Forsaken Heart Page 7

  “Help me!” His fingers scratched into the dirt, raking up leaves.

  Bede wretched his head back, the sound of bones crunching leaving her with a sense of satisfaction. Tossing him in a twitching heap on the ground, she turned her attention to the others. The rancid stench of fear filled her head as she appraised them beneath her lashes. Her stare penetrated each of them, and she felt her lips curl. Licking her lips, she moaned softly at the faint traces of blood clinging to her flesh before rising to her feet.

  She slipped her toe beneath the hilt of a sword and sent it flying into the air. She caught it skillfully. Spinning it in her palm, she advanced. “Cowards, filthy insects that prey upon those you believe to be weaker. He is mine, and I care not for your presence.”

  Throwing the sword, she chuckled at the sickening squelch of it rocking back and forth in the man’s flesh. Darting forward, she caught another in her hands, her nails digging into his throat, blood oozing down his flesh as she pulled him closer. The remaining bandits scrambled, screaming into the darkness.

  Wrinkling her nose at the acidic stench of urine, Bede glanced down to where the man she was holding’s feet shook. “Weakling, unworthy. My baby sister holds more bravery than you. Die, you worthless bag of bones. Aye, you were warned, you should have heeded it and let us pass.” Issuing a furious snarling sound, she threw him. His body crashed into a tree and fell with a dull thud to the ground, already forgotten.

  Kneeling next to Gawain who groaned in agony, Bede hesitated to touch him. Every nerve in her body ached, a strange craving she’d never known flowing like fire through her veins. Leaning closer, she licked at the wounds on his face, the taste of his blood stirring a fire in her loins.

  “No,” Gawain protested weakly. “You must not.”

  “I must,” Bede replied, bending forward, her gaze steady. As if someone hovered by her shoulder, whispering the words, she knew what it would take for him to heal, to be strong enough to continue on. “You need to feed. To heal you need blood. There is naught but mine and I would give it gladly.”

  “I will heal…” Gawain coughed, a splatter of red froth on his lips.

  “Aye, but it will take time. Time you do not have.” Bede pressed her lips to his face, tracing wound after wound. Sitting back on her haunches she stared into his pain filled gaze. “I am sorry.” Wincing, she pulled the sword from his chest, tossing it aside without a care.

  She squeezed his hand as he roared his agony and fury to the night. There would be no rest this night, there could be none. Smoothing her hands down his chest, her eyes burned with unshed tears she refused to allow to fall. The time for tears, for weakness, would come, but not in the dirt and bloody mud of a battlefield.

  “Tell me how I can assist your healing. What do you need to—”

  “Blood, fresh blood.” Gawain, panting, rolled over to cough.

  Bede wrinkled her nose at the clots that landed with a splunk before her knees. He was healing, but it was too slow. They were in danger here, the enemy would regroup. Perhaps there would be more attackers, perhaps even a Roman legion or two would be out and about. Licking her lips, she glanced around. The road was clear of all signs of the men. Only the man she’d bled remained. Narrowing her eyes, she looked deeper into the forest to the man she’d thrown.

  “Did he live?”

  “No, there is no heartbeat.” Gawain groaned a harsh, agonized sound reaching deep into her very soul. “We cannot remain. Get the horses.”

  Bede gasped at the touch of his hand. Her eyes widened, and the fire coursing through her veins throbbed to life. Heavy, full, her breasts ached beneath the fabric of her dress. She could feel a hollow throb between her legs, a hunger building. Her eyes darted to his, and she recognized the feelings in his gaze. Lust flared, hotter, stronger than any desire to feed any morality. Leaning closer, she trailed a finger down his face, her nail gathering blood.

  Slowly, her eyes locked to his, she lifted her bloody nail to her lips and sucked, a moan of pleasure echoing on the night. His eyes darkened, lips curling up to reveal his extended fangs. The pounding of his blood echoed in her head.

  “Yes.” Gawain’s guttural reply vibrated through her body.

  With a groan, she grabbed the front of his tunic, her lips crashing into his. Clumsy, untutored, her tongue traced over his lips, demanding entrance. When he gasped she took full advantage, her tongue darting past his teeth to duel with his. Scrambling closer, she pressed against him, her hands tangling in his hair, tracing his shoulders, his neck. Again and again she kissed him. Her body on fire, shuddering and moaning with each response from him. Her blood pooling with each caress, each brush of his tongue against hers.

  “Gawain, please…” Whimpering, she threw her head back, exposing her throat, desperate for him to sink his teeth into the flesh there. Pressing his head downward, she guided him toward the throbbing pulse of her life’s blood.

  “Nay, nay, we cannot.” Gawain licked, suckled, his muted protest at odds with the way his hands palmed her breasts, teasing her nipples into hardened peaks. “Bede, stop. Gods above, stop me…”

  “No, take. Drink.” Bede reached up to scratch at her throat. “Take what you need. I am yours.” Screaming in pleasure, she shook when he sank his teeth deep. Her body trembling, every nerve alive, the pain bordered on pleasure and she writhed against him. “Yes!”

  Pressing closer, she licked her lips, her head shifting, resting against his shoulder. Her hand darted down his body, her fingers seeking the waistband of his trews. His fingers, rough and calloused, grabbed hers as she palmed his hardened cock.

  “Nooo, let me.” She whimpered, her eyes rolling back in her head as darkness swam within her vision. Each pull on her throat echoed in her womb, and she hovered on the brink. Clinging to him, she pressed closer, tighter, the need to share beyond any control she had.

  Stars exploded behind her eyelids as he lapped at the blood oozing from the wound. Already she could feel her body hovering, waiting on the precipice. She flew apart when his fingers touched her bare skin, the nails scoring the insides of her thighs before he cupped her womanhood. Arching her hips into his palm, the friction against her clit shattered her. Screaming out his name, Bede fell into the darkness that hovered around her. Whole, fulfilled for the first time in her life.

  Chapter 8

  Her blood pulsing through her body, Bede hurried through the shadows with Gawain. Every sound roared in her ears—the howl of a wolf and the sound of the leaves in the trees. A glance up revealed a world of shadows and darkness, but her eyes could see the indents in the bark of the trees, count the branches on trees far head.

  What was happening to her? Why? Tears threatened, burning her eyes with each footfall. Heavy and sweet, the taste of blood lay on her tongue. Haunting her. She glanced at her hands, noting the growth of her nails, they had grown, sharpened. They resembled Gawain’s claws, deadly tools with the ability to cut through layers of flesh.

  Panic swelled, her heart racing with each thought dancing through her head. Had she become like him? Was she a killer? A monster set to ravage the mortal world? No, no, it was not possible. She wasn’t a killer, a butcher, rather she was a woman…wasn’t she?

  Gods above, how had it come to this? How had she forgotten what her mother had told her time and again? There were beings out there who could kill with but a touch, a thought—vampire, dragon, demon, all walked the earth seeking the weak. Had she become so weak, so frail she’d fallen into the trap they’d set? If so, how could she get out?

  Her stomach heaved, the very idea of leaving Gawain enough to set her teeth on edge. Could she walk away? What would she do if she were given the chance to turn and leave? To leave Gawain, the quest, the life she even now could feel closing in on her?

  If given the chance to be mortal, to be what she had been, would her life be different? Indeed, she’d long ago felt the blade of death. Casting a quick look at Gawain, she swallowed against the bitter tide of fear and doubt ri
sing over her. Could she do this? Aye, it was done and she would accept it. She had to.

  “You’re a brave woman.” The familiar drawl drew her attention to the sky. “You are changing, but you’re not becoming a monster, Bede. Remember what I told you, allow him to guard your heart and you will be rewarded.”

  Taking comfort in the soft whisper, Bede moved a step closer to Gawain, her heart aching at what he must be thinking. Would he accept her? A mortal being within his world?

  * * * *

  Gawain froze mid-stride for a heartbeat, his body on fire. Dawn was on the horizon, and Bede clung to him. Blood soaked the collar of her dress, and two fang marks stood out on her throat. Her eyes were bright, shifting from side to side, her shiny, partially formed claws digging into his arm as they hurried through the night. The silence between them tense, filled with questions. How would she handle the truth? Could he break it to her in such a way she’d come to except what she was becoming with each passing heartbeat?

  He sighed and looked at her. Downcast, her eyes revealed nothing, yet he knew she had to feel something. Guilt tickled at the back of his mind. In his own way he’d failed her as much as he’d failed Muadhnait. Selene had given her to him, he was certain, but had his goddess thought of the consequences? He doubted it. No mortal wanted to be turned into the being they’d been taught to fear and loath all their lives.

  Swallowing a bitter curse, Gawain squeezed her hand. He would do what he could to ease the crossing, even if he didn’t know what exactly he had to do. The thought of doing nothing and losing her enough to make him question everything, up to and including his loyalty to his king.

  “We will find your sister,” Gawain promised, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I will get you to safety and continue the search.”

  “Your king wants her. Why?” Bede looked up at him, her lips parted, a flash of a fang in the darkness. “If we find her, your king will—”

  “No, I think not.” Gawain stared into her eyes. He couldn’t explain what he felt in his gut, he barely understood himself. “Trust me, sweetling. He’ll not harm her.”

  Bede sank her teeth into her lip. A frown marred her face, sorrow in her eyes. Faith was something they both had little enough of, and her doubts were easily read in her eyes.

  The certainty remained, unchallenged by even fear, Hema would do nothing to harm the child. Selene would punish anyone, even a king, for destroying what she had created, and there was no doubt she’d had a hand in this.

  With a sigh, Gawain sought to sooth Bede’s fears. “He won’t kill without reason. She is said to read the soul, it is fair to assume he wants to have her read those within his court. We are on the brink of a war.”

  “That is now our…” Bede stopped and stared at him, confusion in her gaze.

  “No need to concern yourself, Bede. I will protect her.”

  “And who will protect me?”

  “I protect what is mine,” he snapped, and whirled to stalk into the darkness. Raking a hand through his hair, he froze for a second before lifting his hand to his face. The smell of her essence was strong, filling his head as he held his hand before him. A shudder traced over him, the image of her coming apart in his arms flitting through his head. Beauty such as he’d never known, her body arching into his touch, the wash of her orgasm hot on his hand, on his fingers. The very taste soaking into his tongue.

  Curse the instinct, the pull. He had no time for a mate, no time to break his vows. Until Saltar was once again condemned to eternity in the caverns peace would not be.

  She is your mate, Gawain, and as such she will protect you and serve you. She is a mortal woman, flesh and bone, no more than food. I have never drunk… You drank of her, his conscience whispered.

  Bede, innocent and mortal—the mate of a warrior who failed. Gawain shook his head, his hearing picking up the sound of her footsteps. The wind carrying her scent to him, the aroma mixed with his own. Vows or no, he had more to protect than just himself.

  * * * *

  Tall, lush grass rose up in the clearing. The night air was alive with the scent of heather and fresh water. Silver moonlight cast a shadow across the area, turning every boulder, every nook and cranny, black with shadows.

  Walking through the last few trees, Bede glanced around, seeking any sign of life. A look at Gawain shocked her, a faint bluish tint surrounded him, the free flowing tendrils of their tattoos wrapping around his body. Her eyes focused on the serpent at his throat, the red eyes stared at her with kindness, the fangs retracted.

  “Gawain, why is your tattoo so at ease? Its fangs are not…” She waved a hand at his throat, uncertainty prickling along her nerves.

  “It’s a mating thing.” Gawain shifted, the scent of unease filling the air. “Our kind uses them as a means of protection, of identification. We’re born with them.”

  “And mine?” Bede tugged on his arm, pulling him around to face her. Her voice cracked as she touched her throat before dropping her hand. “What of me? I can feel it beneath my skin.”

  Gawain frowned, tilted her chin up to stare at her throat, an unreadable expression on his face. His fingers traced over the snake beneath her skin.

  Bede shivered, the scales rattling together as her beast stirred. Grabbing his hand, she gasped, her body on edge, fire building in her veins. Leaning forward, she pressed against him. “It means we’re joined.”

  “Mated,” Gawain whispered, his eyes tracing her features. “Something we cannot have. I would drink you dry during the claiming, Bede. The exchange of blood is important, vital even, to the mating ritual. We need to exchange…and you cannot drink it, you are not yet...”

  Bede lifted her chin, the scent of his arousal thick. “I can.”

  “No, you cannot. I pray she has not let it get so far.”

  Bede frowned, the faint note of fear in his voice alerting her to more than what she’d thought. It wasn’t about him drinking her dry, there was something more to it. “What are we going to do, Gawain?”

  “Find one of those who knows a gatekeeper. It is rumored there is one not far from here, but it is too far to walk before daybreak. We will seek shelter for the day then approach her.”

  “What of the horses? I can hear them, they’ve not run far but they are spooked and would take a few moments to catch.”

  “We could use them, but there is no time. Come, we must not stay here.”

  Bede moistened her dry lips, her eyes scanning the area as she nodded. “As you wish, milord.”

  “Take care, Bede. The sorceresses are not eager to help. They demand payment, and each payment can be costly.”

  Nothing could be more costly than my sister’s death. Wisely, she bit back the sharp retort and followed him into the deeper brush.

  Shadows spread long, dark along the ground when he stopped and dropped his sword and cloak, then rolled the kinks from his shoulders. Sinking to a boulder, Bede glanced around. The air was thick with the odor of mildew and rotting vegetation. In the distance she could hear the babble of a stream, the sound of something moving.

  “Are you going to hunt?” She eyed the column of his throat, her stomach growling.

  “We’ll eat when we can. I won’t risk it now.” Gawain dropped to the ground, wrapped his cloak around himself, and pulled a corner over his face. “Sleep, woman, the walk tonight will be hard. The path is steep, rocky, and will not be welcoming.”

  Rubbing her throat, Bede curled up on the cool ground, her eyes staring at the sunlight speckling the grass beyond the canopy of the trees. She could feel the heat building already.

  “Go to sleep.”

  Gawain’s grumpy command grated on her nerves, but she closed her eyes. Knowing the cantankerous man, he’d make her run the entire way to this witch’s house. If he didn’t, he’d surely be eager to yell at her. Gods above, the man was going to drive her insane before he secured her sister—or gave in to his lust.

  * * * *

  Silver beams of light cast sha
dows along her sweat covered skin. Beneath the pale flesh, blue rivers of life flowed. Her breasts rose and fell with each rapid breath, nails scoring his back, his ass. Whimpers of delight filled his head as he bent to bite at the curve between her arm and her breast. Sweet as candy, the taste lay lightly on his tongue.

  “Gods above, yes. More, Gawain, more.” Bede pulled his head closer to her chest, holding him in place.

  He shuddered at the softest of caresses along his cock, her nails trailing through the thick curls around the base. Groaning when she caressed his balls, he lunged forward, pressing his shaft against the softness of her abdomen. The warm evening breeze whispered over the tip of his cock, sending a shiver up his spine as it cooled the moisture clinging to his head.

  “Yes.” Bede arched up, her thighs tightening around his hips. The hot, wet glide of her pussy against his balls sending shards of pleasure through him with each shift of her hips, each roll of her body.

  Intense tingling raced along his spine, settling in the tender sacks beneath his shaft. He could feel the pressure building into an unfamiliar maelstrom. Thrusting forward again and again, he wallowed in her response. In the scent of her that filled his head, and the hot, wet glide of her core against him. “Need to be inside you.”

  “Now, lover, please, now.” Bede whimpered, her nails leaving welts along his back, her teeth at his throat. “I want you inside me, want to feel your seed.”

  Roaring his pleasure, Gawain rolled his hips, pressing the thick head against her opening. Inch by inch he slid inside. Pleasure rolled over him like the moonlight along his flesh. Rolling his hips, he thrust deeper, his hands pulling her thighs higher, wrapping them around his waist.

  “Come for me, Bede. Come around my hard cock. I want to feel you orgasm.” His guttural command sent shards of pleasure down his spine. He could feel his scrotum tightening, the pleasure building. With a final thrust he shuddered as her inner walls rippled, tightening, milking his length. He grunted with each spurt of his seed deep within her warm body.