Love in the Fortress (7 page)

Sandra’s voice caught on a sob. She didn’t want to burden Yvonne, but she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’m to be bonded in a few hours. Margetta has picked out a wraith for me.”

The troll’s three forehead ridges tightened. “Oh, no. I’ve feared this night would come and with the war heating up I’m not surprised. But my sweet Sandra, no. No, no, no, no.”

Sandra was considerably taller than the troll, who squeezed both her arms tight.

Yvonne then released her and looked around. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

She left the kitchen and when she returned, she had a stool in her hands. Setting it on the floor near Sandra, she waved her forward. “Help me up here.”

Sandra held the troll’s hand as she assisted her in climbing up on the stool, though Sandra had no idea why she wanted it in the middle of the kitchen and not even close to one of the cupboards.

But when she was standing on it and facing Sandra, she gestured for Sandra to come close.

In this position, Sandra actually met the troll’s gaze eye-to-eye. “What is it?”

“Sandra, you’ve been as dear to me as my own daughter, Eva. And I would do anything I could to keep this from happening to you. I’m so sorry. Now come here.”

When the housekeeper opened her arms, Sandra finally understood. She practically fell on the woman and had to work to keep the troll balanced on the stool. But when Yvonne was steady, she held Sandra close, wrapping her up in her short, troll arms, the hug exactly what Sandra needed.

Nothing had felt better to her in a long, long time.

Except being with Griffin.

But how was she to keep the bonding nightmare from happening?

When Yvonne released her, Sandra helped her get down from the stool, returning it herself to the nearest pantry. While there, she remained smelling the unique food-stuff redolence, a sort of combination of flours, dried beans, and cookies in canisters.

For some reason, the scent calmed her and she could think. Yvonne’s comforting embrace had helped as well to settle her mind.

Her thoughts turned to the war and to all the slaves who’d died in the fortress over the decades. She’d grieved for every death and each time promised herself that if she ever had the chance to make a difference she would take it, no matter the consequences.

An otherworld serenity came over Sandra, an acceptance that she might not survive the night. Somehow, that acceptance began to shape itself into a profound resolution to do whatever she had to do to assist Regan in leaving the Ancient Fae’s fortress, even if it meant stealing the guard’s key to the tower cell.

She closed her eyes and after bidding wisdom from the Goddess, she held her hands palms up and let her mind flow in ways it perhaps never had before.

She’d felt different since the lovemaking with Griffin, though until this moment she hadn’t thought to analyze it. For one thing, despite the fact that she’d fed Griffin, her heart felt oddly laden again, as though …

Her eyes widened and she put a hand to her chest. She felt it now, a heaviness that wasn’t emotional at all, but rather very physical. Something a blood rose would experience.

She gasped. She’d heard all the rumors, especially the latest ones about the shifter Olivia, who was now mate-bonded to Mastyr Zane. They’d become a Nine Realms power couple and all because Olivia was a blood rose.

Sandra didn’t spend even a few seconds denying what she knew in the depths of her spirit to be true. She was a blood rose.

She was building a fresh supply even as she stood in the pantry, only it didn’t feel Griffin-specific. Instead, all she had to do was think of the several unbonded mastyr vampires roaming the camp and waiting for wraiths with which to mate, and a profound need to feed each and every one of them rose within her.

When she found herself turning toward the door, ready to head out to find these vampires, she forced herself to hold only Griffin within her mind. She’d heard of this, as well. So long as she remained an unbonded blood rose, she’d crave every mastyr she came into contact with.

Oh, dear sweet Goddess.

As she focused on Griffin, she felt something rise within her, so powerful, like a geyser within her heart, that for a moment she couldn’t breathe. It was as though the new sensations she was experiencing, the need to offer sustenance to a mastyr vampire, became exponentially enhanced when she thought of Griffin.

The reason had to be simple; she’d made love with him. But was it something more? Something that came from her heart?

She knew the truth again without wasting time denying what she felt. Her love for Griffin enhanced what she felt as a blood rose. She’d probably been in love with him from the moment she’d entered that holding pen a year ago and found him defending the newly enslaved women against three powerful shifters. He was a man who would go the distance, who would die trying to protect those he loved, and who probably had already guessed what Sandra had so recently become.

She trembled now from excitement and hope and from the love she felt for the vampire.

The next moment, however, she shaded her eyes and tears bloomed. The reality of fortress life, the spies who roamed the halls for Margetta, and that Griffin was required to be outside sparring until dawn, all worked against them.

But if something didn’t happen in the next few hours, Margetta would force the wraith-bond on her and there would be nothing she could do to escape it.

Whatever she chose to do, she had to be swift and she had to be careful.

First, she decided to path Griffin, to see if she even could at such a distance. She’d never done so before, but she was a blood rose now and her powers had increased.
Griffin, are you there? I’m in trouble.

When she didn’t hear a response she tried again. And again.

~ ~ ~

Griffin sparred with a powerful shifter, mate-bonded with a wraith who floated above them shrieking the whole time. He used his battle energy in bursts and an axe in his left hand.

The shifter had once served in the Swanicott Shifter Brigade when he’d left to join Margetta’s forces and engage in the Invictus bond. But he was no match for Griffin.

As Griffin levitated with sudden speed, and sent a minute amount of his battle vibration straight into the shifter’s head, the shifter crumpled to the dirt.

Griffin was barely winded, but he feigned what his usual response would be and bent over at the knees, waiting with axe in hand for the shifter to revive.

Griffin, are you there?

The words were faint but unmistakable now that he wasn’t fighting.
Sandra?

Thank the Goddess you can hear me. I’m in trouble. I’m a blood rose, but I’m guessing you know that by now.

I do.
He remained where he was and watched as the shifter slowly began to regain consciousness. Buying a little more time, he sent another blast and hit him in the chest. He rolled on his back, limp.
Tell me everything.

He listened as she spoke of the new supply she was building for him, then a string of panicky words about needing to feed all the mastyrs in the camp.

At that, he tossed the axe onto the nearby weapons pile, rose up and moved in a circle. He shoved his hands through his long hair, dislodging the leather strap. He re-tied it.

But the thought of Sandra feeding even a lesser mastyr had his fangs vibrating heavily in his gums. He’d heard about the almost caveman-like visceral response to the blood rose, a drive to possess her and keep her away from all others.

There’s more. Margetta intends to bond me to a wraith near dawn.

Margetta had already told him and he’d been struggling to create a plan to get them both out of the fortress within the next few hours. Nothing had come to him and maybe that’s the reason he lost it. But he suddenly cursed long and loud, then roared into the night. He shouted every foul word that would come to mind.

Only when he stopped, he realized the entire sparring line now stared at him, including Fulton who was levitating in his direction.

Fulton. A mastyr vampire.

I’m coming to you. Somehow. Now. But I’ve got deal with Fulton.

He had to think fast, to get the hell out of there without tangling with Fulton. But how?

Then he knew what to do, the one thing that would make sense to every vampire in the sparring line, including Fulton.

“I need to feed,” he shouted. “Now.” Without one more word of explanation, he bolted toward the female slaves’ quarters, those women who serviced the men with sex as well as the vampires from their veins.

When he was out of eyesight, he slowed but retained his direction. He had to think. How was he to get into the fortress at this hour? Yet getting there seemed more critical than anything else he’d experienced in the past year. He had to get back to Sandra and he had to bond with her. And it had to be now.

The lay-out of the fortress came to mind. The central entrance, though at a distance from the kitchen, was sheltered by tall hedges surrounding a large, rose garden and an expansive lawn. In that respect it was completely hidden from the army camp.

He made the decision, because it seemed the only way to get into the fortress with the least amount of eyes on him. He levitated swiftly and as soon as he saw the breach in the hedge that indicated the entrance to the garden, he slipped through, then flew to the carved double doors of the main entrance.

He pulled them wide and walked in.

Sandra, I’m in the entrance hall. I need you to come to me now. We’ve got to figure this out.

I’ll be right there.

He drew deep breaths. He was filthy from sparring and this part of the fortress was full of marble and silk. Even his boots were dirty.

He heard running footsteps, light quick swishes on the stone then the marble floor. Sandra was forty feet away when he caught sight of her at the end of the long hall. She began running in earnest, levitating at the end.

His throat tightened as he headed in her direction, skirting a table with a tall flower arrangement to finally catch her up in his arms. She didn’t seem to care that he was sweaty and once more covered in mud or that all the grime would no doubt end up on her white gown.

She kissed him as though her life depended on it and he returned the favor.

Back to my room, Griffin, now. You have to bond with me. You have to.

I want nothing more.

She drew back just enough to look at him.
Carry me and levitate. If you go fast, we can avoid the next shift of maids who will be heading up here in about two minutes.

He didn’t need another command. He held her tight against him and flew faster than ever, straight up the servants’ stairs, along the hall and back to her bedroom.

Once inside, she locked the door again. When he stepped away from her he was appalled. “I got your gown dirty.”

“I don’t care.”

He looked at his arms, at the recent sparring bruises, at the still healing cuts, at the streaks of mud, and he didn’t want to think about what he smelled like. “I’m taking a shower.”

Her smile was crooked. “Then I’ll help.”

At that, his lips curved. “You can’t fit in there with me. The shower’s barely big enough for me as it is.”

“I know that. But I can stand nearby and soap things up. Big things.”

He groaned. They were playing with fire, because if either of them was caught … He wouldn’t think about that.

Instead, he moved into the bathroom and got rid of his boots, then his leathers. He’d been given a vest to wear and stripped that off next.

He heard an odd sound coming from Sandra. Turning toward, her, she had her hand to her mouth and her eyes were wide. Her gaze was on his ass.

He smiled again. He knew the effect a powerful male body had on women. Every damn muscle was a promise of good things to come.

He didn’t close the curtain, despite that the floor would get wet. He turned the spray on and washed his hair. His whole body was flushed with need so he kept the water on the cold side. Even then, his cock was rigid and refused to settle down. Although it didn’t help when she stripped off her own gown, bra and panties, then drew close and took the soap in her hands.

She washed his cock with care and a sensual touch that had him groaning. She shook her head at him.
No noises.
She then stroked him with both hands while she leaned up and kissed him.

He’d made love to her earlier but his drive toward her was like nothing he’d known before. His whole body became a vibration of energy and need. He felt his mating vibration hum within his chest.

I need you in bed.

She let her hands fall away then lifted them to the spray of water. She nodded, then dried her hands and moved slowly toward the door.

Once there, she stayed put for a moment, her gaze sliding down his body. She put her hands on her breasts and massaged both of them, her lips parting.

His cock jerked once, letting him know he needed to move things along. He cleaned up as best he could, left the shower and toweled dry. By then she’d moved back to the bed.

Only this time, she sat at the edge of the mattress, her legs spread and one hand moving slowly in the direction of the thatch of red hair between her legs.

He was hard as a rock as he moved toward the bed, his hand on his heavy cock, supporting himself as he walked.

Once he reached her, he pushed her back on the bed, then dropped to his knees. Lifting her legs to settle them on his shoulders, he said, “Allow me.”

He had to shush the moan that came from her throat.

The moment he settled his tongue against her sex and her body writhed, he pathed,
You taste like rosemary and sage and I can’t get enough.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sandra lay panting. She’d forgotten how intense sex could be with a man she loved, though the experience with Griffin had definitely been enhanced because she was a blood rose.

Your tongue, Griffin. So much pleasure.

Good. Now look at me.

She lifted up on her elbows and met his gaze. His light blue eyes glinted as he laved her folds and teased her with flicks of his tongue. She gasped at each sensual touch.