Claimed

Chapter 2

Dust tickled Emma’s nose and powdered her knees as she knelt next to Dage while the last rays of the day filtered inside the dank cave. They’d run for nearly two hours until reaching the hills and myriad of caves. A dripping somewhere down a small tunnel caused a shiver to run up her back, and she pushed away thoughts of bats. And spiders. She had real monsters to worry about.

She shifted her attention to Dage, who sat against the wall, blood running in rivulets down his broad chest to stain his jeans. He’d been sitting for nearly fifteen minutes attempting to close the holes in his body without success.

The sound of her throat clearing echoed around the rock walls of the cave. “You’re hurt, you need to feed.”

He raised an eyebrow, arrogant even in pain. “Feed? You watch too much television, love.”

“You don’t drink blood?”

“Sure. During extreme situations like battle or sex. But for dinner I prefer a nice steak with a vintage cabernet.” His grin slid into a grimace.

“I’d say this is an extreme situation.” The scent of his blood sent her instincts reeling. She may not have her sister’s empathic abilities, but even Emma could feel vibrations from the king’s pain. “You need blood.”

His chin lifted, a challenge sparking though those dangerous eyes. “Do I?”

Frustration whispered through her. “Yes.” Although she needed saving because of his people’s war, he had mounted a battle against several monsters to save her, and she couldn’t do less for him.

“Sure you can. You don’t owe me anything.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the rough rock wall. “And while the Kurjans dragged you into this mess by using your lab for research, you’ll soon learn this is where you belong.”

Damn it. “Listen vampire, you’ll show me the respect of staying the hell out of my head.” Great. That’s all she needed. The guy who’d starred in her kinkiest fantasies since her teenage years reading her thoughts.

His full lips quirked up. “My apologies. I’m not at one hundred percent here—blocking takes effort.”

“Try.”

“I promise I’ll try.” He kept his eyes closed.

She fought to concentrate on anything but the king’s pain. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Three and a half centuries or so.”

Wow. “How long have you been king?”

“All but twenty-five of those years. Our parents were killed by the Kurjans and I had to step up.” His breath hissed out on a note of pain. “We went to war for too long, and then we brokered peace. Until last month.”

“When the Kurjans discovered me.” Guilt slid down Emma’s spine. She’d led the devils right to Cara and Janie, Cara’s young daughter. Two more gifted females.

“Yes.” Dage stretched the long column of his neck, sucking in air. “They discovered you when using your lab to conduct some of their research.” A pained grin lifted his lips. “You must be very good at your job.”

“Good enough to figure out I wasn’t working on a cure for cancer.” She’d never forget returning to the lab one night to discover two Kurjans meeting with her old boss. “I saw the Kurjans and ran away.” She’d mailed her flash drive to a friend, and she’d been on the run since.

“We’re going to need you to recount what you remember from your research.” Dage paled further.

“I know.” She leaned forward, willing his bleeding to stop. Coppery fresh blood flowed down the hard planes of his chest. That tattoo whispered secrets and flared nerves to life along her skin. The Kayrs Marking. A quick glance at his collarbone and neck revealed bullet holes oozing blood. Smaller than before, but still bleeding.

These were the first actual bullet holes she’d ever seen. Her father had shot toward her with a shotgun during his drunken rages, but he’d always missed. “The green flash from the Kurjan’s gun looked like lasers. Why are there bullet holes in your neck?”

“The burst of light is a laser which hardens into bullets when meeting flesh.”

Weapons to injure immortals. God knows what damage such devices would inflict upon humans. She sighed. “Do you think the Kurjans are near?”

He shook his head without opening his eyes. “No. I don’t sense evil anywhere near us. We’re probably safe for a couple hours, then we should move again.”

A couple hours? Damn. She needed him in fighting shape. “Will drinking my blood help heal you?”

His lids flipped open, revealing those silver eyes that had haunted her dreams for fifteen years. Hunger, raw and pure, filled them. “Yes.”

Emma gulped in air. The husky timber of his voice caressed nerves she didn’t want to own. “I won’t become a vampire?”

His dimples winked at her. “No. Vampires are born, not made.”

Fear and her damn curiosity blended until she could only whisper. “Okay.” She held out her wrist and shut her eyes. And waited. The breeze picked up outside the cave, rustling pine needles and leaves inside the small entrance, and she shivered. Finally, she opened her eyes in exasperation. “What?”

Reaching out with his good arm, he lifted her chin with one knuckle, waiting until her gaze met his. “I want your neck.”

Low and rough, his voice skittered need through her midriff. Talk about direct. “Um, well, why?” Her mind reeled and she fought the urge to drop her gaze to his mouth. She lost the fight. He ran a tongue along those full lips. Need rippled through her. How did he do that?

He waited again until she focused on him, her eyes widening on the pure confidence shining in his. “I’ve been waiting to taste you for centuries—I don’t want you extending your wrist to me and looking the other way.”

“What do you want?” She shouldn’t have asked that.

For answer, he reached out with his healthy arm and lifted her until she straddled his lap. She should’ve protested, but the easy strength and warm hand on her hip caught the breath in her throat. Fascinating. Such true, raw power. She pressed both hands against the undamaged muscles of his chest, balancing herself. His erection lay thick and hard beneath her, and she fought the urge to clench her thighs against his legs.

He stared at her through half-lidded eyes, his hands going to unbutton her cotton shirt.

“What are you doing?” she breathed.

“I don’t want to get blood on your shirt.” His gaze dropped to the swell of her breasts over the plain white bra. Fire flared within those silver depths and she fought a moan.

“That’s enough.” She covered his hands with hers.

With a nod, he gently placed her hands on his thighs before clasping the shirt and drawing it down both arms. The lower buttons remained engaged, and the material trapped her arms at her sides.

He pinned her with a gaze so full of hunger she couldn’t speak. “You’ll give your blood?”

Emma nodded, her focus narrowing to the man before her.

Sharp fangs emerged from his canines and he growled, reaching one arm around to cup her head and pull it to the side. Her neck stretched and vulnerability battled with arousal down her length. Every muscle in her body tensed to flee. His other hand gasped her hip, flexed, then slid up to her bare shoulder, entrapping her.

There was no escaping him.

Tugging her closer, he buried his head in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. She tensed, waiting for the pain. Instead, he pressed one tender kiss to her rapidly beating pulse. She felt it to her core.

He inhaled, running his mouth along her collarbone and up to her ear, where he nipped. “You smell like spiced rum and peaches.” He breathed against her skin, his hands holding her firmly in place. “Some dreams I could smell you, but not this strongly. Never this fully.” He rose up, drawing in a deep breath. “Never so much I’d do anything to have you.”

Quick as a whip, he struck.

His fangs pierced her skin. Emma cried out, shutting her eyes.

Her blood boiled.

Raw need flared her flesh to life and a hum began deep in her core. Without caring enough to stop and think, she pressed against him, so hard, so full. His mouth pulled harder, and her nipples pebbled into pinpoints of need. Something contracted in her womb, begging for him. He drank more, and she exploded into a thousand pieces. The room sheeted white as an orgasm tore through her with the force of a furious tornado. She went limp, held upright only by his hands.

Sealing the wound, his tongue lashed across her skin and she shivered, nearly dazed. He held her in place and lifted his head away from her, his gaze piercing on her heated face.

She should be embarrassed, but a warm haze clouded her vision, her brain.

“Emma?”

She lifted heavy lids to focus.

His eyes burned hotter than molten steel. “I want you.”

“I know.” She sat on the proof of his desire. Hard and throbbing. “But we just met.” Hours ago.

His hands slid down to cup her hips, pulling her closer along his rigid length. “Have you dreamed about me?”

“Yes.” She fought a groan at the warm strength grasping her even as desire began to heat again.

His gaze dropped to her needy breasts, and his hands flexed before he looked back up. “For how long?”

She glanced away, evading his question to see the bullet holes close into healthy flesh and the large wound from the tree stitch together until disappearing. His chest appeared as if never injured. “You’re all right.”

“Yes. I asked you a question.”

She’d say the arrogance returned with his healing, but really, had it ever disappeared? “I’m aware of that, Dage.” The breathiness coating her voice ruined the sarcasm.

He released her to grab his discarded shirt and wipe the remaining blood from his skin. “Then answer me.”

She shrugged. “Fifteen years or so.” Since she’d hit puberty.

Pleasure filtered across his strong features, and he tossed the shirt away. “I’ve dreamed about you for two hundred years. I’d say we’ve known each other for quite a bit of time.”

She grinned. “Is this your way of making a move?”

His eyes darkened to zinc. “No. This is.” One large hand covered her breast and flexed.

She gasped, fighting the absolutely insane urge to rub against him.

Desire and intent filled his eyes. His free hand clasped her hair and pushed her mouth to his. Pure raging fire slid through her veins as the immortal made his move.

Sweeping his tongue inside her mouth, he tasted at his leisure, pressing her further into him. Her mind spun, her breasts ached. Almost as if he knew her thoughts, he swept one callused thumb inside her bra, sliding across a turgid nipple. She moaned into his mouth, both hands clutching his strong shoulders closer.

He deserted her lips, trailing hot kisses along her jawline to her neck, where he nipped. Leaning back, he slid her shirt down farther, his clever hand flicking open the front clasp of her bra and sliding the sides apart. His eyes flared hot and hungry before his head dropped and he drew one hard nipple into his blazing mouth.

She moaned, her hands clenching his hair, drawing him closer. Oh God. Pure wanton need shot through every nerve, clamoring together in a craving only he could satisfy. He suckled, sliding his hand around her waist to plunge into her jeans and cup her ass. Rough and warm, he kneaded.

Wait, something tickled the back of her mind. Something there ... “Dage!” She pulled back, her breast leaving his mouth with a soft pop.

“What?” he growled, clearly disgruntled, moving back toward her chest.

She tightened her grip and yanked on his hair.

He stilled, danger flashing through his eyes. “What?”

“Your hand.” She gulped in air, trying to focus, trying to dispel some of the need. “Your hand.”

“What about it?” He pulled free to glance at it.

For answer, she released his hair, grabbed his hand and flipped it over, curling the fingers of her hands around the edges. A raised crest, intricate and black spread across his palm. Lines crossed and swirled, and a thick K rose through the design. A smaller version of his tattoo.

“The marking,” he said, his voice deepening to a rumble.

“The marking,” she affirmed. They needed to get a couple of things straight right now. Her visions never lied, and she had to protect them both. “I’ll not be branded, Dage.” She swallowed rapidly, trying to clear her head.

He raised an eyebrow. “The marking only appears when we touch our mates, love. I drank your blood, and it appeared.” His jaw firmed. “You will be marked.”

Her temper stirred to war with desire. “No.”

His full lips quirked. “I should’ve known the Queen of the Realm would be a pain in my ass.”

The queen? She cleared her throat. “I’m no one’s queen, Dage. Not a chance.” She shifted against him, her eyes nearly rolling out of her head at the delicious friction.

Reaching out, he placed one warm fingertip against her chin and traced a path straight down, inch by slow inch until coming to a stop above her left breast. His hand flattened, pressing against her heart. “You sure about that, love?”

The traitorous little organ gave one hard thump against his palm. “Yes.”

He wet his lips. “Well then, how about tonight is just about tonight?”

“Tonight?” She rocked against him. “What about the Kurjans?”

“They’re nowhere near us right now.” He lifted his head and inhaled as if seeking answers from the universe. “With any luck they searched toward the eastern mountain range, which is why we made a beeline to the south. We have a couple of hours before we need to move. So, tonight?”

Tonight sounded good, and the added thrill of danger caused shivers down her spine. Dage had haunted her dreams for years, she deserved one night. Just one. “All right. But no marking or invading my thoughts.” He could never know what her visions had revealed.

What might have been.

Grasping her sagging blouse with both hands, he tugged. The remaining buttons scattered across hard-packed earth. She gasped, forgetting all about the future.

Only the present mattered.

He slid her shirt off followed by the straps of her bra. “I think I can entertain us both without marking or invading—at least for tonight.” His hands went to her breasts, molding, exploring, appreciating. “You’re so pretty, love.”

A pure flush of desire rose from those breasts to her face. She ran her palms down the hard muscles of his chest to his tight abs. Finally. She was finally touching him. So much strength—truly worthy of a king.

She yanked free the button of his pants, and her gaze met his while she released his zipper. Her breath came in short bursts. She was more than a match for the leader, as he would soon see. Emma leaned forward to nibble on the sizzling skin she’d dreamed about. The reality tasted even better. Smooth, salty man tantalized her when she nipped at his collarbone. Then bit.

He growled low, hands going to her waist to tug her to the ground. She opened her senses to him. His heartbeat echoed throughout her own head, and then ... he stilled.

His head lifted and he scented the air. Slamming his metallic eyes shut, he swore. He grabbed her shirt and yanked it up her arms, holding tight to the front.

“What is it?” Her stomach dropped in fear. “Did the Kurjans find us?”

“Worse.” Dage shifted her to the side and stood, lending a hand to help her up.

Two men crowded the entrance to the cave—the men from her dreams. “Your brothers?”

“Yes.”

Her mind spun. A hollowness echoed throughout her body that might never be filled. “How is that worse?” She took his hand, holding her shirt together with trembling fingers.

“Because I can’t kill them,” Dage said grimly, pulling her forward. He nodded at the green-eyed brother in the lead. “It’s nice to know you followed orders and went to secure the facilities as needed.” He shifted his focus to the copper-eyed brother. “One word Jase, and I’ll rip out your jugular.”

Jase wisely kept silent, though the twinkle in those eyes laughed hard enough to make sound.

The first man threw caution to the wind. “Hi Emma. I’m Conn.” He clapped Dage on the back. “We couldn’t let the king miss the ball, now could we?”

Ball? What ball?