Vampire Legacy (Book 4 of the Dragon Heat series) (32 page)

“I do not know if his majesty will be there,” Arthur stated, as if trying to prepare her for disappointment. “The sun has just gone down in this part of the world and his majesty has taken on a strange habit of going for walks.”

Talia could barely acknowledge his words. Her heart drummed in her chest with the anticipation of seeing Petran alive and well again. She had been so sick with worry that she had almost convinced herself she would never lay eyes on him again. But now he was here, and just a river away from her.

“Milady,” Arthur called out as cold water touched her ankles. She did not turn around. Determined to take this to the end, she crossed the river without thinking of finding a bridge or a shallower path. Her servant’s trousers and boots got instantly soaked, her sodden cloak as well, and started pulling her back. No, nothing would stop her tonight, so she untied it from around her neck, and left it behind.

“All right, I shall wait here then,” she heard Arthur mumble.

A step at a time, she finally reached the front porch of the humble house. At the base, she paused. It was truly nothing like Petran’s castle back in Wallachia, but it felt like home somehow. She climbed up the narrow steps, her boots stomping on the wooden floor competing with the call of the strange cackling bird echoing somewhere in the early evening.

Out of nowhere, a colony of bats flew above the house startling her.

The hairs on her neck lifted and a strange feeling overwhelmed her. She looked around searching for whatever it was that spooked the bats out of their home in the trees, but found nothing amiss.

The noises in the jungle were a stark contrast with the quietness in the house. She took a few steps closer and peeked through one of the windows. There was only darkness. Arthur was right there was no one home.

Should she wait outside? Should she wait at all? Talia felt suddenly weak and doubtful. Her hands trembled, as her determination deserted her in the eleventh hour. Would Petran even want to see her? Would he resent her for making him lose everything? After all, he had to flee his home, he had lost his land, his title, his fortune and was now living in exile. Her conversation with her father hadn’t given her as many answers as she had hoped either. Apparently, Petran had risked his life to save her father, and had convinced him to rescue Talia from under Kalaur’s claws. But that had been it. Talia still didn’t know why Petran had kept his distance after going through all that trouble to save her.

Forcing her mind to stop wandering in foolishness, she took a deep breath and turned the handle. The door creaked open and revealed a small living room, barely furnished with a couch and a small dining table, giving it a false sense of ampleness. There were stairs to the second floor on the left hand side of the room and along the same wall, a coat stand stood.

A kalpak hat made of sable fur hung from one of the hooks.

Talia’s mind took her immediately back to the night when Petran confronted her about her rebellious doings in the red district. He had been watching her from the street opposite the rebels’ headquarters. He had looked so patrician with the thick fur coat over his broad shoulders and the distinguishing kalpak, so intimidating and so amazingly handsome at the same time.

Without noticing, she strolled to the garment and ran her fingers along its smooth surface. She just needed to feel it beneath her fingers, for somehow it made up for the months without Petran. It felt as if she was touching his arms, his taut belly, and toned biceps.

Suddenly, a long shadow cast across the inside of the room blocking the light from the lamps on the porch.

Talia held her breath.

She then slowly turned around knowing very well her moment of truth had arrived.

Petran stood in the doorway holding a bunch of wood logs in his arms.

His tall figure took up the entire frame. He wore a simple linen shirt and dark trousers, which he had tucked into his now muddy boots. His hair had grown slightly, but his beard was gone. Clean shaved, he looked even more stunning.

A strange combination of exhilaration, nervousness, anticipation, and fear washed over her. She felt like running to him and clutching herself around his neck, but her feet were stuck in place, her legs frozen, even while butterflies danced in her stomach.

And yet, Petran just stood where he was, in utter stillness. His features were barely visible, hidden by shadows, increasing Talia’s anxiety tenfold.

After a moment of dense silence, which felt like an eternity, she found her voice again. She took a shuddering breath and opened her mouth to say…what? What should she say to him?
I love you.
I missed you.

“Petran—”

“You should not have come, Natalia.”

Chapter Thirty Seven

Talia’s heart sank.

Her worst fears had come true—Petran resented her. She had been a fool to think the months apart had cut him as deeply as they had her or even that their separation had hurt him at all. His blunt words, almost a bark, had clearly stated his true feelings for her.

“You should not have come,” he repeated.

She pursed her lips tight, trying to contain the emptiness screaming in her head.

“Does your father know you are here?” Petran asked, still not moving from the door. He sounded flat, emotionless.

She shook her head affirmatively.

“How did you find me?” He stomped inside, slamming the door behind him, and then dropped the logs on the floor by the fireplace.

“Arthur...” Her voice sounded weak, choked, and pathetic. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “Arthur brought me here.”

Petran exhaled sharply then murmured a foul curse under his breath. “I will have to have a word with my chamberlain.”

“Please do not punish him,” she requested, trying hard to sound stronger than she felt. “He had no choice. I virtually forced him to bring me here.”

As if ignoring her presence, Petran crouched down by the logs and started sorting them into piles by the fireplace. “He disobeyed my orders.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

She wanted to go to him, to force him to stop being so rude and look at her but she didn’t, and he remained crouched in front of the fireplace, facing the other way.

“Why are you here, Natalia?” he finally asked. His tone was as flat as before but it carried a hint of darkness.

“My father told me about what you did.”

“What did I do?”

“You saved him. You found the cure for his illness, and took him to Vesuvius.”

Silence.

“And you proved to him that Kalaur was the one who spread the Curse in our country,” she added.

“What else?”

“Excuse me?”

“What else did he tell you?”

She pursed her lips not enjoying the game he seemed to be playing. “He agreed that if you both joined forces, we might have a chance of defeating Kalaur.”

Pause.

“That is why I went to your castle and—”

“You went to my castle?” Petran stood up, finally facing her eye to eye. “By Apa Dobrý, woman, are you insane? Did you not know that after getting the Desert Daemons to do his bidding, Kalaur turned it into his new headquarters?”

“No, I did not know that,” she retorted. “And that is exactly my point. Kalaur has managed to block all communications, I didn’t know if you were even alive, or if you had died, if you still…I had to know.”

“And even if you knew my castle had been invaded, you’d still have gone there.” It wasn’t a question.

She looked away, understanding very well of what he was accusing her. “It’s not stubbornness when you are ready to do what it takes for what is right.”

A bitter chuckle reverberated from his chest. “And risk your life for those who do not deserve you. You will never change, Natalia, you will never learn.”

A small frown wrinkled her forehead. “Learn what? Learn how to turn my heart off, to turn a blind eye to my people’s suffering? If that is what you mean, by the love of Apa Dobrý, I do hope you are right and I shall never learn.”

It was his turn to look away. He seemed more resigned to accept her but nonetheless, if he did he did not voice it. The truth was, they were a world apart and always had been. What was she thinking? Did she truly believe they would find a way of being together, capable of a
happy forever after
like in those silly romantic novels?

Tears filled her eyes as the cruel reality sank in. “You were right, coming here was a mistake.” A huge mistake. “Good bye, Petran,” she murmured more to herself than to him, and walked toward the door.

The air shifted around her and just before her hand reached the door handle, Petran materialized in front of her blocking her exit. Her heart jumped into her throat. His dark green eyes seemed haunted, troubled, and so mesmerizing all at the same time. He towered over her, and she froze not knowing what to do or what to expect.

“Why did you come here, Talia?” he whispered, his voice sounding more strained than hers had been.

“My father needs your help to defeat Kalaur.”

“Why did you really come here, Talia?” he repeated the question without giving her any room for an escape.

She swallowed dry. “I needed to know.”

“Know what?”

If you had missed me as much as I had you.
“If you were alive,” she lied. “My father told me the lengths you had gone to save him.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “What else has he told you?”

Why was he so fixated on what her father had told her? What did it matter?

She shrugged, trying to contain her frustration and the churn in her belly, which seemed to come with Petran’s nearness. He was so close she could smell the forest on his skin, and the scent of wood in his battered shirt. Yes, he looked much more handsome clean shaved. His square jaw was more prominent, and his hairless face delineated his mouth and patrician nose.

“My father told me only the bare minimum. He thinks he fooled me, but I know better.”

He stared at her with those penetrating green eyes and for a moment, she got lost in them.

“You should not have come, Talia,” he whispered again but this time, it sounded like a plea not an accusation.

“I had to come.”

“
Why?
”

Because her heart sank at every sunrise when she realized one more night had ended without him seeking her out. “How could I have not, after everything that has happened, Petran?”

His gaze turned hungry with a mix of longing and wariness at the same time. For a moment, she thought he would take her into his arms and kiss her, and her heart skipped a beat in anticipation.

But he did not.

She released a tired breath and decided to leave before she lost the last ounces of dignity she had left. “This was obviously a mistake. I am sorry for everything I caused you, Petran. I wish you good luck in claiming your castle back.”

Feeling the large lump in her throat choking her, she walked around him and crossed the threshold between the living room and the front porch, the one that was the perfect representation of the separation between their worlds. Her boots stomped down the narrow stairs and the warm wind blew against her face.

Merciful Soartas, why had you not stopped me from coming after him?

This was too painful. She had to get out of here before she exploded. She had to find a hole to sink into and never come out of again.

But before her boots took the next step, strong hands pulled her back, forcing her to stop in her tracks. Suddenly, she was spun around, and found herself enveloped in Petran’s arms.

“How dare you come here, fill me with hope, and then leave?” he growled against her lips. “How dare you give up on me so easily?”

Oh.

His mouth claimed hers before her mind could register what was happening. His hand cupped the base of her head while his lips caressed hers in a delicious dance.

Oh, Mighty Soartas, finally!

Talia returned his kiss in kind, not wanting to open her eyes for fear of this being just a dream. But his body felt like a wall of muscles against hers, and his thick arms held her tight against his chest. It was real.

She ran her hands up and around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to feel more of him. By Apa Dobrý, she had missed him. She had missed the way he lit her up with a single touch.

Without a word or letting her come up for air, Petran lifted her in his arms and carried her back into the house. His boots clomped on the floor as loud as her heartbeats. She thought he was taking her to his room upstairs but he did not. Instead, he sat her on the table in the middle of the living room, opened her legs, and hauled her against him. Her intimate parts met pure hardness and lit up her core instantly with a slick moistness dampening her undergarments. His lips left hers and ravaged her neckline. He wasn’t being careful with her. His touch was raw, needy, and desperate. His grip was strong on her thighs, and his teeth scraped her skin, almost ripping it. And she was loving every bit of it.

“Never thought I’d say this, but you look very sexy in a lad’s clothes,” he murmured tugging at the waist of her oversized trousers. “Too sexy, in fact.”

With a flick of his wrists, he undid the belt freeing her body of constraints. His hands found naked skin and she trembled in response. He ran his hand over her flat belly then under the shirt, to caress the base of her breast, before plucking one nipple. Another shudder ripped through Talia’s spine and she closed her eyes, moaning for more.

Her loose shirt was flung out of her shoulders then the sound of clothes being torn apart reached her ears as he ripped her trousers out of the way.

Petran’s dark gaze on her naked body was like one of a hungry animal, making her quiver.

With large, steady fingers, he caressed her inner thighs from the knees all the way to the sides of her intimate parts. Then, he hooked the backs of her legs and slid her closer, to the very edge of the table, before forcing her legs further apart, baring her completely to his whims.

Talia let out a surprised cry. She had never been touched like that, or gazed upon like this before, with such desire, or such hunger. It was mind-boggling and addictive. When the back of his fingers brushed over her outer labia, she yelped in ecstasy.

“Oh, my sweet, how I missed your wet sex,” he murmured as he crouched in front of her between her open legs, his fangs elongating to their maximum extension, in synch with the bulge in his trousers.

Talia trembled from head to toe. She knew what he was about to do yet the anticipation ripped through her. Her knees fell in, in a natural response, but he held them apart once again.

“I love your smell, Talia, I need to get lost in it tonight.”

And she needed to get lost in him too.

He parted his lips inches from her naked core and ran his tongue from bottom to top—from the deep end to her nub—in one steady stroke, one devastating stroke.

Talia cried out as her head fell back.

And then he did it again.

One stroke from her intimate core to the top of her folds was all it took. She shuddered, she quivered, and then he finally decided to give it all to her.

His mouth descended fully on her, sucking hard. Then his fingers found her clit and she was completely lost. Her hips rocked furiously, in tune with the lapping of his tongue and motion of his fingers. A dull ache grew inside her, and Talia forgot about the world. Nothing else mattered, nothing but Petran’s touch, tongue and fingers, which now penetrated her while he sucked at her deeply. He was rough, decisive and knew exactly how to drive her wild. Her trembling increased and the agony between her legs grew to unbearable heights. Petran increased his tempo and intensity as if knowing she was close.

Then he was gone.

Utterly confused, Talia lifted her head up, panting. What was he doing?

She found him standing naked in front of her. His chest rose and fell with every sharp intake of air, his eyes were red as blood, his fangs fully elongated, and his shaft…oh, dear Soartas…his shaft looked impossibly hard and thick, even bigger than she remembered.

Like a lion, he stalked back between her legs and positioned it an inch from her exposed sex. Then his left hand locked her in place while the other cupped the base of her neck, forcing her to look into his eyes. Talia gasped as an overwhelming mixture of fear, desire, and need ripped through her.

Without a word, just holding her gaze on his, Petran plunged inside her in one long stroke.

And then Talia was truly lost.