She sobbed with pleasure as he moved deep within her, caught up in the wonder and the magic that sparked between them, bound by the passion between them, bound by the night.
Breathless, she clung to him as pleasure exploded deep within her, cried his name when she felt him withdrawing.
“I love you,” he murmured, his voice fading. “I will always love you.”
She woke naked and alone in her bed, her cheeks damp with tears.
The woman the drone brought him the next night was in her late twenties. There was no fear in her eyes when Drake took her in his arms, only a kind of weary resignation that twisted like a knife in his gut, flaying him with guilt and regret for what he was, for the need that would not be denied.
He bent her back over his arm, his hand sweeping her hair to the side as he lowered his head to her neck. He took what he wanted with uncharacteristic roughness, and sent her away.
When she was gone, he wrapped his hands around the bars and rested his forehead against the cold steel, grateful that Elena would soon be gone from this place, a place that he hated with every fiber of his being.
Chapter 19
Katiya stood in the middle of her chamber, one foot tapping impatiently as her mother and Liliana fussed over her gown and her hair. She did not want to be there, did not want to marry Rodin’s oldest son. She had tried both anger and tears, but, for the first time in her life, her sire had turned a deaf ear to both.
Even her mother had refused to be swayed. “We do not marry for love,” Stefanya had replied, her patience quickly coming to an end. “You have a duty to our people to produce as many offspring as you can, while you can.”
Katiya heaved a sigh as Liliana and Stefanya stepped back to admire their handiwork. There were no mirrors in the room, but she could see herself reflected in her mother’s eyes. The dress, of fine burgundy silk and satin, was exquisite. They had piled her hair atop her head, leaving several ringlets to fall artfully over her bare shoulders.
What would Lord Drake think when he saw her? Not that she cared. She wanted nothing to do with him, or his family, or this impending wedding. She didn’t want to live in the Fortress, or—she shivered with revulsion—share Drake’s bed.
“You look lovely,” Liliana said, smiling.
“Thank you,” Katiya muttered. “How long do I have to spend with Drake?”
“Katiya!”
“It is quite all right, Stefanya,” Liliana said. “I think we all know that Drake is also opposed to this match.”
“Then why must we go through with it?” Katiya exclaimed. “Why must I do this? It is so unfair! I will not even be his first wife!”
“Life is often unfair,” Stefanya said calmly. “This will not be the last time you are required to do something you find unpleasant.”
“I hate you!” Katiya cried. “I hate all of you!”
The sound of Stefanya’s hand striking her daughter’s cheek echoed like thunder in the room. “Enough!”
Tears welled in Katiya’s eyes and trailed down her cheeks like drops of scarlet rain.
“It is time,” Stefanya said. Turning, she opened the door and left the room.
“None of us marry for love,” Liliana said quietly. “We do what we must do. You may not love my son, but you will love your children for as long as they let you.”
Drake paced the drawing room floor, his strides long and impatient. His future bride was late, adding to his irritation. The sooner she arrived, the sooner they could get on with this farce.
Rodin turned away from the window. “I would remind you that Elena’s well-being depends on your behavior this evening.”
“You have made that abundantly clear.”
Rodin nodded. “See that you do not forget it.” He lifted his head, sniffing the air, then strode toward the door. “Your bride is on her way.”
Rodin had no sooner left the room than the door opened again and Katiya glided into the room, a pout on her pretty face. She closed the door behind her, then stood there, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Good evening,” Drake murmured.
She inclined her head, acknowledging his greeting.
Mindful that his father could overhear everything that was said if he so desired, Drake forced a smile into his voice. “Would you care for a glass of wine?”
“Yes, thank you,” she replied, her voice carefully polite.
“Please, sit down,” Drake invited, gesturing at one of the green-and-beige striped silk settees.
He scowled as he moved toward a table that held a variety of crystal decanters and goblets of varying sizes. How long was he supposed to entertain this stranger and what the hell were they going to talk about until he could escort her back to her apartment?
He filled two glasses. Then, schooling his features into a more pleasant expression, he carried them across the room and offered her one.
She took it with a murmured thank you.
Blowing out a sigh, Drake sat beside her. She was beautiful, of that there was no doubt. He supposed he should be grateful for her comeliness, if nothing else.
“So,” he said, “how soon are we to wed?”
“Never, if I could have my way,” she replied candidly.
Drake stared at her. “You do not want this?”
“No!”
He sat back, his legs comfortably stretched out in front of him as he mulled her response.
“I have no wish to marry a stranger,” she said, and he heard the tears in her voice. “I know it is our way, for men and women to mate when the man is of age and the woman is fertile. I know such matches are arranged between families”—she sniffed loudly—“but I have read of other ways to choose one’s mate.”
“Indeed?” Drake asked, intrigued by her comment.
“Yes! There are places where people are allowed to marry for love.”
“I fear that thought is akin to treason,” he muttered. Vampire marriages were arranged much like those of royalty in ancient times, mainly to unite families or ensure continued peace between rivals.
Katiya met his gaze for the first time. “You were married before, to that mortal woman. Did you love her?”
“I will always love her,” Drake replied quietly, and then he grunted softly. “You are also in love with someone else, are you not?”
“Yes.” Her chin lifted defiantly. “Your brother, Andrei.”
Andrei! Drake shook his head. He’d had no idea.
“You did not know?” Katiya asked.