Until Death We Do Part

Chapter 4

Velkan landed on the balcony of his mansion that overlooked the quiet valley, and shifted back into human form. Five hundred years ago, this place had been accessible by a dirt road that led up the mountainside to his courtyard. It was a road he'd closed and let be overgrown two hundred years ago when he realized how often he watched it, waiting for Esperetta to return.

Now that road was completely covered by brambles and vines as the forest had reclaimed it. The only way to venture here was by flight or teleportation. Two things that helped to keep away anyone who had no business here.

Velkan paused on the carved-stone balcony to look back toward town. He'd already cleared out the Daimons who'd come to town to prey on the tourists and he still had hours before dawn. His house was completely dark and silent in the night. Viktor had chosen to stay at the hotel with his family—no doubt in fear of Velkan's mood.

And the man had every right to be afraid. Velkan didn't like surprises and Esperetta's arrival had definitely qualified as that. The Weres should have told him to expect her. What they'd done was unforgivable to him.

The gilded French doors to his room opened silently at his approach, then slammed shut behind him. Long ago, his wife had been terrified of his supernatural powers. What he had now made a mockery of the ones he'd borne as a mortal man. Back then, he'd been limited to simple premonitions, curses, potions, and spells that had to be worked with blood and ritual.

Now his powers were truly fierce. Telekinesis, shape-shifting, and pyrokinetics. Over the centuries, he'd become the monster Esperetta had feared. He held his hand out and the bottle of bourbon flew to him. Uncorking it, he drank the bourbon straight from the bottle as he walked past a mirror that didn't cast his reflection.

He laughed at that. Until he neared the fireplace where Esperetta's painting hung. The look on her face froze him to the spot. And as always, it took his breath.

He'd commissioned it right before their wedding. He'd hired Gentile Bellini and had practically been forced to abduct the man out of Venice for the work. But Velkan had known that no one other than that artist would have ever been able to capture her youth and innocence.

Bellini hadn't disappointed. If anything, he'd excelled past all of Velkan's expectations.

Esperetta had been so nervous that day. With bright summer flowers in her dark auburn hair and dressed in a light gold gown, she'd been an absolute vision. Bellini had placed her in the garden outside of Velkan's residence—a garden that was now a gnarled, unsightly mess from lack of care. She'd been fidgeting unmercifully until she'd spied Velkan sitting on the wall, watching her.

Their eyes had met and had held, and the shyest, most beautiful smile that ever graced a woman's face had been captured by the artist. It was a look that could still bring Velkan to his knees.

Snarling at the picture, he forced himself to walk onward, away from it. He should have burned it centuries ago. He still wasn't sure why he hadn't.

In fact, he could send a blast to it even now and burst it into flames…

His hand heated up in expectation. But he balled it into a fist as he left his room, then descended the stairs to the first floor, where Bram and Stoker waited for his return. Calling out to his Tibetan mastiffs, he made his way to his study, where his fire had all but gone out.

He shot a blast of fire into it, making it roar to life. It bathed the room in a dull orange light and caused the shadows to dance eerily along the cold stone walls. He petted his dogs as they welcomed him home with joyful barks and licks. Then they bounded off to retake their seats beside his padded chair. Sighing, Velkan took his seat so that he could stare into the fire that did nothing to warm him. The light was painful for his eyes, but honestly he didn't care.

He glanced over at the dogs on each side of him. "Be glad that you're both neutered. Would that I had been so fortunate." Because right then, his body was hard and aching for the one woman who would never again submit to his touch.

His anger mounting, he took another swig only to curse over the fact that the alcohol couldn't do anything to him. As a Dark-Hunter he could never get drunk. There was no escape from this pain.

Growling, he threw the bottle into the hearth, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. The flames sparked in greedy consumption of the alcohol. The dogs lifted their heads in curiosity while Velkan raked his hand through his hair.

As bad as it had been before, it was so much worse now knowing that she was only a short distance away. Her scent still hung in his nostrils, making him even more feral than he'd been before.

You should go to her and force her to take you back.

That was what the Moldavian warlord Velkan Danesti would have done. He'd have never allowed a slip of a woman to lead him about.

But that man had died the night an innocent young woman had looked up at him with eyes so blue, so trusting, they had instantly stolen his heart. Perhaps this was his punishment for having lived such a brutal human life. To want the one thing he couldn't have. Esperetta's peaceful, soft touch.

Restless with his thoughts, he rose to his feet. Bram rose as well until he realized that Velkan was only going to pace the room. The dog settled back down while Velkan did his best to banish his memories.

But unfortunately, there was no way to cleave his heart from his chest and until he did that he knew he would never escape the prison his wife had condemned him to.

Retta came awake to a stinging headache and found herself tied to an iron chair. The room, which was industrial, like an old warehouse or something, was dark and damp, with an awful stench that was similar to that of a pair of old gym socks mixed with the smell of rotten eggs. It was all she could do to breathe past the stench as she tried to wrest her wrists free of the ropes that held her down.

She could hear faint voices from an adjoining room…

She strained to hear them, but all she caught was a faint whisper until a loud roar rang out, "Death to the Danestis!"

Great chant, especially since she was technically one of them. Granted, she didn't want to claim kinship, but on paper…

"She's awake."

Retta turned her head to see a tall, gaunt man in the doorway. Dressed in black slacks and a turtleneck, he reminded her of a slick city drug dealer, complete with a gold-capped tooth. And he eyed her as if she were the lowest life-form on the planet.

"Thank you, George," an older man dressed in black slacks and a blue button-down shirt and sweater said as he moved past him. There was something innately evil about the older man. He was definitely the kind of guy who'd like to pull the wings off butterflies as a kid. Just for fun.

And pulling up the rear was her "good" friend Stephen, tall and blond. She'd originally liked him because he was the complete antithesis of her husband. Whereas Velkan's features were sullen and intense, Stephen's were wholesome and sweet. He'd reminded her of a very young Robert Redford.

If only she'd known that Stephen wasn't the boy next door. At least not unless you happened to live next door to the Munsters.

She glared at him with every ounce of hatred she felt. "Where am I and what am I doing here?"

It was the older man who answered. "You are our hostage and you are in our… place."

Gee, he was ever so helpful. "Hostage for what?"

It was Stephen who answered. "To get your husband to come to us."

She burst out laughing at the absurdity of that statement. "Is this a joke?"

"No joke," the older man said. "For centuries my family has been hunting him, trying to kill the unholy, unnatural creature he has become."

"And we've been hunting you," "Slim" said as he stepped forward from the doorway.

The old man nodded. "But always you and he escaped us."

"Wow, that doesn't say much about your skills, since I didn't even know I was being chased."

He rushed forward as if to strike her, but Stephen caught him. "Don't, Dieter. She's only trying to provoke you."

"She's doing a good job."

Retta cleared her throat to draw their attention back to her. "Just out of curiosity, why have you been hunting me?"

Stephen stepped closer to her and offered her a cocky smile. "Because you are the one thing we know that will draw Velkan out into the open. He's never responded to any lure we've cast at him… yet."

"Yeah, well, bad news for you, pal. He won't come for me, either."

Dieter scoffed at her. "Of course he will."

She shook her head. "Hardly. News flash, guys. All of you have committed a felony for no good reason. I saw Hubby earlier tonight and he made it plain that he never wants to see me again."

The men exchanged puzzled stares.

"Is she lying?" the old man asked Stephen in German.

Retta had to force herself not to roll her eyes. Surely they weren't so stupid as to think she couldn't speak German?

"She has to be," Stephen answered abruptly. "Good God, the man was impaled for her. In all the centuries while our kind have watched him, he's never been with another woman or we would have used her to get to him. There's not even a record of a one-night stand, and he keeps tabs on Esperetta constantly. Face it, the werewolves would never have sacrificed a daughter to stay with her if he wasn't absolutely adamant that she be protected. Those aren't the actions of a man who hates her."

Slim concurred. "The werewolf I tortured and killed said that he keeps her room just as she left it five hundred years ago. It even has the gown she wore when they married. There's a painting of her when she was human in his bedroom and photographs that have been sent to him to prove that she lives and is happy. He stares at the photographs every night. There's no chance that he doesn't hold her sacred. If he hated her, he would have destroyed all traces of her centuries ago."

"Likewise," Stephen said with a hint of rancor in his voice, "she lives as a nun. I couldn't even get a kiss from her the whole time I've known her. She's only trying to protect him. I'm sure of it."

Retta couldn't breathe as she heard those words. It was true. She'd never touched another man. Had never even been interested in one. Of course, she'd told herself that once burned, a thousand times shy. And she couldn't very well date, let alone marry, a human man who would begin to wonder why she didn't age. After all, there were only so many ways to lie about plastic surgery before it became obvious she was immortal.

And in all this time, she'd convinced herself that Velkan hadn't been as faithful to her. During their lifetime, no woman would have ever expected fidelity from her husband. It was absurd. Even her father, who was adamant about his Christianity and who demanded absolute faithfulness from his subjects, had been known to have mistresses.

So she'd convinced herself that Velkan had never really missed her. That he'd taken what he wanted and used her to kill her father.

Could it be that Velkan really did love her? That he missed her?

If it were true, then she deserved to die at their hands. Because if it were true, then she'd been punishing a man for centuries for no other crime than loving her.

No one should be hurt because of that.

Surely she hadn't been that stupid. Had she?

I am such a rabid bitch. No wonder Velkan had told her to get lost. She was lucky he hadn't choked her. Clenching her teeth to staunch the pain that ached inside her, she tried her best to remember what he'd said the night she'd left Romania. She could see the moonlight on his face, the blood on his armor.

They'd argued, but now she couldn't remember anything other than her confusion and fear of him. She'd been absolutely convinced that he'd tried to kill her by burying her in the ground. That he'd lied about the tonic he'd given her.

But had he?

Please don't let me be wrong. Please. "He won't come for me," Retta said from between clenched teeth. "I know he won't."

Dieter narrowed those rodent eyes on her. "We shall see. Not that it matters. Either way, we kill you."

It was almost five in the morning when Velkan found himself alone in his bedroom. Then again, he was always alone in his bedroom. God, he was such a fool. Any man worth his salt would just find a willing female and sate the ache in his loins for a woman's body.

But Velkan refused to forsake the oath he'd taken to Esperetta. He'd vowed before his father's God to honor her and to keep himself for her only, and he'd stood by that oath.

Even though he hated himself for it.

There was only one woman who held his attention and it was why he despised her so much. She'd left him with nothing. Not even his manhood.

Damn her.

Suddenly there was a knock on his door. "I told you to leave me alone, Viktor," he snarled, thinking it was his Squire.

"It's not Viktor," Raluca said from the other side of the doorway.

How unlike her to venture here so close to the dawn. Not that the dawn held any sway for her, but normally Velkan would be preparing for bed.

Frowning, he opened the door with his thoughts to find her there, wringing her hands. Her sons and Francesca were behind her and all of them echoed their mother's worry. His stomach shrank. "What has happened?"

Raluca swallowed. "They have taken her."

He knew instantly that Esperetta was the her. "Who has?"

"The Order of the Dragon," Andrei said, his voice tinged by anger. "Once they notified us that they held her, we tried to get her free, but…"

"But?" Velkan prompted.

Francesca stepped forward. "They have her tied inside a cage. An electric one. There's no way for us to get to her without it immobilizing us."

Velkan gave them a droll stare. "Fine, let her stew there, thinking about how much she's betrayed me. When the sun sets, I'll go get her."

The Weres exchanged a nervous glance before Raluca spoke. "It's not that simple, my prince. They've put her on a small stool with no rungs. And that stool is on an electrified floor. If she puts her legs down at all or slips from the stool, it'll kill her instantly."

Francesca nodded. "They have enough juice on that floor to light up New York City."

He wanted to tell her that he didn't care, but the fear in his heart told him exactly how much of a lie that was.

But before he could move, Raluca was by his side, with her hand on his arm. "You know you can't go, either."

He narrowed his eyes on her. "I'm not afraid of them."

"It's too close to dawn," Raluca insisted. "You'll end up like Illie if you go. They know our weaknesses."

Velkan took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. Illie had been her mate who'd died at the hands of the Order. Five years ago, he'd been captured when one of their Order had used a Taser on him. The electricity had shot through his cells, turning him from man to wolf and back again. It was one of the few things that could completely incapacitate a Were-Hunter. Enough electricity would ultimately kill them.

And if the Order had Esperetta, then they already knew Velkan's weakness.

"Would you have her die?" he asked Raluca.

He saw the pity in Raluca's face. She'd been Esperetta's nurse before his wife had been oblated to the convent.

"Not by choice. But better her than you."

"Mom!" Francesca snapped. "No offense, but I choose Retta in this. She's an innocent victim."

Her mother turned on her with a snarl. "And the prince has guarded us for centuries. But for him, I would be dead now and so would your brothers."

"We're wasting time," Velkan said, cutting them off. "I need you to take me to her so that I can free her before the sun rises." He saw the reservation in Raluca's eyes. "It's why you came, is it not?"

She shook her head. "I came only because I knew you would be angry if I failed to tell you what had happened."

She was right about that. He would never stand by and see Esperetta harmed—even if he did hate her. "Don't fear. You can teleport me there and I can turn off the electricity, then you can teleport both of us out, long before the sun rises."

Francesca screwed up her face. "It's not that easy. The switch is inside the cage. You'll be electrocuted trying to switch it off."

He sighed at the prospect, but it changed nothing. He just wished he could use his telekinesis on it. But electricity was the one thing he couldn't move with his mind. Its living nature made it highly unpredictable, and he could accidentally hurt or kill someone by trying to manipulate it mentally. He would have to manually shut it off. "Fine. It won't kill me." It would just hurt like hell.

"There's more," Viktor said quietly.

This he couldn't wait to hear. "That is?"

"They have a generator rigged and another switch that is also inside another electric cage. If you turn it off, it won't give us enough time to reach her before they fry us, and unlike you, we're not immune."

Raluca nodded. "And they have her out in a courtyard. The wall of which is surrounded by mirrors to reflect the rising sun directly onto you should you go to her. Their intent is for none of us to survive this."

And they'd done a good job setting this trap.

Velkan let out a tired breath as he considered what was about to happen. But it didn't matter. "My wife is in danger. Take me to her."

Retta ground her teeth as every muscle in her legs ached from the strain of keeping them off the floor. The effort showed itself in small tears in her eyes. This had to be the most excruciating pain she'd ever experienced. Honestly, she didn't know how much longer she could stand it and not rest her legs.

The dry hum of electricity was a cold reminder of what would happen to her if she didn't keep them lifted…

"You can do it," she whispered.

But what good would it do? They were determined to kill her regardless. Why was she even fighting the inevitable? She should just put her feet down and get it over with. Put herself out of her misery.

Velkan wouldn't come for her. Francesca couldn't. It was over. There was no need to delay the inevitable, and yet Retta couldn't make herself give up. It just wasn't in her.

"What is it about you and this country that you are ever finding yourself in peril whenever you're here?"

She jerked her head up as she heard that deep, resonant voice that went down her spine like a gentle caress. "Velkan?"

He stepped out of the shadows and neared the edge of the electrified floor that separated the two of them. His face was awash with shadows and yet he'd never looked more handsome to her. "Is there anyone else stupid enough to be here?"

She glanced up at the sky that was growing lighter by the second. "You can't stay. You have to go."

He didn't say anything as he turned into a bat and flew toward her. Her heart pounding, she watched as he neared the cage, but the wire was too tight for him to fly into the cage with her.

She could swear she heard him curse before he turned back into a man. And as soon as he did, the force of the electrical current threw him back ten feet, onto the grass. This time there was no mistaking his fierce curse.

"Forget it!" she said, looking up at the sky again. It was too close to the dawn. "There's no need in both of us dying."

Shaking his head, he ran at the cage and grabbed the wire. Retta cringed at the sound of his skin frying as he seized it. His entire body shook from the force of the electricity. It had to be unbearable. And still he held on, pulling at the wire until he'd torn through it. Amazed by his strength and courage, she was crying by the time he threw the switch and turned the electricity off.

"There's another—" Before she could say more the electricity returned. She jerked her feet up as a thousand curses came to her mind for the people who'd rigged this damned place.

Velkan grabbed ahold of the cage and snarled an instant before he punched straight through the metal floor. Two seconds later, he pulled a thick wire up from underneath and tore it in half.

The humming ceased as the electricity vanished again.

Too scared to put her faith in that, she waited for it to return. And as each second ticked by while she watched Velkan's frayed appearance, relief coursed through her.

He'd done it. Her tears coursed down her cheeks as gratitude swelled in her heart. In spite of the fact that she wasn't worth it, he'd come for her. And in that moment, she remembered exactly why she loved this man. She remembered all the reasons that she'd wanted to spend her life by his side.

Velkan reached for her.

Until sunlight cut across his body. Hissing, he jerked back, instinctively covering his face. Then he took another step toward her only to have more mirrors turned to him.

Even so, he crawled toward her, while Stephen and the others kept the mirrors on him, so that he could loosen her hands. She quickly freed herself.

Her rage mounting, Retta tried to wrap herself around her husband, but she wasn't large enough to cover him from the deadly rays that made his skin blister and boil. His entire body was smoldering as he tried to make it toward the wall where there were still shadows.

He staggered at the same time Stephen and the others left the house. They were coming to finish Velkan off, but she'd be damned if they'd get to him without fighting her.

Retta stood her ground, ready to battle until she felt someone grab her from behind. She turned to strike but caught herself as she saw a friendly face.

"It's me," Francesca said as she flashed them from the garden.

One second Retta was a hair from death, and in the next she was in a room she hadn't seen in centuries…

Velkan's bedroom.

Retta's heart pounded in fear. "We can't leave him."

"We didn't."

She looked around her as Viktor flashed into the room with Velkan in tow before he sank to the floor between Andrei and Viktor. Horror filled her as she stared at what remained of him. He was bloodied and scorched. The scent of burnt hair and flesh invaded her senses, making her queasy.

But she didn't care. Terrified that he was dying, she rushed to Velkan's side and rolled him over. Tears gathered to choke her as she saw the damage done to him. "Velkan?"

He didn't speak. He merely stared at her and blinked.

Pushing her aside, Viktor and Andrei picked Velkan up from the floor and moved him to the bed:

Retta followed, wanting to help.

"You should go," Viktor said coldly as Andrei struggled to peel Velkan's shirt from the flesh that seemed to be melted to it. "You've done enough damage."

"He's my husband."

Viktor narrowed his cold blue eyes at her. "And you walked out on him five hundred years ago. Remember? Do him a favor and let history repeat itself."

"Viktor!" Francesca snarled. "How dare you."

"It's all right," Retta said, calming down her friend. "He's only doing his job."

Then Retta moved to stand beside Viktor. This time when she spoke, she lowered her voice and let her raw emotions show in every syllable. "Get in my way again, boy, and you're going to learn that Velkan isn't the only one in this family who has fangs." That said, she pushed her way past him to reach the bed where Velkan lay.

She wasn't sure if he was still conscious until she paused by his side. Her stomach shrank at the sight of his blistered and charred skin.

But it was the pain in his eyes that took her breath. In spite of the part of her that wanted to run from the horrible sight of him, she reached out and placed her hand to an undamaged part of his cheek.

He closed his eyes as if he savored her touch.

"Thank you, Velkan," she breathed.

He took a breath as if he would respond, but before he could, he passed out on the bed.

Viktor moved to stand next to her, "Are you going to just stare at him or are you going to actually help us tend him?"

She looked to Viktor, whose face bore all the rancor of his voice. "You're such an asshole, Viktor."

He opened his mouth to respond, but Francesca covered his mouth with her hand. "Lay off, little brother. They've both been through a lot today."

Curling his lip, he moved to the other side of the bed, where Andrei was still trying to get the shirt off. Retta helped him undress Velkan, but as she saw a fierce scar in the center of Velkan's chest, just over his heart, she paused. That hadn't been there when he'd been mortal. It literally looked as if someone had staked him through the heart.

"What on earth?" she said, fingering it. It was at least six inches wide and four deep. "How did this happen?"

Viktor gave her a droll stare. "Can't you handle the sight of your father's handiwork?"

She frowned at Viktor. "What are you talking about?"

"The scar," Andrei said quietly. "It's where the lance left his body after your father ordered him impaled."

Retta jerked her hand back, not wanting to believe it. "I don't find your humor funny."

"I'm not joking."

Nausea filled her as she looked back to Velkan's blistered face. Then she looked to Raluca, who nodded grimly.

"I don't understand," Retta whispered.

Raluca's eyes were kind as she explained. "After your father killed you, Princess, he viciously turned on Velkan. He tortured him for weeks until he finally had him impaled in the square at Tîrgovişte. That's how he died and was able to become a Dark-Hunter."

Still, she had a hard time believing it. Her father had loved her so much. Would he really, even in anger, have killed her? He may have hated the world, but to him, his children had always been sacred. "Why didn't Velkan tell me?"

Viktor snorted. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you ran from him when he tried and didn't stop running."

"Viktor!" Raluca snapped.

"Everyone stop 'Viktoring' me. I speak the truth that all of you are too scared to say. She ought to understand what he's gone through to keep her safe. What he suffered as a human. For. Her." Viktor turned back toward Retta. "He didn't mind his own death—he'd planned on that. It was yours that destroyed him. He'd surrendered himself to your father, knowing the bastard was going to impale him. He thought that by having you drink the sleeping potion your father would see you dressed for burial and leave you be. His plan was for my mother to take you to Germany, where Francesca was living, and to keep you safe while your father tortured him. He never dreamed your father was going to stab you in the heart while you lay dead."

That hadn't been the plan Velkan had given her. They were to lie side by side as if dead and then awaken once her father was safely gone and convinced of their deaths. Velkan was then supposed to take her to Paris, where they could be together without fear of her father's reprisal against Velkan. Free of the war that was waged between their families.

She looked to Francesca for the truth, but for once her friend was speechless. "Velkan surrendered to my father?"

"What did you think he was going to do?" Viktor asked angrily.

"He told me we would both drink the potion and that my father would see us dead, then leave us in peace."

Viktor nodded. "And you drank it first."

"Of course, and then I saw him drink it right after me."

Viktor shook his head. "He never swallowed it. Once you were unconscious, he spat it out and placed you in state for viewing. He was afraid that if you were both unconscious your father would behead both of you. So he remained conscious and told your father that you'd died of disease. Your father promised him that once he saw you, he would be content to take Velkan and leave. Velkan submitted to him and had to watch him kill you."

And she had run out on him…

Again, her gaze went to Francesca for verification. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Her gaze sad, Francesca sighed. "You didn't want to hear it. If I ever tried to take his side, you yelled at me, so I learned to drop the subject."

It was true and Retta knew it. She had no one to blame but herself.

Retta's heart ached as she thought about how many years… no, centuries she'd deprived herself and Velkan of because she'd been stupid and unforgiving. No wonder Viktor hated her. She deserved it.

Clenching her teeth, she looked up at the picture over the fireplace—the one that had been her wedding portrait. Tears gathered in her eyes as she recalled the day it'd been sketched. The sight of Velkan on the wall, watching her with nothing but adoration on his face. He'd looked like a woodland sprite come to life to stand guard over her.

She blinked away her tears before glancing back at the bed where her husband lay. "We have to get him healed."

"Why?" Viktor asked.

"So that I can apologize."

But getting Velkan healed proved to be easier said than done. The sun damage was hard for even an immortal to overcome. Not to mention they still had the threat of the Order out there wanting them dead. At least here in Velkan's home the Order couldn't get to them.

"You should go rest."

Retta looked up at Raluca's voice. The older woman stood in the doorway with a chiding look on her face.

Retta stretched in her chair to ease her sore and cramped muscles. She'd been by Velkan's side for the last four days while he slept. At first his continued sleep had seriously concerned her, but Raluca and Viktor had assured her that it was natural for a Dark-Hunter to sleep like that whenever he was injured. It was what enabled his body to heal.

True to their words, every day Velkan's skin did seem better than the day before. Now he merely looked as if he had a serious sunburn and the bruises were all but gone.

"I don't feel like resting," Retta said quietly.

"You have barely eaten or slept."

"It's not like I can get sick of die."

Raluca tsked at her as she turned around muttering. "Fine. I'll bring your food here, but trust me. If the prince awakens he will be grateful he doesn't have a heightened sense of smell."

Highly offended, Retta daintily sniffed at herself to make sure she didn't stink.

"Relax. She was only teasing."

Her heart stopped beating as she heard that deep voice. "Velkan?" She shot from her chair to the bed to see his eyes open.

"I thought you'd be gone by now."

She swallowed against the tight knot in her throat "Hardly. I have much to do."

"Such as?"

Retta swallowed against the lump in her throat before she answered. "Apologize to you."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I'm stupid and pigheaded. Judgmental. Unforgiving. Mistrustful—you can stop me at any time, you know?"

One corner of his mouth lifted to taunt her. "Why should I? You're on quite a roll. Besides, you missed the worst flaw."

"And that is?"

"Hotheaded."

"I learned that one from you."

"How so?"

"Remember that time when you threw your boots into the fire because you had trouble getting them off?"

Velkan frowned at her words. "I never did that."

"Yes, you did. You also gave your favorite saddle to the stable master because it scratched your leg as you dismounted and told him he could have it but, personally, you'd burn it, too."

That one he remembered well. He still bore the scar from it. But what surprised him was the fact that she remembered the incidents. "I thought you banished all traces of me from your memory."

She looked away sheepishly. "God knows I tried, but you're a hard man to forget." When she looked back at him, their gazes met and locked. "I've been so stupid, Velkan. I really am sorry."

He lay there completely stunned by the heartfelt emotion in her voice. There had a been a time when he prayed to hear those words from her lips. A time when he'd pictured this moment.

"Can you ever forgive me?" she asked.

"I could forgive you anything, Esperetta, but I could never trust you again."

Retta scowled at his words. "What do you mean?"

"When you left and didn't return, you proved to me that you had no faith in me as a man or a husband. You were so suspicious of me that you honestly thought I could kill you. Obviously, we had a lot of problems in our marriage that I didn't know about."

"That's not true."

"Then why didn't you come home?"

Because she thought he'd kill her. She really had. "I was young. We lived in turbulent times. Our families had spent generations killing each other—"

"And you thought that the only reason I married you was to kill you." He shook his head. "You know as well as I do that I was disowned by my family when they learned we'd wed."

It was true. His family had turned them out. His father had sent an army to seal this house and make sure that Velkan would never enter it again.

But the worst had been his father burning everything that had held Velkan's symbol or name. Even the family crest book that bore the Danesti lineage had been burned and a new one created that left no trace of Velkan's birth.

"I thought that you'd had enough of running from our families. And we both know that had you returned home after killing me and my father, your father would have welcomed you back."

Those black eyes burned her. "I made my decision as to who held my loyalty on the day I bound myself to you, Esperetta. I knew the cost and the pain our union would cause my family and still I thought you were worth it. You spat on me and you spat on the love I wanted to give you."

"I know I hurt you."

"No," he whispered. "You didn't hurt me. You destroyed me."

Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

" 'Sorry' doesn't even begin to fix five hundred years."

He was right and she knew it. "Why did you tie our souls together without telling me?"

His eyes burned her with sadness. "I didn't want to live without you… in either this life or the next. I had intended to tell you what I'd done, but your father ran us to ground before I had the chance. Little did I know that when I sold my soul to Artemis for vengeance your soul would go with mine."

What he didn't say was that she'd caused him to suffer the very thing he'd wanted most to avoid… a lifetime spent without her.

In that moment, she hated herself for what she'd done. And she didn't blame him for not forgiving her.

He'd given her the world and she'd spurned him. Unable to stand the mistake she'd made, she got up. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"I'll get you something to eat. Hang tight." Retta paused at the door to look back to where he lay on the large bed. It was the bed she'd lost her virginity in. She could still see that night so clearly. She'd been terrified and excited. Velkan for all his ruthlessness had left her untouched and in a room down the hallway.

He'd promised to take her the next day to her father's agents and release her. It'd been the last thing she'd wanted. Her father would have sent her back to the convent to live out a life of prayer and hard work—not that anything had been wrong with either of those. But she'd already fallen in love with her dark warlord and she didn't want to go back without a small token.

Her intent had been nothing more than an innocent kiss. But the moment their lips had touched, Velkan had swept her up in his arms and she had submitted to him willingly—even more eager to taste him than he was to have her.

Closing her eyes, she could still remember the feel of him inside her as he clutched her leg to his hip and thrust against her. "I will never let you go, Esperetta," he'd whispered fiercely in her ear.

And then he'd given her a kiss so hot that her lips still tingled from it.

How had she ever turned her back on that? A tear slid down her cheek before she brushed it away and headed downstairs to the kitchen. She scratched Bram on the head as she passed the giant animal that reminded her more of a cow than a dog.

"Good to see you out of that room," Raluca said as she set her tray down that was filled with food.

"I'm only here because Velkan is awake and hungry."

Francesca snorted as she entered the kitchen behind her. "And you're here getting food? What kind of stupid are you? I'd be in bed with him."

"Frankie!" Raluca snapped. "Please. I am your mother."

"Sorry," she said, but her tone was less than apologetic.

Retta sighed as she straightened up the flower in the vase Raluca had put on the tray. "It doesn't matter what I want. I blew it with him a long time ago."

Francesca shook her head. "You can't blow it with someone who loves you that much."

"I daresay you're wrong. I just wish you guys would let me go home."

"The Order would be all over you now that they know for a fact you're real. You can never go home again."

And she couldn't stay here. How perfect was this?

Raluca gave her a sympathetic smile. "He loves you, Princess. He's hurt, but underneath that is the man who went through a fate far worse than death trying to save you. He won't let something as cold as pride keep you from him."

"It's not pride, Raluca. It's broken trust. How do you repair that?'"

"That's up to you, Princess. You have to show him that you want to stay with him."

"And how do I do that?"

"You close your office and have Andrei and Viktor bring all of your belongings here."

"What if he won't let me?"

"How can he stop you? You're the Lady Danesti. This home is half yours."

Retta smiled as she considered that. But in order to stay here, she'd have to give up everything.

No, not give up. So she couldn't be a divorce lawyer in Romania. She wouldn't be able to keep up her practice too much longer anyway. Some people were already getting a bit suspicious because she hadn't aged.

She looked around the stone walls that somehow managed to be warm and inviting. Stay with Velkan…

Somehow that was nearly as frightening as it had been. But in order to stay, she'd have to reclaim the heart her husband had closed to her. C'mon, Ret, you're made of sterner stuff than this. And she was, too. She wasn't going to walk out on him again.

But as Raluca said, she'd have to find some way to show her husband just how serious she was.