the Jewel of Dunamis?” Valerian asked him. They entered the main hall. “I know you were on a crusade to unearth it, yet Darius told me a human now has possession.”

“Alas, it escaped me. It escaped all of us, really.”

“On the surface, as Darius said?”

“Yes.”

“Any way to get it back?”

“None, I'm afraid.”

Perhaps he could travel to the surface and search for it, Valerian thought suddenly, for it might be the best way to protect Shaye. He would ponder that later. For now, he had a reprieve from battle. He was weak and tired and needed his mate.

“Broderick,” he called, “see that guards are stationed around the entire palace, top and bottom, inside and out.”

“My men can help,” Layel offered.

“You are guests. You will enjoy. Dorian, see to our guests' comfort.”

Layel's brows arched. “You are not remaining with us?”

“No. There is a woman I must see to.”

His friend grinned, though sadness clung to the edges. He'd lost his love years ago. “I understand. Go. Be on your way. We will be fine without you.”

Valerian needed no further urging. He strode down the rest of the hall. His hands itched for Shaye. Finally he would make her his. Completely.

S
HAYE KEPT HER BACK
pressed against the far wall of the enclosure, as far away as she could get from the prisoners. She didn't want to accidentally release them. They begged and pleaded relentlessly, and she tried to distract herself by composing anti-cards. Well, not really
anti.
All her ideas were for a new, not-so-anti collection. Things like,
“I'd like to spend more time with you.”
And,
“Being with you isn't so bad.”

“Let us out!” one of the prisoners said, cutting into her thoughts.

Beasts,
Valerian had once called them.
Killers.

They didn't look like killers. They looked like handsome men who were tinted blue from cold. Well, not
men
so much. They looked like little more than boys.

“Be careful,” she told Brenna.

“Who are they?” her friend asked, a tinge of fear in her voice.

“I don't exactly know.”

“Please,” the youngest beseeched. “My name is Kendrick. Let us go. We will not hurt you. We would never hurt a woman. Perhaps we can help each other,” he rushed on. “I will help free you from the nymphs' spell, and you can let me go. Just touch the bars.”

Whether she believed him or not was moot. These boys despised the nymphs. When Kendrick had said the word, he'd sneered with absolute hatred. Because of that, they would remain here. Valerian's safety came first. “Why were you imprisoned?” she asked.

“Because we are dragons. Because this is
our
palace and the nymphs coveted it for their own.”

As she'd suspected. Still. “Sorry, boys,” she said. She did feel sorry for them. “I can't. However, I will speak to Valerian about setting you free in the wild or something.”

They looked to Brenna.

She bit her lip and shook her head no.

“Don't you see?” The most handsome of the group gripped the bars, gazing at them with piercing gold eyes. “You're under Valerian's spell. Fight it or you'll remain his slave for eternity.”

Under Valerian's spell…how true those words were. She hadn't been herself since she'd first laid eyes on him. Was it the general allure of the nymph, though, or Valerian the man that enchanted her? She suspected the latter, because none of the other men appealed to her.

“Even still.” She squared her shoulders, determined. “I'm leaving you in here. And I feel really bad about that, but—”

“You look like you feel bad,” Kendrick said dryly. “Your eyes are sparkling.”

The thought of seeing Valerian again did that to her. “Hey.” She blinked as a thought occurred to her. “You're speaking English.
My
language.”

He shrugged, as if the observation had no importance. “Our king wed a human.”

She blinked in surprise. “So there are more humans in the city? How—”

“Where is she?” she heard a man shout. There was terror and fury in his tone.

Valerian.

Her heart kicked into overtime, beating like a silly drum. Heat infused her cells. “Gotta go,” she told the boys. “I won't forget you, I promise, and I'll even talk to Valerian about you. Come on, Brenna.”

“Shaye!” Valerian shouted, his voice frantic. “Shaye!”

“Don't leave us,” Kendrick pleaded. “Fight against his allure.”

She gave him a pinky wave and raced from the enclosure, Brenna right behind her. When they emerged from between the rocks, they rounded the corner and stepped directly behind the portal. She heard another, “Shaye,” this one more panicked than before.

“I'll return as soon as possible,” he said to someone.

He was about to step into the portal, she realized. “I'm here, Valerian. I'm here.”

He whipped to face her, reaching out automatically to grab her arm. He tugged her to him, and their gazes locked. Shadows of relief couched his features…followed quickly by fury. He released her and braced his arms over his chest, and it was then she saw what he was holding. She almost cried. He was holding an orange.

A lump filled her throat. He'd found it for her. She had mentioned that she wanted one, and in the midst of war he'd found one.

Her knees shook. Her nerve endings sizzled as she took it from him. “Thank you,” she said softly. She drank him in.

His hair was sweat soaked and hanging in sand-coated tangles at his temples. Streaks of blood covered his face and arms, and his turquoise eyes shot sparks at her. Of fury, yes, but also of lust.

She nearly dropped the orange as she noticed the rest of him. A deep gash branded his chest. “You're hurt,” she said stupidly.

“I am fine. How did you escape the cell?” The question was uttered in a still, quiet voice, so much more ominous than if he'd shouted. “And I see you took Brenna with you.”

Shaye, too, assumed a battle stance. If he wasn't worried about the wound, she wouldn't be, either. “Leave her out of this. I got out with a little thing called ingenuity.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “How long have you been free?”

“Long enough to go through the portal.”

His expression relaxed in gradual degrees. “But you didn't.”

“But I didn't.” Why were they talking? She wanted his tongue on her. She wanted, finally, to know the most erotic place on her body, and she wanted him to bring her to shuddering climax. Twice. She wanted to drip orange on his skin and lick it up.

Behind her, Dylan and Terran ushered the rest of the women from the cell. “Take this one, as well,” Valerian said, motioning to Brenna.

“No,” Brenna said. “No touching.”

“Take her, but do not touch her,” Valerian allowed.

Brenna walked willingly to the group.

Kathleen spotted Shaye and frowned. “I thought you were going to escape.”

“Didn't work out,” she said, fighting the urge to hang a sign around Valerian's neck that said
Mine.
She faced him. “Listen. I was chatting with the dragons and—” She pressed her mouth together. Maybe that wasn't a good thing to admit.

Valerian's nostrils flared. “I put you in that cell to protect you. Not only do you escape, you visit my enemies, too.”

Shaye drew herself to her full height. “That's right. So? I will not tolerate being locked away. I told you that. Where's my thanks for staying down here when I could have gone back to the surface?”

“Your thanks?
Your thanks?
” He pounded a fist into his open palm. “Did the dragons hurt you? Did they touch you in any way?”

“No. And since we're on the subject, I think you should let them go. They're just boys, Valerian.”

He smoothed a hand down his face. “They are dragons, Shaye.”

“So give them back to the rest of the dragons.”

“That is my plan,” he said, throwing his arms in the air. “They will make excellent bargaining tools.”

“Good.”

“Good.” He shook his head. “While I like that you are stepping into the role of queen, advising me and issuing orders, you are in dire need of punishment, woman.”

His words elicited an erotic response from her. That wasn't what he intended, but that was what he got. Her eyes lowered to half-mast. “Punish me, then. Go ahead, for God's sake. You know how much I hate it.”

Instant fire consumed his anger, leaving only white-hot lust. “You hate it? Truly?”

“More than I can ever say,” she whispered. Her stomach clenched deliciously, swirling and fluttering with need. It was as if he'd never stopped making love to her. All of her desires returned full force.

She, the woman who prided herself on remaining distant from every situation, couldn't fight Valerian's allure. She, who found comfort in a frosty, utterly cold attitude, quaked with sensation. Was desperate. Needy. Raw and exposed. There was a vulnerability inside her she hadn't known was there, one that cried out for the love and affection she'd never received. Not from anyone.

Except this man.

Slowly, never breaking eye contact, he closed the small gap between them. The closer he came, the hotter the air grew, chasing away any hint of chill. Her nipples beaded painfully, reaching for him, yearning for some type of contact.

“I won't stop this time,” he warned. “Not for any reason.”

“Good. We agree about something else.”
Touch me.
She didn't care that people were just beyond the rock. She only cared about Valerian.

“Run,” he said softly.

She blinked, certain she had misheard him. “What?” Was he turning her away?

“Run. To my room. Now.”

There was no humor in his tone, no sense that he was through with her. Instead, he projected a fierce lust that went beyond anything he'd ever shown her before. The breath in her throat snagged. She backed away from him, her heart skipping a beat. His expression was intense, savage. Utterly wild.

“Run,” he repeated. “Now.”

Clutching the orange, she sprang forward, racing around him, careful not to touch him. Her arms pumped at her sides as she pounded up the stairs. Footsteps echoed behind her. She remembered the path to the room and whipped around corners. Warriors roamed the halls, collecting their bed partners. Some hadn't made it to a room and were having sex right there in the hall.

Panting, she barreled past them. Thankfully no one tried to stop her. Valerian's intensity was frightening. And arousing. And startling. And wonderful.

When she reached the outer bathing area, she picked up speed. What was he going to do to her when he caught her? She shot past the white curtain separating the two sections of the room, and it whooshed behind her. A split second later, it whooshed again.

Valerian. Close, so close.

She gulped, was just about to spin around and demand he explain why he'd not picked her up and carried her here, why he'd not let her wrap her legs around his waist and feel every step he took between her legs, when he slammed into her from behind. Together they soared through the air. She screamed, dropped her fruit. Just before she hit the bed, Valerian turned them, absorbing the impact with his own body.

One of his arms flipped her over and banded around her waist. The other pulled at her shirt, stripping her.

“Why…why?” she panted, unable to get any other word out.

“Couldn't wait.” Her breasts were suddenly bared. He held her above him and laved one of her nipples into
his mouth. Pure heat. She sucked in a gasp of air. Somewhere along the way, he'd lost his chest armor. Her hands kneaded him, mindful of his injuries. His nipples were hard and abraded her palms erotically; his nipple ring was cool to the touch yet burned her with its masculinity.

She straddled his waist, anchoring her weight on her knees. This was exactly where she belonged, she mused. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders. Adrenaline from the chase rushed through her blood, blending with desire, making it all the more potent. All the more consuming. Her skin felt alive with pulses of electricity.

He untied the belt holding her pants in place and flung it aside, causing the pants to gape open. He paused a moment, staring at her with purpose.

“I'm going to kiss you here,” he muttered roughly. His fingertip grazed a path along the center of her panties. “Then I'm going to pleasure your body the way I've wanted from the moment I saw you.”

“Yes.” She loved his raw language, was excited by it. “Pleasure. Do it.”

“Nothing will stop me.”

“Nothing.” She arched her hips slightly forward, sliding over the hard length of his erection. Sensations of utter bliss tore through her, and she moaned.

“You'll love everything I do.” His hand clenched on her waist. His eyes closed, and he bit his lower lip. “You'll beg for more.”

She slid over him again. They both groaned. “Love it,” she promised. “Beg.”

He rolled her over, jerking at her pants while he did so. His feet kicked the material the rest of the way down. Her panties quickly followed, yet he didn't have
the patience to work them off her so he ripped the seams and discarded the tattered remains.

Completely naked, she reached between them and worked at
his
pants. Her motions were clipped, eager, desperate, but she made no progress. “I can't get them off,” she growled. “Help me get them off.”

Within seconds he had them peeled away and she was in heaven. Hmm. Skin to skin.

“Soft,” he praised. He traced a path along her collarbone, then nipped at her neck, grazing her overly sensitive flesh with his teeth.

She could feel his penis on her belly, as hot as a steel band. She arched against it, needing it inside her. “Now,” she said.

His shaft jerked against her. His teeth bit more sharply. “Kiss,” he said hoarsely. He licked down her body, exploring her breasts again, lingering at her stomach, flicking her belly button.

“Grip the top of the bed,” he demanded.

She'd been reaching down, intent on threading her fingers through his hair. “But—”

“Do it. Grip the bed.”

She obeyed. The moment her fingers curled around the ivory base, his tongue glided over her clitoris. Her hips shot up, and she gasped his name.

With one of his hands, he opened her fully. With the other he glided a finger into her, probing, stretching. His tongue never stopped working her. The combination of sensations was shattering. Another coast of his tongue. A pump of his fingers. Then he sucked at her, increasing the tempo. She cried. She sobbed. Oh, the bliss. Her legs locked around him. Her hands
clutched the headboard so tightly her knuckles could have snapped.

Her eyelids squeezed shut. In her mind she saw him between her legs, his tawny hair falling onto her thighs. His muscled back clenched tight as he reined in his own need.

“Valerian! I can't take any more.”

“By the end of the night, you'll have taken everything I have to give.”