Shadow's Seduction (The Dacians #2)(15)

Had her cheeks ever been so red? “Yes. A p-pleasure.” She was as bashful as Mirceo was shameless.

Though Mina was tongue-tied and adorable, the demon’s eyes weren’t lighting up. Caspion’s expression could best be described as . . . fond.

As Mina’s practice came to a close, the last clang of steel echoed over the courtyard. She must’ve sensed Mirceo’s gaze on her. She peered up at him, her face glowing. Tossing her sword to a servant, she traced to Mirceo. “Your heart is beating!”

He swung her around in his arms. “It is, my darling Mina! I’ve been blooded, enjoying all that this milestone entails.” His speed now rivaled hers, his senses more acute than ever. Little other than a beheading or unfiltered sunlight could kill him, and he regenerated even faster. His injuries from the night before had healed in mere hours. No doubt helped along by Caspion’s crimson ambrosia.

Transforming himself into mist—a talent only Dacians possessed—would be much easier, and he’d be able to transform his mate as well.

“Already!” She suffered no reticence or awkwardness with her big brother. “How fortunate. Are you much stronger?”

“By a hundredfold.”

“So it was Caspion! I knew it.” Mina’s innocent eyes gazed past Mirceo. “Where is he?”

Not with me. Yet. “Take a walk?”

She eagerly nodded, and they exited the castle perimeter to stroll down one of the cobblestone streets.

After a few moments, Mirceo admitted, “Caspion is being a touch resistant to the idea of me as a mate. Might’ve spurned me a bit.”

Her blond brows drew together. “But he wasn’t resistant to the idea of me as his mate.”

In a dry tone, Mirceo said, “Believe me, I have moments when I wish I were your big sister.”

“I meant, that he didn’t mind my species. Or my diet.”

“No, vampirism is not the obstacle.” He should be so lucky. In order to have Caspion, Mirceo would’ve eaten food and lived like a demon—even though he’d regain pesky bodily functions and miss the hell out of blood and biting. Gods, I would miss biting. “My masculinity, however . . .”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, brother, but I don’t think sweet Caspion would spurn you if you were everything perfect except for your . . . maleness.”

Mirceo frowned. “Then by that reasoning, are you saying I’m imperfect?”

“I’m just saying other factors might be at work.”

He exhaled a gust of breath. “Maybe I am seizing on the one thing I can’t change—because I don’t have the fortitude to change the things I can.”

“That would mean evolving as a person.” For such an innocent female, Mina could be surprisingly incisive. “Which would take work.”

Perhaps Mirceo could be a touch less arrogant. Maybe a bit less vain. He could take things more seriously.

How boring I’d be! “Damn him, I like myself. All I want to do is be there for him. To get back to our enhanced friendship.”

“Much has happened since then.” In a lower voice, she added, “With his defeat in the Iron Ring. He must hate Trehan so much.”

“After his trials, my mate might have . . . exiled himself. To the Plane of Lost Years.”

Mina gasped. “How long was he there?”

“He spent five centuries away from me.” Mirceo couldn’t hide his hurt. The demon had invaded all of his thoughts and dreams, but Caspion hadn’t even looked back.

Mirceo had half a mind to go see that place. If Caspion had stayed there so long, how bad could it truly have been?

“Five hundred years? Is he much changed?”

“I only spent a few moments with him—the blooding made me insane—but I suspect Caspion’s boyish charm has disappeared forever. He’s edgier and somehow . . . darker.” Yet no less attractive. Just the opposite.

“Oh, Mirceo, what will you do?”

“I’ll go to him tonight. Try to wear him down.” I, Mirceo Daciano, will run panting after another. How the worm had turned!

“Will you be true to him?”

“Utterly.”

She raised her brows.

“You doubt my faithfulness, sister? Just because I’ve never been monogamous before?” Mirceo let others believe that only his selfish need for conquests drove his appetites. Did he enjoy a good conquest? Of course; who didn’t? But his situation was more complicated than that.

He’d never woken beside a partner without an inexplicable anxiety overtaking him, the need to escape another’s clutches riding him.

Surely he wouldn’t feel panic after Caspion claimed him. Their connection would cure Mirceo of that. Fate wanted them together.

“Be good to my new brother.” Mina’s eyes were filled with sympathy. “He’s been through so much.”

“That’s why he needs me.” As the last members of the House of Castellan—the heart of the Dacian kingdom—Mirceo and Mina were tasked with safeguarding the castle and all those within it. Maybe the need to care for others had been ingrained in them.

Mirceo wanted to safeguard his new mate, to soothe the worry from his brow.

As Mirceo and Mina passed one of Dacia’s blood fountains, the scent reminded him. . . . “I drank from Caspion.” Most Dacians eschewed bloodtaking because they didn’t want anyone else’s recollections to interfere with their clear, cold minds. As predicted, Lothaire—their newly installed regent—had denounced the bloodtaking taboo. In fact, the mad king expected his subjects to drink from others. “I took straight from my mate’s neck.”