This. This was what was missing all her life. This feeling of being vibrantly alive. Of finding she loved the strength within herself that she’d kept hidden so long, too afraid to let her vampiric qualities rise to the surface. Mikhail awakened her most primal instincts in such beautiful, delicious ways. While the idea of being a less-than-genteel creature had once frightened her, Mikhail adored every part of her, including the animal within that had awoken on the night he gave her a blood kiss in the tower. The night the fates first joined them, divining this fierce, electric kind of love.
And now, as he drove deep and hard inside her body, just as she’d asked him to, she could only repeat a mantra of “yes” against his lips, their gazes locked. Like their bodies, they were held fast and hard to each other, reaching for that moment of ecstasy together, and something else. Something more.
When she opened her mouth in a soundless scream, her orgasm crashing through her like a violent tidal wave, he melded his mouth to hers, groaning as he spilled inside of her. She dug her nails into his back, relishing the heaviness of him buried deep as he found his release, growling his satisfaction.
Even as he kissed her down from the pinnacle of orgasm, the burning need remained. An unquenchable fire.
She broke the kiss, panting. “Will it ever go away?”
His mouth quirked up on one side. Not exactly a smile. More an expression of acceptance. “No. I don’t think it will.” He brushed away a strand of her hair sticking to the dampness of her neck. “Not for me.”
She cupped his sharp, angular jaw gently, sweeping her thumb to the corner of his mouth. “What will happen to us? After the war, will we—I mean, you are the great-grandson of Rodin Varis. You are a prince yourself, the highest rank I could marry.”
She couldn’t keep the hope from her eyes, wishing he’d make that sacrifice for her. She couldn’t bear the thought of ruling alone, for she’d never take another man but him at her side.
Angling his head just enough, he pressed a kiss to the pad of her thumb. “Hush now, Mina mine. Let’s not worry about tomorrow.” He hovered close, sweeping his lips across hers, gliding his tongue across the seam as he rolled his spine, stroking inside her. “You just relax and let me keep my promise.”
She laughed, her breath catching on a gasp when he pounded once, deep and hard. “Yes, Captain.”
He pressed a desperate kiss to her lips, sweeping his tongue in swiftly before lifting away. His expression transformed to one of storm and midnight, a dark gravity hovering over him as he expressed himself with his unearthly eyes and magnificent body. She couldn’t hear the words, but she felt the emotion with her empathic senses and with her own heart. The most deep and reverent emotion of all pouring from the man thrusting deep inside her.
She closed her eyes and whispered her mantra of “yes,” accepting his wordless vow that there would be a future beyond the veil of blood and death that loomed ahead.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Standing at the top of the stone steps leading into the Grand Forum—a circular building made of white stone, the floors of white marble—Mina exhaled a deep breath.
“As we said, I’ll go in first and call the House to order,” Lord Rathbone said, leaning close to her ear. “Then I’ll relate there has been a new proposition put to the House, one not in their current registers. That’s when you will enter.”
“Right.” She nodded.
“Smile, Your Highness.” He stood tall, smoothing his waistcoat. “All will be well.” Then he winked and walked with long, commanding strides into the hall where the overlapping voices of the many lords fell to a hush at his entry.
“Don’t be nervous,” said Friedrich on her right.
“I’m not nervous.”
And that was the truth, strangely enough. She’d always been nervous upon her annual visits to the Grand Forum. But now she understood why. Steward Thorwald paraded her in as an ornament, for her to show her face and never open her mouth. She’d always felt out of place because she’d had no place there. But not today. Today, she would be seen and heard.
“We’ll be right behind you. To be sure they understand you’re not alone.”
Mina turned to Friedrich and gave him a warm smile. “I’ve been alone all my life, Your Grace. It was what I was taught at an early age by Thorwald. A princess is a solitary entity who must live a solitary life. Not until I awoke from the bloodless sleep did I finally come to understand the truth.”
“What truth, Your Highness?”
“That a princess alone is a dying flower on the vine.” She shifted her gaze forward, hearing the staccato wrap of a gavel, bringing the House to order. “And a strong queen is never alone.”
“Quite right, Your Majesty.”
She smiled at his slip of a queenly title. “Not yet, Friedrich. Let’s get through this first.”
She marched forward, feeling the presence of her entourage at her back, sensing Mikhail closest on her left behind her.
“What new proposition?” She heard the blustering voice of Steward Thorwald as she crossed from the shadows of the arch into the light of the amphitheater. The oculus at the center of the dome let in sunlight, the rim of the dome ringed with large windows as well, bathing the white marble room in a vibrant air.
Rathbone arched a superior brow from the helm of the hall on the raised bench, gesturing toward her. “One that I believe Princess Vilhelmina Dragomir will present to us.”
A wave of gasps and murmurs echoed in the large chamber as she made her way across the hall with Friedrich and the Bloodguard at her back. Grant filed in as one of the Bloodguard. Mina took in the gaping, awestruck steward who had abused his position as her keeper all her life, then stepped up to the podium facing the amphitheater.
The tiers of lords all turned their eyes on her. They were separated by province. Their unique banners and scepters marked the first row of each province. She scanned them all, recognizing the leaders of the provinces, their eyes fixed on her. She nodded to Lord Grable of the Pierson Province, known as the greatest breeders of the fine Arkadian horses. She looked to the right, catching the eye of Lord Steele of the Creed Province, known for their superior craftsmanship in armor and weaponry.
Reaching out with her empathic gift, she sensed no menace—excepting the steward at her back on the bench with Rathbone and Lord Maksim—but felt pinpricks of surprise and curiosity. And perhaps a little fear as a few heads turned nervously to the entrance, many glancing at the black-clad Bloodguard standing in two lines facing opposite sides of the hall. Rumors had surely spread far and wide that she’d been a captive of King Dominik and that he was now on the warpath to recapture her.
“Greetings, my lords.” Her voice lifted to the domed ceiling easily in such an acoustic chamber. “I come today with a royal petition, but first I must digress to dispel any erroneous reports circulating throughout my kingdom.”
Thorwald huffed out a blustering protest at her mention of ownership of Arkadia. For she never had before. “This is preposterous. What can she possibly—”
“Close your mouth, Thorwald,” said Rathbone with such malevolence that Mina turned to find him staring daggers at the man. “Or I’ll shut it for you.”
Thorwald glanced away, his face mottled red.
Mina faced forward, inhaled a deep breath, chin up, back straight. “I must also confirm the truth of some of these reports.”