Love in the Fortress Read online

  She raced down the hall and out the north door leading through the fortress vegetable garden. She turned to the right and hurried along the path beside a row of tall hedges. A couple of Invictus wraiths streaked through the air, jeering as she ran, but she was safe from them. Margetta had strict rules about the slaves remaining unmolested. Any Invictus attempting to harm a slave would be killed.

  Even the most maniacal wraiths had sufficient self-preservation instincts to restrain their killing urges.

  The stables were two hundred yards from the house, a leftover from the era of horses. The stone out-building now housed several motorcycles and ATVs, imported from the States.

  She didn’t need to be told which room Griffin was in since a cluster of sparring warriors had gathered around the central door. They were all slaves captured at various times during Invictus raids from a number of the realms. Griffin, one of the most powerful mastyrs in the sparring line-up, was their unacknowledged leader.

  She pushed through the group and found Griffin stretched out on a table. Eyes closed, he writhed from the pain of the wound and several men worked hard to keep him pinned in place. But they struggled because the mastyr was so physically strong.

  His suffering pierced her heart.

  Two fae healers, both men who had slaved at the fortress for even longer than she had, worked on him. Each had their hands poised above two severe abdominal cuts. Vibrations of healing energy pulsed within the room.

  For a moment she stood transfixed, her gaze watching Griffin’s blood drip from the table to the stone floor beneath. The color was red and so very real.

  She’d seen many wounds over the years and occasionally assisted with the healing process. But her recently acknowledged feelings for Griffin threatened to overwhelm her.

  She forced herself to draw a deep breath. “I’m here. Tell me what to do.” The words left her mouth before she’d even formed the thought. Even with her knees feeling watery, she kept moving toward the table anyway.

  One of the fae looked back at her. “Thank you for coming, Mistress. We know you value Mastyr Griffin and we need your help. Can you calm him? He’s not in his right mind and we’ll be able to help him better if he doesn’t thrash so much.”

  “Of course.”

  She spent the next hour with her hands on top of Griffin’s head, letting her power flow into his mind and ease his pain. The more relaxed his body became, even in his semi-conscious state, the swifter his cuts began to heal.

  An hour wore on, then another. Progress, though slow, was steady, and gradually the wounds began to close.

  When most of the healing was done, he slowly opened his eyes. He blinked several times as though trying to make sense of where he was. Leaning close, she spoke quietly to him. She explained that he’d been hurt during sparring and he was now in the stables.

  He held her gaze, then pathed, You came. Thank you.

  Her heart swelled as she looked down at him. Affection swirled through her. Concentrate on your healing.

  Tell them you’ll take me back to the fortress to feed me.

  She stared at him for a moment. Did he really want her to feed him? But what surprised her more was how much she wanted to do exactly that.

  She nodded, then addressed the lead healer. “As soon as Griffin can walk, I’ll take him to the fortress and offer a vein. Would you agree this is the best course?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” the fae said. “Opening a vein for him would complete his healing.”

  The thought of giving her blood to Griffin, however, caused Sandra’s skin to grow warm and her heart to beat harder still. She put a hand to her chest. She felt very full as though her body was already preparing to take care of him. She’d never done this before and wondered if it was normal, to feel a supply building when you were about to feed a vampire?

  When Griffin was at last on his feet and felt strong enough to walk, she slid her arm around his waist. He still wore his leathers and thigh boots, but otherwise was bare-chested. Another wave of heat, full of forbidden desire, washed through her.

  She thought about her time in the fortress and how much her life had improved since Griffin had come. A year ago, she’d been lonely. But his presence in her life had changed all that.

  Certain ideas began to coalesce in her mind and she wondered if she had the courage to follow through. If caught, she would suffer at Margetta’s hands, but she wasn’t sure she cared right now.

  The kiss seemed to have made her willing to take risks she’d never considered before. That, and the fact she was hunting down a key and planning a crime for which she could lose her life if caught.

  As she thought about feeding Griffin, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. She just wasn’t sure if he’d go along with it.

  He pretended to lean on her as together they headed back to the fortress. You know this is just an excuse for me to touch you. Do you think anyone really believes you’re supporting me?

  Doesn’t matter. I like your arm around my shoulders. So, I hear it was Fulton again.

  Yes. Of course. And Margetta never punishes him so he feels free to do whatever he wants.

  Fulton had command of the most powerful sparring men in the camp, including Griffin. Fulton made no secret of despising Griffin. The problem was, Fulton was a more powerful mastyr than Griffin, which meant he always had the upper hand in any contest.

  Sandra knew Fulton would one day be bonded to a powerful female wraith and his abilities would allow him to defeat any ruling mastyr vampire. According to camp gossip, he wasn’t yet Invictus because Margetta was still hunting for an extremely powerful wraith for him. In Griffin’s opinion, Fulton, by nature was already Invictus. He enjoyed killing and took a psychopath’s pleasure in torture. If ever bonded, Sandra knew he’d make a fully evil adversary.

  If Griffin had been the more powerful mastyr, he would have been a threat to Fulton. But given his greater abilities, Fulton had happily taken Griffin to the point of death many times in the past.

  Griffin cleared his throat, then spoke aloud. “You don’t have to feed me.”

  Sandra grew very quiet, her thoughts tunneling inward. For a brief moment, she was back in the storage closet locked in his arms. She remembered the feel of his lips against hers, his body, every manly part of him.

  “I want to feed you.”

  Griffin had always used the slaves Margetta provided for the vampires, when his blood needs grew demanding. As a mastyr, he had to feed every night. He suffered, as all mastyrs did, with a form of chronic blood starvation no mattered how often they used their fangs. Essentially, he was in pain all the time.

  But as a mastyr, he was more powerful than any average vampire, one reason Margetta had wanted him to spar with her troops. He’d be the equal of any bonded Invictus male and more often than not superior to them. Sparring with him would make the Invictus warriors more effective in battle.

  Sandra knew this part of Griffin’s reality kept him in a guilt-ridden state. But she was also aware that he took pains not to demonstrate the most advanced skills he had as a Guardsman. In that way, he believed he protected his brothers-in-arms. It was also the reason he got wounded often during the one-on-one contests.

  Arriving at the end of the hedge, he guided her to the left, back through the extensive fortress garden. His hand caressed her waist, then moved slowly down to linger on her hip. When he dug his fingers in just a little, she gasped softly. It felt so good.

  He leaned close as he pathed, Don’t feel obligated to feed me. I can get one of the camp’s doneuses to take care of me.

  She met his gaze, and forced him to stop for a moment. With no one else around, she planted her hands on his chest, then pathed, I can’t let you do that, Griffin. Right now, you’re mine.

  I want to kiss you.

  And I want you to do a lot more than that right now. In fact, I’m counting on it.

  He held her gaze and she watched his eyes fall to half-mast. His summery field scent sharpened
so that she felt kicked at the back of her knees.

  Are you sure? he pathed.

  Absolutely.

  Where can we go?

  I have a place in mind where we won’t be disturbed.

  She put them both back in motion, only she moved more quickly this time. With things settled, she was anxious to be alone with him.

  Though she needed to find the duplicate key, right now she felt a strong urgency to feed Griffin. She wasn’t sure why, but nothing seemed more important. And right now, her heart felt laden, like it had been waiting all this time to provide him sustenance.

  Opening the door to the north fortress entrance, she headed swiftly down the hall for a few yards then took the servants’ stairs to the right.

  He followed after, but caught her hand a few steps up, forcing her to stop. I’m not allowed up here.

  She smiled and tugged his hand. You are just this once. Don’t worry; Margetta adores me and if we’re caught she’ll forgive me. She knows I’ve never taken a lover and believe me she’s suggested it about a thousand times.

  But it’s the women’s quarters.

  It’ll be all right. You’ll see. Besides, at this hour, all the slaves are helping out in the camp. It’s feeding time at the zoo, you know.

  He chuckled at the slang term for keeping the Invictus army fed. She laughed with him. But once she reached the second floor, she levitated, moving swiftly down the long central hall.

  He tracked with her, the powerful vampire that he was. Nice moves, fae-woman.

  Thank you.

  She took him straight to her bedroom, a small chamber housing a chest of drawers, a nightstand, and a double bed with an ornately carved oak headboard. Off to the left was her bathroom. On the windowsill was a vase of roses.

  “You have flowers in here.”

  “I do.” She closed the door quietly and turned the key in the lock, leaving it in the aperture. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, that she was alone with Griffin, in her room, intent on taking him to bed.

  ~ ~ ~

  For a long moment, Griffin stared at the flower arrangement sitting on the sill of Sandra’s bedroom window. She’d kept a piece of civilization with her, despite her slavery. In some ways, the flowers represented who she was, her beauty, her velvety complexion, her strength.

  “I should wash up,” he said, suddenly aware he had blood spatter all over him from his wounds.

  She crossed to the bathroom door and shoved it open. “One of the perks for being favored by the Ancient Fae. And please, take as long as you need.”

  There was a small shower in which he would barely fit. But after wrestling off his boots and leathers, he took his time scrubbing head to foot, even washing his hair. He’d fallen in the mud, letting the slide of his feet during the sparring session cover for his ongoing restraint.

  He’d been battling Fulton, who loved to show off, and thought he’d bought it as he fell. Fulton had sliced him through his organs almost to the spine, in two different places. Part of him hoped to hell the healers wouldn’t be able to fix him this time or Margetta, either. However, the healing team was well-motivated, death usually following the demise of any of their more important warriors. Margetta was unforgiving.

  With the last of the dirt down the drain, he shut off the water and stepped into the equally small bathroom. He dried off, getting as much water from his hair as he could.

  His thoughts strayed to Sandra, to how much he’d wanted this with her and for such a long. He would take it slow. She hadn’t been with a man in years and she was probably really nervous.

  Those thoughts, however, ramped him up instead of settling him down. His nostrils flared, because he would swear he could smell her soft herbal fragrance streaming into the bathroom, of rosemary and what he was now sure was sage.

  Yeah, he was out of his mind for her.

  But he also wanted to make this a good experience, so he worked at calming himself down.

  He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door. He even had a speech prepared for how he knew this might be unsettling for her, since she hadn’t been with a man in a long time.

  Instead, his mind grew full of nothing. Sandra clearly had ideas of her own. The bedding was gone except for a couple of pillows. She lay on her side completely naked, her arm across her stomach which gave him an excellent view of her full breasts, peaked in the cool air.

  She had a small thatch of red hair at the juncture of her thighs. Her creamy skin glowed against violet sheets.

  He realized he was standing mute in the doorway when she held her arms out for him. He lost the towel, letting it fall to the floor. She’d already felt his arousal and had some idea what he looked like. She might as well see everything.

  As he moved toward her, she lifted up on her elbow, her eyes flaring as her gaze fell to his chest, his abs, then lower to his groin. Seeing her had already started thickening him again.

  “Oh,” she whispered. Her lips moved, a sensual sight that had him wishing for things maybe he should keep to himself.

  But she made a come-to-me gesture with her hands, quick flips of her fingers, so he slid onto the bed and got close, rising up on his knees. That’s when he knew he was in real trouble. She had no inhibitions and as soon as his hips drew close, her hands were on him.

  “Come closer and feed me,” she whispered.

  He was pretty sure his eyes rolled in his head. And they definitely did when he felt her tongue lick a loop around the crown of his cock.

  He groaned heavily as she took him into her mouth.

  She pathed, We’ll need to keep things quiet.

  “Right.” He wasn’t sure how easy that was going to be.

  As she began to suck, she lifted her gaze to his and pathed, I have a confession to make, Griffin. I’ve thought of you this way so many times with my lips surrounding your cock.

  Fantasies?

  Yes, while I had my hands between my legs.

  He stroked her hair, running his fingers down her braid. I’ve been the same way. I’ve wanted you for months. His hips arched into her and she took him deeper into her mouth.

  When she sucked more aggressively, he restrained a moan. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. Thank you, Sandra.

  My pleasure. Truly.

  When he knew he was reaching a point-of-no-return, he pushed gently on her shoulders. It feels too good.

  She released his cock, smiling, then rolled onto her back. She looked so beautiful, her body undulating, her nipples in tight beads. As he shifted to stretch out on top of her, she spread her legs for him. He kissed her, settling his hips between.

  She moaned with pleasure, though keeping her voice quiet as her body moved beneath his. Her legs stroked his thighs; her hips arched.

  He drew back enough to look into her eyes. I’m so glad we’re doing this.

  Me, too.

  He reached down and took his cock in hand, guiding himself into her beautiful wetness. Her fresh rosemary-sage scent filled in the air. Did she wear a perfume, which seemed unlikely given none of the women had access to anything like cosmetics? Whatever it was, his desire for her sharpened because of the way she smelled. He loved it.

  He began to push and with each roll of his hips, her body arched, drawing him deeper inside. Her hands worked his arms, squeezing his muscles so of course he flexed for her.

  She gasped in response. Her parted lips were an invitation and he crashed down on her, kissing her again.

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs hugging his hips. He moved faster now, a steady rhythm that kept her moans flowing softly.

  However, he felt an unfamiliar vibration deep within his body.

  What is that? she pathed.

  He drew back, his hips slowing. You can feel the vibration?

  Yes, and it has the most erotic and beautiful quality to it, as though it represents all that you are.

  Her sudden intake of breath had him asking, What? You know what i
t is, don’t you?

  She nodded. Griffin, I’m pretty sure it’s your mating vibration. I can feel my own now as well.

  Of course. His mating vibration. He’d never accessed it before since he’d never had the kind of relationship with a woman where he’d wanted to engage in that way.

  But with Sandra, it felt right and erotic as hell. I want to touch yours. Will you allow it?

  ~ ~ ~

  Sandra didn’t answer right away. They’d drifted suddenly and without warning into deep waters. Though she knew him well from all their conversations, their situation had hardly allowed for real dating. She didn’t, therefore, know him at all on an intimate level. She’d been mate-bonded to her fae husband and it had been an incredibly beautiful experience, something many married couples chose to do.

  So for Griffin to ask to touch her mating vibration was significant. Yet their situation was extraordinary, their relationship untried.

  But as she looked into his blue eyes, always so intense, she knew she wanted nothing more. Do it, she pathed. I want to feel you in this way, no matter what the future holds.

  Of course, exploring each other’s vibrations wasn’t a bond, just a sweet delight that could add to the pleasures of sex. Though, if they weren’t careful, it could lead to an unexpected joining.

  While his cock thrust in and out, she felt his mating vibration strengthen. By practice, she opened to him and his erotic frequency slipped inside her body, covering her own sensual waves of mating energy.

  He started to groan, a rough sound that made her touch his lips with her fingers. “Shhh … ”

  He smiled. Sorry. Couldn’t help myself because this is unbelievable. So much more than I expected.

  It’s wonderful. She lifted her hips slightly then curled her pelvis, something that helped her feel his cock as he drove deeper. It felt so good to be making love with him.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the abundant sensations, not knowing how this much pleasure had suddenly come to her in Margetta’s fortress.