Chapter Four
Beck watched Meg in the stands. It would be difficult, but he had to keep a firm grip on his emotions during this fight. Everyone thought Cian was the only one feeling the lack of a bondmate, but Beck had felt his hold on his temper slowly dissolving over the last few years. He felt his rage build after a fight rather than dissipate. He had become brutal when he didn’t need to be.
Just weeks ago, he had been hired to clean out a group of bandits plaguing the road to the marketplace. When he’d been surrounded by them, he’d gone a little crazy. He killed all thirty, and only just held off killing the females who had been travelling with them. His rages were getting worse. He wouldn’t be able to cover them for much longer. If they were forced to try to put him down, many people he cared about would die.
Cian might fade from existence like a candle being slowly snuffed out, but Beck feared he would go out in a blaze of blood and death. Dante was under strict instructions to use vampire technology to kill him if necessary, but he doubted his cousin would be able to do it.
Meg was the answer to all his problems. He bowed formally to the woman he intended to wed. At least she wasn’t trying to run, yet. He would have to deal with that eventually. He’d felt a small piece of her soul when he’d made her come before. He knew she was a stubborn girl. She was also a lonely girl. He didn’t need to see into her soul for that. She was lonely and scared. Beck wondered what she had left behind on the Earth plane. Had she left behind a husband, or worse, children? She was of an age to be a mother. His conscience hurt at the thought of leaving a baby without a mother, but there was nothing he could do about it. She would learn that there was no way back to her plane. Only a Planeswalker could take her, and she wouldn’t like the cost of the trip.
Beck felt the sand beneath his feet. He’d trained in an arena like this one back when he’d had loyalists who thought they could get him on the throne. He knew well how to fight here. The vampires were struggling, though. It wouldn’t take them long to adjust. Beck didn’t underestimate the vampires. They might seem soft because their true passion was business, but they were fierce predators. When the fight began, they would be in touch with their primal natures.
“Your Highness,” a young Fae said, not quite meeting his eyes as he walked past.
He was the first of ten men who walked past him. Beck could feel their disappointment. They had paid their money and laid their hopes on the line, too. Beck tried not to feel guilty. He had to do whatever it took to save his brother.
“Bastard,” one of the vampires spit as he walked up to Beck. His fangs were out, a sure sign of his rage. “Don’t even try to pull that shit on me, Finn. You aren’t a late entrant. Those fucking gnomes kept you out of sight until it was too late. None of us would even have tried, knowing you were going to be here.”
Beck was very still, though his eyes watched every move the vampire made. He looked vaguely familiar, but then, vamps often looked the same to Beck. “I paid my money like the rest of you. I wasn’t responsible for the list of competitors.”
The vampire sneered, and now he had others backing him up. The sidhe had all left, but the vampires were standing against him. “Right. You don’t have any sway with the gnomes.” His voice was filled with sarcasm. “They still see you as their king. Are you taking a cut?”
Beck’s eyes narrowed. A few of the smarter vampires took a step back. “I just want the girl. I’m not getting anything out of this except the girl.”
He tamped down his rage with ruthless precision. He thought about Meg sitting in the stands watching. He’d have given years off his life for her not to watch him. He didn’t want her scared of him.
“We’ll see about that.” The vampire’s fangs were already long in his mouth as the referee entered. The vamps retreated. They talked amongst themselves as the gnome needlessly explained the rules.
Everyone knew them. No technology was allowed. Ancient weapons were the only ones allowed. The vampires were able to use their fangs and claws. If Cian had been here, Beck would have been allowed to use their psychic connection. Other than that, there were very few rules. Mercy must be given if asked for. If a combatant requested quarter, the warrior fighting him must give it. The fallen fighter would leave, and the battle would resume. If no quarter was asked, then death was an acceptable outcome.
Beck felt the weapon in his hand. It was his sword, once his father’s. He had managed to save it as he fled Tir na nÒg. He had heard that his uncle mourned its loss. It was the traditional weapon of the Seelie King. No amount of money or power could replace what it meant to their culture. Some said that as long as Beckett Finn still carried the sword, there was hope. Beck wasn’t sure about that. A large part of him simply wanted to live out his life in some form of comfort. The idea of being king was a vague dream. Now he only wanted to save his brother and find a stable life. Winning Meggie was the first step.
There was a roar in the crowd as the referee held up a small black flag. A battle horn sounded, and the tournament began.
There wasn’t a burst of fighting. Beck knew that the vampires had used their time well. The vampires stalked him, attempting to distract him while some worked their way around to his back. Beck sighed. They intended to surround him. They would work together to take him out, and then they would fight each other.
They didn’t understand a thing. He very much preferred it this way. Chaos was his enemy. If he knew they were all coming after him, he knew exactly who to kill—every blasted one of them. Adrenaline began to course through his body like an old familiar drug in his system. Beck held his sword calmly at his side, patiently waiting for them to get into position.
“Fucking idiots! He loves the pack rotation” Beck heard his cousin shouting. It shouldn’t have surprised him that even in a crowd of peasants watching a fight, Dante stood out as obnoxious.
It was a technical term for this type of fight. The vampires were circling him like a pack of wolves. Beck was particularly talented when it came to defending against a pack rotation, but Dante didn’t need to point that out.
Beck shot the vampire a look. Dante was standing at the edge of the railing. Meg was standing right beside him, her face sheet-white as she watched the men surrounding him. She felt the connection, he realized. Beck had expected the connection. He had opened himself to it, but if Meg had felt it, too, it must be strong. Something warm filled Beck at the thought of it. It was the only explanation for why she was standing there, looking like her world was about to fall apart. She knew they belonged together. She might not be willing to admit it, even to herself, but the bond was already being formed.
And then Beck sensed something coming at him, fast. He had a bare second before the vampire was on him. Beck leaned down, trying to time it perfectly and get just the right angle. The vampire hit his back. Beck shoved up with everything he had. It sent the vamp flying through the air, knocking down a rival on the other side of the circle. Beck was immediately back on his feet, anticipating the attack from the other side.
Vampires were fast. They talked fast, and moved even faster when they needed to. When fighting a vampire, Beck knew it was more important to rely on his fighting instincts than his eyes. Sometimes a vamp could move faster than the eye could track. It came down to anticipating the next move. Vampires were immensely logical creatures. They trained and tended to do everything by the book. It was why Dante had trouble fitting in. Dante thought more creatively. In this case, the vampires’ slavish devotion to the method came in handy.
In his mind, Beck numbered them One through Fifteen. Eight had tumbled straight into Two across the ring the vampires had formed. Both were struggling to get to their feet. It gave Beck a chance to concentrate on the next assault. It would come from Twelve and Five.
Beck thrust out with his sword, catching Twelve in the belly as he kicked out in perfect precision, shoving Five back. He twisted his body slightly to take out Ten and Three in the same fashion.
Instinct took over as his sword bloodied. He no longer thought about Meg or Dante or even Cian. He and the sword moved in perfect precision. The blade became a simple extension of his being. Beck relaxed, letting his hearing confirm the order in which his brain told him they would attack. He danced as they attacked, his sword finding purchase in their strong bodies. Every time he sank the steel into another body, his hunger grew. He wanted to kill. The horn blared, calling an end to this round of fighting. It was an intrusive sound.
Beck breathed deeply, fighting the instinct to attack the little gnomes as they ran onto the field to pull off the injured competitors who called for quarter. He wanted to skewer the little ones. They would look good on his blade, the dark voice in his head whispered. It was their fault. They had walked onto his killing field. They should expect death. They were dragging off his prey before he even had a chance to finish them. It was his right. He turned to raise his sword and stop the interlopers when Meg’s face stopped him. She looked over the railing at the bottom of the arena. She must have convinced Dante and Rhys to allow her to move closer. Her face was worried. She was worried for him. She shouldn’t be worried for him. She should be scared of him.
Beck was shaking with rage as he stopped himself. Meg would never come to him if she saw what an animal he could be. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He swallowed as the horn blared, and the battle began anew.
The remaining vampires didn’t wait this time. All eight rushed him immediately. Beck was knocked back by the unexpected charge. Though his back hit the sand, a fierce joy took over. He did love a good fight. Up until now, the battle had been rote. Now, he was thrown a bit off balance.
A big vamp, with fangs and claws out, leapt on top of him. Beck grimaced as he felt the sharp claws sink into his left shoulder. He felt the blood start to flow and knew it would make the vamps a little crazy. He’d feared chaos, and now he was going to get it. Shoving his foot upwards, Beck launched the vamp up and over as he brought his sword up just in time to skewer the next vampire who jumped on him.
Gravity pulled the vamp down, and Beck noticed his aim had been perfect. As the vampire sunk onto the sword, the iron of the ancient weapon tore through his heart, one of two sure ways to kill a vampire. The race was tough as nails but vulnerable when it came to their hearts. Even a minor injury to the heart usually killed a vampire. The only other sure way was decapitation. Beck rolled away as fast as he could, knowing what would come next. Vampires didn’t die quietly. They sort of exploded.
The rest of the vamps took a quick step back as their fallen compatriot came apart. Beck narrowly managed to avoid being covered in gore, but his senses filled with the smell and scent of blood. It did nothing to calm his inner beast. Everything inside Beck gloried in the death of his opponent. The female was his. They were attempting to take what was rightfully his.
Beck moved out of the way of the next assault. Two vampires threw themselves down, one catching Beck while he was still blinded by the bits of dead vamp covering his eyes. Beck roared as he felt the vampire sink his fangs into the vulnerable flesh between his neck and shoulder. Luckily, he had squirmed enough so the bastard hadn’t gotten his jugular.
He heard, no, felt, Meggie’s scream. It spurred him to action. He took a single, strong punch to his face from a second attacking vamp. He saw several more stepping forward to take a shot, too. The vamp on his neck was trying to get a better angle. Beck reached up and pulled him off his back, tossing him into the vampires attacking his front. The place where the vamp’s fangs had sunken in ached, and Beck knew the vamp had gotten away with a hunk of his flesh.
It didn’t matter. He healed quickly.
He moved even faster. He skewered the vamp who had taken a chunk out of him, and his aim was perfect. The vamp exploded, even as he pulled his sword out and moved on to the next.
The blood and gore was having an effect on the vamps as well. Two of the vampires had turned on each other. Out of the corner of Beck’s eye, he watched as they screamed, fangs and claws out. The pair attacked each other viciously. They sunk their claws into each other’s bellies, and the high-pitched sound of their pain hurt Beck’s ears. The two quickly dropped to the ground. They rolled in the sand, each desperate to gut the other. Vampires, for all their claims to civilization, were just as feral as the rest.
There were only six left, and two were doing their damndest to kill each other. A fierce joy raced through him as he brought the hilt of his sword down on a vamp he had tripped as he attempted to run away. Silly creature. There was nowhere to run. He raised his sword to bring it down on the vamp’s throat. He was swinging it in an arc toward the unconscious rival’s body when he was tackled from the side. Beck roared as he toppled over.
“Quarter!” the vampire yelled as he scrambled to get his knife properly in his hand. “He is out, Beck. You can’t kill a man who’s already gone down.”
It was the same vampire who had drawn Dante’s ire. He was covered in sweat and blood. His hood had fallen back, and his pale skin was already burning. “Give it a rest, Beck. It’s over. The female is yours. We give.”
Beck didn’t really hear him. He simply knew he was on his back in a submissive position, and that would never do. With a single hand, he tossed the vampire away like he was a child’s toy. Somewhere in the back of his rage-addled head, he recognized that the gnomes had taken to the floor. They were trying to help out the injured combatants. It no longer mattered. His rage required blood.
“He’s gone insane!” Palgrave shouted, trying to get the referee’s attention. “You have to put him down.” The vampire backed up as Beck growled low in his throat and began to stalk him. He tossed down his knife and showed Beck his empty hands. He had retracted his claws, but the fangs remained. “I concede, Beck. We all concede.”
A horn blared. It seemed a distant, meaningless thing. There were still twitching bodies, so Beck knew his work couldn’t possibly be finished. His senses opened. Everywhere he smelled glorious death. The vamp was backed against the arena wall. He tried to shrink back as though he could force the stone walls to pull him in.
“I am asking for mercy, Your Highness.” There was a hitch in the vampire’s voice. He pulled away as though trying to disappear into himself.
Beck could smell the fear on him. It was good. He raised his sword as the crowd began to scream, but it was a single voice that stayed his hand.
“He asked for mercy, Beck,” a soft feminine voice said. “There is no reason to kill him.”
Beck turned on his heels. He sensed the vamp take the opportunity to run. He was too shocked by Meg’s presence to do anything about it. Dante stood at her side. Beck chose to turn his rage on his cousin. “Get her out of here. How dare you allow her on the battlefield!”
Dante had the good sense to back up, but Meg held her ground. “The battle is done, cos. It’s time for you to come down now.”
“Not until I’m finished,” Beck promised. His voice was rough with anger. His jealousy was taking over. What had his cousin been doing all this time he was sitting beside his woman? Had Dante been courting her? “You should never have walked out here. Are you challenging me?”
Dante’s eyes got wide, but Meg moved between them. “Beck, Dante is not challenging you. No one is challenging you anymore. They’re all running away. You scared the crap out of them.”
Beck bared his teeth as he realized she was correct. They were running. He took a step and made to follow when her soft hand found the middle of his chest. She didn’t seem to notice he was covered in blood.
“Meg, he’s too far gone,” Dante said. “You’ll have to…”
“I heard you in the stands, Dante.” Meg placed her other hand on his chest and stood very close. He could smell her. She smelled sweet, nothing like death. Meg smelled of flowers and some womanly scent he couldn’t name. She smelled of life. “Beck, I’m yours. Are you going to leave me alone to chase after the others? Shouldn’t you take care of me?”
“Not going to work, sweetheart.” Dante continued to back up. “Meg, if you can’t handle it, then I need for you to run. Run to the stands. I’ll distract him.”
“Shut up,” Beck yelled at the vampire. His jealousy was a roiling pain in his gut. “You don’t talk to my mate.”
Meg huffed at the vampire. “Fine, but you better be right. If I find out this was a stupid joke, I’ll stake you myself.” Beck was trying to move her out of the way. She threw her arms around him and went on her tiptoes to press her mouth against his. “Please, Your Highness, I am yours. You have to take care of me.”
Beck’s sword fell to the side as another type of need blazed through his body.
* * * *
Meg took a deep breath and prayed that damn vampire was right. She pressed her body against Beck’s. Finally, she had his full attention. Her hands were shaking as she thought about what she was about to do.
Dante had been very concerned when the first vampire was killed. He’d explained to her that Beck’s control of his temper was a delicate thing. He was the warrior half of unbonded symbiotic twins. He needed his brother to balance him, but without a bondmate, his rage had begun to run unchecked. Dante had explained that if Beck went berserk, he would have to be killed.
Meg didn’t want Beck killed. On the practical side, if Beck was killed, she wouldn’t simply be freed. She would go to the last competitor standing and in his right mind, and that would be a vampire. As much as she thought Dante was a hoot, the thought of being claimed by a vampire left her cold. They were too calculating for her tastes.
The only way to save Beck was to turn his rage into something else. Dante explained that he might calm down eventually, but not until he’d killed the vampires and possibly the gnomes who would try to stop him. If they had a shot at salvaging the day, Meg was going have to take one for the team.
It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t be doing it anyway, Dante had explained as he’d leapt over the railing. He’d turned and helped her down before explaining that Beck would be required to prove he could sexually handle a mate.
If there had been even a second of time, Meg would have taken extreme issue with that, but Beck had been bearing down on a vampire who looked like he was about to pee his pants. She had run the distance between them, her bare feet sinking in the sand. She should have been terrified. He was a brutal fighter, and yet she knew he would never hurt her. Why she trusted this man she had no idea, but she did.
She pressed herself up. He towered over her. His gray eyes had been filled with rage. Now they gleamed down on her, a mixture of the rage he was fighting and something else entirely.
“You shouldn’t have come out here.” He growled as he took her face between his hands. He shifted them slightly until they tangled in her long hair. He looked righteously masculine, and Meg felt her heart speed up.
It took her a moment to form the words. “I had to come.”
He was so close. His neck and shoulder were injured, the wounds seeping blood. She should be disgusted by him, but she knew she was seeing a piece of him that was important. He was a warrior, and not the kind who dropped a bomb from above or pushed a button from miles away. He fought in close quarters. His life was always on the line. He was a knight, and she suddenly felt like his lady. He had been intent on destruction, but she had stayed his hand. It was a heady feeling.
His mouth latched on to hers. The world fell away. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that others watched them. She could even hear the announcer call the battle in favor of Beck. The crowd cheered, and then she heard something about a public display of sexual compatibility, but his tongue was sweeping inside her mouth. He held her head where he wanted it, and she was deliciously powerless against his assault. Meg felt her skin tingle everywhere it met his. He hauled her tightly against his frame. She could feel his desire. His erection pressed long and thick against her belly. His body moved against hers, and Meg found herself rubbing helplessly against him.
Meg opened her mind to the experience. It seemed like the right thing to do. Even as his body prodded hers, she felt his mind playing at the edges of her consciousness. It was almost as if there were gates to her mind, and like the marauder he was, Beck wanted in. Meg let them fall away and was suddenly overwhelmed.
She felt Beck’s insanity seeking a place to go. Rage poured into her brain. For a second, she was suffused with it, but instinct took over. It was odd. She could push it out of her own mind. It was almost as though she was a filter for him. The rage swept over her. It was so powerful that she was shocked Beck hadn’t killed everyone. He kissed her as his rage moved from his mind into hers, and then like a faucet that had been turned from cold to hot, it was replaced with desire. It raced through her body like a wildfire, and this time, she didn’t try to filter it. She wanted this feeling. It was completely different than anything she had experienced before. This wasn’t the sweet, slow arousal she normally experienced that typically led to nowhere. This was a blazing aggression that she knew would end with a dominant, overwhelming pleasure. This need would not be denied.
Meg sighed and gave over to Beck when she realized that what she was feeling was his arousal. He wanted her, needed her. It was a desperate thing. He was starving for her, and everything female in her needed to feed him.
Meg tightened her arms around him, reveling in the hard feel of his muscles. His hand slipped inside the gossamer bodice of her robe and closed over her breast. His thumb brushed the nipple. She cried out against his mouth. He was hot to the touch.
“You feel so good.” Beck’s voice was a low growl, and there was an almost drugged quality to it.
Meg’s hands went to the front of her robe. She felt how much it would please him to see her. He wanted to look at her breasts and see her pussy. He wanted to lay her bare and fuck her until she couldn’t remember a time he wasn’t inside her. She couldn’t hear his words, but she filled in the intent. Meg started to pull off her robe, but his hand came out and stopped her. His face was filled with a savage possessiveness. Meg felt the fine edge of madness was still present, still trying to take over.
“No,” he bit out, the word grinding between his teeth. “That is mine. It is not for their eyes. On your knees, bondmate. They need a show before I can claim you, but they will not see you.”
He pushed her down by her shoulders. Her knees hit the sand, sinking in slightly. Meg felt like the entire episode was a hazy, utterly erotic dream. She knew exactly what he wanted. She could see a picture of it in her mind and knew that Beck was putting it there. She could have told him that she wasn’t very good at that. Her ex-husband had told her that she wasn’t good at anything when it came to pleasing a man, but Meg suspected it might be different with Beck. If she listened very carefully, he could show her what he wanted.
With shaky hands, Beck untied the fastenings on his pants and roughly pushed them down to his knees. His cock sprang forward, erect and enormous. It was thick and long, red at the base but gradually giving way to a gorgeous plum color at the head. It pulsed in his hand as he stroked himself. Meg could see a bead of milky white moisture glistening on the tip. She wanted to taste that cum.
He moved forward and pressed the head of his dick against her lips. “Take me.”
Tentatively, Meg reached out and brushed the tip of her tongue across him, gathering the pre-cum on the head. He tasted salty and masculine. As she watched, another drop wept out of the slit, and she swiped her tongue across it again. His cock jumped, and pleasure curled in her womb. She was already getting soft and moist just thinking about taking him in her mouth.
His hands curled in her hair. She felt the full force of his will like a drug in her veins. His voice was dark with need as he pulled her head forward. He left no room to argue or for her to think about what she was doing. She only knew that she wanted him. She wanted this.
“Open.”
She obediently opened her lips, groaning at the feel of his cock pressing into her mouth. He was big, far bigger than her ex-husband. She only had the head of his dick inside her lips, but she was already struggling. He filled her mouth. She whirled her tongue around the head of his cock, though the fit was tight. She explored the velvety smooth skin. Such soft, silky flesh covered his raging hardness. A wave of warmth infused her, and she knew what Beck was feeling. His head was thrown back as he fed her his dick.
“More.” He seemed capable of only one-syllable phrases now.
She looked up and saw his eyes were dark and filled with unmistakable satisfaction as he watched his flesh disappear into her mouth. His hands tugged at her hair, urging her on. He pressed forward. Meg found herself struggling to breathe. He was so big, she wasn’t sure she could take more, but she had to. It felt so good. Beck’s pleasure coated her in need. She whirled her tongue around his thickness as much as she could. It was almost more than she could take. She could feel what he was feeling. She felt the softness of her tongue and the heat of her mouth. She felt how much he wanted her hands on him, so she lifted one hand to gently caress his balls.
“Yes.” Beck groaned as he thrust his hips forward, forcing in another inch.
Meg relaxed and tried to ignore her gag reflex. She swallowed around his cock. It seemed to break something in the big Fae warrior. He growled, and Meg was almost overcome with his need to dominate her. She gave herself up to the experience.
She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she should be gagging. She should be fighting him off, but the sensation of sharing the experience with him was far more powerful than any physical reaction. His fierce bliss as he fucked her mouth was beyond anything she had every felt. He was ruthless. He shoved himself in her mouth, all caution gone. Her pussy was soaking wet, and she was sure if she touched her clit she would go off like a rocket. She was giving him such pleasure, and it aroused her. She could see herself through his eyes. She was sexy and hot. She was a goddess, and he was going to tame her. She knew what was going through his mind. He was going to fuck her until she promised never to leave him.
Beck fucked his way to the back of her throat. He shoved his cock in, even as he pulled her head forward. The twin sensations called to her submissive nature. He was so deep, she could feel his balls hit her chin with each thrust. He was close. She felt as though she was in his body. An almost painful anticipation was coursing through him. His balls squeezed. Meg felt warning prickle tickled at the base of her spine. It was coming from him. He was close, she just felt it. He was so close. Instinctively she swallowed around him when he hit the back of her throat. Beck threw his head back and roared as he came.
Meg was suddenly full. Her mouth was filled with his essence, and she was suffused with his orgasm. It rolled across her like a powerful wave, bashing against her senses. Her womb clenched and throbbed. Only Beck’s strong hands kept her from falling over. The entire experience had been exquisite and completely draining.
“Lick me clean,” he ordered, keeping his hands tangled in her hair.
She obediently licked his softening cock, running her tongue along his skin. She tried not to miss a drop. It felt so good. The orgasm itself had been massive. It was like a high-powered locomotive barreling into her. This pleasure was softer, sweeter. It felt like tenderness and caring.
And then it was gone. The connection was cut abruptly, and Meg felt cold at its loss.
“What am I doing?” Beck asked in a rough voice. He let go of her. She fell to the sand, completely exhausted.
She watched through languid eyes as he tucked himself back in and refastened his trousers. She felt so peaceful and sweetly lethargic. Now he would tell her how pleased he was with her. He would kiss her and hold her. He would see to her pleasure. It would feel so good to make love with him.
He didn’t look pleased as he reached down and hauled her up into his arms.
“Cover yourself,” he ordered harshly.
She noted her robe had come open. Her breasts were bare, the nipples puckered and wanting.
Meg began to come out of her pleasure-induced haze. Just minutes before, she wouldn’t have cared if she had been completely naked to the world. She had only cared about pleasing Beck, but now a flush of shame suffused her. What had seemed so loving before now seemed perverse without his kindness. She was confused. He’d seemed pleased with her, but his demeanor now told a different tale.
She pulled the sides of her robe together so she didn’t offend him with her nudity. As he carried her out of the arena, she kept her hands at her sides, sensing that he wouldn’t welcome her touch.