Shadow's Claim

“I should have been there to watch your back!” he insisted. “After a millennium awaiting you in Dacia, I should have known my Bride would be out in the world. Zeii mea, I felt something that day.”

“Do Dacians have a sense like that?”

“We’ve abilities unknown to most. But I believe that you called for your male, your protector. That night, you called for me.”

My male. Why did that sound so totally right to her? Had she somehow reached out to this vampire? If Daciano was in fact hers. . . .

Then she remembered their present circumstances. “Even if we do share some bond, it won’t matter!” The vampire’s in it to win it. But that was just it: he couldn’t win. No matter what, they could never be together. “Tomorrow, you’re probably going to . . . die.”

“How would that make you feel, Bettina?”

Another tear slid down her face.

He pulled her into his arms. “You would mourn me?”

“Yes!” she said in exasperation. “But just because I don’t want you to die doesn’t mean I’m not confused about everything. Tonight was a shock, and I don’t know how to react.”

“I see. You need a break from all this, a night to recharge.” I wish! “Here. I have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t like surprises.” She raised her chin. “Such as when heads tumble out in front of me.”

In a gruff tone, he admitted, “I thought I’d have time to prepare you for the sight. I didn’t want to frighten you.”

“I happen to frighten very easily.”

“Forgive me. For now, I’ve little else to give you.”

She softly said, “Because you abandoned your kingdom for me.”

“A worthwhile sacrifice. Now, can you trust me that this will be a pleasant surprise?”

“I don’t . . . oh, very well.”

“Close your eyes.” When she reluctantly did, he traced her . . .

To her favorite place in all of Abaddon—her folly in the great rain forest.

She was about to ask how he knew about it, but remembered that he probably knew everything about her now.

And he still wants me.

She sighed, gazing around. Located near the marsh’s edge, the structure consisted of a marble base with ten columns, each carved to look like a different type of basilisk.

Above, over a net of gold filament, a dome of vines grew in a tightly knit riot of green. More vines stretched between the columns to fashion walls. Oversize blossoms fanned out intermittently, bold circles of vivid yellow.

My folly. Compared to Rune, the rain forest was ablaze with color. How she’d missed this place!

The vampire had slain her enemies, had taken pains to protect her from Goürlav, and now had given her this.

Then she noticed that he’d already been here, bringing furs from his tent as well as wine and food for her.

“A picnic?” She raised her brows at him. “You expect me to believe you don’t plan to seduce me? You’ve gone and set up all those precautions to protect me from Goürlav, and yet you’re not confident enough to have sex with me?”

In a husky voice he said, “Do you desire me to do so this night?”

“No!” If circumstances were different . . . maybe? “You just keep telling me you don’t intend to have sex with me.”

“Not by choice—I fantasize about it without cease!” He leaned down to rasp at her ear, “How I’ll prepare your sweet little body to receive me, how I’ll ease you into lovemaking so you crave me as much as I do you.” As she shivered from his words, he pulled back with a sexy curl of his lips. “In any event, I said I wouldn’t seduce you fully. Though up to a point is still in play.”

Flustered, she reached for a mask that wasn’t there, then backed away from him to stroll the perimeter. She surveyed all the pie blossoms, named so because each bloom was as big as a pie, its scent as sweet. As she ran her fingertips along damp marble, registering the sensation, the vampire said nothing. But his gaze followed her every move.

A guy who likes you wants to watch you all the time. Daciano stared at her—as if there was nothing else to behold.

“If you do win this tournament, vampire, you’ll be king of this plane,” she said. “Don’t you care to see any of it? This is probably the prettiest place in Abaddon.” And there was a natural phenomenon that took place on nights like this. Before the rain comes the clear. Soon a break would open in the fog bank, revealing a breathtaking scene above.

He joined her. “I want you to show it to me.”

She waved a hand around. “Look on.”

“I see a swamp. The flora is visually appealing, the air muggy, the trees gigantic. But I now know there’s so much more. I want to see it as you do.”

She nibbled her bottom lip. “I see . . . function. Nothing is static. I see the growth patterns in a line of vine: bursts of it each rainy season. Those broad leaves toward the ground are much fuller to catch the snippets of sunlight that filter through.” He looked so interested, she found herself saying, “In a few minutes, if you go to the glade just there and look up, you’ll see a unique sight. It’s beautiful.”

“You will show it to me.”

Her? Walking into that clearing? In the center of all those towering moonraker trees? She nearly snorted. Not going to happen, vampire. Even with Daciano here, she couldn’t tolerate that risk.

But wasn’t this folly also flanked with those trees?

Where Vrekeners were wont to perch.

She looked at the closest tree, a massive wooden tower looming beside her. Next to it, she felt as tiny as an ant. As powerless as one.

Her breaths began to shallow as her gaze followed the trunk up and up—until it disappeared into the ghostly fog above. That oh-so-familiar seed of anxiety grew.

There could be a colony of Vrekeners up there, and she’d never see them.

But they could see her. . . .

Chapter 31

Trehan saw the exact moment panic quickened inside her. Her body shot still even as her heart began to race.

“Easy, love.” He was at her side in an instant, hands covering her shoulders.

Her eyes were wide and locked on a nearby tree, her breaths hitching.

“Look at me, Bett. Look at me!” He cupped her paling cheeks, making her face him. “Breathe. Inhale, exhale.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, gripping his shoulders, digging her nails into the muscle. “I’m supposed to take breathing advice . . . from someone who didn’t use his lungs . . . for centuries?”

“Nothing can ever touch you when you’re with me,” he said in a comforting tone, placing his palms over her back. She seemed so frail as she gasped for air, her shoulder blades so fragile beneath his callused palms. My delicate little Bride. His hands felt too large and rough against her, but when he