Lord of the Vampires (Royal House of Shadows #1)(98)
Author: Gena Showalter

Nola gasped in shock. What…why…how was it possible? She could be touched now.

“I will not go easy on you,” Amelia snarled at her.

They can touch me. Which means they can hurt me, Nola realized, dread sweeping through her.

Would she be alive when Zane returned?

ZANE REACHED THE VAMPIRE stronghold and collapsed at its gates. His strength—gone. His wounds—unhealed. Followed as he’d been, he hadn’t been able to hunt for food. Broken as he was, he wouldn’t have been able to capture a single animal and feed himself.

Thankfully the guards recognized him. He was hefted over a shoulder and carted inside the palace. The touch disturbed him, but he didn’t fight it. He was in too much of a hurry and knew this was the best way. By the time they reached his personal chamber, there was a buzz of activity, his name being whispered from everyone’s lips.

“Blood,” he rasped as the guard lay him down on the bed.

That guard tilted his head, offering his own neck.

Zane shook his head and closed his eyes. “Glass.” He would not take from a living source. Still couldn’t stomach the thought—unless that living source was Nola. Once, when he’d ensured she would welcome him by invading her dreams, he had tasted her. The sweetness of her blood…the decadence of her moans…he’d reveled in every nuance of her. He would not overshadow that precious memory by taking from someone else, even in his desperation.

How did she affect him this way?

Would he always be forced to wonder?

Perhaps he did not mind her hands on him because he saw himself in her eyes. Every damned time he looked at her. He saw vulnerability and pain, fear and yearning.

Perhaps they shared a similar past; she’d alluded to such a thing once before, when they’d been pitted against each other on the island. Back then, he had been too wrapped in his newfound desire to pay much attention to her words. Never again, he vowed. What she said came first. Always. As did protecting her, defending her.

And maybe she would feel the same about him.

He suddenly wanted to hug her close and tell her everything that had happened to him. Admit that he’d once been the demon queen’s willing sexual toy. She might…she might understand rather than run.

Demon whore.

How could anyone understand?

But for once, the taunt did not drive him to distraction. She might, and for now, that was enough.

Warm hands settled on his shoulders and shook him.

His eyelids fluttered open, a growl in his throat. When he saw that Layel loomed above him, glass in hand, he forced himself to relax against the feathered mattress. “My king, I—”

“No talking just yet. Drink,” Layel said, placing the glass to his lips. Tall and leanly muscled, with white hair and blue eyes, he was an eerily beautiful sight that reminded Zane of both his rescue from the demon queen and the horrors he’d later endured at the hands of the gods. “Drink.”

Zane opened his mouth, and the sweet nectar of life poured down his throat. He swallowed greedily. Once again, warmth spread through him. Warmth and strength and determination.

He had not lied to Nola. He was going back for her. He would conquer that damn camp and everyone inside it.

Nola will not like that. Those women are her sisters.

Well, they damn well should not have tried to enslave him, he thought darkly. But he knew deep down that he wouldn’t hurt them. Not really. For Nola, he would simply send them on their way, claiming the camp as his own and remaining there until she could leave it. And if she could never leave it, he would never leave it.

“Good now?” Layel asked.

“More,” he said when the supply ran out. He’d need every ounce of his strength to conquer the Amazons.

Layel cut his wrist, filled the glass with his own life force, and offered it up. This time, Zane was able to hold the glass on his own. Again, he drained every drop. When he finished, he licked his lips and faced the king.

“I am ready to talk,” he said.

“Good. I have questions.”

“Answer mine first. You escaped the gods and their island.” He grunted as his wrists and ankles popped back into place. “Did you win their game?”

The king’s lips slowly lifted in a grin. “Delilah did. She saved us both. We have been searching for you since the moment of our return, but the Amazons hid you well. We knew you were there, but we could find no sign of you.”

“Have you news of my sister?” a female voice asked.

Zane looked past his king and saw Delilah standing in the doorway. She was petite in appearance, but as fierce as Nola on a battlefield. Her blue hair was falling around her shoulders, and worry was etched in the violet depths of her eyes.

“She is alive,” he told her, and she expelled a relieved breath. “And she is mine.”

A pause.

“And does she agree with that statement?” Delilah’s head tilted to the side as she rubbed at her slightly rounded belly. There was barely contained fury in her tone. She would slay him without mercy if he hurt Nola, that much was obvious.

Rather than plead his case, he focused on that belly. Slightly rounded. A baby? Layel was to become a father? An ache bloomed in Zane’s chest. He’d wanted children with Cassandra. Had dreamed of them. Yet that, too, had been denied him. Until…now? With Nola… You cannot truly touch her, you fool. That dream is still dead. He couldn’t make himself care, however. As long as he had Nola, nothing else mattered.

“Well?” Delilah insisted.

Did Nola wish to belong to him? she’d asked. He thought so, yes. She had helped him. She had even wanted to go with him. But she was also a warrior to her core, an Amazon warrior at that, and they only tolerated men during mating season. He wanted far more than that. No matter the circumstances. He wanted what Layel and Delilah clearly had.

“We will see,” Zane said, kicking his legs over the bed.

“You only just returned,” Layel said. “Where are you going?”

“To get my woman.” This one, he wouldn’t let get away.

CHAPTER SIX

GRUNTS, GROANS AND THE CLANG of metal against metal roused Nola from her troubled sleep. She wanted to rise, to see what was happening, but could not force her body into action. Her back was a mass of agony, the skin flayed completely. The rest of her, well, it had not fared much better during her battle with Amelia. Nola had won, her determination stronger than any weapon, but she had not emerged unscathed. There were deep sword slices all down her arms, stomach and legs.