Chapter Twenty-Four
Mikhail stood inside his tent, the map of the north spread across the table. Friedrich and Grant leaned over it with him. The duke wore a grim expression of both determination and of fear in equal measure. No one needed to say that everyone’s thoughts weighed heavily on finding Izzy safely. But none more than Friedrich.
Mikhail had successfully avoided private conversation with Mina since the coronation. He was in charge of organizing the full force of the Bloodguard for the journey to Izeling, all five hundred of them, so he kept busy. Lord Rathbone stayed behind to assemble the Arkadian army, including its elite force of equestrians. Now that word would spread of Mina’s coronation, Queen Morgrid and King Dominik would be acting swiftly. Mikhail had to push his forces to move at once in order to assemble what was left of the Black Lily army for the march north. The great battle was near.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak to her alone. It was that he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know he’d feel this way after his goal had been achieved, after she’d faced off the House of Arkadia and demanded they’d crown her. And then they did. He didn’t know he could love her more.
Damn it to hell.
Yes. He loved her. God, save him. He loved her with every fiber of his being. She’d won, after all. He could no more allow her to take another man to her bed or to her side than he could cut out his own heart. They’d be one and the same, really. And so he was trying to find a way to tell her this without sounding like an utter fool. How did a man confess his love? It was done every day all over the world, and he couldn’t find the words. What if she didn’t return his love? Yes. Captain of the Bloodguard, slayer of rogues, leader of mercenaries, hardened, battle-ready warrior was afraid…of love.
“Something funny, Captain?” asked Grant.
“No.” He cleared his throat and pointed down at the map. “There’s only one way in or out of Dragon’s Eye. That’s where their forces will be. Though we don’t know whether he’ll be holding Izzy there or in Izeling Tower.”
“This plain here will be ideal for battle,” said Friedrich. “The mountains of Belaya Noch won’t allow for any covert movement.”
“Hmph,” grunted Grant. “The king’s intention was to hide his fort from the rest of the world. While doing so, he effectively cut himself off from escape.”
Friedrich stared down, arms crossed. “That’s because he never intended to be caught there.”
“Which is exactly why it’s the best place of attack,” added Mikhail. “A separate force can sweep the castle at the same time and discover if Izzy is being held there.”
“I’ll be with that troop,” said Friedrich, his expression grim.
“Of course.”
They’d all suspected that Izzy was taken for some special purpose none of them could quite predict, but it was more certain that she’d be kept close and not away at the fortress.
The tent flap popped open and Katya stepped in. He’d not seen her in nearly a year as she’d been working in the west of Pyros and reporting what she could about the queen’s movements within King Agnar’s regime. Much to Mikhail’s dislike, as the only female of the Bloodguard—especially wearing the close-fitting black leather garb and gear of a soldier, her dagger harness crossing her chest—she drew the eye. Especially Grant’s, it appeared.
“Captain.” She stopped in front of Mikhail with a tight nod. Pulling back her hood and shaking some of the snow piled on her cloak, her dark rope of a plait fell forward over her shoulder.
Grant crossed his arms and grinned. “Captain, if I’d known you were letting girls in the Bloodguard, I’d be asking to join.”
She tensed and swiveled her head in his direction. “And what makes you think we’d ask you to join—human?”
He put his palm over his heart. “Ouch.”
“Gentlemen,” Mikhail interrupted, trying to hide his grin. “This is Katya Romanov. My sister.”
Grant started, shrugging apologetically to Mikhail. Friedrich chuckled with his gaze to the ground.
“Katya, this is His Grace, Friedrich Volya and his brother, Grant.”
She gave them both a stiff nod of greeting.
“Lady Katya,” said Friedrich, giving her the title she deserved as a nobleman’s daughter.
“Just Katya, please.”
Grant winked. “Charmed.”
Katya narrowed her gaze then pivoted to Mikhail. “Barracks tents are complete. As well as for the horses. This blizzard was unexpected.”
“Indeed.” Mikhail was pleased Katya had returned from Pyros with over a hundred horses as promised. They’d need a strong cavalry to lead the advance. With the troops Lord Rathbone was assembling, they’d have a mighty force. “We’ll give the horses a night’s rest, then push on.”
“Yes, Captain. Any other orders?”
“I want to be sure we have a secure perimeter. Check with Dmitri about patrol duty.”
She rolled her eyes. “Mikhail,” she complained, then remembered herself. “I mean, Captain. He’ll give me the worst shift in the most difficult position.”
“He wants to challenge you.”
“You mean kill me.”
“Mother would kill him if he did.”
She huffed out a sigh. “If only I were so lucky.” Then she turned for the door and exited with a snap of the tent opening, a gust of frigid air sweeping in.
Friedrich turned to Grant. “You may have been charmed by her, but I don’t believe the feeling is mutual, brother.”
“Oh, give her time. Wait till she sees me in action with a blade.”
Mikhail chuckled. “Wait till you see her in action with a blade.”
“She’s good?” he asked.
“Let me put it this way. Gavril is by far the finest assassin with a blade in my entire Guard. Except for her.” Gavril’s skill with the blade had become legendary around the Black Lily camp. “She always bests him. She’d best you as well.”
“Heaven help me.” He clutched at his heart. “I think I’m in love.”
Friedrich and Mikhail laughed, when the tent flap opened again and Dmitri stepped in, shaking the snow off and stepping up to the low-burning fire on stones in the corner. Each of these wartime tents was made with a small, round ventilation flap that opened outward in the corner. The fires set in a dugout hearth and kept burning low to keep the temperature comfortable and even.
“Colder than a witch’s tit out there.” He rubbed his hands together over the fire. “I’ll freeze my stones off if I don’t take a break.”
Vampires could regulate their own body heat but extreme cold and drastic changes in temperature shocked their systems just as they would a human’s.
“Did you see Katya?”
Dmitri looked over his shoulder, grinning. “Aye.”
“Don’t start a row with her. I need everyone level-headed.”
“Who’s starting anything? I just gave her a patrol assignment. Like she asked.”
“Where?”
He waved a hand. “Over on the north peak.”
“Where the wind is blowing hardest.”
He turned, warming his back with a boyish shrug. “She wants to be treated like one of the men. Well, that’s what I’m doing.”
Mikhail sighed, pulling on his leather gloves. Sibling rivalry wasn’t what he needed on his mind right now. “I’ll make the rounds for a while. Did someone take your place on duty?”
“Yeah.” He blew into his cupped hands, heating them. “Gavril took my place at the eastern point of camp.”
Mikhail nodded to Friedrich and Grant. “Get some sleep if you can. We’ll ride hard tomorrow, no matter if this blizzard is still blowing or not.”
He flipped up his hood and headed out. Strangely, there was little snow falling now but a glacial gusting wind whipped the fresh layer into curling torrents. He pulled the kerchief tied around his neck up to his eyes to shield from the sting. There’d been no snow on the ground when they’d left the Grand Forum; the storm sweeping in supernaturally fast.
He froze and looked around, fear sliding down his spine like a trickle of ice. The tents were set in orderly rows. He listened above the screaming wind. Rumblings of men. Laughter. Shuffling of the horses in close quarters. Blades sharpening on whetstones. Nothing out of tune.
He marched directly toward Mina’s tent, stationed at the center of the encampment and surrounded by guards. He shot past the two out front and entered her tent, only to be stunned still by the sight within.
Mina sat on a carpet tossed on the ground by the stone hearth. She had uncoiled her crowning braids and brushed them out. Her hair fell in golden waves, shining by firelight like the rays of the sun.
She turned at the sound of him entering, a frown etched on her brow. “Mikhail.”
Warmth spread through his stiff limbs as she stood and came to him. For their journey, she’d changed from her formal gown and garments back into the dress Sienna had given her. She’d forgone the bodice, apparently readying for bed now in her bare feet. Sienna’s styling suited her well. He found her even more alluring than in her queenly garb.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.
She pressed her head into the crook of his shoulder, her body quivering.
“You’re cold.”
“I can’t seem to get warm enough.” Her voice was half muffled in his cloak. “I feel it even on the inside.”
“Come.” He took her hand in his gloved one and pulled her toward the cot, covered in a bear pelt, the inner lining smoothed and cured to the softness of silk. He knew because it was his pelt. He needed to know she’d be kept warm at night when he couldn’t be there to do the job himself, so he’d made sure the pelt found its way here.
Sitting, he hauled her onto his lap, holding her as close as he could. “You’ve had an unbelievably taxing day.”
Wanting to feel her, he removed his leather gloves without jostling her and tossed them aside. Then he stroked his hand over her silken hair down her back. She snuggled close, slipping one hand beneath his cloak to rest it on his shirt over his heart.
“Yes. I suppose you’re right. But I can’t shake the feeling that something might happen to you. Or to us.”
“Shh. All is well.” He continued rubbing her softly, her body becoming pliant in his arms. “Why are you so worried? Is it Izzy?”
“Yes. And no. I’m also worried for you.” Her tiny hand fisted in his shirt. “If anything should happen to you, I don’t know how I could bear it.”
“Shhh. Nothing will part us.”
A wave of fierce need for possession swept over him. He tilted her head up, a finger beneath her chin, and pressed his lips to hers. Firm at first, she softened beneath him, opening her mouth and letting him in. He tasted her leisurely, as if a savage storm didn’t blow outside the door and an impending battle didn’t await them. A battle that could indeed take his life. He was a great warrior, but there was a good chance he marched to his own personal doom. He wouldn’t be content until he’d severed King Dominik’s head himself. He was smart enough to know one-on-one combat with the butcher king might end his life.
She moaned into his mouth. He cupped the nape of her neck, then sucked her full bottom lip, letting it slide out slowly. He licked along the seam to one side then back. Wanting to taste more of her skin, he swept up her jaw to the sensitive spot beneath her ear.
“Is that better?” he asked.
She clutched a hand in his hair. “That depends what you mean by better.”
Smiling against the creamy silk of her neck, he trailed his tongue down to the hollow between her collarbones. Her nails dug into his scalp.
“Are you warmer?
“Oh, yes,” she breathed huskily. “But now I’m also aroused.”
He returned to her lips, his hand sliding to her unbound breast, loving the softness of it beneath the wool fabric. He mounded gently, sweeping his thumb over the tip, knowing she could feel the slight abrasion beneath the layer.
“Mikhail.” She slid her nose up the side of his. “Please tell me you’re going to do something about that.”
“What do you want me to do, my queen?”
“I want you to spread me out onto this bed, climb on top, and bury yourself inside me.”
He stilled, watching her closely. Her sea-glass eyes were engulfed by her dilated pupils. Her boldness choked off his voice with lust. He thought his cock was hard before. Now it was a steel rod. No way was he leaving this room without doing just what she wanted. What he wanted.
“Very well then.”
He slipped her sleeve down over her shoulder till the breast he’d been teasing was exposed, the dusky-pink nipple puckered for him.
“As my queen commands.”
He cupped her chin with one hand, pressing his index finger to her lips. “Open your mouth.”
She did, so he slid his finger inside, stroking slowly in and out. Once. Twice. Then he pulled away and used the same finger to circle and wet her nipple. The pink of her areola tightened further. She watched him circling, then pinching softly with forefinger and thumb. The sight of her watching made him painfully hard.
Lifting his hand to her mouth, he stroked two fingers back inside, her gaze fixed on his. He slid his hand up under her skirt, where she opened her legs for him. Rubbing his fingers along her hot, slippery cleft.
“God, woman. So wet for me already.”
“Always,” she replied breathily, eyes falling to half mast as he stroked those two fingers inside her tight heat, his thumb circling on her swollen bud.
He leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth, teasing with his tongue. And teeth. She gasped. Her arousal scented the air. In a swift movement, he had her on her back and was pulling the dress over her head. She helped him, shimmying to release her body from the garment.
He unclipped his cloak and tossed it aside. She was already at the laces of his trousers. And hell, it was all he could do to pull the lacing free without ripping them. His cock sprang straight up against his abdomen, thick and ready.
She gasped again and lay back, clutching his shoulders to bring him with her. He wasted no time spreading her wider with his body, slicking the head of his cock along her cleft as he held his weight on one forearm. Her eyes slipped closed.
“Tell me what you want, Mina mine.”
She smiled. “Your beautiful, big cock inside me.”
He gave it to her with one hard thrust. Her tight heat squeezed around him. “So good,” he whispered. “You feel so good.”
“Ah!” She arched her neck and rocked her pelvis up.
“Do you want it hard or gentle?”
Her eyes opened, her vampire staring back at him. “Hard.”
“That’s what I thought.” He shifted, both forearms on either side of her head. “Wrap your ankles around my back.”
She did, tilting her pelvis up at the perfect angle. He pulled out to the tip, then thrust back in, burying himself so deep in this position. Her mouth fell open in ecstasy. He lowered and whispered against her lips. “Did I hit your sweet spot?”
“Yes.”
He did it again, and again, building a steady rhythm, making sure to hit home hard. Her whimpers of pleasure and the tightening of her thighs around him as she tilted up farther drove him near mad. His need for her had become a desperate, frightening thing, demanding relief.
But there was no end. Even when he came inside her body, it wouldn’t be enough. It was never enough. The fear of wanting her beyond reason made him drive harder, thrust faster, his cock swelling as she lifted her head to his ear and said, “Yes, Mikhail. Make me your woman. I am yours and yours alone.”
Without even thinking, he pulled out and flipped her body onto her stomach, her sun-yellow hair spilling across the bearskin. So beautiful. His beast wanted that beauty. Wanted her for his own, to cling her tight like a dragon with his treasure.
He gripped her hips, spreading her thighs with his and gazed down at her swollen, glistening pinkness. With a guttural groan, he pushed inside her. She curled her fingers into the dark fur, her pearl-white body spread and opened. For him.
He stared down, watching his thick cock tunnel into her soft, wet sex. “Mine,” he groaned. Clenching his fingers into the fleshy part of her hips, he pistoned faster, slapping his flesh to hers with a satisfying sound. His primitive beast liked it. Loved it. Wanted it. Wanted her.
“Mina.” He pounded. “Mine.” Again. “Forever.” He ground inside her in a circle at the end.
“Yes.” She wailed on a long moan, her orgasm rippling around his still-stiff rod. He continued grinding hard against her ass while the vibrating waves milked him. “Yes,” she whispered, her panting breath blowing strands of blond that had fallen in front of her face.
Before she’d come fully down, he fell forward, still clothed except for his trousers halfway down his thighs, pressing close to her body, his mouth at her ear. In a slower tempo, he pulled all the way out and pumped in, over and over. He nibbled her ear then her neck as she panted and whispered “yes” with each thrust of his pelvis.
He may have awoken her in the tower, but she’d awoken his heart. And he was strong enough of a man to own what this truly was. He brushed his mouth close to her ear again, still pumping inside her.
“I love you,” he whispered, the truth of his words swelling his heart and raking his insides with the need for her to feel the same.
She reached out and clutched her hands atop his, which were pressed into the bearskin fur. She tilted her bottom up higher and turned her head to him. “Kiss me. For I love you, too.”
He melded his mouth to hers. Her tongue flicked inside so sweetly and tenderly. He came on a feral groan, but she didn’t let him break the kiss. She sucked his tongue inside her mouth as he emptied his seed inside her body.
And it was heaven. As if the stars had aligned and blessed them both for recognizing love when they saw it. And giving it voice the moment of its birth.
He pulled out of her body and rolled her over to press a smiling kiss to her lips. “I love you, Vilhelmina Dragomir.”
She laced her slender arms around his neck, a tear slipping from one eye even as she smiled. “I love you, Mikhail Romanov.”
“Is it that bad that you must cry?” he teased.
“It’s that good.”
He shook his head, feeling almost dizzy. “I thought love was supposed to be painful and heartbreaking.”
She laughed, the sound reaching straight inside him, winding him ever closer.
“Now wherever did you hear a thing like that?” she asked.
He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. Isn’t that what they say in all the books?”
“What books have you been reading? Tragedies?”
“I only read books on military strategy and weaponry.”
“Of course, you do.”
She combed her fingers through his hair. He wanted her to do that forever. Well, perhaps not forever. He’d like to tup her as often as possible in between her soft caresses.
“Well, let me explain something to you, Captain. There are many books that portray love as the pinnacle of happiness. As the zenith of the heart’s delight.”
He swept his mouth softly against her kiss-swollen lips. “And is your heart at its zenith, my love?”
Her expression sobered as she cupped his face. “Yes. It absolutely is.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “But I’ll be happier when this war is over.”
“Bloody hell.” He pushed up off of the bed and tucked himself back into his pants, retying his laces as quickly as possible.
“What is it?”
He laughed. “What is it?” He picked up his heavy cloak and hooked the clasp, lifting the hood. Then picked up his gloves and slid one on. “One look from you and I forgot the whole world outside this tent.”
She smiled, so beautiful with her fair skin flushed pink from his kisses and caresses. He leaned over the bed, fisting his hand gently in her unbound hair with the ungloved hand, then kissed her. A light peck. Those half-lidded eyes, slits of the purest blue stared back with satisfaction. And he’d put that look there. He puffed with pride, wanting to tumble her back down to the bed.
“Heaven above, woman. I believe you’ve ensnared my very soul.”
She turned her head and placed a kiss inside his palm. Her sweetness would ruin him, soften his tough exterior as the formidable leader of the Bloodguard. He smiled at the fact that he didn’t give a fucking damn.
“Don’t worry, Captain.” She helped him put on the second glove, making sure it was snug and tight. “I’ll take good care of your soul.” She peered up, a vulnerable expression making her appear childlike. “Will you take good care of my heart that you’ve stolen?”
He curled his gloved hand around her delicate fingers, pressing her palm to his lips. “The greatest care.” His throat was thick with emotion. “I’ll treasure it forever. And I’ll never break it.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Upon my life.”
Then she smiled. And all was right with the world.
“Now you need to get some sleep. We’ll leave at the break of dawn. I want you well-rested because we’ve got a long ride ahead.”
“We’re going straight to Izeling, aren’t we?”
He lifted her toward the head of the cot so she could tuck under the bearskin fur. He needed to know she was safe and warm before he went out on patrol.
“Yes. How’d you know?”
“I listen to you men more than you think. I’ve heard you talk of the king’s fortress where he keeps his rabid vampire army in Izeling.”
He tucked her in and brushed his hand over her golden hair. “You’ll be a mighty queen, Mina.”
“With you at my side,” she whispered. Hesitantly. Questioningly.
“Yes, love.” He smiled and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “With me at your side.”
She sighed heavily as if a weight had fallen. He hadn’t even realized he’d put it there. How much he’d meant to her. But now he did. And she meant more to him than life itself.
He marched for the entrance and turned back one last time to find the most beautiful creature on Earth smiling at him.
“I’ll wake you in the morning.”
She arched a brow. Her smile turned wicked. “I look forward to it.”
With a laugh, he left her.
He nodded to the two vampire guards on duty at the entrance, sensing six sets of heartbeats nearby, surrounding the back of the tent.
“No one leaves their post till I send your replacements.”
“Yes, Captain.” They snapped in unison.
Feeling assured, he marched toward the southern perimeter to start his rounds. It would be a long night in the storm.