The Nymph King (Atlantis #3)(87)

Her eyes searched his face, probing. Whatever she saw in his expression must have comforted her because she gave him a slow smile and nodded. "You have my vow."

He breathed a sigh of relief and renewed joy. Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers. His hands searched for and found her own, and he intertwined their fingers before anchoring them above her head. This lifted her chest and meshed her breasts deeper into him. She licked her lips as her eyelids lowered.

"While you have seen only the bad side of love, I have seen the best. My mother and father were mated and completely devoted to each other."

"Where are they, your parents?"

"They died many years ago. My father died in battle and my mother's sadness took her not long after."

My God, Shaye thought. To be so devoted to someone you actually died without them. Simply lost the will to live. It was something out of a movie, yet a part of her she didn't want to acknowledge understood such devotion. She was frightened, and yet for the first time, utterly excited by the prospect.

"I'm sorry you lost them," she said softly.

"Uh-oh. You are showing your sweet side again."

She grinned. "How dare you say such a thing. I'm a hard-core bitch."

"And you hate the things I do to you."

"Hate them," she agreed with a laugh.

His breath tunneled into her ear, followed by his tongue. Her hands tangled in his hair as she trembled.

"Just like you hate me," he breathed.

She couldn't give him the words he wanted so she gave him these instead. "Yes," she whispered. "I hate you so very much."

"Good. Because I'm going to hate you until you can't imagine life without me."

Too late, her mind whispered as he slid into her.

LEAVING SHAYE ASLEEP in his bed - their bed, Valerian amended - was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Her soft, pale tresses tapered over the violet sheets, as ethereal as a dream. Her features were relaxed, the sandy length of her lashes casting shadows over her cheekbones. Her lips were plump and rosy from his kisses.

He'd already dressed, had hastily tugged on a black shirt and pants before he'd lost his resolve to leave. As leader of this palace, it was his duty to see to his guests. But more than that, he wanted to see to the palace's defenses and ensure they were well fortified, strong enough to withstand the most violent of attacks.

This peaceful reprieve the vampires had given them would not last long, he knew. Darius would be back. Valerian only hoped it would be later rather than sooner. The longer he had to solidify his bond with Shaye, the better.

He couldn't resist placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose - which proved to be a mistake. She muttered under her breath, an airy gurgling of unintelligible words. One of them might have been his name. He was suddenly rock hard for her, so aroused it was as if he'd never taken her. Leave. Now. Before you can't.

Forcing one foot in front of the other required all of his concentration. But he did it, his quick stride widening the distance. Now that Shaye had decided to stay, he knew she would begin to make his home her own, gifting it with little touches of her personality.

Flowers would most likely fill the rooms, and he would take great pleasure in procuring them for her. Paintings, colored stones, beaded pillows. He would take her into the city and purchase everything she wanted, everything she needed. All the things women used to make a home, well, a home. She would want for nothing, her every wish his to grant.

He was grinning as he entered the dining hall. Vampires surrounded the table. Most clutched goblets filled with some type of blood, he was sure. Several nymphs were here, though most were on duty and if not on duty, loving a woman. There were no females present.

Layel, who had claimed the head of the table, spotted him and motioned him over.

"Acting as king of the place, already?" Valerian said with a grin. He plopped onto the now-vacant spot beside his friend.

"Of course." Layel sipped at his goblet. "I don't think you've ever looked so sated, Valerian."

"Mated life agrees with me."

A curtain of sadness flittered over Layel's expression. "I remember it well, mated life."

Layel had lost his mate years ago. She'd been a human, descended from those the gods had banished from the surface and dropped into the city for punishment. A rogue group of dragons had raped and burned her. Not Darius, but a contingent of his tutor's men. It did not matter to Layel that Darius was innocent. The vampire king despised all dragons and wanted them destroyed.

Valerian recalled well the devastation Layel had endured when he'd discovered his lover's charred remains. His grief had been severe and gut-wrenching.

"The dragons have captured a group of nymph females," Valerian said, "and that is something I cannot allow."

"It would be my pleasure to retrieve them for you," the vampire king said with relish.

"No. I will not have your vampires go after them. I would like to send my own men, but if I do so, I will need to make up for the loss here."

"You wish us to remain?"

He nodded. "If you are able."

Layel didn't hesitate. "You need us, we stay. There is nothing more to discuss."

Layel had always been that way. Loyal. Giving of himself and his time. That was why Valerian valued his friendship as he did. There were not many men so willing to help a race other than their own.