Primal Kill (The Order of Vampires #5)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

“ T hat one.” Cerberus pointed to the willowy creature with ivory skin and long dark hair.

“Nicole,” the club owner called, and the woman stepped forward. The other dancers drifted back to the shadowed part of the stage where heavy curtains hung.

She wasn’t perfect, but she’d do. Reaching into his pocket, Cerberus removed a wad of crisply folded bills. Mortals were so economical. So disposable.

The club owner stepped in front of the girl. “Now, I know we agreed on five hundred, but if you want to keep her a little longer than two hours, I could cut you a deal.”

Cerberus stared down at the beady-eyed urchin. “Are you altering the terms of our agreement? ”

“Not at all. I’m just saying, for a thousand, you could have her all night.”

He intended to keep her for the entire night regardless of what he paid. And come morning, there would be little left. At this point, the mortal urchin was negotiating his own fate. He despised weaselly little snakes, as he’d survived on a diet of slithery creatures for far too long. “We agreed five hundred.”

“Then five hundred it is. Just make sure she’s back before the end of her shift.”

He tossed the cash at the man and caught the girl’s arm, dragging her toward the door.

“You in town on business?—”

“No talking.”

He’d had a productive few days and managed to commandeer a vehicle and some new clothes. There had been no sign of his mate, but Cerberus was used to biding his time. He’d find her eventually, and when he did, he’d make her pay for any delays.

The girl sat in the passenger seat silently as he drove. Her questions visibly built, but under his compulsion, she was unable to verbalize a single moan.

She had Lilias’s pale skin, but her hair lacked the sienna hues that lived in his memory. Ritual was important. Cerberus valued attention to detail.

Pulling into the parking lot of a corner apothecary, he shut off the car. She looked at him with worry in her eyes. The phantom scent of her anxiousness gave the air a bite. Pungent with metallic nuances similar to a sharp-scented onion cooking into a sweet broth. Like a good béchamel , the longer she simmered, the richer her flavor would be in the end.

Lifting a strand of hair from her shoulder he stilled and scowled. “What is this?”

Compelled to stay silent, she couldn’t answer, so he tugged the synthetic strand, yanking it free from her scalp.

“Artifice.” He threw the plastic strands on the floor.

Her brows pinched as her jaw trembled.

Jerking her over the center console, he sifted through her hair, finding several tracks stapled close to her skull. Fury built at the sense of being deceived, and he shoved her hard into the door.

“Take them out before I get back. Do not leave this car.”

The bright artificial lights of the pharmacy irritated his eyes. After centuries underground, one developed a deep appreciation for darkness, so he often donned sunglasses regardless of the time of day.

Finding the proper color of hair dye was a simple task with today’s conveniences. Nothing like it used to be for women with all the lead, ochre, and horse piss. Once he paid for his goods, he returned to the vehicle. The woman sat where he left her, now holding a nest of fake black hair on her lap.

Cerberus drove to the hotel. As soon as they were alone, he stripped her of her clothing and gave her the box of hair dye.

She looked up at him with concern.

“Follow the directions. Then bathe. Come to me when you’re finished.”

He shut her inside the bathroom and stretched out on the large bed, folding his hands behind his neck, his mind retracing those familiar recollections of the one female that still haunted him to this day.

Lilias…

The mere mention of her name hit like a sweet opiate, and he calmed. Sometimes he hated her. Sometimes he loved her. But he never lost the urge to punish her.

She was always with him, tucked deep in the secret corners of his mind. His psyche had more fractures than the soldiers who lay dead at the Battle of Assandun, so perhaps he’d rewritten the truth over time and misremembered minor details, but her face and beauty were forever branded on his black soul.

Whether thinking of her fondly or enraged by the memories, his heart—to his annoyance—obsessed over what he could not have. Indulging in his fantasies never delivered the satisfaction of reality, but he did what he needed to do whenever he felt the urge to get her out of his head.

She was a spring flower on the coldest winter days. Her potent scent of ripe innocence enchanted him. But she had not been for him. She’d been a gift for the king .

As the King’s most trusted guard, Cerberus had been privy to the immoral and often perverse happenings at court. He not only served King Charles as a loyal guard, but he also protected His Majesty’s secrets. As a guardian of so many precious things, it only made sense that Cerberus would be entrusted with protecting Lilias as well.

Stretching out on the hotel bed, he folded his hands behind his head. His mind went back to that time when life was fresh and promising. He had yet to experience the duplicity of females, so he had not expected Lilias to be such a conniving little cunt.

Charles sat in the shadows of the opened wardrobe, his thin fingers prattling slowly over the gilded arm of his chair.

“You found her?” the King said by way of greeting, his thin lips curling about his blunt teeth with palpable anticipation.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Mud and blood still dripped from Cerberus’s heavy boots, so he did not fully enter the king’s private chambers.

“Did she put up a fight?” Born a weak and sickly child, the King maintained fragile health all his life and a deep respect for Cerberus’s strength and immortality.

“Four guards were lost.”

“You were the one to finally seize her?”

“I did as you asked. ”

“Good. Your loyalty to the Crown will be rewarded generously. Guard her with the attention and devotion you guard your King.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

A slow, wheezing breath filled the silence expressing the King’s excitement. “I want to see her.”

“She’s been taken to her chamber to ? —"

“Now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Pivoting out of the private chambers, Cerberus marched through the corridors untethered by ceremony. As a draugr, death was no danger to him, so protection was unnecessary.

The trappings of his armor added to his bulk and announced his approach with the alarming clamor of steel. And while he didn’t soundlessly glide like a ghost, he moved with inhuman agility for a male of his heft and strength.

Despite not knowing what he was, soldiers instinctively moved out of his path. When he passed by, women frequently fell into prayer. He towered over the masses and carried the cold essence of the underworld with him wherever he went.

He existed to serve the Crown and lived without fear of torture. He was the King’s greatest weapon of torment. No one within the kingdom's walls had the stomach to do the things he could do, and when the King needed answers or someone to blame, Cerberus was the first to get the guilty talking.

He did not resemble the men at court. From their feeble physiques to their foppish attire, they were perhaps the weakest generation of this race he’d seen thus far. The females were equally unappealing, nothing but wasted flesh on fragile bones.

It wasn’t his Viking height or the clamor of his armor that set them on edge, but the fire in his stare, shadowed by the hammered iron of the Viks? helmet that fit his skull. He could slaughter every last one of them before they realized their pathetic mortal lives were over.

They were weak. Even the royal army was preoccupied with belts and buttons fit for fanfare instead of war. Overthrowing the throne would be easy for any man willing to approach it logically. And while Cerberus served this king, he’d certainly live long enough to serve another.

His gaze marked every onlooker as he dutifully went to fetch the female. For now, because it suited him, his loyalty was to His Majesty. Cerberus was content to serve as a hound and guardian of the Crown, and the King valued his loyalty.

Death did not haunt Cerberus, and he never hesitated to take a life. He often reported back to Charles with blood still dripping from the horns of his helmet and the echoes of lesser mortals’ screams still echoing in his ears. None of that mattered as long as victory had been won.

“Step aside,” he ordered the guard at the tower chamber.

Cerberus rapped his split knuckles on the metal door and entered. Lilias’s hard glare landed on him with the unflinching regality of a royal, but there was no trace of imperial blood in her body .

However, she possessed immortality in her veins, which was why His Majesty wanted her.

Cerberus barged into her chambers, and she stood, the material of her gown still damp from the rain and clinging to her form. Her breasts jutted against the ripples of silk, unconfined or adorned with the trappings of a corset like the females at court typically wore.

“You promised I wouldn’t be a prisoner here.” She was a commoner with the confidence of a queen.

“You are His Majesty’s guest.”

“If I am his guest, why has he not greeted me?”

“His Majesty has requested your presence in his private quarters.”

Staggering back a small step, she studied him.

His gaze dropped to the slender column of her neck as she swallowed tightly. The slight ripple in her confident fa?ade intrigued him. While immortals were the more advanced species, they were far outnumbered and could quickly be overrun or tortured through experimentation if ever truly exposed.

“Does he know about us?” she whispered too low for the other guards to hear.

Although she was also Norse and of a similar species, she was from a far more delicate race. His breed had been called everything from ghost walkers to skull warriors while her kind awaited maturity and signals from the gods.

Cerberus held her stare and nodded. It was not his preference to mistreat the King's guests unless ordered to do so. “Cooperate, and you will not be harmed. ”

Unlike other females, she did not drop her gaze in his presence. “Do I have your word?”

She was wise, hiding her powers beneath symptoms of poverty. Cerberus should have known then not to trust her. “You have my word.”

“What does he want from me?”

“Only your blood.” His gaze again dropped to the slope of her breasts and the swell of her hips. “For now.”

Her head cocked, and a tumble of radiant copper curls fell over her bare shoulder. She looked up at him with eyes as green and glistening as a dewy pasture. “Is he dying?”

“All mortals are dying.”

“Is it the plague? Why not offer him your blood.”

“A female can comfort him in ways I cannot.”

“There is no curing him?”

“No, but your blood can sustain him and gift him with vitality.”

Her chest lifted, pressing her firm breasts against the worn material of her thin gown. A single tear rolled from her ruby lashes down her ivory cheek. “This is not my purpose in life.”

“Tears cannot change your fate now, princess.”

Her gaze snapped to his, sharp with censorship. “I am not a servant to this realm, and you know nothing about my fate.”

The fire in her stare caused his insides to burn with an unfamiliar heat. He could punish her for taking such a sharp tone, but something inexplicable held him back .

“The gods cannot save you now—princess,” he repeated the endearment simply to needle her.

“Is that it then? My purpose in this life is to remain in this tower, occasionally called upon by the king and used for my veins?”

Blood rushed to his cock. The desire to brush away that lonesome tear had his roughened fingers twitching, but he resisted the urge to touch her for fear of breaking her. Never before had he felt so compelled to protect a female.

“Obey your King, and there will be no pain.”

Her head lifted, her ruby curls cascading down her back. “And if I disobey, will you deliver the pain?”

She accurately understood his role, so there was no point in deceiving her. “Yes.”

The sharp angle of her elfin face lifted in challenge. “Neither you nor your King could conceive my threshold for pain.” She eyed him up and down dismissively. “I will not be in this tower forever. My destiny is elsewhere, and nothing you do can change that.”

“Perhaps. I’ll allow you to decide if your stay will be pleasant or unpleasant.”

Her green eyes narrowed. “You’ll never hurt me.”

How wrong she’d been.

The shower started, and the scent of ammonia cut through the air, quickly replaced by the floral bouquet of fragrant soaps. He shut his eyes, his anticipation slowly building. These fanciful moments satisfied him as he hoped they would, but they eased the longing so he could focus on revenge.

“Tell me, walker, how does someone like you find themselves serving a weak, diseased mortal king?” Lilias’s throaty voice pleased him more than music ever could, and he enjoyed their discussions whenever he escorted her to and from the tower.

The cold hunk of muscle occupying his chest seemed to thaw in her presence and flutter out of rhythm. Only she could cause such a reaction, though he never dared to ask her why that was.

“I was gifted to His Majesty as a young boy.”

“But you chose to stay as a man.” She understood a Norse skull warrior could not be ordered or forced into obedience.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“The King values me.”

“The King is a weakling.”

“Careful, princess.” He could justly snap her fragile neck for such a treasonous statement. It would take no effort to pulverize her delicate bones into dust, despite his reluctance to do so.

Her lips, dark and wet like the seeds of a pomegranate, quirked to one side. “You won’t hurt me, Cerberus Maddox XI.”

He was a loyal guard and gatekeeper of His Royal Majesty’s guests, protector of the crown, yet she could disarm him by simply using his name. In a short time, she also mastered the King and adopted a regal radiance that enchanted even the eunuchs of the kingdom.

Charles had been delighted with his new possession. She was intended only to serve him with vitality, but Lilias quickly became a coveted object of His Majesty’s affection. He was set on not only having Lilias’s blood but also winning her heart. Every day the King attempted to speak to her, but she remained stoically silent in his presence, providing only her submission and her vein.

When she kneeled before His Majesty and offered her vein, Cerberus sometimes caught glimpses of her reflection in the polished vases around the King’s chambers. Those visions haunted him more than he wanted to admit.

Cerberus dreamed of her kneeling at his feet, not to offer her vein but in an act of carnal loyalty, an act of love. Such fantasies plagued him during the day, especially on the days when the King’s addiction to her blood left her too depleted to walk, and Cerberus had to carry her wilted body back to the tower. Seeing her in such a state tempted him to steal her away and keep her as a prize for himself.

“You should not let him take so much.” He gently placed her in her bed and brushed back her faded curls.

Under the weight of His Majesty’s greed, her radiance and youthful glow dulled. Her veins frequently collapsed at the cost of the ailing King’s vitality, but her beauty somehow remained.

She turned her face into his calming touch. “If I asked you to let me go, Cerberus, would you? ”

His heart jolted at the thought of never seeing her again. He could not protect her if she left this place alone. At that moment, he made a silent vow to conjure a plan of escape, at which point they could both leave.

“I will see to it that life becomes more bearable for you.”

A tear rolled from the corner of her eye. “My soul is dying here.”

“I will not let you die, Lilias. But you must rest so you can heal. You need your strength before circumstances can improve.”

Her eyes closed, forming crescent shadows under her copper lashes. “My mate needs me.”

Cerberus stiffened, his hand curling around the hilt of his sword. “What mate?”

She licked her dry lips. “I sense him trying to find me, but he can’t get past the Royal Guard.”

Cerberus drew back and fanned out his senses, scanning the palace walls and the surrounding woods for any trace of an immortal male. He sensed nothing nearby.

His fingers gently traced over her brow and she sighed. She’d become prone to fainting spells of late. Perhaps her weakness was causing visions.

“Take my blood, Lilias. It will restore your strength and clear your head.”

The shower shut off, and his mind jolted to the present. The mortal woman moved about the bathroom clumsily. He could hear the rapid thrum of her heartbeat and the quick clip of her shallow breaths. In another hour, it would all be over.

The blow dryer clicked on and his mind returned to Lilias, recalling the sweet decadence of her mouth drawing from his vein.

The delicate caress of her tongue teased his soul, tugging parts of him no female had touched before. “That’s it, princess. My blood will make you strong again.”

He cherished those moments when he could cradle her close, always keeping his body under control by a fraying thread, ignoring the hardening of his cock and the tremble in his chest.

He was a slave to her beauty and honor-bound to protect her. The thought of anyone else touching her so intimately threw him into a murderous rage. Even the weak King was wearing on his nerves.

He’d been such a fool to trust her…

His hands curled into fists as he eyed the bathroom door. When he lay in the earth, dying a million deaths as he waited for his body to heal, he suffered those intimate memories of her again and again, bitterly aware that her kindness had all been a lie .

“I’m going to marry Lilias,” King Charles had announced one evening. Cerberus had not turned his attention from the window. There was no love between the King and Lilias. On the contrary, she despised him and often moaned over how grotesque she found his feeble appearance and cold touch.

“She would make a fine queen, don’t you agree, Cer?”

“Will you force her to wed?”

“I’m the King. Women would betray their god to have my name.”

Women, yes, but Lilias was an immortal female. Marriage was a mortal practice that paled in contrast to the bonds mated immortals shared.

Charles was set on seducing his future queen. He gifted Lilias with flowers, jewels, the finest silks, and the most luxurious furs until she resigned herself to marry the King.

The wedding was a grand affair celebrated throughout the realm—until a plague struck. Corpses mounted with little explanation as mortals splashed holy water and burned the dead.

Bodies were drained of blood before they hit the ground, and victims typically suffered twin puncture wounds, which were said to be the mark of death. But this was not like the telltale rash that preceded the deadly fever or the lumps incurred by prior plagues.

It was an infestation.

Immortals learned of the illustrious Queen and took her presence in the kingdom as an open invitation. Households were bled dry and left for dead. Villagers grew weak with anemia. Bloodletting became a fashionable practice as the palace became overrun with vampires.

Lilias waited for her mate, but Cerberus ensured no immortal males breached the kingdom walls and, over time, the light in her eyes dulled.

A songbird imprisoned in a gilded cage, will eventually lose the desire to sing, but Lilias never lost faith that her mate would come. She waited by her window every night for his rescue.

The King’s fanatical need to please the Queen became an obscene obsession. If she wanted music, Charles sent the finest harpsichords, flutes, and fiddles with musicians ordered to play until their fingers bled. If she craved goose, he’d have the fattest one sent to her table and carved.

Lilias no longer resembled the peasant girl who had captured Cerberus’s heart. Her gowns were no longer plain, and her hair no longer hung loose beneath her jeweled crown. Maids doted on her as much as they doted on the King, and when Charles wanted to feed, Lilias went to him without objection.

She was so convincing, so enchanting, but Cerberus could scent her deceit. Something was brewing beyond the castle walls, and he wanted to know what secrets she hid.

“Do not act like a wounded bird with me,” he snarled one afternoon, walking her back to her chambers after an especially petulant display at court.

“Mind your tone, walker. Charles is my king. Only he has the right to speak to me as he pleases. You do not.”

“You haven’t been a victim since the day you arrived, and he has never been your king ,” Cerberus growled mockingly.

“You overestimate your position. I could have you replaced with any guard of my choosing. I only need to say the word ? —”

She gasped as he caught her arm and hauled her into a dark alcove, caging her in with his body. “And I would break your neck long before such a request would reach your lips.”

Fire flashed in her emerald stare as she bared her teeth. “Take your hands off me.”

Rather than release her, he crowded her more. “You don’t love him.”

“Of course, I don’t,” she practically spat. “And he doesn’t love me. I’m merely a possession he covets.”

“Then why visit his bed when you and I both know it will bear no fruit.”

“If you don’t like my position, blame yourself. I’m here because of you. Do not fault me for having the wherewithal to improve my situation. Eventually, the feeble King will die and I will inherit all of this, and you and the rest of us will be better for it.”

He saw it then, the greed for power in her eyes. She didn’t want rubies and furs. She wanted far more. While Charles wasted away, coveting a female whose heart he would never possess, she plotted to unburden the King of all his power using nothing more than her female wiles.

If Cerberus could remove his jealousy from the equation, it seemed a small and wise sacrifice for her to make. “You don’t plan to be wed for long.”

A cold chuckle passed her dark lips. “It wouldn’t take much. I could easily taint my blood with poison. The healers would simply assume he passed of natural causes.”

“They would never let an immortal rule.”

With no royal blood or noble lineage, the bishops wouldn’t allow her to sit on the throne for long. And after Charles’ passing, Cerberus would likely be the one ordered to take her head, an act that would kill him as well.

“The King must stay alive,” he decided.

“Do you think I fear treason?”

“I think you’re the most fearless female alive. But you will never outmatch me, and I’m who they will send to collect your head.”

“First, you would have to find me.”

His hand closed around her throat, framing her jaw and applying pressure until her defiant gaze locked with his. “There is not a corner of this world where you could hide that I would not find you.” His grip tightened. “I’m more than the King’s guard, Lilias. I’m a draugen . Do not speak to me as if I’m some impressionable pup meant to bring your slippers. Cross me, and you will pay. On that, you have my word.”

And pay she had.

The blow dryer shut off, and his gaze returned to the door. The little mortal’s heartbeat frantically purred like the wing of a hummingbird.

Ah, there was nothing sweeter than the sharp tang of torment that flavored a difficult surrender. While her instincts urged her to run, his compulsion overruled any sense of free will.

He crossed the hotel room and opened the bathroom door. “You won’t need a towel.”

Leaving the door ajar, he returned to the bed, propping himself up to watch as she inwardly battled her instincts.

Her hair was finer than it appeared at the club, but the copper dye had gone a long way to making her look more like Lilias. Her employer implied she’d done this before, so her hesitance was strictly the result of her fear. Her instincts likely recognized him as a predator and she as his prey.

Mortals were foolish creatures. They could suffer anything for the right pay. How they weren’t yet extinct was beyond him.

Slowly, her foot stepped onto the carpet, and she crossed the threshold. Her chest rose and fell with every labored breath. As she approached the bed, her body trembled like a leaf.

Reaching out a hand, he caressed the curve of her breast. The nipple reflexively tightened.

“Too light,” he remarked, recalling the distinct ruby shade of Lilias’s areolas. “They were the same red as her lips. Dark like pomegranate seeds. Sweet and tart.”

He pinched the tip of her breast, and her shoulders curled inward, her face strained under the sharp pain.

Cerberus released her flesh with a sharp tug and smirked. “Kneel. ”

Tears rushed to her eyes—brown rather than green—but she did as he commanded.

How many times had he fantasized of having her like this—cowering at his feet, eyes wet with fear, willing to do whatever he asked?

“I think I might have you drink my blood, princess.”

Her face paled as her breathing quickened. Humans had such pathetic tolerance for discomfort.

“You don’t like that idea?”

She shook her head.

He rolled his eyes. “Then distract me.”

She glanced about the room but quickly returned her attention to his body. Females of all species understood their role in nature when confronted by a beast. He missed the days when women knew their place. This one did.

She loosened his pants and quickly got to work. He cared little of her comfort and stuffed her mouth until her shoulders jerked.

“Stop trying to lead,” he ordered, fisting her hair.

Some mortals were not naturally submissive, but he found most of them quite teachable. Pain could be a powerful motivator, so any sign of resistance only increased his force.

“Do you think you can escape me now, Lilias?”

She whimpered in confusion, but he did not permit her to answer .

“Did you think I would let you get away with it?”

The rich scent of her fear swirled about the room like an intoxicating perfume. He lived to taunt them.

“You’re probably going to die tonight.”

Her breath hitched.

He could at least use her up before he fed. “I want you to fuck me like your life depends on it.”

She climbed on top of him, and tight heat sheathed his cock. She frantically rode him, her breathless performance unconvincing and annoying. If only every woman lied as well as Lilias.

“I’m losing interest,” he warned, and she quickened her speed, tits bouncing as the scent of chemicals on her hair made his nose twitch.

When she leaned forward to kiss him, he caught her throat. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Her brown eyes widened.

“ Answer me.”

“Kis-s-s-sing you?”

Fury exploded out of him and he snapped her neck with one sharp jerk. She fell to the floor in a heap of lifeless limbs, her eyes blindly staring up at him.

“Stupid cunt.”

Growling, he turned his focus to the window. His mind returned to Lilias, but he no longer wanted to think of her. “Fuck!” He slammed his fists into the wall, cracking the plaster. Seething, he shoved the television off the dresser, hating how she eternally lived in his head even when he no longer welcomed her there.

Staring down at her wide, emerald eyes, so trusting and seemingly innocent, she gently pulled at his vein. No matter how docile she appeared, he never underestimated her cunning sense of pride. Lilias would do anything to survive

“Your gown.” It had draped open while she fed, and he reached to cover her exposed flesh.

She caught his wrist in a delicate grip. “Do you not like to look at me, Cerberus?”

She knew he did. But it was not something they spoke of.

Tugging at the laces of the chemise, she pulled the covering lower, exposing the ruby tips of her breast.

“Lilias—”

“Feeding does something to me. I know you feel it, too.”

He swallowed. The sensation of her full mouth suckling from his vein was perhaps the greatest torture he knew, yet he fought the temptation to taste her for fear that he would not be able to stop once he started.

She reached for a small pot of liniment. Dipping her finger into the fruit-scented salve, she traced the pink gloss over her lips, darkening the color. He’d seen her use it before but only on her mouth. He could not look away as she applied a dab to her nipples, leaving the tips glossed in a tempting shade of red .

She slightly arched her back, lifting her chest. “Did you want to taste?”

His gaze jumped to her face. “I…” His words cut off as she gathered her skirts, exposing her lush thighs.

“Have you ever tasted a female, Cerberus?” Her fingers delved between her petals, and his fangs elongated as his breath hitched. “You have my permission.” She eased back, opening her legs. “Go on. Use your tongue.”

Insanity struck as he parted her thighs.

Her fingers swirled invitingly within the glistening pink folds, and the scent of the fruit gloss called to him. The first lap of his tongue had his mind whirling.

“That’s it.” She arched, pressing her soft folds closer to his mouth.

He speared his tongue deeper, drinking in her flavor as his cock hardened to steel. When he reached for the latch of his belt, she stilled him.

“First, you must kiss me here.” She pointed to her nipples. “I’ll show you how.”

Climbing onto his lap, she ran her fingers through his hair. He could hardly breathe through his lust.

“Suckle gently, Cerberus.” She pulled his head to her breast. “Don’t stop until I’m satisfied.”

“Yes, my queen.”

The familiar taste of fruit coated his tongue as he latched on. She moaned and stroked his hair. When the flavor faded, she directed him to her other nipple.

“Very good, walker. Now kiss me here.” She pointed to her mouth, but when he leaned forward, he lost his balance. His vision blurred as one Lilias became four .

“Something is amiss…”

“Shh…” Her fingers fanned through his hair, sending a tingle of pleasure down his spine as she eased him onto the bed. “Lie back.”

He looked up at her, confused. The candlelight blurred, forming a halo behind her copper curls. The recognizable clink of armor had him slowly turning his head to the door.

“Who…” Words became too difficult for his numb mouth to form. His body suddenly weighed a hundred stones.

“Is it working?” a male voice asked.

Lilias rose from the bed. “See for yourself.”

Rage ignited inside of him as the blurry figure of a man stepped beside her. Not a man, an immortal male. It was then he understood his mistake. “You…poisoned me?”

“It’s only temporary. You’ll sleep for a few days, and then you’ll be fine.”

“We need to move,” the armed immortal warned, already leading her toward the door.

“I’ll find you,” Cerberus growled, aggravated by how weak the threat sounded to his own ears as he lay paralyzed by the poison. “You have my blood ? —”

She pressed a finger over his lips. “By tomorrow, I’ll be bound to my mate, and his blood will be the only thing in my veins. It’s time to let me go, Cerberus.”

Impotent fury still simmered in the deepest part of Cerberus’s hollow heart. Unlike ordinary immortals, ancient Nords could not be called. His kind was born of the sea and sky with salt in their bones and the dragon's fire in their blood. Lilias’s species was of a different order, divined by the cosmos and ruled by the other half of her soul.

Cerberus had no soul.

Glancing dispassionately at the dead mortal on the floor, his lip curled. The corpse had already started to rot. He needed more durable toys.

Fanning out his senses, he scanned the surrounding areas for Adriel. Lilias had paid dearly for her betrayal, but now her daughter owed a debt of her own.

She was out there somewhere. Sooner or later, he would find her.