Allyson James Tainted Pleasures

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TAINTED PLEASURES


By

Alyna Lachlan

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are

either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

TAINTED PLEASURES

Copyright (c) 2005 by ALYNA LACHLAN

ISBN: 1-59836-000-0

Cover art and design (c) 2005

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law.
Printed and bound in the United States of America.

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~One~

The Dark Ages

A time when evil in all its forms walked the land.

Through a darkened upper window, staring out into the night, a pair of glowing,

yellow eyes scanned the front lawn once more. She was near. Elayus was coming to him
at last.

Even though her figure could not yet be seen, Lysander, Lord of Doomore castle,

felt the beat of her heart. It rang with fear and rushed with apprehension, but she came.
What had driven her to his lair? Few crossed his land and those that did, quaked in their
shoes and wet their britches.

It did not matter. Only that she entered his home of her own free will, thus,

giving him complete power over her. A cloud parted and the moon's light passed across
his shadowy appearance in the window before the clouds swallowed the illumination
once again. A gust of air stroked his dark form, and he inhaled the crisp breeze.

"Closer." The word passed across his lips in a caress. His eyes closed for only a

moment as he sought her out with his thoughts.

She will depart from the trees to the left. He waited, holding his breath, his

muscles tightened, everything within him concentrated on that spot, until she slipped
from the woods surrounding the castle.

A rush of air fell in a sigh from the sinister figure before he backed away from the

window to disappear into the dim room beyond.

* * *

Elayus shivered as she approached the dark towers of Doomore. The red eyes of

the winged stone beasts followed her from the pointy eaves and turrets of the ancient
castle. The darkest shadows clung to the gray stone like charred vines, concealing what
evil lay inside. Even the rustling of the leaves chanted her doom in an eerie wail.

Everything within urged her to turn and flee, but she knew she could not. A

greater threat pressured her; the life of her younger sister. Carolyn would die if Elayus

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did not carry out the plan. There was her sick mother to think of as well. Here, she had a
chance to save them both.

The twelve-foot double doors stood black against the gray stone walls, like a

mouth open in mid scream. She hesitated for one breath before climbing the marble
stairs covered with dry leaves. A blast of wind scattered the brittle foliage across her
feet, like rats escaping a larger beast. She reached the door only to come face to face
with glowing red-jeweled eyes set in the twisted features of a gargoyles face. They
seemed to pulse in the moonlight with every beat of her heart, calling her to come closer.
Its iron jaws stood open in a snarl with fangs projected to catch the unwary. Her hand
clutched at her chest, feeling the need to protect her heart.

A shadow passed over the moon, and she felt a scream climb in her throat. She

could not do this. Terror ate a hole though her nerves, leaving them raw and bloody.

She was about to flee when one half of the double doors opened inwardly on well-

oiled hinges. The entrance stood empty.

The wind must have blown it open.
Far within the darkened hall, she spotted a warm glow from some room toward

the back of the castle. She became chilled; a shiver racked her body, a sudden
compulsion to find warmth inside moved her feet forward.

She stood before the threshold, her hands braced against the doorframe, but a hard

gust of wind, like an unseen hand, pushed her forward. Elayus stumbled into the deserted
hall.

As she righted herself, the slamming door caused her to scream and jump. Her

hand flattened over her pounding heart, trying to keep it from leaving her chest.

Trapped.
An eerie whisper of laughter echoed in the air over her head. She ran back to the

door, pulling and twisting the iron handle. A need to escape radiated through her, mixing
with terror, but she found the door locked or too heavy to move. Panic drove her. The
loud, fast, beat of her heart echoed in her ears.

Elayus flattened her back against the door's hard surface. "Who's there?" she

whispered to the shadows, clawing their way from wall to ceiling, but no answer came.

She sensed a presence, yet could see nothing but the beckoning light in a room,

which seemed too far to reach. It held some security from this oppressive darkness.
Grabbing up her skirts, she ran the length of the hall and into the room like the master of

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hell was giving chase. She imagined his claws reaching out from the shadows to rip the
soul from her body.

Elayus dashed through the doorway and into a fire-lit study. Again, the door

swung shut behind her, closing her in.

"I am not a mouse to be played with, Lord Doomore. Desist these games and face

me." Each word was forced out on an exhaled pant. She felt faint and could not get
enough air to her starving lungs. Her gaze swung back and forth, searching for his
presences as she backed up toward the hearth, keeping the shadows in front of her. A
sense of being trapped fell over her like a heavy cloak, smothering. What manner of man
was he?

Rumors in the village placed all manor of evil at his feet. No one would venture

here and those few who had, did not return. Now she would face this malevolence alone.

An unnatural calm poured over her thoughts to wash away the panic. That was so

unexpected, Elayus rubbed at her brow in confusion, before her arms became heavy and
sagged at her sides. A whisper passed across her hearing, and she gave up the last of her
resistance, to sink down on a large covered bench by the blazing fire. Though she
reclined close to the hearth, the unnatural warmth that stroked along her throat in a
feathery caress, had nothing to do with its heat. Unseen fingers combed through her hair,
sliding down her shoulder and across her breast. Pleasure mixed with apprehension as
her nipples hardened. She was helpless to resist in any way.

"Please," she begged. "Show yourself."
Golden eyes opened to glow in the dark shadows. A gaze she could not look

away from. They mesmerized with their heat, stealing her will and devouring her soul.
The rest of the man appeared as he stepped into the firelight. He stood compelling, a tall,
strong god of ancient myth. Long black hair fell over broad shoulders to rest inside the
open collar of his white shirt. His jaw was clenched, his straight nose, ending above tight
lips, but his eyes under angled brows held her attention. They radiated a glow that bound
her under his spell. They were hungry, intense, and unblinking. Heat traveled through
her body, a great desire to have him touch her overwhelmed her senses. She wanted him
to run his hands across her breasts. The need grew so forceful she wanted to cry out.

Pulling at the neck of her blouse, she felt several stitches give way. Her head fell

back, exposing her throat. He was doing this to her without even touching her. To be

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consumed by a desire she had never known before. Her eyes closed. She fought the
compulsion, yet could not stop herself from giving him what he wanted.

"Please!" Unsure if she asked to be freed or to be taken as she met his gaze again.
Her eyes held his as he moved to stand over her, all the fear and need revealed

upon her face. Lysander raised his hand and ran his fingers along the column of her
throat to feel the beat of her heart fast and strong. Then he slid his long middle finger,
over the rounded top of one breast, exposed above the shift. A shiver ran through her at
his touch, her hands clawing the fabric on the bench in restrained desire. The sound of
her heavy panting echoed around them.

Elayuswas strong mentally so he could not read her thoughts. Her sexual

response was pleasing but it was the existing barrier in her mind that concerned him.
Here stood his chance to break through that resistance and touch her mind completely.
Clarity would come with the taking of her blood, but he hesitated. She was different
from all the others he fed on. This was not a need for nourishment, but something more.
He had watched her from afar for many years. Only she had touched a place in his black
soul. She had given him kindness once, long ago, when he had lost all hope.

He ran his fingers over the soft skin of her breast. What had brought her here?
Again, that question came with no answer. He must know if she was in trouble,

or under the influence of another. Evil festered among these hills, slithering on its belly
to gain power or wealth. He would not have her purity of spirit sullied or abased by the
taint of violence.

His gaze ran over her shapely form. How many nights had he dreamed of Elayus

just like this, offering herself to him? He smelled her arousal, along with her fear, and his
body hardened in response. To taste her, if only once, might save her life at some point.
He would always have a connection, a bond, so if she needed him he would be there.
That was the only reason he would touch her this night. Then he would let her go. She
could not be his. She was human. He was a man of shadows, without hope, without a
place in time. Darkness remained his home where hers was the light.

"Why have you come to me, Lady of Light?" He sat down beside her and ran his

fingers into the hair along her temple, unable to keep from touching her. The silk of her
hair, warm and heavy, glided across his palm to drape about her shoulders in onyx waves.
His hand slid behind her neck, pulling her closer so he could see every detail of her face.

"I was forced to come. I must save my sister."

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One brow rose. "Who sent you?"
She frowned slightly. "I...I." Her teeth wore at her bottom lip. Panic rose in her

again. It poured from her cells as she struggled with the question. No doubt, she had
been threatened and warned not to say anything.

He smoothed a thumb along the column of her pale throat and watched her

swallow.

"Let it go, my lady. The answer is not important. Know only pleasure." He

noticed the wrinkle of her brow ease and her teeth unclench. "A calm will loosen your
limbs and your eyes will grow heavy. I will see to all things. No harm will befall you
while I stand guard. Give yourself into my keeping." His voice low, compelling,
hypnotizing.

Her shoulders rounded slightly and her head again fell back, exposing the pale

flesh of her throat. The beat of her heart pulsed with life. He could hear the rush and ebb
of blood in her veins. Lysander's fangs lengthened, as a need for her grew ravenous. She
became his salvation, a beacon of light, warmth to chase away the cold. He would have
her, if only this once, a memory to hold for eternity. He pulled her into his arms and
nuzzled at her neck, inhaling. She smelled like a meadow of wild flowers, gentle,
earthly, and sweet. Elayus was life and warmth. He slid his lips along the softness of her
throat and down to the curve of her breasts.

A soft moan fell from her parted lips, as her arms came up to gather in his hair,

holding his head to her.

That small act brought out the overwhelming hunger he kept chained within, the

possessive male. She was his! Only his!

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~Two~



Lysander closed his eyes, savoring Elayus as he scrapped his fangs against the

pulse of her throat once again, striving for control. Her neck was warm satin beneath his
stroking fingers. The gentle fragrance of her skin brought a need so strong, he felt his
hold tighten, his body harden and strain with anticipation. He pulled her into the shelter
of his body and heart. He wanted more than a taste of her, he wanted a joining of body,
of soul, to have her warm heat surround him, giving a comfort he had not felt in
centuries. Running his tongue along the inner curve of her slender throat and shoulder to
the swell of her breast, he heard her moan, her body shivered.

"Please, take of me. I give myself to you." Her words were seductive.
He moaned. She was under his compulsion, but at this moment, it did not matter.
Lysander bent his head to kiss her soft skin just above her hidden nipple then his

body tightened and he sank his teeth deep into the flesh of her breast.

Instantly everything changed for him for all eternity. The ground shifted and a

surge of intense pleasure ran along his body in waves. Here existed the heaven he had
been denied.

She gasped, clenching at him as her warm sweet blood fell over his tongue. The

taste of her was addictive. He gloried in the elixir that awoke every cell in his body. Her
thoughts and emotions broke over him in waves and the sensation was more than he was
ready to handle. Having been alone for so long, his world had darkened, but now, she
had brought the light and his eyes were opened to bask on her glory.

The beast within stirred, growing, needing to make her truly one with him, yet

Lysander fought for restraint. If he made love to her, it would be because she wished it.
He would not have the gift of their union tainted by compulsion, by the need rushing
through him alone. They would join when both of them wished it.

He knew he must stop before it was too late. Jerking his head back, he broke

away with a cry of pain and loss. He bowed his head, pressing his forehead to the curve

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of her breast, closing the tiny wounds with his tongue. He rested there, breathing heavily
and giving himself a moment to recover. Two small holes darkened a spot on her left
breast but no other damage had been done. They would fade and disappear in an hour or
two, leaving no evidence he had been there. That knowledge brought regret for the first
time. He felt possessive seeing his mark upon her flesh. But only with the ritual of souls
would she carry the permanent mark of their joining, as would he from her soft lips. His
gaze moved to the rose hue of her parted lips.

The rhythm of her heartbeat rang strong and steady. Good. He had not taken too

much. He was in tuned to her every breath, her every sigh for he carried her within his
veins and heart.

As Elayus lay quietly, the dark half moons of her lashes fanned across her pale

cheeks, he merged into her thoughts. There he found what he already knew. She was
compassionate, mischievous, and full of love for those around her. Single-handedly,
when in her youth, she had cared for her younger sister as their mother worked. She
struggled to help her mother and stayed by her bed when she had sickened. Elayus was
warm hearted, and kind, everything he as a predator, a warrior of the night, could not be.

Lysander pushed deeper into her thoughts and there he found the face of the man

who had forced her to seek him out this night. Drieffous, the Earl of Creedville, was a
black robed sorcerer who used the powers of all hell. He had become a power-hungry
evil that Lysander had encountered many times in the past. With each meeting,
Drieffous' strength grew, more versed in the dark arts. Few had the power to challenge
him. None dared to try.

The bastard had always felt he had a reason to seek revenge. Now he thought to

use Elayus and her sister to get what he wanted. Lysander could not allow her to be a
pawn in this game of power. He was ruthless enough to know that if Drieffous had used
any other woman, Lysander would not have lifted a finger because the stakes were too
high. But...the rules had changed.

Elayus stirred with a moan then shifted her hips on the bench before opening her

eyes. As the flickering of the firelight danced before her gaze, fragments of a dream,
warm, and pleasurable, clouded her thoughts. The face above hers defined temptation,
strong, and commanding. Her hand came up lazily to run along his smooth jaw.

The heart within her breast stirred, a sense of knowing him flitted like wings of a

butterfly across her memories before dissolving into mist. As her senses cleared, she

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became aware of what she was doing and jerked her hand away. She tried to sit up, her
eyes wide, but Lord Doomore was leaning over her, preventing it.

"What happened?" she tossed her hair back from her face, a nervous habit. She

glanced everywhere but at him.

The large room had wall-to-wall shelves holding artifacts and a few prized books,

ancient swords with jewel-crusted handles, marble pillars with goddesses posed forever
in alabaster. A red velvet covered bench and chairs sat near the fire, a candle chandelier
hung from a center beam in the ceiling. Tapestries of bright landscapes, and a warrior's
shield of years past occupied every empty space over the gray stone walls. On the
mantle, a gold chest, and chalices with silver candlesticks sat glittering in the firelight.
The wealth she beheld surpassed her comprehension. Even on the floor were wooden
inlays and oriental rugs.

Surely, he could afford to give Lord Creedville whatever he wanted for the return

of her sister, but would he? Her gaze came back to him, meeting the direct stare of those
golden eyes and she felt naked before their probing depths.

"You fainted. 'Twas no doubt the fright I gave you." He stood up and stepped

back. A tightening of his jaw gave warning he was displeased by something she had
done. Not knowing what it was, she felt the need to defend herself.

"You should not leap out at a person." She smoothed her skirts then tried to make

her blouse presentable only to notice it gapped from broken threads. A frown lowered
one brow. She had not spotted that before. Her clothing was not the height of fashion,
but she made every effort to be clean and neat at all times.

He bowed at the waist. "I beg your forgiveness. 'Tis not every night that I have

someone enter my home unannounced, in the early hours before dawn. And so beautiful
a woman at that."

Elayus felt heat spread over her cheeks as she met his gaze. "Nay, 'tis I who beg

your pardon. I do not remember some of what happened."

Flames danced behind his dark golden eyes and she felt a shiver of fear run along

the back of her neck. He acted chivalrous with courtly manners and had been courteous,
yet a sense of danger surrounded him, like a predator slowly stalking his prey. One
misstep would see her devoured.

"No harm done." He poured wine from a jewel-encrusted pitcher into a golden

chalice then walked back, handing it to her.

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"Thank you. It would seem I am in need of wine. I feel a bit weak."
As she took the stemmed glass, his fingers brushed hers and she caught her

breath. She had never reacted to a man the way she did with him. Mayhap the room was
over warm. Taking a long swallow of the liquid, Elayus tried to bring her wayward
emotions under control. She flirted with danger. When she lowered the glass, she
noticed the lopsided grin on his lips.

"Would you like to tell me why you came?" he asked.
"I—I need your help and am willing to pay in gold." There was no sense in

dancing around what she needed. She had little time to see her sister safe and she could
not allow this man to intimidate her or seduce her with those deeply compelling eyes.
She had to work hard at keeping her actions natural and unhurried. And by the gods, she
did not want him to know he affected her where other men had not.

She stood quickly to add more space between them, then felt the room tilt. Black

spots danced before her eyes. As she reached out to grab a chair for support, Elayus'
world went dark, and she was falling.

Lysander caught her as she fainted. The chalice of liquid clattered and splashed

across the tiled floor, as she went limp.

"Be damn!"
A frown narrowed his gaze. He had taken more blood than he thought. Her heart

had been racing when he took the essence from her veins, and wrongly, he assumed it
was because of the attraction.

Putting an arm behind her knees, he picked her up, pulling her tight against his

chest, her frame petite and light in weight. He wondered if she had been eating enough.

Then a new problem surfaced. What should he do with her? It would be unsafe

to have her under the same roof, because she was too much of a temptation, not to
mention he had a dark past he wanted to hide. But what else could he do? It would be
unfair to abandon her and he knew he could never do that. Over the years as he watched
her grow into a woman, she had become a part of him. He had gotten too close to her
warmth and had no wish to crawl back into his cold loneliness. Besides, he was the cause
of her current state. And thusly, it became his duty to see to her welfare until he dealt
with Drieffous.

He could exchange blood with her to give her strength, but flatly refused that idea.

He would not take from her the life she knew, condemning her to an existence like his.

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To always be at the mercy of those who would try to kill her, and those who wished to
become like him. Power and greed drove people to any length to obtain immortality.

Elayus was pure, one of the light. To condemn her to his world would surely

destroy her. She would be all right come tomorrow eve.

With quick, sure strides, he carried her within the protective curve of his shoulder

as he ascended the stairs and passed into one of the many bedrooms. Moving to the bed,
he laid her gently across cool linens.

Lysander sat on the bed's edge wanting to stay, needing to be close to her. Elayus'

hair fanned out over the pillow and he leaned forward, pushing a long wave of dark curls
from her cheek to rest behind her ear.

She did not recognize him. That was as it should be yet he couldn't help being

disappointed. He had watched her grow since that day more than sixteen years ago, when
she first touched his black soul and caused it to grow warm.

Elayus had been a child of seven, coming into the village to sweep the floor of a

one-room tavern before the sun came up. That was before her mother had married a
dying Count and secured a good future.

The child found him slumped against the outside wall stabbed and weak from loss

of blood. Having grown tired of fighting those creatures that preyed on humans, after
centuries of it; he sat clenching his side. The pain became a red vortex, sucking him into
a pit of eternal darkness, as he waited for the dawn's light to take him. He leaned his
head back with eyes closed, laboring for breath. The birds were wakening, the air crisp,
and fresh, like spring after a long winter. Life stirred, readying for a new day.

Then an angel appeared against the tavern's rough wood wall, placing a gentle

hand on his shoulder and stooping down beside him. Elayus' young, soft, clear, voice
broke through the haze of pain to awaken his heart. He opened his eyes to a radiant
smile, and honest blue eyes, framed by thick black lashes.

"Can I find you a place to rest sir? A place of comfort?" Her head tilted to one

side as her gaze ran over him. "You are hurt. Let me find you aid."

Early morning mist thickened to swirl around their feet and waists, a mythical

dance to conceal and protect them, while they spoke.

"I fear I am too weak. I will breathe my last here, Lady of Light."

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"Nay, sir. You will not. I have not much but my bed is clean. Come, I will help

you." She took his hand and pulled with her small strength to help him up. He sighed,
not having the will to send her away, thus killing the sparkle in her concerned eyes.

"You are all that is kind, young one. Few would offer help to a stranger in the

streets."

Still holding his large hand in her smaller one, Elayus tried to peer through the

thickening clouds of mist to see across the dirt road. "You have a good heart. I can tell."

That made him stumble. "I have no heart." He frowned.
She glanced back toward him, having decided no horse or cart was coming, she

continued to pull his arm as they crossed to the opposite side.

"Aye, you do. 'Tis a warrior's heart, one we all have need of. You keep the

monsters at bay, just like the ancient trees gives us shelter, and the guardian stones
protect our passage to the gods."

He stopped and she turned to face him fully, her head tilted to one side, waiting.
"You are wise beyond your tender years, Gentle Lady. You have given me what I

needed, hope, and a reason to go on fighting evil. I pray you never lose your gift of
seeing the heart's true spirit."

He straightened, bowed to her, like a gentleman to a lady, placing a hand against

his injured side. "Go to work, little one. I would not be the cause of the owner's ill will,
placed on your head. You are gifted by the gods and are needed in these dark times."

"Will you be all right then?"
"Aye, you have seen to that."
She smiled and turned back to the tavern.
"Never forget to use your gift, child. It may save your life one day." He watched

her wave and disappear through the swinging doors. The mist swirled in to conceal her
path.

Now glancing down on the woman sleeping in his bed, Lysander saw the child

beneath the beautiful woman, but her gift lie buried under life's trials. His Lady of Light
huddled in one corner of this woman's mind and must be freed.

The fates had brought her to him in need. Lord Drieffous was human and

nurtured a vendetta, but Lysander felt a darkness or something more behind what he
could read in Elayus' mind.

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Drieffous dabbled in the dark arts, in powers he had no full knowledge of. He

was a dangerous man; one Lysander knew would be a threat if caught off guard.

Until Elayus chose to trust him with all she knew, he could not make a move. He

did not want her to know he could read her thoughts. He wanted her to come to him of
her own accord.

He placed a powerful command for her to sleep until the sunset came once more.

He must make sure she could not escape while he slept. Her life depended on his careful
movements. He must not make a mistake. If he did, Drieffous would find fault and use it
to his advantage. With a powerful spell, Lysander sealed every exit, every window to
safeguard them from anything that wished to enter as they slept. He would take no
chances with Elayus' life. No human or creature would be able to break into his home.

Standing, he took a long last look at Elayus before waving a hand. A blanket slid

up to cover her body as he left the room, securing the door.

* * *

Drieffous, the Earl of Creedville sat slumped in a tall backed chair in front of the

fire. He twisted the silver chalice by its stem as it rested on the arm of his chair, the gems
on its sides throwing multicolored sparkles on the gray stone walls. A frown marred his
brow as a chill, like evil stepping on his grave, ran along his spine. It would seem his
dark visitor returned. He waited for the wraith to speak. The voice came from the
darkness near his unshuttered window off to his left.

"The plan is in place."
"She's in his keep then?" Drieffous asked, not turning around, knowing his visitor

would not reveal himself.

"Aye, and the sun is rising. She will stay there through the day. If the Dark

Prince hasn't drained her of blood and tossed her carcass to the wolves, we will no doubt
hear from your friend tonight." A pause hung loudly about the room, making Drieffous
wonder if the beast had left.

"How is the other?" The dry grainy voice asked, yet there was no emotion

reflected.

Drieffous pinched his nose. Mayhap it was the creature's morbid curiosity of the

woman that caused it to ask that question. But that would imply he had one.

"She did nothing but scream and bang on the door for hours." He sneered.

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Drieffous raised his glass in salute then downed the ruby liquid, feeling the

familiar burn along his sore throat. It brought on a coughing fit, one he had grown
accustomed too. He covered his mouth with his sleeve, clearing his throat before
lowering his arm and speaking again. "Why do you not use the door like any other
civilized person?"

A hiss came from the darkened corner. "Never think that I am civilized. 'Twould

be a deadly mistake."

Chills raked Drieffous' flesh. The creature brought a shudder to creep along his

spine, but he needed the beast to see his plan succeed. Lysander would soon give in and
see it his way or hell would open its gates and swallow Lord Doomore.

"You push this cloak and dagger stuff too far. I do not need someone from the

courtyard below seeing you scale the walls of my castle. There is talk already of my
passion for dark powers. What next?" He rubbed at his jaw and eyes, hoping to chase
sleep from them until he could seek his bed.

"The Dark Prince will seek you out this eve."
"Are you sure?" Drieffous sat up.
A growl brought goose flesh along his arms.
"Fear not, Master. You will reap the evil you desire."

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~Three~



Lysander spoke and the candles lit on the bedside tables. With a wave of his

hand, the fire blazed to life in the cold grate, bringing a warm glow to the darkening
room. The sky through the windows glowed rose and violet as the sun disappeared below
the horizon. But the beauty that slept in the large four-poster bed held his attention. He
reclined his shoulder against the doorframe in the shadows as his gaze slid over her form.

Elayus lay on her back, her head turned toward him, pillowed by one hand. The

other hand rested over her heart, as if holding a treasure, one he desired above all things.
One leg was bent, and tangled in the coverings, baring the other long smooth leg. Her
hair fanned across her neck and breast, a shield of black silk. Using the power of his
mind, he moved the blanket off by slow degrees. Her breast would overflow his hand; a
size to please any man. Her waist was small, indented; her belly and hips rounded
slightly, a place to lay his head, if the gods were kind to grant it.

She was a pleasure. The very air he breathed. Images of him exploring her

warmth, her curves, with hands and mouth, caused hard desire to quicken his blood. His
need for her grew with each hour that passed. Her soft scent wrapped itself around his
thoughts. He wished to sweep Elayus into another world, one of passion and exotic
fantasies. One she would never dare to dream with him because her life revolved around
caring for her family.

Lysander shook his head. He had many enemies, a different breed from her, vile,

insidious creatures.

He sighed. He regretted the difference between them for the first time. However,

these feelings did not solve the problem he now faced. Only Elayus could explain. It
was time to waken her. He gave the command. "Elayus. Awaken and seek me out."

Elayus awoke to the scent of him, warm and spicy. Flickering candlelight

caressed the room in warm shades, but the knowledge that he stood near heated her
insides. He surrounded her with his dark presents.

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Glancing toward the door, she spotted him leaning on his shoulder against the

shadowy doorframe, his feet crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
He stood taller than any man she had met. Confidence and power emanated from him
and he wore it well. A quiet strength rested in the strong features of his face, yet there
was the underlying stealth of a predator.

Again, those mesmerizing golden eyes held hers. They were hungry, lonely,

impossible to resist. They pulled at something deep within. Mysterious secrets were
locked behind those extraordinary eyes. He had seen too much of life's woes and not
enough of its pleasures. And by the gods, she needed to show him how to laugh.

Elayus wanted to fall into his arms to feel the comfort of his embrace, but the

thought of abandoning herself to this stranger was frightening. Too many stories of this
dark lord and his deadly powers still pulsed with life in a corner of her mind. But those
eyes? Did he have any idea what that gaze could do to a woman's heart, her belly and
lower? It was as if he had always been inside of her, waiting until she awoke from a long
dream.

"Did you sleep well?" His rich voice brought a shiver along the back of her neck

and her breasts tightened, causing small discomfort.

She shifted slightly before answering. "Aye, I feel well rested. It was the best

sleep I've had in quite a while. Strange that."

"Why?"
"It should not have been with this trouble on my shoulders, and I am in a strange

manor, a strange bed."

Elayus pushed up to sit in the bed, her gaze swinging toward the window. Had

night fallen again or was it still just before dawn? She was slightly disoriented, but
became acutely aware of him moving toward her, slowly like an animal stalking his prey.
Elayus refused to look his way, trying to keep some control over her erratic emotions, yet
her heart beat faster, sensing danger.

"What time is it?"
"Just after sunset." His voice a whispered caress.
She gasped, smothering the impressions in her thoughts to glance toward him. He

now stood close to the bed. "I slept the day away?"

"You needed it."

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Lysander pulled a chair over to the bed's edge, facing her as he sat down.

Leaning back against the chair, he stretched his legs out in front of him. Both arms lay
on the chair's pillowed rests with one hand dangling across his lap.

"I believe, Elayus, that we have much to discuss."
The impression of a commanding hunter, cornering her was alarming. His gaze

feeding on every move, breath, and beat of her heart. "I am at a disadvantage it would
seem, for I do not know your given name or what position you hold at this keep. I must
speak to Lord Doomore and no one else."

His expression never changed, yet he went completely still as if her request

brought raging disappointment.

"Then you will speak to me. You may call me Lysander—and--you know who I

am." His voice became deeper, drawing out each word. He did not blink, his gaze
straight and intense, watching her. She thought she saw flames heating the golden amber
of his eyes. They hypnotized, anchoring her to him.

She raised her brow. Aye, somehow she knew his name. It had crawled out into

the light, bringing remembered happiness and s sense of security. But how?

"Now tell me why you came. You will speak the truth for I will know if you lie.

And that will not help you."

Elayus pulled her gaze from his to hide her thoughts. She struggled to understand

exactly what it was about him that she found intimidating. At times, he seemed more
predator than human yet he had treated her with warmth and hospitality. He was no
monster like the villagers had cried.

Somehow, she sensed he would know the truth when she spoke it, and she did

need his help. The thought of him getting hurt because of her and the scheming, greedy,
Lord Creedville, squeezed at her heart. It was not in her to hurt one person to save
another, even to protect her sister. If he refused to help, she would find another way.
First, she would have to trust him and found, for some odd reason, she already did. If
anyone could go up against Creedville and win, Lysander could. Elayus felt it deep
within.

"They have a trap set for you. Forgive me. I must save my sister, but will not

harm you to see it done." After that confession, she raised her head to meet his gaze,
expecting to face his anger.

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Instead, Lysander sensuous lips tilted in a lopsided smile as if she had pleased

him. "I had no doubt of that."

"You know this? How?"
He sat forward propping one elbow on a knee, the other fist planted on his hip.
"I am a wealthy man, Elayus, with many enemies. I get few visitors. You

showing up and entering my home in the dark of night told me mischief was afoot. Now
tell me, who sent you, what they want, and how your sister is involved?"

She sighed. "Will you still help me?"
"We will see."
She turned to face him fully, bending her legs to one side and pulling her skirt

down to cover them, very aware that Lysander watched her every move. Adjusting her
sleeve, pushing her hair back and running her hand down her throat, smoothing a wrinkle
in her skirt, she found herself making moves just to pull his gaze to her repeatedly.

When his warm gaze fell on her, he made her feel beautiful in a way no other man

had. It was strange, this mixture of fear and attraction. She could sense his power, and
darkness cloaked him like a second skin, yet a small part of her knew he would not hurt
her.

"You are frowning. Do you fear I will harm you if you share everything with

me?"

"Oh nay. I know you will not hurt me." Her eyes widened, and she covered her

mouth with her hand. She had not meant for that to slip out.

Lysander raised one brow, but said nothing. His gaze lingered on her lips as she

dropped her hand into her lap.

"The Earl of Creedville has taken my sister, Carolyn. I believe she is being held

somewhere within his castle. There is something evil and twisted about him. 'Tis a
feeling only, but he is determined to have something you hold. He told me he would
torture my sister and I, giving me explicate details as to how, if I could not keep you from
refusing his request. Do you know what he wants?"

Lysander leaned back against the chair, making a tent with his fingers and tapping

them against the point on his chin. His jaw was clenched, his lips tight. The flames in
his gaze flickered red. His features became menacing. A shiver coursed along Elayus'
spine as if the room had suddenly turned cold.

"Aye, I fear I do."

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"What?"
His gaze sharpened on hers and she wondered if he was trying to see into her

thoughts. An involuntary shudder racked her body.

"Do not look at me that way, my lord. 'Tis my life and my sister's that is

threatened. I think I have a right to know what our lives are worth. If you know what it
is, give it to him, please. Wealth is wonderful, but it is not worth a life, any life."

"Nothing is worth what he seeks. If it were gold or jewels, I would give it to him

gladly, to keep you safe. The item he wants can damn thousands of human lives if I place
it in his hands. I will not give it to him at any price."

His final words opened a hole within her chest. If he would not help, what could

she do? He leaned toward her, taking her hand, his face came close to hers, so she could
see the heat glowing behind his intense gaze. "I will try to save your sister, but it comes
with a price."

The spicy scent of him was enticing. Elayus caught herself leaning toward him.
"I will pay what you ask." Her heart stuttered, the beat grew faster, as she waited

for his demand. What would he ask for? Could she get it in time? She learned at an
early age that nothing came free and money opened many locks.

Lysander shook his head at all the things running through that pretty head.
"Elayus."
She blinked. "Aye?"
"I will have you."
"What?" His request made funny things happen to her stomach. His gaze left

nothing for her to wonder about. Those golden orbs burned hungrily as they ran over her
breasts down to her waist then back to meet her gaze.

"You will be the payment. You will stay with me until I have settled this matter

with Drieffous."

"As your servant?"
"Let me make things clear so there is no doubt what I ask. I will have the use of

your body. You will obey my every wish. Do you understand all that I ask?"

He waited for her reply. If she even hinted at saying nay, he would force her to

say aye. Once she had told him why Drieffous wanted her, he knew the danger to her life
was very real. Even if she carried out Drieffous plan in detail, he would dispose of her in

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the end. She was a liability, a loose tongue that could bring the king down on Drieffous'
head. The man was many things but a fool was not among them.

Keeping Elayus with him was the only way to protect her. Drieffous would stop

at nothing to get what he wanted and Lysander would never let him have it. But there
existed another reason to keep her, one he would not admit to himself.

"You wish me to be your leman?"
"I care not for that term. You are more to me than that. My lady is more to my

liking. Do not appear so shocked. You are pleasing to my eyes and we get along well
together."

"You are a lord and in your right to ask this of a single woman of low birth. I am

shocked only because you find me pleasing. I am not such a good bargain, my Lord. I
am rebellious, head strong, misshapen—with work roughened skin—"

That one caused, Lysander to raise a brow and run his gaze over her body again.
"Not that I can see."
Her cheeks burned and she glanced at her lap, her fingers twisting together.

"Nevertheless, I am also willful, without social graces—"

His warm index finger rested over her lips, stopping the flow of words and

bringing her gaze up to his.

"You sound as if you are reading a list some straight-nosed priest gave you.

Druids would find you worthy of worship as would I for your heart is pure, your soul
compassionate. You carry yourself with gentle grace and have the strength of a
crusader."

Lysander ran his finger over her full pouty lower lip. It was slippery, warm,

plump, a ripe berry to be savored. When she timidly kissed his finger, surrounding it
with their moist heat, he thought he would throw her down on the bed and feast upon
them. But he leaned away, removing his finger.

"I know what I am getting." His voice sounded husky.
The craving severe, the need for her twisted his belly and hardened his groin

painfully. He used all the powers that he possessed to remain in control. He must have
her consent before taking her. A silent groan moved within his chest.

"I will be yours until you see that all is safe."

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Her answer brought a peace over him. By her own lips, she had agreed to be his.

The tightening in his gut eased. He would have her and soon. His need of her was too
great to put off for long.

"I must go out for awhile this eve. You will be safe here. Open no window, or

door to anyone. Not even if it sounds like me. The night air can play tricks on the
unwary." Again, he slid his finger across her lips down her throat to circle a nipple
showing under the linen blouse. It hardened in response and she inhaled sharply. Her
voice grew breathy.

"Aye. I remember strange things happening last night yet they could have been

dreams. My thoughts are still hazy."

Lysander glanced away, removing his hand, not wanting her to divulge to deep

into that subject. Not yet.

"Make yourself welcome. I will see all is locked and secure before I go. There is

food set out for you downstairs in my study."

"You are most kind, sir. Your heart is good."
Elayus' words startled him. She had said them once before when she was a child.

Could she be tapping into her gift? Now was when she needed it the most.

Standing, he took her hand, kissing the back. His lips lingered over-long on the

smooth ivory flesh, so soft. He released her and walked from the room.

Lysander spoke a spell, waving his hand right then left, making sure all windows,

all entries, and all doors were sealed. The safe guards must be the best he could make
them. When he refused Drieffous request, he would send someone or some thing after
Elayus.

The man never made idle threats. The bastard must have discovered that Elayus

meant something special to him. Lysander worried that over the years of watching her,
he may have let his guard down, showing his emotions. Drieffous had been there to
notice. That being the only reason that explained why she was used in this deadly game
and not some other person. Drieffous always played to win. But Lysander never lost.

As he walked through the front door, he sealed it with a strong spell, weaving a

trap for the unwary, then in two long strides leaped into the air, his form changing into a
large bird of prey. He lifted himself higher with each powerful flap of his giant wings
until he soared high above the trees. The night sky was clear and the moon full, giving
the trees and hills below a silvery veil. The night air blew cool and carried the hint of

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heather. Mist hung like fine lace over the mirrored surface of a lake, dancing and
changing pattern with each brush of the wind. The village torches and candlelight
through open windows shone like a beacon on the horizon, yet he turned away, heading
toward a dark path.

Drieffous was expecting him, and as any lord of the realm, Lysander kept his

appointments even if held with the enemy. If he had lips, he would have sneered at the
idea that Lord Creedville had any manners.

Drieffous with all his minions, dark power, and wealth, was still mortal. That was

his cross to bear. And no matter how hard he tried for immortality, Lysander would not
give him that prize. But, the longer he refused the more desperate, Drieffous became.

Lysander knew well how dangerous the man had become. He must show extreme

care. He had Elayus' life in his hands. He must not underestimate Creedville's crafty
power. The man would not fight fairly.

Landing on a branch close to Drieffous' castle wall, Lysander searched outside

himself, looking for any danger, sensing any unnatural disturbances. His keen birds eyes
took in everything that moved, be it person, or the mouse that disappeared through a hole
in the stable wall. The grounds were quiet, too quiet. No guards stood posted around the
keep. Another sign Drieffous was expecting him.

Lysander felt the presence of evil, its eyes in the night, its touch on the place. But

he could not define the exact point of origin.

A bird took flight from the roof. Its flapping wings drawing his gaze but nothing

else moved. Giant stone gargoyles stood at every corner and four turrets could be seen
on this side of the castle. A shadow passed across one second-story window and he
sharpened his gaze on that point. Drieffous.

The faint glow of firelight from the window beckoned like an easy treat.

Lysander dared not enter that way. He needed to find an unlocked shutter on a window
in a darkened room.

The bird dissolved, shimmering into a vaporous cloud. Lysander moved in a

stream of mist, undetected from window to window until he found one on the third floor
unlocked. He entered the cold keep, hugging the barren stone walls. There were no
torches to light his way, but he did not need them. He was a creature of the night and saw
everything in detail. The predator in him was filled with the fever of the hunt. All his

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senses sharpened. Drieffous' heart pumped fast with adrenaline just beyond the next
door.

He was alone. Lysander could not detect another heartbeat. With the ease of

smoke, Lysander slipped under the door, to hover above the room, searching for unseen
traps. Drieffous sat at this desk with his back to the hearths fire. He faced the door and
windows, waiting for him.

An instant wave of anticipation emanated from Drieffous. So, he knew of his

presence. Lysander pulled himself together, his shape forming to appear before his
enemy. His gaze narrowed, alert.

"Why have you summoned me, Drieffous?"
The man behind the desk raised his head. His eyes dark and menacing.
"Lysander...my old friend. Welcome." A sly smile pulled at his lips.

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~Four~



"I do not believe I sent my squire with an invitation." Drieffous argued, sitting

back in his chair.

"Oh, but you did send an invitation." Lysander tilted his head slightly his whole

focus on the man before him. "She even now rests in wait of me. Now, where is the
other?"

"Whom are you referring to?"
"Carolyn, the sister to my guest."
"Is that her name?"
"Enough!" Lysander's voice hardened. "I will have her now." He was not here to

play games. The longer he took paring words with Drieffous, the more he felt the oily
presence of evil closing in.

Drieffous leaned forward his gaze narrowed, a glint of malevolence creeping

across his dark gaze. "Did you think it would be that easy?"

He spoiled his threat by coughing, a gurgling rasp that caused him to choke.

Grabbing the mug on his desk, he took large swallows of a thick brown liquid before
wiping his mouth on his sleeve and met Lysander's gaze again.

"I see that evil is festering within, Drieffous. 'Tis a price one pays for its

malevolent powers."

"It would not if you would give me immortality. I seek only a small amount of

your blood, and I will grant you the girl."

"You know I will not. So why do you persist?"
A dark shadow crept slowly across Drieffous features. A thick foul stench

invaded the air around them.

"I will have it." Drieffous' voice lowered and the swift shift of his black gaze was

Lysander's only warning.

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Someone from behind grabbed him, throwing him up against the wall, pinning

him there. The dark cloaked figure was strong, his grasp painful. Dagger like talons dug
into his arms. Lysander felt his muscles strain, his bones grind together under the
minion's grip. Lysander gritted his teeth and grabbed the creature's arms, trying to break
free but it did not budge. This creature from hell stood like a statue, holding him above
the floor, flattened against the wall. Trying to shape shift, Lysander found the minion
had somehow taken away his ability. Whatever the creature was, it was not human or
vampire. Its cold, hard, flesh sucked the warmth from where it touched. It had no soul,
no blood. He tried peering under the hood so he might mesmerize it, but found nothing
but darkness, no heartbeat, not even a glow from its eyes.

Lysander glanced toward Drieffous and saw him talking to another cloaked figure

before it nodded and left through the window.

Elayus! The bastard had sent one of these things after Elayus. Would his

safeguards hold against those creatures?

Thunder rumbled outside in tune with his anger. The forces of the night moved to

his command. Rage rose up, smothering him. It constricted his chest. No harm must
come to her. The destroyer within him swelled, power sizzled through his blood. She
was his.

He channeled his anger and fear, becoming the silent beast, the dark and deadly

creature of bard fables. He would be unswerving in his need to protect his Lady of Light.
That was where Drieffous had made his error.

Lysander's struggles became more refined, trying to distract his attacker as he

built an electrical charge outside with the storm. He relaxed, waiting for the right
moment, when the minion would loosen his hold, then in a breath of time, he directed the
bolt of lightning like a thin whip through the window to hit the creature, breaking his
hold. Lysander dissolved into vapor and escaped its hold. The flash of white lightning
caused the creature to jerk and stumble but it did not fall. The thing shrieked a hideous
sound. It turned seeking him but Lysander wouldn't be caught twice. The minion's roar,
deep and menacing, shook the walls as its cloak caught fire then the flames leapt to the
curtains.

Drieffous screamed at the soulless one to leave the house, throwing a large vase

of water on the blazing velvet as his chanted words echoed through the room in a spell.

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Lysander felt a sharp ripping pain at his side before disappearing through the

window. The curtains crashed to the floor behind him. The flames grew higher. His
only concern as he took to the air, was Elayus.

Once again a bird of prey, he crossed the turbulent night sky with incredible

speed. The blast of the storm buffed him; lightning sizzled and snapped about him. His
fear and rage drove the storm to its fury. The whine of the cold wind, screamed like
banshees foretelling of doom.

The rolling black clouds let loose their rain just as he shifted to his human form to

land on the front porch. He spoke a few words and waved away the spell sealing the
front door. It opened before him then closed after he entered, moving to the master's
wish. Even the ground trembled in the wake of Lysander's dark emotions.

All his senses were focused on finding Elayus even as he resealed the door. A

soft sound like leather sliding against wood came from his study. He did not break stride
as he turned in that direction.

Elayus had just pulled a leather bound book from the shelf when Lysander's large

presence filled the doorway. A frown marred his brow and his hair was rain soaked. He
moved toward her stealthy, sighting his prey, silently, aggressively, with a single
propose.

She flattened her palm over her rapidly beating heart, the book forgotten in her

hand. "Lysander?"

As he advanced, she put out her hand to stop him, but it did not detour his

approach. He grabbed her around the waist, pressing her against the shelves with his
body. His lips taking hers in a hunger fed by fear and anger.

She stiffened at first, surprised by his actions but soon the warmth of him; the

taste of him carried all else from her thoughts. His hunger fed her own. She dropped the
book and raised her hands to feather them in the hair on both sides of his head, clutching
at him.

He moaned and pulled her tighter against his chest, pressing her breasts against

him. One of his hands ran down to cup her bottom, bringing her in so she could feel the
hard evidence of his need.

Elayus gloried in cradling him between her legs. Her lips communed with his,

feeding, sucking, tasting. He smelled of spice and rain. The back of his neck was warm
and strong as her fingers played over his skin.

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His hands worked over her back; the only sounds were their heavy breathing and

soft moans. The rumble and crash of the thunder moved in tune with their passion. He
was driving her body to new levels of heat. When he moved to pull her blouse open and
kiss the top curve of her breast, she thought her legs would collapse.

"You are mine, Elayus. I will have you." His voice sounded deep, husky with

desire, but carried a demand.

His words caressed her and spoke to a loneliness she had hidden within her heart.

She felt his over powering need, hunger, and knew she could not refuse him anything.

"I am here for you, Lysander."
He picked her up, carrying her to the large velvet covered bench near the fire. He

laid her down and followed, his body pressed along her side. One knee was bent, his foot
planted on the bench's edge. Lysander leaned toward her. His hands loosened the ties at
the shoulders of her shift and pulled it down exposing the swells of her breasts, while
tasting her lips again. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she met it with her own.
Her thoughts were hot, intense, and full of him. This was the first time she felt prized,
worshiped.

His need fueled her own. As her breasts were uncovered, his large hot hand

smoothed over her flesh, to explore. His fingers brushed over a tight nipple, causing her
to jerk and moan into his mouth.

He left her lips to slide his tongue down and around the hardened pebble,

triggering her to clench at his head, holding him there as shivers of pleasure fingered their
way through her body.

She needed him to suckle her and then he was...pulling at the nipple, twisting his

tongue around it, sucking the complete aureole into the heat of his mouth. She ran her
hands over his broad sinewy back and up along his neck and into his long dark hair. He
smelled of spice and hot desire. Elayus could not get close enough. She wanted to crawl
into him, holding him to her very soul.

Elayus felt the slide of her skirts being raised, the cool air across her exposed

thighs. His fingers caressed her bare hip, pulling her in tight to him before moving to her
inner thigh and up into the curls at the joining of her legs.

She stilled, waiting with anticipation, her body crying out for his touch.
His fingers feathered softly, separating her woman's folds then sliding through the

moist heat. She caught herself raising her hips, pressing herself into him.

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"Open for me, my lady. Give me leave to enter."
She let her legs fall open and his fingers pushed into her welcoming sheath.
"Lysander." She breathed his name with a kind of wonder. She felt him moving

within her, stretching her to insert another finger. The pleasure was new, intense, causing
hot, wet, nectar to pool were he touched.

He glanced up at her. His gaze burned over her face with such hunger and

intensity it stole her breath.

"You are my greatest pleasure, Elayus."
She sensed his utter sincerity, the strength of his emotions. With a gentle stroke,

she ran a finger along his jaw to his chin then down his throat to flatten her palm against
his chest. He groaned, leaning forward and nipping at her nipple, bringing forth a spasm
of heat to radiate to where his fingers pushed in deeper, working a rhythm in and out, his
thumb, brushing over her sensitive nub. Elayus jerked as a massive wave of pleasure
caught her, carrying her to new heights.

Lysander could feel her on the verge of completion. With another caress to the

pleasure point and twist of his fingers, she cried out and he caught it with his mouth over
hers, feeding on her desire. He continued the rhythm, watching her climax hard and felt
her sheath tighten around his fingers. She was beautiful in her response and he had been
the one to share this moment with her. He felt honored and humbled by the gift.

His own body was in pain. The beast demanded an exchange to finish the ritual

of bonding, but Lysander could not share his tainted blood with her and the time was not
right to share his body. Danger still lurked outside.

He reluctantly removed his fingers and gritted his teeth. He did not want to

frighten her away by his raging hunger and need, revealing the hidden beast. Yet, all he
could see was her body, smell the essence of her still on his hands, and remember the
taste of her lips and breasts. He sat up, covering his eyes, taking deep breaths. Control
remained a fleeting thing when she sat so close. Only by the power of his will did he
bring the beast to heel.

Elayus' gentle hand ran over his tense shoulder. "What is it, Lysander? Your

heart is beating erratically. There is a battle raging inside you. Have I done something
wrong?"

"Nay! Never that. 'Tis me. I am not what you think I am. I have a need and fear

to frighten you with it."

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"Tell me. Let me please you as you have pleased me."
She ran her hand over his chest then lower, only to slow, uncertain. Lysander

took her hand, bringing it to cover his hard shaft. He moaned at her first stroke. It was
not enough. He untied his britches and she moved her hand in to wrap her fingers around
his manhood.

"Show me what pleases you."
He turned toward her so she could watch, then placed his fingers around hers on

his rod, and moved them up and down, stroking him. The hard muscles in his thighs
bunched as his hips moved with every glide of her fingers. She caught her breath at his
heated response. Her thumb brushed across its tip, causing Lysander to groan. He
rocked faster against her hand and she felt an answering heat in her own loins.

As if he knew what she needed, his other hand brushed at the curls between her

legs again. She opened herself wide for his fingers. He pushed them deep, causing her to
squeeze his erection with her long slender fingers. He threw his head back enjoying her
touch. They moved together both seeking, reaching, on the edge.

Lysander leaned over taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking, nibbling, his

fangs lengthening. Then he took what he needed, biting deep, taking the hot essence of
her into his mouth.

He heard her gasp then shuddered as she found her release. His fingers still

worked deep between her legs. Her thighs closed around his hand pushing his fingers
deeper, holding him within.

His own climax came hard on hers. He raised his head and cried out as he spilled

his seed. The hot liquid warmth spreading over their entwined fingers.

Lysander leaned over her breast once more closing the tiny holes, and licking the

ruby smear of her sweet elixir, then wrapped his tongue around her rock hard nipple. She
shivered, and he glanced up meeting her heavy lidded gaze. A contented smile curved
those passion-swollen lips.

"I never knew it could be like that."
The familiar lopsided smile touched his mouth. "It gets better."
Her eyes widened. "By the gods, it can not?"
He removed his fingers and she closed her eyes on a sigh. Then he let go of her

hand still around his length. She stroked him a few times until his gaze swung back to
her. Elayus smile was mischievous.

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"You like that do you?" His voice deep and husky.
"Aye. Is it a sin to like to watch a man swell with need and know you are the one

to cause it?"

"Not with me."
"Mayhap I will bite you next time."
A rumble of laughter sounded in his chest. "That I would enjoy." He was

growing hard again. "But another time." Needing diversion from his heated thoughts, he
closed his pants and asked, "Did no one come here tonight?"

"All has been quiet." She pulled her skirts down covering her legs and wiping her

fingers before reaching to tie her blouse shut.

He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips, placing a kiss on the inside of her

wrist. "Leave it. I would gaze at you a while longer. You are as soft as satin and your
form is pleasing to me."

Lysander laid her back and leaned over her again. Had he been wrong about

Drieffous sending one of those things after her? No, he had picked up her name before
the thunder covered what else was said.

"If there is trouble tonight Elayus, I need you to do exactly what I tell you. Your

life and mine will depend on it."

"Are you expecting trouble?"
"With Drieffous, always."
"I was hoping to check on my mother this night but I am sure her maid will keep

her comfortable. Mother is not aware of things around her. She is sick and does not have
long in this world.

"Do not think ill of me, but I have not told her or anyone else what has happened.

Knowing Carolyn had been kidnapped by a madman would cause mother to worry."

Elayus ran her hand up his side to just under his arm and felt something wet and

sticky just before he jerked as if in pain.

His brow pinched as they both sat up.
"What is this?" Elayus asked pulling her hand around to examine it in the

firelight. Blood smeared her fingers.

"'Tis nothing."
Elayus moved off the couch, turned to face him and started untie his shirt.
"I must see this wound, Lysander. How did you receive it?"

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He shrugged, not caring what she did as long as she stood with her naked breasts

at eye level. Her blouse hung off one shoulder and her bare breasts bounced slightly with
her every move. She had forgotten her state of undress in her need to help him. That
thought brought forth a smile. It had been a long time since someone had cared for him.
Warmth invaded his cold heart.

He pulled his shirt off over his head, wiping his hands on it before throwing it to

the floor, then her warm fingers moved over his chest and shoulder. The wound must
have come from Drieffous. Lysander remembered the sharp pain as he escaped out the
window. He had been in vaporous form, so he should not have been able to be hurt.

Drieffous had been chanting, throwing a dark spell that hit its mark, but his

distraction with the fire had no doubt kept it from being a killing wound. Drieffous'
powers had grown in the time since last they drew swords. That concerned Lysander.
Raising his arm to view his side, Lysander saw that blood had run down into his pants
from a small puncture wound below his last rib. It lay close to another older scar. The
one he had received the night Elayus first cared for him. He glanced up at her.

All the blood ran to Elayus' feet as sketches of images laced across her memories.

Dizziness rocked her as she saw herself as a young girl helping another man who was
stabbed. Elayus could not quite see his face, but her heart had known him as a protector
just like Lysander.

She drew in a deep breath. Why would she think of that childhood game she once

played? How many times had her mother told her to put those silly ideas away and grow
up. So why would these thoughts return so fast to someone who had not dwelled on them
in a long time?

"What is it, Elayus? You have gone pale." She felt his large hands circle her

waist, giving support.

She blinked and shook her head. "I was remembering something."
"Tell me." His voice held a demand.
"'Twas foolish, or my mother thought so." She shook her head again in

confusion. "I was not to speak of it again."

"Elayus, I wish to know. Will you share with me?"
There existed something in his voice almost like anticipation. Like always, it

compelled, making the words rise to her tongue but she tried to force them down. "First,
I would see to your wound."

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Lysander's hold around her waist tightened as he pulled her closer to stand

between his legs, his face pressed to her breasts, nuzzling her soft flesh. "The wound has
sealed. There is nothing you need do. Now tell me. What do you remember?"

She ran her fingers into his hair, cradling his head to her chest. She could not

refuse him.

"Seeing your wound brought old images to my mind. When I was young, I

believed there were three kinds of people in the world, takers, givers, and protectors. I
was so sure of this. I could tell by looking into a persons eyes and reaching into their
hearts, what kind of person they were." She laughed. "'Tis a most silly thing. One I put
aside many years ago."

Lysander leaned back, meeting her gaze. "That sounds like your mother or

another adult speaking. What if this is a gift from the gods, and you have hidden it under
a cloak of adult cynicism?"

Elayus frowned.
"Have you wondered why you do not fear me, when everyone else does?

Mayhap, you know my heart, but won't admit it to yourself."

"Stop, please. You are making my head hurt." Elayus rubbed at her temples.
She was still suppressing her gifts. Why? It would come in its own time, but for

now, he would ease her pain.

"Lie with me." He pulled her down to lie on the couch once more, wrapping her

in his arms.

"I will ease the pain, sweet one. Close your eyes and trust me."
Elayus' eyelids slipped shut and she exhaled. With feather strokes, he ran his

hands over her collarbone, along a shoulder, sliding down around one breast. He
continued caressing her until her muscles relaxed and she slept. Lysander enjoyed
watching her as she rested.

Elayus was a miracle yet she still did not realize it or the potential of that gift. He

must help her acknowledge and develop it so she could guard against the takers.
Lysander smiled. Only a child could put it so simply.

Suddenly, Lysander's sharp hearing picked up a scratching sound at the front

door. Someone lurked outside. He spoke a word and the fire died, leaving nothing but
ambers, throwing the room into darkness. He tried removing himself without waking
Elayus but just as he stood, she caught his hand.

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"What is it?"
"Stay here, Elayus. There is someone outside and at this time of night, it reeks of

Drieffous.

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~Five~



Lysander felt Elayus' fingers loosen then release him before he moved on silent

feet to the window beside the front entrance. He scanned the area around the yard,
throwing out his senses, seeking out who dared cross his land. The storm had quieted.
Flashes of lightning illuminated the thick dark clouds. He should have been more alert
doing constant scans instead of making love to Elayus. She was a lovely distraction but
one that could prove to be their downfall.

The thought was cut off as his gaze came to rest on a box sitting on the top step of

the landing. Trolls baring gifts. Dare he refuse? He knew he would not like what lay
within, but not knowing could be a worse fate, especially if it held a warning.

Whoever left the box had gone. He removed the security from the entrance and

opened the double doors to step outside.

The box was square, about four hands wide and tall. He would open it where it

sat. Drieffous could put an explosive spell in it so that sharp objects flew out into the
person's eyes and throat, but Lysander knew Drieffous would not. He wanted his living
blood too much to kill him. Moreover, if something did happen to him, Drieffous did not
have the time or know how to hunt for a new immortal. Consumption was squeezing
life's breath from his lungs, too quickly.

Lysander stooped down, examining the wooden box from all angles. With a shift

in the breeze, he got a whiff of something he wished was not coming from a box.

Blood. Fresh human blood. He tore into the container; dread curling like smoke

to fill his chest, thickening with each moment. Had he been wrong in assuming Drieffous
had sent one of his minions after Elayus? Was this part of her sister?

Splinters sliced his hand as he broke opened the lid. Peering inside, he spied one

of Drieffous' formal scrolled messages. Unrolling the scroll, he read its bold script,


Lysander,

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The sister still lives, but Elayus' mother is sick no more.
See how kind I can be. Would you like me to care for the sister as well?
You friend always,
Drieffous

Lysander withdrew what was left of a dressing gown sliced and smeared with

blood. He raised it to his nose. In truth, it was the blood of an older woman, but as to
being Elayus' mother, he would have to make sure.

"Lysander, is it safe?"
He shoved the dress back into the box, not wanting her to see it, then swung his

head to see her peering around the edge of the door. By the gods, how was he going to
tell her?

Lysander groaned, turning back to look out at the wet night. A cool breeze

danced over his bare chest, pushing his hair about his shoulders. She had spoken of her
mother just this night and now would feel guilt at not being there to help protect her. But
in truth, had she been there, it would have been her blood the demon would have sent to
him. The very thought caused rage to blow like an insidious disease throughout his chest.
No one would hurt Elayus. Drieffous would be seen too.

"Nay. I fear 'tis not," he answered.
He picked up the broken box and entered the door, shutting out the evil festering

close by. He secured the spell over the entrance once more as he strode through the hall.

"There is something you must see, Elayus. The news was carried by an ill wind."
She walked beside him until they came to the study; there he waved her through

first then followed.

"Sit by the fire."
Elayus did as he asked, then moved over so he could sit beside her.
"I am not going to like what is in the box, am I?"
He shook his head. His jaw tightened with anger as he saw her yes widen in fear.
"Has Lord Creedville done something to my sister?"
"No sweet one." He handed her Drieffous' message and waited for her to read it.

The firelight played over her features, and he saw the exact moment realization dawned.

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She stood slowly on shaking legs, staring at a darkened corner. The message

hung forgotten at her side. "He has killed my mother." Her hands fisted around the
scroll, crushing the parchment.

"I am sorry, Elayus. I'll go to your house to make sure."
"Nay." She turned to him. Firelight sparkled off the tears escaping down her

cheeks. "Drieffous will be expecting that of you. He will set a trap. Promise, you will
not go. I need you here, with me. My mother was sick and in a lot of pain. I pray only
that she went quickly and did not suffer. But, by all that is good, I will sorely miss her."
A catch in her voice spoke of her valiant attempt to hold onto her pain. Elayus had such
strength, such passion. He knew the pain of loss after seven hundred years of watching
family be murdered one by one. He could wipe her memory yet knew she would
disapprove. She would want to face everything head on. That was her nature. However,
he would destroy the rest of what Drieffous had sent.

Lysander stood, placing the box with the dress into the fire. The dry timber

flamed quickly, snapping and popping as it consumed the contents. She did not need to
see the violent evidence. That part had been a threat from Drieffous aimed at him, and he
had received it loud and clear.

He went to Elayus, pulling her into his arms. There was nothing else he could do

to ease her pain but hold her. She hid her face in the curve of his neck, weeping and
clasping at his back. He buried his face in her hair, his arms sheltering her in the curve of
his throat and shoulder.

"Why?" Her question came out muffled against his skin. When he did not

answer, she leaned back facing him. Her nose was red and tear tracks marked pale
cheeks. Her beautiful eyes were swollen, making him wish he could kill Drieffous for
what he had done. He knew it would come to that. There was no other way. One of
them would be dead when this was all over and he prayed it was Drieffous.

"Why would he kill an old sick woman?" Elayus' question brought his thoughts

back to her. "What does he want so badly? And why use me and my family to force
you? I have a right to know Lysander."

What should he tell her? How much would be too much? He could not lose her,

yet he sensed if he withheld the information now...that too could make her leave. He
sighed.

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"How much are you ready to hear? I am not sure you can handle it all at this

time."

His voice whispered over her skin bringing comfort. Just to know she was not

alone. His strong arms around her made her loss easier to bear somehow. His
compassion became warmth to her cold heart. He was finding a permanent place in her
heart, as if he had been there all her life. She needed him. That surprised her more than
anything, because no other man had ever temped her, like Lysander. Mayhap, it was his
strength or longing, or even his loneliness and the hunger she glimpsed in the heated gaze
that always fell over her. Elayus only knew he resided in her heart.

"Begin, and if the information becomes too much, I will stop you."
"Very well. Sit down by the fire. You have grown cold." As she moved to sit,

Lysander went over to pour her a chalice of wine. Striding back, he handed her the
liquid. "This will warm you, sweet one."

She took the offering and sipped it. The wine tasted sweet and helped calm her

churning stomach. Lysander sat in a chair facing her. His gaze was direct and intense.
"I believe you were brought into this conflict between Drieffous and myself because you
saved my life many years ago. I have watched you grow and protected you without your
knowing since you where seven. Drieffous must have figured out I cared for you and
used you to get to me. For that I am sorry."

"Wait. When did I save your life? I think I would remember that."
"I was that man at the tavern. The one you remembered helping as a little girl."
Suddenly, images filled in where darkness had been, everything filtered and clear.

Her eyes widened.

"You are the protector." At his nod, she shook her head. "But, you cannot be.

That was a decade or more ago. You have not aged."

"I do not age, Elayus. I am immortal. That is what Drieffous wants from me.

His dark powers are devouring his innards and he is rotting from the inside out and will
soon die. So he has raised the stakes in this private battle and will do anything to live
forever."

"You are saying, you live forever?"
"That is what a protector is. There are all different types of protectors, yet we still

have one thing in common, our lifelines are long.

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"Stop, no more." She leaned over placing a hand gently over his mouth. "I find I

am overtired and need to think on what you have said. With this knowledge, and on top
of my mother's murder, I find I am not as strong as I thought."

"Forgive me, Elayus. Go to bed, and rest. I'll keep you safe."
Dazed, Elayus only nodded and walked out into the darkened hallway then up the

stairs. A single lit torch set in the wall sconce showed the way to her room. Stepping
inside, she was amazed that all the candles were lit and a warm fire had chased away the
chill. When had Lysander done this for her?

Elayus sat on the bed, pulling her feet up under her and grabbed a pillow to hug.

Thinking of her mother, Shayna once more bore hard tears. But after the tears dried, she
began to think.

There were times in her young life when she thought she had met people like

Lysander. Those who were different from her in a way she could not readily name. It
was a strange feeling that persisted long after the person had moved on. She had tried to
talk to her mother about it but had been dismissed as a young child's musing. Elayus
quickly learned that it was not a good thing to be different and had never mentioned it
again. As the years went by, she sensed things less and less. Now Lysander stirred these
sensations again and it frightened her. What would this mean for her future, her safety,
and those she loved?

She had grown up with all the myths and legends of faeries, trolls, and gods living

forever, but to meet an immortal was hard to except. Yet, the story of the dark and
fearful Lord Doomore had been told around the fire as long as she could remember.
They all had been fearful tales, but she had come to find instead, a lonely soul who was
rough around the edges.

In the past two nights, Lysander had treated her with more kindness than even her

family. It was an observation...one she had not seen until now. How had Lysander come
to mean a great deal to her in so short a time or had she always known he kept watch over
her? If she believed in fey and trolls, in the gods, then too she could conceive
immortality. There was something different about Lysander, an unshakable confidence, a
power unto himself. He answered to no one. Nevertheless, she could not let him do this
alone. Her thoughts moved to her mother. Now, it was her turn to protect Lysander.

She would not take a massage as confirmation of her mother's murder. She would

go home to see for herself.

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If she left in an hour, she could be at the manor by sunrise. Surely, with all the

long nights Lysander was keeping, he would sleep late in the morning. That way she
would have time to get back here before she was missed.

* * *

Finding several dark cloaks in the small closet behind a tapestry, she put one on to

conceal her clothing and protect her from the weather; Elayus walked to her bedroom
door and peeked outside. The hall was deserted, but then she never saw anyone but
Lysander in this big castle. That in itself seemed strange, for it was kept clean and food
was plentiful.

Walking down the stairs, she glanced sharply both ways. She knew Lysander

would not let her go alone if he spotted her. Elayus would not let Drieffous get the upper
hand by using her mother's death to trap Lysander. Again, her decision to go alone
bloomed in her heart.

Light spilled out from under the crack at the bottom of the study door. No doubt,

he still worked. It seemed the man never tired.

With slippered feet, her movements were silent as she made it to the front door.

Glancing back once more toward the darkened hallway, she found it deserted.

She was going to make it. Elayus took a hold of the door latch, and white-hot

pain sliced up her arm to crawl across her chest. An involuntary cry burst through her
lips before she covered her mouth and let go of the latch. The burning pain did not stop
but seemed to worsen.

"Going somewhere?" Lysander's hard voice turned her head.
"Aye. I must go home. I planned to return shortly." She rubbed her fingers

where they had gone numb. They hung useless on a burning arm.

"Come to me, Elayus."
She moved forward without knowing she had. She just stood there before him.

His brow was pinched in a frown and his lips were thinned in anger. Flames danced
within the deep orbs of his golden eyes. Yet, his grip on her arm as he took hold of her
was gentle as he pulled her into the study.

"Your door bit me, Lysander. My fingers are numb and burning pain is crawling

up my arm an into my chest."

"I have placed security on all doors and windows so no one can enter."
"Or leave," she added.

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"I did not expect you to welch on our agreement. Is your word no good? Here,

stand by the fire. Let me examine your fingers for wounds." He took her hands, looking
over every finger then brought each one to his mouth. She thought he meant to kiss
them, but held her breath when he sucked on each one instead. The hot moist heat of his
mouth, the slide of his tongue, made her lean in toward him, as her legs weakened.

"I was not trying to escape, Lysander. I would have returned."
Her fingers tingled as her circulation started to return, the pain up her arm was

gone. She knew her lips mimicking his. The action brought moist heat to another part of
her body as well. The need for his touch was strong as desire warmed her thoughts.

"How can you affect me so?" she asked. "My body gets all warm inside with just

a glance from your eyes. Is this normal?"

"Nay. It is something special. In all my years, no one has affected me like this

but you. Is the pain gone?"

"Aye."
His fingers played behind her neck, pulling her forward until her body pressed

hard against his and his lips covered hers.

He tasted of warm brandy, sweet and spicy. Elayus pushed her fingers into his

long black hair, needing him to continue. The snapping of the logs in the fire, and heavy
breathing, sounded around them as they feasted on the others lips and mouth. His tongue
twined with hers, then sucked it into his mouth. His hand moved to her breast, rolling her
hard nipple between his fingers. Elayus moaned, pressing herself closer to him.

He lifted his head, his breath harsh and fast as he gazed at her with those

mesmerizing eyes. She felt him pull at her soul, waiting for something from her. If she
only knew what.

"Why were you trying to leave me?"
His voice sounded almost as if she had hurt him. She brushed the hair from his

forehead. "I would have returned. I needed to see for myself, that mother is dead. I
cannot take a message from someone I do not trust as truth. It is unsafe for you to go,
Lysander. Drieffous will seek any means to get what he wants from you. You must be
kept safe. I am not important, so he will not bother with me."

Lysander was overwhelmed. She cared for his safety, more than a little, and she

would have come back. He read that truth in her thoughts.

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"I will take you to your mother's home tomorrow evening when there is less of a

threat, and do not ever think Drieffous will not bother with you. You mean something to
me. That is why Drieffous is a danger to you. Now go up to bed get some sleep." He
ran a finger along her soft jaw.

"Will you not join me?" Color bloomed across her cheeks and she diverted her

gaze. With one finger under her chin, he brought her gaze up to meet his.

"That would be my greatest pleasure, my lady." Heat and inner longing raked his

body with her spoken request. "Yet there is something I must see to if we go together on
the morrow."

Elayus smiled, kissed him again, before leaving the room. He continued to look

out into the darkened doorway, his thoughts working out plans.

Going to her mothers was not a wise decision, but he knew if the message had

been about Elayus, he would walk through fire to see if it was truth. He only hoped he
could keep her safe. These minions of Drieffous had him concerned. They were not
something he had ever dwelt with before. He did not know their weaknesses. And he
was not sure if he could defeat them.

He would go through the ancient tomes that he kept guarded deep underground.

The writing of the ancient ones may give knowledge about this threat.

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~Six~



The next night found Elayus on a sidesaddle traveling to her mother's house. The

moonlight washed over the land, from a cloudless sky. Mist hung thick among the trees
giving the place a surreal, other worldly feel, as if lines between realms thinned. A lone
owl hooted from a branch above as they passed. Everything else lay at peace, quiet, and
still. Mayhap too still.

Elayus watched Lysander's strong back as he led the way and heard the hypnotic

clip-clop of horse's hooves on the hard packed dirt road but her thoughts were aimed
within. Something was not right. She had never slept through a whole day. Now she
had done so twice in a row. Mayhap, she had taken ill like her mother. She did not feel
sick. Could it be all the stress she was dealing with that made her so tired? Lysander had
said nothing of her strange behavior, so she would wait to see how she felt the next
couple of days.

When Lysander straightened and stretched in the saddle, her thoughts centered on

him. The strength of those shoulders carried many responsibilities. He had done so
alone with no thanks or honors for his protection over the years. How many years had he
been a protector? Lysander had said he was immortal. In truth, he had not aged, but to
live forever was a concept that boggled the mind. Lysander had been concerned when he
spoke of it last night. Drieffous believed it as well, for he was going to great lengths to
obtain that prize of immortality. But how did one get immortality?

Would Drieffous be laying in wait? Lysander said he would be close by to make

sure she came to no harm, having bowed to her request that he promise to stay out of
sight. If something had happened, she wanted no taint of it to be blamed on him.

They rode up and stopped before a tall three-story manor. It stood dark like a

broken crown with all its jewels cut from its face. Dark shadows moved from window to
window. The wind moaned as it circled the stone keep, causing Elayus to shudder.

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Warm masculine hands reached around her waist to help her down from the

mount. Lysander wore a cloak and hood so she could not see anything of him not even
the glow of his eyes, but Elayus knew he missed nothing of what happened around them.
The spicy scent of him brought her warmth, the width of his strong shoulders under her
hands brought her comfort, and his touch at her waist gave her strength.

"I will be close by, Elayus. If you have need of me call out."
She nodded, letting her hands fall to her sides. "Thank you, Lysander." With

slow steps, she turned and walked up into the darkened house. An eeriness fell over her
once she was inside. Elayus felt the waves of violence. A chill crept along her limbs to
coil in her belly. She wanted to flee, escape the oppressive malevolence, but knew she
had to view her mother's sick room first.

Needing to be done quickly, she ran up the stars, having no need of a light. She

had lived in this house for many years, and knew her way around. Elayus turned left at
the landing, heading to the fourth entrance on the right. With her hand on the door latch,
fear exploded in her chest. What would she find? Could she do this alone?

Suddenly, strength poured over her. Lysander was with her, giving comfort.

How greatly she needed him. Taking a deep breath, she unlatched the door and stepped
in.

The first thing that assaulted her from the darkened room was a strong musty

smell of old blood. Her heart jumped as a terrible panic tied her belly in knots.

Elayus tried to peer through the darkness to see forms and shapes. Knowing at

any moment someone could step out of the dark and attack was petrifying.

A thin light from the moon filtered through the windows but gave no help.
She knew her mother kept candles and flint on the bedside table. With cautious

steps, she made her way across the floor. She stumbled into an upended chair before she
found the table. Using her fingers to feel around, they slid over the cold metal box. Flint.
Next, the slightly tacky feel of a bedside candle. Just as she struck the flint to the candle,
she glanced back toward the door. The outline of a man stood there. She almost dropped
the candle as a scream wormed out as a squeak, then the flame flared and she found she
was only seeing a dressing gown hanging from a peg beside the entrance. Holding the
candle with shaky hands, Elayus glanced around the room to see that she was alone. But
that knowledge did not make her terror lessen. It only brought out the violence of the
scene.

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The furniture had been turned over in a struggle. The maid lay wide-eyed in

death, her face swollen and blue as if she had been strangled. Her skirts were torn, her
legs bare and bent at odd angles. On the bed lay her mother's naked body. Her throat
cut. Her mouth open in a silent scream.

Elayus stuffed a fist to her mouth; tears swam to cloud her vision.
Oh mommy, forgive me. I should have warned you.
Two hands from behind grabbed her. She screamed but a large palm over her

mouth cut it off.

"Elayus! We have to leave." Lysander's voice broke though her panic and loss.
"Come. We cannot be caught here. Drieffous has brought some assassins. He is

using them to trap us both for these murders. Do you hear me?"

She nodded. Her thoughts cleared, yet her heart hung heavy. They had to

survive. Carolyn was all the family she had, now, and she could not loss Lysander either.

"Where are they?" Elayus asked as he removed his hand.
"Out front where we tied the horses I borrowed. They will be inside the manor in

moments."

The squeak of the front door and voices echoing along the cold walls from below,

gave evidence of his words. Her mother's house was now a tomb, she would never return
here.

"Quick. This way." Elayus grabbed his arm and headed for a small closet or

dressing room.

"Elayus, we need to leave not hide. They will find us. They are under Drieffous

control."

She did not slow only pulled on him harder. "My mother married an old man, but

she still had needs."

Once inside the small closet, Elayus turned and locked the door. A loud click

sounded at the same time but from the opposite wall behind a rack of clothes.

Elayus pushed the clothes aside to reveal a small passageway behind the wall.
"Through here."
Lysander nodded and followed. She heard a yell inside her mother's bedroom just

as the panel slide shut, leaving them in total darkness.

"Are there torches or sconces along the walls?" Lysander asked just to her left.
"Aye, but I have no way..."

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Lysander spoke and the torches burst into flames. Elayus gasped, her eyes turned

to his. "I can see you are good to have around."

The lopsided grin twisted his lips again. "In more ways than you know."
"Will you share them all with me?"
"'Tis a desire I dream of."
The fire in his gaze brought an answering heat to her loins. "I look forward to the

lesson."

"As do I."
His hand moved across her bottom then one finger slid down the seam to the heat

between her legs. Her lips parted and she pressed back against his fingers.

"Lysander."
He leaned close to her ear. "I feel your need, and smell the heat of your arousal.

If I knew we were safe, I would press you to the wall and run my fingers into your
welcoming heat, before taking you hard and fast until you cried out your pleasure.
However, I cannot even if I am hard with the want of you. Step away from me, Elayus.
Quickly. For I would damn us both to taste the essence wetting your thighs."

She stepped away, turning to see his fists pressed on opposite walls at his sides,

his breathing harsh and fast, betraying the urgent demands of his body. Something
dangerous flickered in the depths of his eyes. "How do we get out of here?" His voice
sounded rough.

"Down this way."
The stairs were stuck between two narrow walls and they had to walk sideways at

times. Spiders had been industrious, weaving sticky silk from one side of the wall to the
other. The short passage smelled musty from disuse and the wooden stairs creaked under
Lysander's muscular frame. At the bottom was a latch. Elayus waited, listening for any
movement outside.

"I would guess the Count your mother married knew nothing about this."

Lysander sneered.

"No. The original wall is here.” She pointed to the inner wall. “Mother just had

another wall built beside it to give her a way out. She had it done one summer when the
Count went to visit family."

"I am an older man, would you sneak out to cuckold me?"
He almost sounded jealous, as if he hated the idea of her with another man.

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She smiled. "No one could take your place, Lysander."
He pulled her close, his lips pressed over hers, showing his approval no doubt.

Elayus loved everything about him and kissed him back hungrily. How quickly he had
grown in her heart. Just as suddenly as he had kissed her, he stopped.

"When I get you to my keep, I would finish what we started. I can wait no

longer."

"Aye, my lord." Her heart sang for it.
With a twist of the latch, the wall opened and they slipped out into the night.
Elayus tilted her head to one side. A mischievous smile covered her lips. "I got

us out, now 'tis your turn to get us home."

He raised a brow at her word home. She continued to please him. "Do you trust

me?" he asked.

"Aye, with my life."
"How much do you weigh?"
"What?"
"How much do you weigh?"
Elayus frowned. "A little over one hundred pounds I think. What does this—"
"Sleep!" Lysander caught her as she went limp and laid her on the ground. He

shaped shifted into a large bird of prey. He heard of these monstrous birds carrying off
calves and sheep. He would guess their weight more than hers.

He grabbed an arm with each talon careful not to hurt her then lifted them into the

air. He could not get as much height as he would have liked but it was enough to pass
over the trees.

A volley of arrows exploded from behind them. He glanced back to see Drieffous

pointing at them. The whish of arrows passed too close. He dodged several before
lowering them behind a shield of trees. With his speed, it took him only a quarter of the
time to reach his land.

The dark obelisk of his castle pushed itself out from the shadows of trees. The

sight brought relief. He needed to feed soon. His strength was weakening. He had not
taken blood since sampling Elayus. The growing hunger also made him a danger to her.
The beast raised its head this night but Lysander did not let it gain control. He would
leave her to rest, then hunt before returning.

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Lysander landed carefully, laying her down before shape shifting to human form.

When he bent down to pick her up, he noticed blood coated the back of her shirts. She
was pale and her heartbeat erratic. Elayus was slipping away from him. She had taken
an arrow in the thigh. The shaft had pierced her skirts and skin fastening the material to
her flesh. If he did not stop the bleeding, she would be ripped from his hold by the fates.

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~Seven~



Lysander angrily yanked up her skirts to find how bad the damage and where it

was. Blood seeped out around the shaft of the arrow on her thigh. With one quick jerk,
he removed the barbed end and bent over the torn flesh to run his healing tongue over the
wound. With the second pass, he sealed the hole and stopped her blood loss, but the
danger was not over. She had lost too much of the valuable liquid, causing her heart to
labor.

Lysander scooped her up into his arms, pulling her into the shelter of his neck and

took the porch stairs two at a time. The front doors opened to slam against the wall; thick
clouds began to roll across the dark sky, as Lysander's anger and fear clashed together
like a violent storm. His every thought brought action; the doors slammed shut, torches
burst into flames up along the stairs to the landing above. Her bedroom doorway stood
open so he passed through.

Thunder shook the castle walls as he laid her across the cool bed linens. She was

pale and unresponsive even after his command to awake. Her heart would skip a beat
stutter then skip another. One fingernail grew long and sharp. He inserted it into the
collar of her blouse and with a quick jerk, sliced the clothes from her body. He examined
her for other wounds, but finding none, covered her with the down filled quilt. Lysander
stood and paced. His hands were fisted, his muscles tight with his chaotic thoughts.

He could save her, he had the power, but it warred with his vow to never change a

human's fate with immortality. Yet, now, faced with losing Elayus, he wavered.

She had become the breath of life, his substance for living. In losing her, he

would lose his soul and become the feeding monster all whispered about.

He stooped beside the bed, glancing at her oval face and soft features. Her heart

was slowing; he had only a few beats more to make a decision or the choice would be
gone for all eternity.

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He sat on the bed, leaning over her. He pushed the hair from her brow and off her

throat.

"Forgive me, Elayus. I am a selfish bastard and cannot lose you."
Lysander ripped the shirt from his body, and he tossed it uncaring on the floor.

Naked to the waist, he slipped an arm behind her neck, raising her head gently to lay her
cheek against his warm flesh of his chest. She was cold, the life force draining from her
all too quickly.

The nail on his index finger grew long and sharp as he placed it on his skin above

her colorless lips.

"With this blood, I give you life. From my cells to your cells, no longer two

separate, only one whole."

He hissed as he sliced into his chest muscle. The warm ruby liquid poured into

her parted lips.

"Drink, Elayus. Take this life I give you. You will not refuse me. Drink and

live, my love."

He put a large push of power behind his command. She coughed, gagging at first.

He felt her unconscious refusal, but would not allow it. After the first few swallows, she
stopped fighting and became greedy in her need. Her hands slid up his torso, kneading
his flesh as her mouth sucked at his chest. With her lips moving along his flesh, his fear
slowly changed to a need of is own. The moment was erotic, sensual, and more powerful
than anything he experienced before. His fingers fanned through her dark tresses,
tightening to hold her close. His staff grew hard and heavy with his need.

It had been centuries since he had seen others of his kind share this with their

lovers but never had it been like this for him. He could feel his soul merging with hers, a
blending woven tightly. Lysander took a breath and so did she, his heartbeat came
strong, and hers tried to follow.

"Lady of Light, my soul is now yours. We are joined for all time. Forgive my

greed, but I could not meet another night without you." He rubbed his cheek across the
top of her head, pulling in the scent of heather. "The choice was clear. The world would
have lost us both, for I would have followed you in whatever manner I could have too
care for you throughout eternity."

Feeling her heartbeat growing stronger and her breathing more steady, he closed

his eyes and concentrated on her thoughts, the transformation had started. Licking his

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finger, he pulled her lips from him and brought the healing saliva across to seal the small
cut from where she drank. The changes would bring discomfort, and he must be prepared
to meet whatever they brought.

Elayus' tongue came out licking the essence of him from her lips. Her gaze was

heavy and dreamy. He laid her back against the pillows.

"Sleep love, I'll return to feed you again, shortly." He watched her eyes slid shut

as she fell into a deep healing rest. His own hunger grew ravenous and as he stood, he
stumbled. He must gorge himself this night so he could care for Elayus once she awoke.
Making sure of her safety, he left the castle and leaped into the turbulent sky.

* * *

Elayus awoke to pain. Her insides burned, fever beat behind blazing dry eyes.

How long had she been sick? When had it come upon her? She opened her gaze to find
her eyesight blurry, yet she could pick out objects in the room.

The fire in the hearth lit the area in a soft warm glow, yet she felt an unease tickle

the back of her neck. She found herself alone, but the snapping of the fire seemed over
loud, the light too bright. More then this, a strong sense of being watched pushed at her
thoughts. It was not Lysander, she would know him. This was something else, a dark,
malevolent stare. She turned her head on the pillow to face the window and felt her heart
constrict with fear. She blinked to clear her vision. Large red eyes glowed from a
twisted cruel face of a gargoyle. The stare remained unblinking and piercing. The
feeling of thick evil seeking to reach in and rip her heart from her chest hung menacingly
in the air. The gargoyle hung upside down from the castle eves. Mayhap it had fallen
from the turrets?

Then she saw it move. It looked as if it crawled away. It could only be the fever.

She was seeing things. Where was Lysander? She needed him.

"I am here sweet one." He strode through the door silently, his strides long and

fluid. Elayus was acutely aware of the power he exuded. His gaze flashing, extreme
confidence emanating from him, and the scent of the night air clung to his cloths. He
looked somehow refreshed.

"Did you see it?" Her voice sounded weak. "It was at the window, watching me."
Lysander frowned, moving quickly to the window to scan the yard below as the

sky lightened. "What did you see?"

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"A gargoyle must have fallen and gotten stuck at my window ledge. It fell away

just as you entered the room. His eyes glowed red and I thought it was watching me. I
felt the taint of evil."

He turned from the window and went to Elayus. So, he had fought with a

gargoyle the other night. He now had a name for the minions, Drieffous was using. That
would give him the edge he needed to protect Elayus.

He sat down beside her on the bed. "Nothing can enter my dwelling unless I bid

them welcome."

"I did."
"Aye, but I opened the door for you and called you in. How do you feel?"
"My insides are on fire. I cannot see well. What is happing to me?" The fear she

felt, surfaced in her voice. "And there is something about you that drives my hunger."
She licked her lips as her gaze ran slowly over his form. "I am afraid, Lysander."

"I am here to ease your pain. I can let nothing happen to you because you are a

part of me. Do you know this Elayus? You are the very breath I draw in, the very best of
my heart. Trust me on this and be at ease." He ran his palm along the curve of her face,
brushing at her hair.

She turned kissing his wrist, running her tongue along the inside bend to the

center of his palm. Her passion brought an answering heat in him. The bonding would
be completed once the transformation was finished this evening.

"Sleep, my lady. Rest, while I stand guard." He put compulsion behind his words

and she relaxed, falling into a deep healing sleep.

Her strength would return, as would her health. But now, he would have her

close. Danger lay in wait, just outside these walls. Lysander picked her up into his arms
to shelter her in the curve of his neck. No harm would come to this gift he found. That
she had come to care for him was more than he could hope for.

Pulling the quilt around her nakedness, he carried her downstairs and into the

study. In a shadow-filled corner, he twisted a dagger that hung displayed on the wall
with a few others and a panel opened only wide enough for him to pass through before it
slid shut with a whispered click. He spoke and the torches along the walls burst to life,
revealing a narrowed stairwell circling down.

He descended with ease always concerned that her legs would not scrap the stone

wall. At the bottom, the way widened into a long hallway with chamber doors on both

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sides. He continued until he reached the last chamber. The door swung open to its
master's voice and Lysander walked into a large bedroom. A fire burned in the hearth,
tapestries hung on the stone walls rugs covered the floor. A huge bed set in the middle of
the room away from all walls. Heavy velvet curtains hung from the four posts and
canopy. He enjoyed the comforts his wealth provided and was pleased he could share
them with Elayus.

Lysander laid his sleeping lady on the bed, removing the quilt from around her

only to pull the covering of his bed up over her breasts before he began to undress. He
laid his clothes on a chair by the fire and crawled naked into the bed beside her. Feeling
her involuntary shivers, he pulled her into the warmth of his body to bring comfort. He
hated that he could not take the pain from her, but he induced her to deep sleep so she
would not feel her organs changing.

He leaned over her, and smoothed the hair from her cheek. Lysander wanted to

memorize every feature, every small indent, or sun spot on her face and body. She had
become the sun in his darkness. To have her here in his bed had only been a fantasy, a
man's dream to warm the nights. Now, to touch her, hold her. He laid his cheek across
her forehead.

Would she forgive him for taking her daylight? He found himself, unsure of her

response. He was a detailed man, wanting to see black and white, so not knowing how
she would react irritated.

He rolled over on his back, pulling her up against his side. One arm he put behind

his head, glancing above at the flickering shadows on the velvet canopy from the
firelight. Having her beside him felt right. She belonged with him, beside him.

Closing his eyes, he let sleep darken his world and relax his body.

* * *

Drieffous opened the locked door to his underground apothecary to be faced by an

angry woman.

"Good evening, Carolyn. I see you are in high sprits."
"Why did you lock me in? You have no right to do this. Where is my sister?"
"You will speak with respect, or I will cut out your tongue."
"Tell me, did your plan work? What part of Lord Doomore's body did you suck

the blood from?"

Anger swelled in his black heart at this reminder that he failed.

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"I am not yet immortal," he growled. "My minions have rock for brains and let

Lysander slip out the window while setting my castle aflame."

Carolyn ran a hand up his shoulder then across his cheek. "I did say to let me

entice him. He would not expect betrayal from me, the victim. The sister to the one he
cares for."

"Do not think too high of your charms, woman. Lysander is not one to use a

woman like myself. I have yet to see him take any woman except to feed."

"Any but Elayus. She helped him long ago. And I caught him watching her from

afar two different times."

"So you say."
"Mayhap he just has not met a woman of my skill with a man."
"You are a deviant bitch."
"That is what you like about me."
She strode around behind him, dragging her fingers across the back of his neck

before she came to face him again.

"You promised me power, Drieffous if I devised a plan to get Lysander here so

you could entrap him. I kept my half of the plan. Because you failed in yours does not
mean I go without pay." Her head tilted, her gaze sly. Carolyn slid her hand down his
chest and into the waistband of his pants. "Give me the spell of conjuring."

As her hand slipped down to fondle him, stroking him to hardness. An evil twist

curled his lips. "I have news of your mother."

His sharp gaze fastened on her face. "She has found herself speechless and at

peace."

"She has gotten better?"
"She is dead. Her throat ripped out." He brushed at a small insect crawling on his

arm, watching it fall to the floor then squashed it under his foot.

Carolyn removed her hand and blinked yet no other expression crossed her

features. "Did you make it painful?"

An evil smile curled his lips as he pictured the scene of murder. The feel of

power in his hands, ruler over life and death caused the rod between his legs to hardened,
straining against his britches.

"It was enjoyable, and I find the very thought of it brings me up hard with

pleasure."

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When she did not say anything, Drieffous thought her cold hearted and mayhap

thanking him for removing the sickness invading her life. He stroked himself as his gaze
ran the length of her.

"You must be grateful, so in your gratitude, you can pleasure me. I will have you

bound and naked on your knees tonight to perform sexually before my servants." He
turned toward the door. "I will leave the door unlocked. You have pleased me. I will
give you the chant of conjuring this eve at supper. You will give me a way to get your
sister out of Lysander's castle and into mine."

He left, leaving coldness behind. Carolyn stood there quietly, a scream building

within her breast. She had lost hold of the situation somehow, and now her mother was
dead, murdered by that decrepit sorcerer. Never again would he touch her.

She desired power, money, and immortality. Drieffous had been the key to all

this. She stormed around a workbench, kicking it over to crash on the floor. Hard work
and months of planning had gotten her to this point. Now it seemed to be falling in upon
her head. She had the knowledge of her studies and now held power of her own.
Nevertheless, she needed the final spell. The one to conjure. With that one spell, she
would not need Drieffous. She would hold the power. No longer would she be an
unwanted, used servant. All would look up to her. She only wished her mother could see
her then.

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~Eight~



A knee in his groin brought his eyes open. Pain radiated into his gut, bringing

forth a deep moan to rumble in his throat.

"I am sorry." A cool hand ran over his cheek and the silk of her hair slid across

his chest. "I am used to pillows all around me not a man."

A twisted smile curved Lysander's lips. "I would hope not." The pain eased as he

adjusted himself.

"What am I doing here with you?" Elayus' voice sounded only interested not

angry. "Have I missed something?"

Her palm lay flat on his chest as he turned toward her. Being this close to her, his

body raged with an urgent arousal unlike any he had ever experienced. Her hair hung in
disarray about her shoulders and over her arm to fan across her breasts.

By the gods, he wanted her.
The scent of the meadow, sweet and fresh clung to the blush of her skin. He

hungered. Needed. There was no rhythm of reason only that she was here and that she
healed his soul.

The ache within his heart, to claim her as his own, grew and somehow, she sensed

his need.

She touched a fingertip to his mouth, drawing a line along the bottom one.
"What would you have of me?"
That sensual mouth of his, invited her, lured her. She wanted him to touch her, to

give comfort and make the madness and insanity of the past few years go away. Her
belly tightened. An unnamed hunger bloomed within her thoughts. She hungered for
him.

"I want all that you are, Elayus, here with me. Will you gift me with heart, soul,

and body?"

"Aye."

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He brought his lips down over hers. Gentle, a sliding of moist heat, before

deepening the kiss. Lysander did not want to let loose the beast and frighten her with the
hunger of his need.

The linens rustled as he moved her beneath him. Her arms came up to circle

around his neck. His large hand caressed the flesh of her throat, tracing down to the
swell of her breasts and across the tight nipple. He held her breast in his palm almost
possessively, his thumb, stroking the bud.

She moaned into his mouth, loving his touch, the very taste of him. Her hands

were busy running down his muscled back.

Her lips scorched a path as she nuzzled his neck and throat, her nails, leaving

shivers of pleasure along his spine.

Lysander felt connected to her. Felt as if they were whole, as if golden threads

surrounded each heart, tieing them together forever. His emotions and senses reeled,
driving away all thought save the need to fill her, to drag her very soul into his.

He pulled her bent knee over his hip so that he lay nestled close to her heat. She

was hot and moist along the hardness of him.

Lysander had never felt like this. He wanted to possess her. Every part of her.

His kiss became more aggressive, pushing his tongue deep to twine and swirl with hers.
To feed on the sweetness only she held.

His hands slid over her bottom then along its seam to move through her soft wet

nether lips and into the dark haven of heaven. She moaned and her nails bit into his flesh
with her growing passion. It only urged him to be more aggressive in his need.

Lysander inserted two fingers deep, moving them in rhythm with his tongue in her

mouth.

Elayus was swimming in waves of heat. His every move and touch incited her to

greater need. She was hungry, out of control. She wrapped her arms around his
shoulders, fanning her fingers in his hair, clasping tight at the dark strands.

The ridges of his belly played across her softer one and the hard shaft of his desire

brushed at the curls of her womanhood. He was everywhere yet never close enough.

She wanted him desperately, but had no words to convey. Yet, somehow he

knew. He pushed her legs wider apart, opening her more, then his hard shaft replaced his
fingers. He entered slowly, a groan rumbled from his throat as he inched his way in.

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"Bring me home, Elayus." His warm breath fanned the hair at her temple as he

buried his face into the curve of her throat.

Pulling her tight against him, he pushed through the thin barrier of her

maidenhead to slide deep within her welcoming folds.

Elayus caught her breath, there had been no pain only a tightening, but the feel of

him so deep, and hard brought a wonder of fulfillment. She felt his strength and power as
he moved within her. Slow strokes in and out, in and out. Teaching her the way to move
yet learning the pleasure of her body, both of them conversed as one heart and soul.

The hunger for him deepening, climbing as Lysander became more forceful with

his rhythm. Beads of sweat broke over them both, causing the cool air to pass across
their heated flesh in a caress. His fingers ran over her bottom, teasing her with each deep
thrust.

Elayus felt her muscles tighten, a ravenous hunger made her aggressive. The

pleasure intensified, her breathing grew rapid.

"Lysander!"
"Come fly with me, love."
She burst through the cloak of passion to reach the peak of pleasure, falling from

a great height. A hard shudder shook Lysander, a growl roared from his throat as his
head fell back, his seed bursting forth as she milked him with her tight sheath. He
relaxed over her. His weight was heavy but comfortable, his breaths blowing the hair
around her ear.

Elayus ran her hands across his back as he nuzzled the curve of her throat. His

tongue slid along her skin and she groaned. The hunger had not fled it had only grown.
She reached down to feel where their bodies joined. He was still hard and deep within
her.

"I still hunger, Lysander." Her voice breathy and deep.
"Elayus." His reply still heavy with need.
She placed her hands on each side of his face, bringing his mouth to hers, kissing,

feeding at his lips.

He groaned, knowing he must tell her what had happened, but he could not share

it now. He had to finish the bonding or lose control of the beast. That happened once in
his youth. He had awakened in a cave, a trail of blood and corpses was a horror he swore

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never to awaken to again. Now aware of the power the beast could unleash if unfed, he
took care never to become replete.

He lowered his lips to her throat, stroking her with his tongue, then slid his fangs

along her silky flesh to her breast. He scrapped his fangs across her hard nipple causing
her to arch. She was life, the warmth in his darkness. He sought the sweetness of her
purity and sank his teeth deep.

She stiffened, then shuddered and relaxed, stroking the back of his head. The

essence of her brought life to his cells. He felt power and strength build. She made him
whole. As he suckled, she wrapped her fingers in his long hair and rocked herself against
his staff still hard within her. He closed the tiny holes with his tongue. The control now
his again, he felt her hunger buffeted him like a brewing storm.

She had given him that which he needed, a gift of priceless quality, her innocence

and her blood.

Lysander raised his head only to meet her gaze and see the fire of need in her

eyes. Her breath was labored, coming fast. Uncertainty twisted her lips. She did not
know what was happening to her.

"Lysander, my heart is racing, my belly is cramping. I hunger."
"'Tis the bonding, love."
Her nails bit into his arm as her hold tightened.
"Bring your lips to my chest, just to the left of my heart. Run your tongue over

the muscle. Taste of me, Elayus. I hold the substance you need."

The spicy scent of him drove her. She was aroused, on fire, and out of control.

His skin was cool, his taste slightly salty from their love play. Her lips slid across his
flesh.

She pushed him back against the pillow his dark hair falling across his large

shoulders. A knowing smile lifted one side of his lips as she became aggressive.

Lysander watched her with unblinking eyes. The fire in them, encouraging.
He pointed to the skin above one male nipple. "Place your mouth over me here."

When she had done that he said. "Bite down, and accept the life, I give you."

Elayus applied pressure with her teeth and felt them grow long piercing his flesh.

She would have pulled away, but Lysander held her head to him, groaning in pleasure.

"Feed from me, Elayus." He moaned. "By the gods, I will have you again."

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Sweet liquid poured into her mouth and thrust drove her to swallow. Erotic heat

pooled between her thighs. Her hips rocked with each swallow until his fingers answered
and slid into her wet sheath, matching the rhythm of her lips. She rotated against his
twisting fingers, her lips fastened to his chest, her hands kneading muscles around his
male nipple. His thumb teased over the sensitive nub of her passion. She let her legs fall
open wide, giving him excess to her heated core.

The taste of him was erotic but combined with her legs spread, and his stroking

fingers deep inside; she knew she could not hold on. As he flicked the hard pebble
between the seams of her nether lips, Elayus raised her head and cried her release. Her
body convulsed around his fingers, rocking faster, pulling them deeper with continued
small shivers.

Lysander continued to stroke her until her little whimpers changed to moans and

she grabbed at his hand.

"You are more than I dreamed of."
She ran her gaze over him lazily from where she lay on his stomach. He removed

his fingers licking them, enjoying the essence of her passion before running them over
the small holes in his chest, closing the tiny wound her teeth had made.

He flipped her on her back. A deep growl came from his throat. He bent her

knees then pushed them apart his hold tighter, rougher. He watched as he moved a finger
around the hard nub between her thighs. She jerked at his caress.

"Lysander."
"Shh! Do not speak." He growled. The beast was free and any movement from

her before he could find control would set it upon her. "Lay very still." He inhaled her
scent and a shudder past over his body. The vampire he was wished to dominate his
mate. He wanted to leave his mark. She was his.

She felt the change in him, his savage need. Her heartbeat raced as she laid

spread before him. Fear yet anticipation settled in her belly. Here was the dark wildness
of the predator. He needed something from her.

"Take of me what you need." She slowly slid her fingers down to spread herself

open. He growled deeply and then pressed his face between her open thighs. His tongue
probed, driving inside her, drinking of her essence then sucking at the hard sensitive nub.
He fed, sucking, taking all she gave in a frenzied hunger. She screamed with pleasure,
tossing her head back and forth, as she came again and again. Then she felt his fangs

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slide across her nub and she pressed herself against his mouth. Just above the sensitive
nub, he sank his teeth deep. As he drank, his tongue circled and teased. She caught her
breath then convulsed and convulsed, fearing never to finish. Then he was in her, his
hard staff filling her again with his seed. The cry of the wild, echoed around the room as
he found release. Lysander fell over her, pulling her up tight against him, as if he would
pull her into himself. His heart pounding hard next to hers.

Her thoughts and body were calm, at peace. She should be scandalized at what

she had done with him, but was not. Somehow, it felt right, like two halves joined after
years of separation. Or mayhap, it was because she had always loved him, holding it
somewhere deep within.

There would be no other for her. Lysander was a part of her now, mayhap he

always had been.

She ran a hand across his back in a circular caress. He pulled her in tight again as

if to make sure she would not escape.

"I think I said not to move or speak."
"Mmmm is that what you said?" She could feel him smiling against her neck.

Then a slow rumble of laughter moved through his chest.

"Aye."
"Well I did warn you of my rebellious character from the beginning."
"So you did." He raised his head, showing his lopsided grin.
Elayus ran her hand along his jaw. "Lysander, I am different. Tell me why."
He sighed. "That would be because of me."
Her gaze widening, but she said nothing.
"As I carried you from Creedville an arrow found its mark through your thigh.

By the time I noticed, you had lost too much blood. You were dying, Elayus. Even as I
held you, I felt the life leaving."

His hold grew tighter, almost painful. She could sense his uncertainty and fear in

the tone of his voice. It came deep and husky. To help, she continued to stroke along his
side and over the muscles of his arms, only to run her fingers up his hard chest again.

Elayus waited, knowing there was more. He was holding his breath, his gaze

focused on the curtains above them. When he exhaled, she knew he had worked out how
he would say the rest.

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"I could not live my lonely life anymore. If you died, I would have followed."

He turned those golden eyes toward her and she caught her breath. The intense emotions
swimming in their depth swelled her heart. Wishing to ease his suffering, she said, "I am
here with you Lysander. I did not die."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them.
"Nay, you did not because I could not let it happen. I changed your life, Elayus. I

spit on the fates, and gave you immortality. You are of me now, and will be through the
ages. Will you share eternity with me?"

If she had been standing, she would have fallen over. His revelation was so

unexpected that she was not sure what to say. Immortality did not mean much to her. It
meant living a few years longer than others. No, it was that he asked her to live with him
for all those extra years. "And what station will I hold in your life, Lysander? Will I be
leman or wife?"

His fingers raked into the hair at the back of her head, his hold tightened, lifting

her head so their gazes locked.

"You are the soul that breathes life into my body. The breeze that cools the heat

of the beast within. It was you that gave me a reason to carry on all those years ago.
Wife is not a strong enough term to share what is between us. But if you will except that
station and stay by my side, I will ask for it."

Before she could answer, Lysander stiffened. His gaze grew dark and distant, as

he turned his head to one side.

"What is it?"
"Someone is pounding on the front door."
Elayus concentrated using her new hearing. Aye, it was there. A banging like

someone using a rock on solid oak doors. The sound echoed through the castles
corridors. Amazed at her ability, she wondered what other talents she now held.

Lysander turned as if to get up, and Elayus grabbed his arm.
"Is it safe?"
"'Tis your sister."

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~Nine~



"Carolyn!" How could that be? Elayus turned to leap from the bed, but strong

warm fingers snagged her wrist. She turned back to Lysander. His gaze was narrowed,
his brow lowered.

"Beware, Elayus. Something is not right. Drieffous would not let her go. There

is no kindness in his heart."

"What worries you?"
"Many things." He shook his head, glancing toward the door then back to her.

"Now is the time to use that gift the gods gave you. Read her heart. It could save us pain
and injury. More importantly, tell no one of the changes in you. You are gifted with all
the powers I wield. Do not attempt to use any of them until I show you how. There are
those that would seek you out and kill you. If 'tis not greed for power, than 'tis fear that
will drive them.

"And another reason is I do not want Drieffous to know you carry my blood." He

ran his fingers along her cheek. "I fear I have done you more harm by laying this
responsibility on you. 'Tis a heavy load."

"Oh nay, my lord. To give one life is a miracle. To be here and loved by you is

something I will treasure more than life itself." A mischievous glint lit her gaze. "Or the
crown jewels."

A smile curved his lips. "Dress, your sister awaits."
"Where are my clothes?"
"In the chest by the hearth. I took the liberty of buying you new ones. The shift

and shirts were bloodstained beyond repair."

"You are most kind, my Lord." She turned, giving him a sultry glance.
"I shall enjoy removing them." A wicked smile curved his lips.

* * *

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As Elayus moved to open the front doors, she sensed Lysander's presence nearby,

even if she could not see him. It was decided they would learn more if he stayed out of
sight. The door swung in and brought a stumbling, wide-eyed woman into the hall. Her
frightened gaze landed on Elayus before she fell upon her, wrapping her arms around her
sister's neck.

"I never thought to see you again."
"Carolyn." Elayus hugged her tight. "How did you escape? By the gods, 'tis a

blessing." She felt a shudder run through Carolyn's body and her hold tighten.

"Drieffous is dead!"
"What?" Elayus pushed Carolyn back so their gazes met. Carolyn's eyes showed

her terror, they were red, wide, and unfocused.

"There was so much blood."
"How can this be?" Elayus was shocked and confused. "Come. Sit with me by

the fire."

Elayus circled Carolyn about the waist and led her into the study and over to one

of the velvet benches. Carolyn glanced around uncertain as she sat down.

"Is the Lord of Doomore in? Will he care that I am here?" She leaned closer to

Elayus. "Is he as evil as all say?"

Elayus sat next to her and laid a hand over her sisters. "Carolyn, the Lord will not

mind your visit. I find him to be considerate and just. You must not speak ill of him."

A strange look came across Carolyn's face and her lips twisted down before she

turned to gaze at the flames.

"Carolyn, again I am thrilled you are here and safe. Tell me how you escaped.

Leave nothing out. 'Tis a blessing from the gods."

Elayus felt uncertain until the caress of Lysander's hand along her neck and

shoulder gave comfort. He was letting her know he stood nearby, yet unseen. She drew
comfort in realizing his support.

"The last I knew, you where locked away somewhere in Lord Creedville's castle.

I feared greatly for your health and safety. Lord Doomore even went there looking for
you once and was sat upon by that monster."

Carolyn turned smiling. "How kind of him."
Elayus frowned. "Aye, it was."

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"That man held me belowground, but something terrible happened. Earlier today,

Lord Creedville came down unlocking the door to my room. He said I was to eat with
him. He told me to clean myself up and go to the main hall.

I did as he asked but when I got to the entrance, I heard screams, yells of pain,

wood cracking, and splintering as if an army had invaded us. I stooped down behind the
door afraid to move. I do not remember how long I sat there. But the light was fading
through a window when I got up to seek out what had happened."

The pause lengthened and Elayus squeezed Carolyn's hand, waiting.
"I had to leave, but became so terrified."
"Aye, Carolyn. I too would have panicked. How did you find a way out?"
Carolyn bowed her head. "I made myself walk into that room. The hall lay

covered in bodies. Maids and servants, their torn bodies covered the floor, and benches,
like some wild animals had feasted. But it was Drieffous' body that held my attention.

"He hung on the wall over the large hearth. His arms and legs stretched out as far

as they would go, ropes tied around his wrists and neck. His eyes were missing, as was
his heart. Someone had sliced his belly open because his innards hung between his legs."

Carolyn stuffed a fist to her mouth as tears fell from her wide eyes.
"Enough, Caro. You do not have to say more. 'Tis glad I am you are safe."
"This is not over, Elayus. The evil that did this is still out there. I feel its oily

presence in every shadow."

Elayus leaned over hugging her sister. "You are safe here. Lysander will keep

you from harm."

Carolyn shifted then sat back, pulling from Elayus' embrace. Her demure

changed instantly. She became stiff, closed off. "I am weary. Is there a place to lay my
head?"

"Aye, Caro. You may use my bed. Let me show you."
Elayus took her up to a well-lit room and knew Lysander had again been

thoughtful. She helped Carolyn undress and crawl in under the covers.

"Sleep thee well." Elayus offered as she went out the door. As she closed it, she

heard her sister's hard voice.

"Aye. You as well...sister."

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Elayus frowned. Something bothered her, yet she could not point to what. As she

walked downstairs and through the study door, she found Lysander reclined in a chair, his
feet crossed on the bench.

"What do you think?" She asked closing the door behind her.
"I would rather know what you thought." Those golden eyes rose to lock with

hers.

"I am not sure. It has been a long time, Lysander, and my senses are uncertain.

'Twas easier when I was young and without cares."

He waved her over and when she stood close enough, he grabbed her around the

waist and sat her on his lap.

"Tell me what you feel when you look into her heart. There has to be something."
"Aye. There is something not right with her or mayhap 'twas what she did not say

that bothers me."

"And in reading her heart? Where does it lie? Giver, taker, or protector?"
"'Tis unclear." She rubbed at her forehead, pinching her brow. "I just do not

know."

"I think 'tis clear but your heart is clouding the issue."
Elayus closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. "I've gone through so

many things these last few days. Mayhap 'tis just me, seeing shadows were there are
none. Carolyn is special. She has never been strong. She has always needed someone to
care for her, lead her down the right path, but she has never done anyone harm. She is
not evil."

"I need to know, Elayus. Is she a taker, giver, or protector? You must find the

truth. I place my life and soul in your hands. You must be sure."

"I know this. Please do not press me farther."
He pulled her tight against him, kissing her forehead then loosening his hold. "I

need to go out this night. I must look into what Carolyn has said about Drieffous. Stay
inside until I return. Open no window or door."

She smiled. "I hear and obey."
A wicked fire lit his gaze. "I will take advantage of that obedience when I

return."

* * *

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Heavy mist whirled in across the silent deserted courtyard of Creedville. The

oppressive feel of violence clung strongly to its gray walls.

Lysander's dark form came together within the swirling smoke to stand like a

wreath just outside the castles main hall. His black cloak flapped in the breeze. Nothing
escaped the sharp gaze of his golden eyes. The large wooden doors hung open on broken
hinges. The odor of death fell through these doors to escape out into the breeze and be
swept away.

He stepped over the threshold and into the dark hall. Death turned the hall into a

crypt. Lysander spoke a word and the wall torches flamed as well as the fire in the hearth
with a snapping whish. The light gave visual confirmation to what Carolyn had told
them.

Mutilated bodies of the servants lay about the floors. A woman lay across the

long table, her eyes wide and staring, her head lay at an odd angle, her body as well.
Something had broken her back. That would mean something with more strength than
any human held.

Turning toward the hearth, he glanced up finding what was left of, the all-

powerful, Lord of Creedville. He hung above the mantel, his arms and legs stretched out
away from his body, and his gut had been sliced open. Lysander had seen men drawn
and quartered before but this one was different. Drieffous' male rod was cut from his
groin. No man would do that. It was a crime of passion, not execution.

Suddenly a warning prickled along his neck. Dread seeped into his veins. There

was no evading army because warhorses had not torn up the courtyard. Therefore,
something unnatural had attacked here. Had the gargoyles attacked? They had the
strength, but why would they attack Drieffous? They were creatures of his making.
They would not act alone, but would follow. Or had they been changed in someway.
Magic was a two-sided sword. A spell must be done correctly or the end could become
something you are not prepared to deal with.

Another thought struck him. What if a new power had invaded? These times

where riffed with magical arts and the damned.

Lysander did not like the thoughts running through his head. Elayus' sister,

Carolyn, had been the only one to escape, this massacre. What if she had found out about
her mothers murder? That would have given her a reason to kill Drieffous. Yet, there
were many holes to that theory. Mayhap Carolyn was involved with another man who

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had the power to turn the gargoyles on Drieffous? If that were the case, why would she
run to him and not her lover?

He did not like the feel of this. His gut warned him the rules of the game had

changed and that they had gotten worst for Elayus and himself.

Lysander needed answers and Carolyn was the key. He had hoped Elayus would

be forced to tap into her gift, but now he would have to take Carolyn's blood and open up
her mind, to reveal all her secrets.

A scream of terror pieced his thoughts, causing panic to squeeze the breath from

him.

"Elayus!"

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~Ten~



Elayus became aware she was lying on something hard and damp. The scent of

earth and sea hung heavy in the air about her. There was a constant dripping and
splashing from somewhere close by, but no other sounds. She tried to open her eyes only
to find them covered. Taking note of other things about her person, she found her wrists
were tied together in front of her as well as her ankles. The left side of her face throbbed
where that demon had hit her.

Lysander had been right. She had not wanted to accept the truth of Carolyn being

a taker. Which did not always mean the person was bad, really. They only thought of
their wants and needs, and at times others would get hurt by just being in their way.

Now Lysander might die, because she had not been honest with herself.
She heard the shuffling of feet and a rain of pebbles as someone neared where she

lay. She was grabbed by the arm and jerked to a sitting position. Her hair was pulled as
the blindfold came off. The torchlight blinded her for a moment.

"Open your eyes sister dear. There is much I would say and more I would know."
Elayus blinked a few times before opening her eyes to meet Carolyn's hard gaze.
"Why are you doing this? Why did you let the gargoyles in? We were safe

within the keep. Now, they will kill us both."

"Nay, sister, only you. They follow my orders. I hold all the power. I deserve

respect. The only way to get that is through wealth and power. I now have both after
killing Drieffous."

"You killed him?" Elayus' mouth fell open. How could she have not seen the

truth? The answer came reluctant. She had not wanted it to. Now the blinders were off
and she saw what truly stood before her.

A wildness glared back from Carolyn's gaze. Her mind snapped unable to deal

with everything she had been handed. Her heart raged with lust, and hungered for power.
Darkness was growing within her soul.

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"Aye, and all who would oppose my taking of his castle."
"How? Drieffous was a powerful sorcerer."
"He brought me before all his servants and slaves, stripped me naked and used me

while everyone watched. I gave him what he wanted until he was satisfied and drunk.
Then he gave me the chant of conjuring. The two gargoyles stood hidden under cloaks
on ether side of the main door. I moved to them and spoke the spell, repeating it three
times. Drieffous in a drunken rage charged at me." An evil twist curled Carolyn's lips.
"That is when I gave my first command--to kill them all. I now hold the power of life
and death in my hands. No one will order me to do what I have no wish to do again."

"Carolyn...power is not to be played with. One wrong step and its cut is fatal."
"You know nothing about it." Carolyn snapped, her gaze over bright.
"You are correct, nor do I wish too. For if I must hurt others to obtain what I

desire, the price is too high. My soul is intact. I will not share it with the dark forces."
Even as she said this, Elayus wondered if she already had. She carried something within
that came from Lysander. Yet, she could not think of it as evil. To be a part of him was
beautiful.

"So you say, sister. But you already have, have not you? You have given

yourself to Lord Doomore. I see by your eyes I am right. Understand this, Elayus,
Lysander will be mine. He is an immortal, a vampire of great power. Did you know
this? Is it disturbing to know you had all this in your hands and you lose it to me? I will
have everything while you will be my servant, living only by my good will.

"With a powerful Lord as my puppet, my power will be ten fold what I already

carry, and if I take his blood, I will have all that I desire for eternity."

Elayus reach out to touch her sister's arm but Caroline jerked away. "You must

stop this, Caro. There is a sickness moving slowly through your veins, thick, black, oily.
An evil taint is upon your heart. Did Drieffous speak before you killed him?"

"He could not touch me for I had him drawn and quartered there in his own hall,

hung from the wall for all to see. Yet, spittle flew from his lips as he cursed. Drieffous
knew I had beaten him at his own game."

Carolyn sat up straight her features becoming serene. "Besides he had to die, he

murdered mother. It was only right."

"Woman!"

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Elayus shivered as that granite voice cut through their conversation. She glanced

toward the entrance of the cave to see the large cloaked form of the deman. Red eyes
burned from under its hood.

Carolyn answered. "Aye,"
"The Dark Prince comes," the gargoyle stated.
"Good." Carolyn nodded her head.
"You must stop what you have planned, Carolyn. Let me help you. I will find a

way to remove this taint of madness Drieffous has placed upon you head."

"When I am about to have everything I desire?" She waved her hand in the air.

"Nay! 'Tis you that are mad."

Carolyn turned to the gargoyles. "Take her out and tie her at the entrance. There

is a rope in the tree close by. Take her bound wrists and tie them over her head. I would
have Lysander see who is the better sister, the stronger woman. I will outshine you
Elayus, like I always have."

Elayus leaned away as the gargoyle stepped forward. Large stone claws reach out

for her. "Nay!"

He grabbed her arm, pulling her up then dragging her outside. "Wait, I can not

walk. My ankles are tied."

He grunted, yet continued to drag her.
Once outside the cave, the gargoyle stalked over to a tree. The minion wrapped

another rope around her wrists then threw the ropes end over a high branch. Her arms
were pulled overhead and tied.

Fear climbed up Elayus' chest to stir up her heartbeat. The fear built into panic.

Hanging the way she was, she could do nothing to protect herself. All manner of harm
wormed its way into her thoughts. She had no defense.

A soft breeze touched her thoughts then his strong voice filled her mind. I am

here, my love. Nothing will harm you and live.

She exhaled, relaxing her fear. Lysander would see to everything. Now that you

are here, Lysander, there is nothing I will fear.

At her reply, a wave of comfort passed over her and warmth filled her heart.

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~Eleven~



The clouds clashed in thick, black, rolling masses, turbulent and chaotic. Gusts of

wind bent trees over, snapping limbs. The ground trembled with each loud rumble of
thunder. Lightning flashed from one cloud to the next.

One of the gargoyles leapt into the sky while the other stood between the women.

All waited, glancing back and forth as if wondering when Lysander would appear.

Suddenly there he was. He attacked like a black streak, hitting one of the

gargoyles in the throat. The gargoyle faltered in flight. Next, a whip of lightning hit it in
the chest.

A slow glowing red spot bloomed within the gray stone. The minion moved

swiftly before Lysander attacked again. The gargoyle in the sky yelled to the one on the
ground. "Kill the women. He fights for them. 'Twill weaken him so the two of us can
defeat him."

Carolyn screamed and turned to run, causing the gargoyle to grab her first. Its

hand going for her throat. She clawed at its fingers. "Nay, I am your master. I brought
you the Dark Prince."

Another lightning bolt forked, exploding into the chest of the flying gargoyle, the

other one hit close to the struggling pair, throwing them to the ground with the blast of
the charge.

This was the first time Elayus had seen all of Lysander's power and rage. It was

more than intimidating. It was terrifying. She knew she had nothing to fear, but her gut
told her differently as she beheld the forces of nature he wielded.

Lysander stood in midair, a black cloak flipping in the breeze around him. His

hands were raised, a white charge snapped from his fingers. His golden eyes had turned
black. The wild wind whipped his long black hair across his shoulders and out behind
him. Lysander's full concentration landed on the two living stone gargoyles.

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When the one in the air tensed and dove for him, Lysander threw his arm out.

Lightning arched across the space between them to hit the gargoyle in the chest. The
force of the blow flipped and threw it into the trees. Snapping branches and a thud
sounded as the gargoyle landed hard in the bush.

Lysander swirled his hands, chanting a few words and a thick fog came in like a

bellowing blanket, covering all within its path.

The thick clouds surrounded Elayus. She could not hear or see anything but

Carolyn struggling and choking nearby. Nevertheless, she knew Lysander and another
murdering gargoyle stood close by.

Suddenly the fog swirled about her as if a force of wind disturbed it or someone

lurked close by. Her muscles tightened as she waited. Then Elayus heard Lysander in
her thoughts, a brush of his fingers along her arms before he materialized beside her.

"I need to show you how to shape shift. 'Twould save me some trouble."
"I am most eager to learn all that you would teach me."
The ropes around her wrists fell away. He picked her up and leaped into the air,

moving her a safe distance into the trees.

"Stay here until I finish. If I should fail, follow the shoreline back to my castle.

You will be safe there."

"Lysander, I fear for you. How does one destroy stone?"
"'Tis not easy." His lopsided grin warmed her heart then he was gone. The thick

fog lifted with his departure. It had been a shield only to see her freed.

Lightning struck again and the gargoyles screamed. A gust of wind blew the

remaining fog away and both minions were in the air headed for Lysander.

Elayus glanced toward where her sister had been. Carolyn was trying to pull

herself along the ground by one arm to a group of bushes. Elayus knew she should not
disobey Lysander and leave the safety of the woods but she could not see her sister suffer
alone.

Glancing skyward toward the fight, she made sure she would go unnoticed before

grabbing her skirts up and running over to take her sisters one good arm and pulling her
to safety.

Carolyn stared at her wide-eyed, pain marking her every feature. Blood ran from

the corner of her mouth and from her nose. One arm and both legs were broken from the

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way they lay at odd angles. No doubt, she had internal damage as well. The cloak of
death hung over her and tears spring to Elayus' eyes.

Carolyn grabbed her hand squeezing tightly. "You were right. I have been a

fool."

"Shh, all are born to make mistakes. 'Tis our true nature, so do not fret."
"Will you stay with me? I am afraid."
"Oh Caro." Elayus ran her hand along her sister's cheek. "You are my baby

sister. I would never leave you when you need me. I only wish I could help in
someway."

Carolyn coughed, choking. Elayus drew her sister up into her arms, holding her

head close to her breast, giving her the warmth on her body. Her sibling's body was cold,
the end drew close. "Carolyn, stay with me. I do not want to be alone."

"I am tired, Elayus."
A loud cracking and explosion of a tree nearby caused Elayus to scream and pull

Carolyn into the shelter of her body. The smell of charred wood filled the air as a roar of
rage came from one of the gargoyles.

When Elayus eased up to glance at Carolyn, she saw life had left. "Oh Caro. I

wish you speed and all that you desire in the next realm. I shall miss you." Tears fell
silently to wet her sister's hair. Elayus glanced up to see Lysander. She was not alone.
Not as long as she had him.

* * *

Lysander knew the odds were in the gargoyles favor. If either were to get a hold

on him, he would lose his powers. His only defense was to keep the charge in the storm
building. Twisted smiles of jagged teeth showed on their hideous faces as they moved on
opposite sides of him.

He waved his arms and lightning forked hitting both minions in the chest. He did

it again before they could recover a red glow surrounded their hearts. Lysander threw a
charge again only this time the gargoyles moved vertically one above and one below.
The lightning missed and hit the ground, throwing up dirt and debris. A tree exploded
into splinters and flames. Using the distraction, the minions charged. Lysander's speed
made him look like a streak of black. He felt a sharp pain along one leg where the
gargoyles nails sliced deep, but he could not let it stop him. They had gotten too close.
He waved lightning down again with his right hand then with the left, hitting them

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repeatedly so they could not advance again. Soon their whole chest and throat burned
white, hot. Their movements became more fluid as their body lost the hard strength of
the stone. They could not use their arms and their heads lay sideways upon their
shoulders.

Only now did they seem to realize Lysander had turned the tables. They both

turned to flee, but Lysander could not allow them to cool and harden only to return for
Elayus.

Lysander followed, bringing lightning again to hit them in the backs. Bringing

forth the deathblow from an ice bound soul; he opened his mouth and blew forth an icy
wind. The combination of heat and ice cracked the gargoyles hearts turning it to crystal
shards. Immediately the gargoyle exploded into thousands of glowing pieces of stone,
like falling stars thrown into the sea with hissing steam.

Lysander sighed with fatigue. No power or force could find all those pieces to put

them together, even if they wished to.

His hungry gaze turned, seeking the one other he wished most to hold, the one

who held his heart. And there she stood. Tears brightened her gaze yet they held his just
as intensely. The wind whipped her long tresses about her shoulders. It was her warm
welcome smile that caged the beast within his soul and brought him to her.

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~Epilogue~



Lysander lay next to Elayus, running his large hands up her arm, then across her

bare shoulder. She was perfection. The cream of her skin glowered in the candlelight.
She was warm and a blush covered her from their lovemaking. As he ran his palm over
her still hard nipple, she quivered and he met her gaze.

"How honored I am that you have given me the gift of your love."
"And I thought 'twas I that received this gift." She paused and smiled at him.

"And eternity to enjoy it fully."

His laugh came as a deep rumble, and joy filled her heart.
"Then you are not displeased that I made you immortal?"
"Nay, why would one be unhappy with paradise in your arms? I gladly accept

anything you would give me."

"Tainted pleasures are all I have to give. Yet, you accept them with a heat of pure

seduction.

"I have gloried in every tainted pleasure you have shown me and I can only pray

to the gods that you will share more and more. I hunger for the taste of you, the touch of
you, and the very scent of you. I love you so very much, it fills my heart to overflowing."
Elayus ran her hand over his chest.

"'Tis said, love can touch you once and last for eternity."
"So it has. And for us, two or three lifetimes."
"Aye, and then some." Lysander smiled, leaning forward, kissing her again.

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Excerpt from another book by Alyna Lachlan

BREEDERS



ONE

Small Town of Hillsborough, North Carolina

Early Spring

The rattle of chains caused Shayna to glance up to where her wrists were shackled

by iron cuffs and spread between two large marble posts. Terror shook through her body
as the roar of dragons echoed through the night. She couldn't breathe for fear her heart
would be torn from her chest. For some unknown crime, she was to be sacrificed to the
beast.

She stood alone to face her death, no family, and no loved one. All had deserted

her. With a blast of wind, a large opened jaw with sharp jagged teeth came out of the
darkness. The pain sliced into her as teeth grazed her sides and a river of blood splashed
across her feet. In pure terror, she jerked and twisted at the chains binding her, but she
was held fast. Then the face of the dragon changed, the fangs from a darker more deadly
foe claimed her as his.

"That's twenty-eight, fifty."
Jarred from her thoughts, she inhaled deeply, then shivered, glancing up at the

casher. She fumbled trough her purse and handed him the exact change for the items she
needed then grabbing the bags, walked out. The dream haunted her all day. She couldn't
seem to shake it.

Trembling with apprehension, Shayna glanced over the bags of groceries in her

arms, spotting her car as she exited the store. The lights from the mini market behind her
blinked out as it closed for the night, plunging the area into darkness. The black-faced
moon withheld comfort or any sense of security. A thick white vapor lay in patches on

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79

the ground and around the building. Its ghostly fingers crawled insidiously to clutch
more of the area in its greedy talons.

She had shopped late in this area many times in the past, but tonight a fear crept

along the back of her neck. A single streetlight buzzed loudly and flickered. Its fading
yellow glow, spreading over the deserted and cracked pavement.

Low whispers of voices converged around her from the unknown, causing Shayna

to jerk her gaze around, piercing every shadow for a malevolent attacker. She saw no
one, yet the fine hairs stood up along her arms and her heartbeat increased in speed. If
she believed in the undead, they surely were out tonight, but she feared it was something
or someone all too real. Shayna walked a little faster. She was being watched. She
could sense it, like the prickly feeling you get before someone appears from the dark.
The gaze was intense, calculating, and powerful. Her stomach rose to lodge in her throat.

Pushing the unlock button on her key ring, the door alarm beeped and the car's

interior lights came on. If she could just get in and lock the doors, she would be safe.

Shayna glanced around again just as she reached the car. They were near, so near,

she imagined bony fingers reaching out of the dark for her. She still couldn't see them,
but she sensed them. Somewhere out in the darkness, danger lurked.

Letting one bag slide down her stomach and drop to the ground, she opened the

car and tossed the other bag in. Falling into her seat, and slamming the door shut, she hit
the automatic lock. The reassuring thunk of the locks caused a suppressed shiver of
fright to convulse through her body. The gasps of her rapid breaths hung heavy in the
car. Suddenly, remembering horror movies where the attacker is always in the back seat,
she swallowed a scream as she jerked around to search behind her.

Empty. Only dark shadows held the seat and floorboard.
She glanced in all directions through the automobile windows. The parking lot

remained quiet. No one stood by the car ready to do her harm. She took a deep breath to
calm her jumpy nerves. What was the matter with her? What was so different about this
night to cause panic to eat away reason? Maybe this crazy feeling was some residual
effect from the nightmare. It had kept her on edge all day. She tried to put it out of her
mind, but it had been so real.

"Shayna, you are insane." Her own voice brought some comfort and reassurance

to the oppressive silence. "There is no one in sight."

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TAINTED PLEASURES

80

Laying her head back against the headrest, she took a deep breath. The far off

siren of a police car brought her back to the present. She laughed at her ridiculous
thoughts. It was only a dream. She had worked herself into a panic for no reason.

The last couple of days, her cursed intuition told her some threat hung by a thread

soon to drop, only nothing had happened, yet her other bouts with intuition over the last
ten years had generally been right.

"I'm just tired."
It had been a long day at the small herbalist shop where she worked, and she

needed to see it end by crawling under her mother's quilt an squishing the pillow up
under her head. With her keys still clutched in her shaking right hand, she leaned
forward and tried to insert the key into the ignition. It took a few misses before she found
it and the rumble of the engine made her sigh. She took one more look around the
parking lot before putting her car in gear, only to realize she had left one bag of groceries
sitting outside on the pavement. Shayna threw the car in park.

"Ah, toads and sticks!" She couldn't leave it. She was a girl with needs and

tampons were at the top of that list.

Peering into all the mirrors, she checked the area carefully, and could see no one.

Her muscles tightened as she positioned herself to open the door and make a quick grab
for the bag. Her breathing increased as her mind screamed a warning not put her life at
risk for bananas and tampons. But just as stubbornly, she vowed not to be ruled by
unreasonable fear. It was not in her nature to let her imagination control her.

Shayna inhaled, holding her breath as she opened the car door, leaning on it as she

reached out for the sack. That action proved a mistake.

A blinding white light came from above, encircling the car. Someone jerked the

door open, snapping the thick metal hinges, catching her off balance. She was falling
forward toward the pavement when unseen hands grabbed her. She glanced up and
screamed. Something cold and wet stung her eyes as a fine mist sprayed in her face. The
sickly sweet smell filled her lungs, closing off her airway.

Choking on another scream, she clawed at her attacker with her nails. As she lost

the battle, her vision distorted and blurred. A weakness invaded her limbs as the drug
took effect. The attacker couldn't be seen, yet she could feel him, as she clawed his chest
and throat. He pulled her up hard against him.

"Please! Don't hurt me."

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TAINTED PLEASURES

81

She was falling. Then darkness swallowed her world.

Visit her website at www.AlynaLachlan.com

See her other books at www.Venuspress.com


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