Vampire Legacy (Book 4 of the Dragon Heat series) (21 page)

He pulled out just to slide back in. Once again, her legs trembled in response, her core burned in desire, and her nipples, hanging lose in the air, tingled.
Mighty Soartas!

Her breathing turned into panting, as Petran pull out one more time and thrust in deeper, all the way in. This time, he didn’t give her a moment to register anything else. He rocked his hips back and forth, entering her, pumping inside in a frantic rhythm. The muffled sounds of skin slapping against skin, the smell of sexual juices, the feel of his hands holding her captive, and the knowledge that she had no control over what was happening, took Talia over the edge. She lifted her hips higher up, as his cock pushed in, hitting an impossible depth never reached before.

Her world exploded.

It was so unexpected. As if her need was building, and then it simply burst into flames—out of the blue. Somehow, he had found a secret trigger to her ultimate pleasure.

Unable to contain herself, she trembled and opened her mouth to emit a muted cry. In the height of that amazing orgasm, she barely felt Petran’s fangs pierce her skin. The incredible wave of heat mixed with electricity seemed to go on forever. The more Petran rocked inside her all the while drinking from her, the more she spilled her juices around his cock, and her orgasm just kept on going.

Chapter Twenty Four

“You shall not come near that door, sir!”

A commotion outside the walk-in closet brought Petran back from the delirium of the incredible release he’d just had. He swore he had come twice in a row so long his peak had lasted. And Talia’s release had seemed to keep up with his because she would not stop shuddering in his arms. Beautiful.

He brushed his hand down her back and pulled out, careful not to hurt her on the way out. Had he been too rough? He was about to ask if she were all right, when she snaked up and down, rubbing her ass against his shaft like a pussy cat. Oh, he hadn’t been too rough, and she wanted more. That realization brought a proud smile to his lips.

“I heard noises, madam, and it is my duty to investigate any disturbances in this castle,” a man bellowed on the other side of the door.

What in Hiad was happening out there?

Talia seemed to have heard it as well because he felt her stiffen against his chest.

“You cannot walk in there, sir, this is the property of Lord Somenski,” Martha replied.

“This is a room inside the Castle of Kings, madam, it cannot be the property of Lord Somenski’s.”

By Apa Dobrý, they had been discovered.

Without wasting time, Petran picked up his trousers and handed Talia her dress but there was no time to get dressed or even think of an escape.

Bright lights from corridor penetrated the room as the door flung open.

“Why is it foggy in here?” the Kalaur’s seneschal grumbled, narrowing his eyes at the darkness in the closet.

An astounded Martha clasped her mouth in surprise and confusion while the guard searched in the shadows, looking straight into Petran’s green cloud.

Petran had had only milliseconds to
cloud up
, using his green cloud as an invisibility cloak for both him and Natalia, who was clutching his back like there was no tomorrow. He could hear her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

But if he could hear it, maybe so could the seneschal.

The well-trained guard took a step into the small chamber, and Talia inhaled stiffly. The bloody room was too small. Petran could not move any further back without bumping into something, or worse, crushing poor Natalia behind him. If the guard waved his hand forward, he’d most definitely find them out, and uncover his secret, all at once. The magic protecting the castle didn’t allow Petran to dematerialize completely so in theory, they were still material, just not as solid as a normal body was.

The seneschal lifted his hand, reaching out.

Petran held his breath and prepared for the worst.

“Seneschal,” a new male voice echoed in the corridor. “Lord Kalaur requires your presence at once.”

The seneschal paused, his hand still up in the air, mere inches from Petran’s face.

“What is it?” he asked the newcomer.

“He did not share his plans with me, sir. He just told me to gather everyone in the Grand Hall.”

The seneschal let out an irritated sigh, but complied.

“You too, madam,” the guard ordered Martha. “Call your mistress and join the other guests downstairs.”

“Lady Natalia is unwell, she’s resting and has asked not to be disturbed,” Martha replied, repeating the answer they had rehearsed earlier if the need arose.

“Lord Kalaur does not care,” the guard retorted. “Everyone is to meet in the Grand Hall in a quarter of an hour, no later.”

After the perfect display of middle-management despotism, the two officials strolled away and out of sight.

Petran took a deep, relieved breath and urged their bodies to take full shape again.

“Mighty Soartas,” Martha yelped in surprise then clasped her hand on her mouth. Her wide eyes roamed up and down his body.

It was only then Petran realized he was butt-naked, only having his manhood protected by his trousers hanging in his clasped hand. Natalia wasn’t fairing any better. Well, at least she had him blocking the sight of her nakedness.

“Oh dear,” Talia exhaled, and then burst into a nervous giggle. “That was ridiculously close.”

“Yes, it certainly was,” Petran agreed, chuckling.

“You two are insane,” Martha bellowed angrily. “You are going to find yourselves in Kalaur’s guillotine yet.”

The more she chided them, the more Talia laughed taking Petran with her on the ride. Her lightness was infectious.

The old maiden servant stormed out, giving up on them all together.

He swirled around and helped Talia put on her dress. “You should rush and get yourself presentable again, my sweet.”

“What do you think is the cause for such a sudden summoning?” she asked, motioning for him to clasp her corset up.

“I do not know, but it troubles me.”

He stepped out of the confines of the walk-in closet, and checked if the corridor was empty. It was. There was no one around, so he pulled her out and into his arms, giving her one last kiss. “I’ll see you soon, my sweet.”

“I’ll see you soon,” she replied with a wide smile.

He couldn’t stop the corners of his own mouth curving up. Petran rarely smiled, and was far from being a warm man—he was a vampire after all—but that woman was truly contagious.

**********

Talia got dressed as fast as she could and strolled to the Great Hall before anyone noticed her absence. Just like every other common room in the Castle of Kings, the concept of the gallery design was to celebrate peace and equality amongst supernatural races. The pillars holding the tall ceiling had the words
Honesty
,
Transparency
, and
Integrity
carved into them in many different languages. Instead of stone, glass walls surged upward presenting the guests with a view of the manicured gardens beyond. The full moon hung low in the sky, indicating it wouldn’t be long before sunrise.

Talia paused by the door. Many dignitary guests were already there waiting for Kalaur. They chatted amongst themselves in hushed tones. The comradery experienced earlier in the evening was nowhere to be found. The draconians took the west corner of the large room. The vampires, the direct opposite end, and the fae people seemed happy to be in the middle, but the centaurs looked very out of place near the fountain. One by one, the leaders of the other races arrived and the vast hall suddenly felt as small as a peasant’s home would.

Never had Talia liked public gatherings but nothing this night could bother her. The thrill of her adventure with Petran, the adrenaline of their nearly-caught rush still pumped in her veins, making her stupidly chirpy. Oh, well, she was on the proverbial cloud nine and could care less about what people might think of her.

Someone waving from the back of the room caught her attention. It was Martha, and she was standing next to her father. He was sitting next to the fireplace and did not look good.

“Father, you look so pale,” she observed upon reaching him. She crouched down to check his temperature. At least he wasn’t colder than usual, just a bit under the norm for a dragon.

He just waved his hand in dismissal, his eyes barely opening to acknowledge her. No, this was not fever, it was alcohol.
Damned Lindworm
. Actually, since Kalaur had supposedly joined them in the late night drinking party, she was ready to blame him for her father’s undignified state.

“You should have gone to bed,” she added, standing up straight. As she did, her gaze landed on the tall square-jawed vampire who had just entered the room. Petran looked incredibly handsome in a black suit jacket with matching waistcoat and breeches. He didn’t wear the white socks as fashion dictated. His were dark, lending a taller and more imposing air to his figure. His green gaze met hers but none of the passion they shared not even an hour before was there. No, this wasn’t her Petran who made her squirm under his touch. This was the King of Vampires, the leader of one of the most powerful races in their world.

The seneschal, the same draco who had almost caught them red handed earlier, banged a metal staff on the floor silencing the crowd. “Dragon Lord Kalaur, leader of the Principality of Ukraine,” he announced.

On cue, Kalaur sauntered into the room as if he were the king of them all, not just a controversial leader of a considerably minor territory. The curious guests opened up for him to pass. He stopped on the edge of the hall, chest puffed up like a pigeon’s, hand in one pocket, and one leg slightly more forward than the other.

“Oh, dear,” she mumbled, trying hard to refrain herself from rolling her eyes. Kalaur was trying to mirror Napoleon Bonaparte, one of the most famous draco leaders in Western Europe. Well, actually he had been the only famous draco so far.

“My esteemed guests, I gather you here tonight to make good on a promise I made to you not long ago,” Kalaur announced. “I vowed to free our lands of outlaws who threatened our children and burned our crops.”

Talia frowned and looked at Petran. His eyes were dark, too dark, glaring at the speaker. Ice suddenly settled in her stomach. Something was wrong, something was very wrong, and Petran knew what it was.

“And tonight, I come to you with the exhilarating news that justice has once again prevailed.”

A foul smell suddenly invaded the room making everyone gag in disgust.

“I give you the three rebels who have dared to interrupt our peaceful gathering and terrorize our Open Games!”

At his words, guards shoved her three friends into the room like rabies-infested dogs. Grotski and Dimitri were barely standing, but Ivan wasn’t so lucky. He was being dragged by The Sultan, Osman the Third, himself. The deamon had blood covered hands, and his turban was gone, giving way for a long wavy mane parting around two thick horns on his forehead. And his eyes…his hypnotic eyes glowed more devilishly than ever. Behind him, his two warriors followed suit, picked up Ivan, and skated him inside like a sack of potatoes. All three rebels had that awful centipede device attached to their backs keeping them from flying out, as if they could after being clearly beaten up to a pulp. But there was more to it.

Dimitri was openly sobbing.

His eyes met hers and she was at a loss for words when understanding dawned on her. His wings had been cut off. Between the sharp blades of his prison, his exposed flesh showed through. He was the source of the stench that had engulfed the room seconds before. It was the odor of a severed dragon.

Several ladies gasped in shock, and one even fainted at such a grotesque sight.

“What is the reason for this, Lord Kalaur?” Oberon uttered, his grave voice reverberating across the entire hall.

“The reason, Oberon, is to show you how I keep my promises, and that I, and only I, truly care for the safety of your loved ones,” Kalaur replied. “Because of my efforts and the kind support of our brothers from the Dry Lands…” He nodded to the Sultan. “You are safe once again.”

“They were your rebels to begin with,” the Centaur Leader said with a snort, which earned him the glare of death from the dragon lord.

Kalaur didn’t retort though, apparently preferring to ignore the comment instead. “We shall resume the festivities tomorrow eve with the certainty that no harm will come to us. The decapitation of these three insurgents will be the main attraction at the closing ceremony.”

As the crowd cheered in earnest, Talia’s mind reeled for hope. Mighty Soartas, there had to be a way of saving her friends from the guillotine, or at least what was left of them.

“In addition,” Kalaur hollered, silencing the guests once again. “In the wake of such blissful victory, I shall announce…”

Oh, no.

“My marriage to Lady Natalia Somenski, Duchess of Moldavia in a fortnight’s hence.”

NO!

Once again, the honorable guests cheered and clapped their approval.

Talia’s jaw dropped in horror as she tried hard to get some air into her lungs, and failed miserably. She held on to her father’s chair in a feeble attempt to bring back some strength to her wobbly legs.

No, this could not be happening!

Her father hadn’t spoken to her about his decision. He would never have agreed to this before informing her. She dropped to her knees in front of the only man who could set things straight and undo Kalaur’s preposterous announcement.

“Father,” she murmured by his side, her voice trembling with emotion. “Please tell them this is not true,” she begged. “Tell them you have not made up your mind yet.” But her father was far gone, slumped in the chair with only his snores stating his opinion on the matter.

Oh, Merciful Soartas!

Her pained gaze inadvertently searched for Petran’s, but she found no solace. He was staring at her all right but his impartial expression was as comforting as a statue’s. The room started spinning.

“I would congratulate you, Lord Kalaur,” Petran’s baritone voice reverberated in the room. “I am just mindful that, as per tradition, alliances such as yours call for both parties to publicly acknowledge their consent. And as we can clearly witness, Lord Somenski seems to be a bit short on his faculties to do so.”