Seduced by the Beast Page 4

  Arion bowed deeply with respect and straightened. “I felt your call, my lord. What is it you wish of me?”

  Raphael stood and descended the wide steps to stand beside Arion. They were of an equal height and look, much as all the hunters were ... dark haired and animalistic, wild as the humans would say. Arion, unlike the elders now gone, had supported his rise as leader of the hunters. He trusted Arion as he would a brother. “The pack is restless. The scent of new prey drives them mad with the blood lust.” Their disquiet rippled through his mind. Violence and passion were easily read, and the growing danger disturbed him.

  Now that he’d had the woman, he could easily understand their provocation. Her scent clung to his skin, fueling his own lust. Already he hardened, thinking of driving into her again. He’d taken her once, and still his appetite was unsated. If anything, burying himself in her body only seemed to have magnified his desire tenfold. Angrily, he pushed the madness back, tempered it with resolve. Even to consider touching her again was beyond foolhardy. It was dangerous to both of them.

  Arion nodded. “Yes. They cannot help but be so driven.” He paused, looked his lord and master over as if weighing the wisdom of saying more. Finally, he said, “She cannot stay, else she will be devoured alive. Their restraint is not as it should be. I fear much blood will be spilled along our borders if e’er any cross.”

  Arion saw the root of any problem, much as he, himself. Raphael clasped Arion’s shoulder. It was more affection than hunters usually showed one another, but he and Arion had shared much in the past. And he was leaving a heavy burden for Arion to bear alone. Unfortunately, there was no alternative to the decision he had made. “I know. I leave the pack to you until my return. I trust you, Arion. Not merely as my second, but as a friend and brother.”

  Arion nodded once more, clasped Raphael’s arm in return. “It means much to me, old friend. I’ll not fail you. I will await your return.”

  Raphael dropped his arm and walked down the centerway with Arion at his side. Avonleigh lay just beyond the Northern border of Shadowmere. Although many leagues distant, it was still a land easily reached without overwhelming hardship. The night was young. However, they needed to begin their journey to Avonleigh soon if they expected to cross any measurable distance in the darkness that remained. He did not relish the trek or breaking the pact, but he’d made her a promise. He would see her home. “I expect to return before the waning of the red moon.”

  “That does not give you much time.”

  “No. And the vampires have awakened.” He’d sensed their presence before. It explained the unexpected bloodlust he had experienced during the kharez, and the sudden unruliness of the hunters. Once the vampires had sought to rule their creation, the hunters, but they had been gone many decades and the hunters had adapted to freedom. Still, their ties to their creators were strong and difficult to resist. He wondered how long it would take for the vampires to find them. They had never recognized any law but their own--for that they would be eradicated eventually.

  Arion tensed beside him, surprised at the news. “Ill portent. Will you not take guard?”

  Taking his men into human lands would only provoke a war. It was the last thing they needed now. He liked not the thought of traveling Shadowmere with a woman so tempting to predators, but he had little choice. He could not fight their own great numbers and still protect her from outside forces. The woman had nearly been killed by trusting his hunters before when he should not have. “No. If fate chooses our deaths, so be it. But I will not knowingly bring trouble. The bloodlust has risen with the rise of the vampires. I dare not trust our own with her.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  After he’d called the hunters and announced that Arion would oversee the pack while he was away, Raphael returned to Swan. Silently, he set the tray of food he bore on a table just inside the door, watching her.

  She sat looking out the window, the glow of the moon limning her form. She’d not noticed his return, and he stopped in the shadow of the doorway to study her. Dressed in the loose flowing gown he’d appropriated, she appeared far lusher and exotic and at the same time more innocent than he remembered. The deep red light pouring through the window limned her dark face, highlighting her breasts that caught his gaze even at the distance. Leisurely, he traced her profile with his gaze, settling on her full lips--a tight mouth he ached to feel wrapped around his engorged member. His groin tightened painfully at the thought, and he angrily tempered the burgeoning lust.

  Now was not the time.

  He crossed the threshold, stepping from the cloaking shadows and catching her notice. She gasped in surprise at his entrance, a hand flying to her chest. Holding her brown gaze with his own, he moved forward and helped her rise from the low seat. She ducked her head under his scrutiny but grudgingly accepted his help. Once on her feet, however, she snatched her hand from his grasp as though bitten.

  She looked him over, frowning. “You removed much of your silver. Why?”

  He’d kept only the arm braces and the circlet of his rank. “I won’t need them for the journey.” They could only be a hindrance.

  “My own garment is hardly suitable for everyday wear, let alone travel. Have you nothing more I might wear that would be less….” She hesitated, pulling the edges of the neckline closer, nudging the deep armholes wide and exposing the sides of her breasts to his view. “Revealing?”

  “I’m afraid not. Many here do not wear garments at all. Those of us that do must be able to strip it loose quickly for shifting. You are fortunate I was able to procure you a gown at all.” It was only a slight fabrication, he mused. The women always enjoyed adorning their bodies with fabric, jewels, and metals--none went completely nude as the men wished.

  “I thank you, then, my lord.” Nervous, she smoothed her gown. The motion drew his gaze. He followed her hands as they molded the fabric of the gown against her ample curves.

  She was strangely subdued, but the quick flash of her eyes as he met her gaze once more told him that it was a mere facade. A tempest brewed under that calm surface--one that would likely kill him if he turned his back.

  “Though I much prefer the ... alternative, you are most welcome,” he said silkily.

  Doubtless she knew not how inviting her subtle actions, how it increased the blood flooding his groin ... else she would cease her movements and hold still. If anything, clothed as she was, her charms were only enhanced. He had yet to feast his eyes fully on her nakedness--not to the degree he would have liked at any rate. Would that he had the time to simply look on her charms for as long as he willed.

  At the look in his eyes, Swan felt her body heat with remembrance, at her own boldness and attempts at seduction. And the way her efforts backfired on her. If one could consider the lustful passion and ecstasy she’d felt remorseful.

  She tried to quell both the memories and her reaction to them, and to him, and yet she couldn’t help staring at him, allowing her gaze to roam down his chiseled form to the bulge cloaked by his brown kurt. He had been inside her, when she’d allowed no man to touch her in many years.

  But then, she reminded herself, she’d not allowed Raphael. He’d taken, without exactly gaining her permission. She hadn’t told him no, for she knew she was at fault arousing him to that point. She also didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that she’d enjoyed it. Pride demanded she remain aloof an unwilling to concede her defeat.

  Realizing she was staring at his manhood, Swan glanced quickly at his face--wondering if he’d been aware of her assessing gaze. The perfection of his form made it difficult to conceive that he was in truth, a beast, and yet the look in his eyes could leave no doubt an animal lurked inside. Nor could his actions of before. Only a manbeast would dare to force her without the slightest guilt over his actions. If she was in her own world, she’d have punished him, but here, she tread on dangerous ground and was at his mercy.

  How it rankled.

  Privately, she could excuse him—she kne
w very well that she’d pushed too far to withdraw gracefully. She could excuse herself and say she had not meant to, that she’d been caught up in her own game, but that did not change the fact that she had provoked what had happened between them.

  Regardless of her own culpability, she was appalled at her continued response to him after what had passed between them, disturbed that his nearness alone could provoke a heated response from her.

  The crooked smile on his full lips answered the question that he’d noticed her perusal, but it vanished as he followed suit, examining her with equal interest. As his dark gaze moved over her lingeringly, she had the conviction that he’d missed no detail of her appearance; from her tousled honey brown hair curling over her nude shoulders and near bared breasts, down to the length of her legs exposed by the deep slits up the side of the gown.

  An answering heat swarmed her form under that deliberate, sweeping stare, and she reminded of what he’d done to her and the desire that left her sex moist with want.

  “Do you like what you see?” Swan asked belligerently, determined to quash any burgeoning feelings she might have.

  “Is that an invitation?” Raphael smiled and moved closer.

  Swan took a step back before she realized it. “No, it is not. You’ve had as much of me as I am willing to give.” More than I was willing, she thought.

  She clutched the edges of her neckline together and held one hand up as warning to come no closer. He stopped, his chest inches from her fingertips, near enough she could feel the heat from his body.

  His eyes narrowed. “Do not make idle promises you cannot keep, my lady. Think you I failed to notice your response to my touch? You may lie with your lips, but your body betrays you.” He indicated her death grip on her clothing. “Think you I will rip your gown away?”

  Swan straightened but did not relax her hold. “I would not be surprised if you did. You’ve already demonstrated a certain lack of control.”

  His brows drew down in his anger. “I don’t make a habit of ravishing women.”

  “You’ve done so. Twice. Today and the night before.”

  He chuckled and rubbed a thumb along the stubble lining his jaw. “So you remember that time as well?” His voice dropped by a finite degree. “Do you remember ... everything? How you begged for more?”

  Swan blushed. “You’re lying.” The dream she’d awakened to, urging him on, had she really done that? The fever had been brought on by magic. There was no telling what she could have done.

  “I would not lie of such a thing, not a woman’s sweet entreaty for pleasure.”

  The suggestiveness of his voice caused heat to flare along her nerves. Swan swallowed, her throat gone dry. His words evoked an erotic image in her mind, of lips and teeth, sucking, nipping, driving her to the edge. In all truth, she could not remember all he had done, nor how much she had encouraged him. Had she truly begged for his caress?

  He’d held back before. She was certain of that. Some shred of honor had restrained him. It was not until she’d tempted him that he’d broken control. She would never allow that to happen again—tempting the beast, he’d called it.

  “Would you like me to refresh your memory?” He moved forward until her palm was pressed flat against the hard plane of his chest. “I healed you with the touch of my hand.”

  Slowly, holding her gaze with his own, he stroked a finger up her arm, igniting a riot of sensation to rivet through her nerves. A strange weakness pervaded her senses, making her knees feel like jelly.

  Swan shook her head vigorously. “Never touch me that way again. I would rather die.”

  “Are you so certain?” He continued his slow, lingering stroke, drawing it across her collarbone. “I think your will wavers....”

  “Please do not begin this,” she whispered with a shudder.

  Something in her eyes halted Raphael’s advance as her words could not. “You are afraid.”

  Frowning, he withdrew his hand from her. She thought he would say something more, but after studying her for several long moments, he turned away. “Very well. We have too little time, in any case, to properly pursue the matter. For the moment, it would behoove you to explain the circumstances surrounding your arrival in Shadowmere. Come, I have gathered food for you. Explain to me as you eat.” He gestured toward a low standing table near the room’s entrance that she had not noticed before.

  Swan regarded him warily, not certain she trusted the reprieve. Had he hated bedding a human as much as she did a beastman? Their species were too different to coexist. It was inevitable that they would hate one another. The thought sickened her, inexplicably.

  Perhaps he respected her enough to obey her wishes? Was that possible? Was he not wholly a savage as she’d been led to believe her whole life?

  Disturbed by the direction of her thoughts and her reaction to it, she changed the subject abruptly, forcing a light tone to her voice. “Surely such a task as this is too menial for the lord of the hunters?”

  He was silent a long moment. “It is best for now if I see to your needs. Now, before I take you to your homeland--”

  Swan gaped at him, so stunned by what he had planned that it took her several moments to react. “No! I cannot go back there, not as I am, not with him there! He would kill me on sight were I to return.”

  Raphael bade her sit on the bed’s edge. Standing with legs braced apart, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’d best explain.”

  He’d promised to help her. As uncomfortable as it made her to tell the whole, sordid tale, and the blind naiveté that had led her to such a pass, she couldn’t expect him to walk blindly into danger.

  She thought it over for several moments, but decided she must begin at the beginning of her troubles. “I came to rule Avonleigh at a young age. I would by far have preferred the lives of my parents to the power that was my birthright and my responsibility, however. Other than my younger sister, I had no one, certainly no one to guide me. Morvere, my father’s sorcerer, seemed… an ally, a man I could trust to advise me. He was always there for me over the years.

  I knew not that he craved our lands ... and me in his bed.”

  She shivered in revulsion, toying with the cheese she’d taken from her plate before continuing. “Finally, he revealed his lusts to me. When I refused his advances, he cast a changeling spell upon me, taking my finger as his prize to clip my wing.”

  Uncomfortable with the admission, she found herself unable to meet Raphael’s gaze. “Morvere has a malicious humor. By day, I am cursed to be a swan, as my namesake. By night I return to my human form. I believe he expected me to die by sending me here. I have only scattered memories when I’m transformed. More than anything, the helplessness, of not being able to fly strikes me most.”

  Strangely, she found when she had finished that it was a relief to have someone to talk to, to finally have the sordid mess out in the open. For some reason, she did not feel so hopeless now, having told him.

  “I sense you’ve not told me everything,” Raphael said quietly.

  “No, I have not. I told the truth before, in the woods. I knew not how I came to be here. Morvere is powerful, more so than I ever imagined. Some spell transported me here ... to die....”

  Raphael studied her for a long moment, as if searching for the truth in her eyes. Finally, he turned away, pacing the room, deeply in thought. Swan watched him, hopeful, unnerved also that a solution had not immediately presented itself to him.

  “If what you say is true,” he said at last, “I must consider another possibility, rather than taking you directly to Avonleigh.”

  Swan nodded, feeling relief seep through her. “What is that?”

  “Magic can only be fought by magic. I know of a mage who may have answers for you. Have you finished eating?”

  She looked down at her nearly full plate in some surprise. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “You could lose more than that before we are done. Come, follow me.” He strode toward
the door, but her voice stopped him.

  “Can I trust you?”

  “Can you afford not to?”

  * * * *

  They packed light, for travel was harsh if overburdened, and her change with the day almost certainly slowed their progress. He had planned for that, however. One basket held their provisions and space enough for their garments, the other was empty. Raphael did not inform Swan that it would be for her when she shifted. Likely it would disturb her knowing he planned to cage her, but even dumb animals recognized predators when near, and he could take no chance she would harm herself while she was trapped in the form of a bird.

  It seemed no one took note of their departure from Barakus. From what Swan could see, the castle, built into the ground and foothills, was empty. True, she had only been there a short time, but she had seen no one else, not even so much as a servant, nor heard anything but the haunting call of wolves in the distance.

  Regardless, she had the eerie sense of hungry eyes following her every move as they set out, watchful but unseen.

  She was glad to be going from this place and wondered how he could stand it. But then, the beastmen were his own kind. She could never adjust to such a place, could not imagine ever wanting to. It was alien, brutal. Her place was with her people, her sister, who even now was in grave danger.

  She was more than a little dismayed to discover that the common mode of travel, when magic was not used, and what was expected of her now, was running. This might well be easy enough for those accustomed, but she was unused to the constant physical exertion she’d been subjected to since arriving. Riding horseback kept her muscles lithe, but she was a ruler, not an athlete.

  Unfortunately, due to the nature of predators, there were no common beasts of burden willing to carry beastmen and, that being the case, none were available for her use.