Seduced by the Beast (9 page)

            Desire?  If this
insatiable need to claim and possess her was desire, then yes, he felt such
feelings, but fire eventually burned itself out, leaving only ash behind.  He
could not give over to insanity.  It would spell her demise, and likely his
own.  “You know no human could rule beside me over the hunters.  They are too
savage.  She would be torn apart.  Your own people lick their chops when she
passes by.”

            “You needs must
mark her, until her scent is your own.  Their control is hard pressed.  Times
are lean.  The land has been hunted until kill is scarce.  Each day we go
deeper into the wilds.”

            “It is the rise
of the vampires.  They leech the land until it is nigh barren.”

            Blasien rubbed
his chin thoughtfully.  “They will sate themselves and soon go underground, as
they have in the past.”

            Raphael shook his
head, slowly crossed his arms over his chest.  “I fear it is different this
time.  Something calls, yet I do not know what.  I feel war is brewing, distant
but palpable.  That this woman is here only proves the humans have lost their
respect for our borders and fear of retaliation.”

            “They think us a
dumping ground then?”

            “For
undesirables.  They have no respect for the land, devour its resources with their
greed.  Shadowmere is tempting with its unspoiled riches.  Your own capture
proves they grow bolder.  The rise of the vampires will only worsen the
situation.  The pact may soon be null.”

            Blasien tensed in
surprise at his words.  “Ill news you bring from the border.”

            “It is suspicion
only at this time.”

            “I’ve learned to
trust your instincts with my life, Raphael.  Your senses are the uncanny of any
I’ve known.”

            “I thank you. 
There are times I feel my age in the weariness of my soul.”

            Blasien smiled
faintly. “I know a cure for your ills, but you do not listen.”

            Raphael waved the
matter away.  He knew all longed for him to settle with a woman and produce an
heir worthy of carrying on after he was gone, but now was not the time to
consider such things.  “That is not my concern this day.  I came here seeking
Syrian.”

            “He is seeking
within the flame.  Mayhap he felt this call, as you put it.  He is acting most
strange.”

            “I wish to be
alerted the moment he returns from the portal.”

            “Even this night?”

            “Even so.  The
woman is human but not.  She lives under an enchantment that sees her change
with the sun’s rise.  She must speak to Syrian when I do, and yet I feel we
cannot wait for tomorrow night.  The morning will be too late.”

            Blasien clasped
his shoulder in sympathy, and they both rose from the stone step.  “I will send
for you when he comes from the seer’s flame.  For now, you must follow my
advice and mark the woman as your own.”  At Raphael’s scowl, he added, “You
need not bond with her, as well you know.  Under this enchantment, the old laws
are hazy.”

            Raphael nodded. 
He knew well ancient law.  Had she not been part changeling, he would never
have taken her so deeply into Shadowmere.  He was a keeper of the law, bound by
it as all inhabitants were bound.

            There were but
two ways to be marked, one was permanent, the other was sexual claiming. 
Marking Swan would be distasteful—not because he didn’t desire to bury himself
inside her, but because she forbade him to touch her—a request he would honor
were circumstances different.  Danger was afoot, however, even here in this
protected alcove.  The vampires’ presence was proof enough of that, even had he
been blind to the gathering of leopards to the scent of prey.  He liked not the
thought of forcing her to his will, but if she did not give in, worse would
befall her ... and that was a possibility he would not allow happen.

            Like it or not,
as long as she dwelled in the land of Shadowmere, she was bound by its laws.

* * * *

            The elder bowed
deeply at the door to her room before leaving her.  Swan opened the door and
allowed it to swing open slowly, half expecting to be jumped where she stood. 
No attack came, and she chuckled at her overactive imagination before entering.

            Swan took one
step into the room and stopped dead in her tracks.  A bed swallowed the space,
obscenely huge and dripping blood red satin, from its coverings to the canopy
draped in flowing crimson.  Never had she seen a room so blatantly designed for
pleasure.  Anyone else entering would leap to the same conclusion.

            Hesitant, she
walked fully inside, close enough to touch the decadent satin.  She took a
corner in her hand, smoothing her fingers over the shining material, reveling
in the silken feel, so rich and rare in quality and color.  The deep red came
from a fragile flower that was notoriously difficult to find and harvest.  Even
in her own realm such luxury could only be afforded by the wealthiest among
them.  That this house expended so much on a guest was a mark of extreme generosity
and riches.

            Thinking on it
recalled painful memories.  She missed her home--and her sister.  Swan wondered
how Nila was adjusting to rule, and how she faired with Morvere at her side. 
He would not harm her--she was too valuable as heir apparent--but Swan prayed
Nila would not be bound to him in marriage before she could return.  Marriage
was his best chance for gaining rulership.  If Nila didn’t give in willingly,
Swan had no doubt Morvere would ensorcel her will with some enchantment.  Her
disappearance would buy Nila some time, but not much.

            “You must be Lady
Swan,” a soft feminine voice spoke behind her.

            Swan guiltily
dropped her handhold and turned to see a woman standing in the door bearing a
tray of meat, cheese, and fruit.  Her raven hair hung well past her hips,
longer than Swan’s own waist-length locks.  It was tamed with braids that swept
back from her temples.  Her skin was the color of chocolate, as exotic as the
slant of her eyes.

            How wonderful to
see a woman of her own color and mode.  It was a rarity of these days and
times.  Their ancestors had been hunted into near extinction in the old days
before man had turned on the beastmen with their unnatural hatred of all that
was different.

            Once there was a
time when she’d been saddened by the fate of her people.  And though she no
longer dwelt upon what could have been, she’d learned to embrace her difference
as something special and extraordinary.  Indeed, her hand in marriage had been
a prize many were willing to die for.

            The woman moved
into the room and set the tray down on a squat table beside the bed, then
turned back to her.

            Her gown, flowing
loose around her legs, emphasized her breasts and couldn’t quite conceal the rounded
swell of her belly.  She was most definitely with child.

            “I am,” Swan
said, nodding as she finally answered the woman.

            The woman smiled,
friendly and graceful.  Swan felt immediately at ease.  “I am Lady Ashanti,
Blasien’s wife.”

            “I thank you for
your hospitality, my lady.  Please, call me Swan.”

            “And you must
call me Ashanti.”  She gestured toward a pair of chairs sitting before the fire
that Swan had scarce noticed.

            Ashanti sat with
little grace, her heavy belly making her awkward.  Swan followed suit.

            “I came to offer
you some company.  Shadowmere can be a brutal land.”

            “Yes, it can.”

            “It has been too
long since I’ve seen a woman of my kind.  You are an outworlder, are you not?”

            Swan looked at
her, surprised at her canniness.  “Yes, how did you know?”  It was to be
expected she would be regarded as an outsider--she was, but Lady Ashanti had
seemed ... well, like a normal to her.  Not one to pick up on the subtleties of
human or not.  But then, she’d never ventured from Avonleigh before, customs
were likely different in other parts.

            “I was human once. 
Those alike can recognize one another.  Though, I’d never thought Raphael to
break old law and bring another into Shadowmere.”

            “You were human? 
And now you bear a beas--forgive me.  My mouth runs away with me.”  Swan
blushed at her rude remark.

            Ashanti
chuckled.  “I was much the same as you, in the beginning.  I find no offense in
the term beastman, or beastwoman.  That is what they are, what I am.”

            How she could be
both was beyond Swan’s reckoning.  It seemed an improbability, yet she couldn’t
deny that the woman lived here among the beastmen when humans did not.  There
had to be some truth to it.  And if so, she would bear her husband’s child--a
halfling?  The rules she’d thought herself just beginning to understand were
dashed away.  “How can you be human, but not?”

            “Circumstance
brought us together.  I was cursed, much the same as you.  Blasien saved me, as
I did him,” Ashanti said, elaborating on the matter no further.

            Ashanti’s eyes
shone with love and happiness.  Such depth of feeling warmed Swan’s soul.  That
such could be found between two races astounded her, for it did not seem
possible for her.  Here, Swan felt like she was merely some tasty morsel to be
devoured.

            “I warn you,
though, if Raphael seeks the blood bond ceremony, you must wrestle a promise
from him for it to be completed in private.”  She laughed softly, a faraway
look in her eyes.  Ashanti continued, “They can know your mind once a
connection is formed.  It is why they are such renowned lovers, knowing your
wants and desires before you even truly understand them yourself.  Ah, you do
not know this?”

            That couldn’t
possibly be true.  It was too ... too unbelievable.  They were not mages, to
delve into the minds of others.  Even Morvere had not the power to read her
mind.  She dismissed it as fable propagated by old wives.  “There is nothing
between us.”

            Ashanti slanted
her a shrewd look that spoke volumes.  “Nothing but reluctance, I gather?”

            Swan flushed at
her knowing look, feeling as though her transgressions were scrawled across her
face.  Could everyone read her so easily?  It was no wonder she’d landed
herself in such a predicament.  Raphael had not helped matters at all either. 
She’d become so distracted from her purpose by him it was disgraceful.  No
responsible ruler would put anything before her people, and she must remember
to do the same.  Any less would be a betrayal of trust and duty.

            “Raphael is a
hunter.  They are different than other beastmen.  Vampiric powers flow through
their veins, allowing them the ability to touch without being near.  Hunters
can drink blood or suffuse their power through sensual means.  Or so I’ve been
told.”

            “Why do you tell
me these things?” Swan asked, looking at her with suspicion.

            “Just as
warning.  I had no foreknowledge myself.  I would not have my brethren helpless
to defend herself.  Besides, I enjoy the thought of Raphael having to work hard
for a lady’s favor.”  She laughed softly, cradling her belly.  “The men here
are used to getting their way in everything.  A challenge is hard to find.”

            “Thank you, but I
have no need to protect myself from Raphael.  He helps me of his own free
will.”  And there was no challenge as far as she was concerned.  No one would
possess her let alone control her mind.  To believe talk of mind magic would
drive her mad.  It couldn’t possibly be true, but she realized she would have
to question him to make certain.  Then again, what man had ever told her the
truth?

            “I think he may
have more on his hands than he is aware.”

            Ashanti struggled
to sit forward, and Swan rose and helped her to her feet.  “My thanks, Swan.  I
will be glad to hold this babe in my arms rather than my belly.  Come, eat. 
Raphael joins you soon.  You should be ready for his arrival.”

            Surprised, Swan
stopped mid-motion, unable to resist looking at the bed.  There would be no
avoiding it once he was in the room.  Nobility fled in a rush of unbidden
heat.  “He can’t possibly sleep here.  It isn’t proper.”

            “But it is. 
Human rules do not apply here, dear Swan.”  She gave her a pitying look.  “As
women, we adapt.  I suggest you not leave this room.  You’ll find in
Shadowmere, as a human, having a man’s protection is vital to your survival
whether you wish it or not.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

            Swan heard soft
footsteps stop before her door and knew immediately who stood there. 
Determined not to be caught without defense, she hurried from her position near
the fire, around the largest obstacle in the room--the bed.