Her body caught fire, and she struggled to take more of him. He fit his hips more below her, and then he was inside of her, thrusting and bucking wildly. They moaned and sighed with each thrust and swallow. She worried she was being a glutton, but when she tried to pull away, his hand fisted in her hair and held her to him. “More,” he demanded as he pumped his hips.
Her body bounced over his, but he held her to him. She drank until she felt drunk. His blood was intoxicating. Wild and earthy and so incredibly Cain.
“Lick it shut,” he said, and she took her time cleaning his chest.
When she finished, she sat up, and he rapidly thrust into her. His fingers would likely leave small purple impressions on her hips. She liked the idea of him marking her.
She came the moment before he did. Waves of pleasure touched places she had never felt before. The world seemed a little brighter, the edges a bit crisper. Her skin was alive. Everything was alive. It was as if she could feel her hair and nails growing if she focused hard enough.
She let out one final sob of pleasure and collapsed onto Cain. He held and kissed her, in no rush to withdraw his body from hers.
“Did you like it?” he whispered.
“Mm-hmm,” she agreed tiredly. Her adrenaline had peaked to levels so high, the crash was twice as steep. She needed to rest, just for a minute.
* * * *
Cain watched Destiny come awake. She had only slept for about an hour, but he had looked at her the entire time. It fascinated him, witnessing her hair become a shade glossier and her cheek bones a bit more defined. The changes in her were so subtle, others would never notice, but he did.
She moaned and stretched. Opening her dark eyes he saw that they were still the same shade of onyx.
“Am I different?” she asked and scurried out of bed.
She went to the mirror and came up short.
“I look the same. I’m supposed to be skinny.”
He sighed. “You are skinny.”
“Not according to American standards.”
She turned, giving him and the mirror a shot of her body’s profile. She pressed her palms into her hips then lifted her breasts.
“I didn’t change,” she complained.
“Thank God for that,” he said. “Destiny, I have told you again and again that you are beautiful, just the way you are. Stop rating yourself by English standards. You are perfect. Leave it alone.”
She huffed and released her breasts. “I guess these are a little higher and my hair does look good. I wonder if I will even have to put product in it anymore.”
“I like your hair the way it is. Stop dissecting yourself and come back to bed.”
She smiled seductively and jumped back under the covers. They made love so many times that he lost count. Sometimes they took each other fast, a collision of bodies and need, and sometimes they moved slowly, just a leisurely entrance and lingering thrusts to remind them they were connected.
“Will you marry me, Destiny?”
“I already told you yes.” She laughed.
“How many children do you want?”
She tilted her head and thought for a moment as he teased her nipples and slowly thrust into her. “I suppose since we have eternity, I’d like a few every century. Do we have to name our first born Adam?”
“Goodness no!” He thought for a moment. “But I do think Annalise is a pretty name.”
Her gaze lowered. “Did you love her?”
“Never the way I love you. Nothing compares to what you make me feel. Annalise is a friend. I love her because she is my sister and she defended me when everyone else turned their backs on me. I think she saved my life, just as much as I saved hers.”
“Then I think Annalise would be a proud name for our daughter to bear.”
He turned and toppled her soft body to the bed. Kissing every curve and loving every inch of her, he took her to a place where only Portuguese thoughts spilled past her lips, laced with words of love. He would learn her language and someday teach her Pennsylvania Dutch as well.
Cain had never recalled feeling so at peace with himself. She was his. She was his, and he would have her for all eawichkeit. Nobody would ever take away his Destiny again.
Epilogue
Dane frowned and shut his book at the sound of shouting. Whatever it was, Cybil heard it, too. She jumped to the bars of her cell and shook them violently. Plaster fell from the ceiling, and a deep growl purred from the back of her throat.
Her eyes flashed, and she bared her fangs at him. The ruckus coming from the hall drew closer, and Cybil hissed. The closer whoever was coming, the more agitated his sister became.
Male voices carried. Tension filled the air. Dane stood, preparing for whatever was coming. A roar of shouting came the moment the heavy door to the holding area was pressed open.
Cybil stilled. Dane was distracted by her sudden about-face. She dropped from the bars, and all the tension of her face eased. Her head slowly cocked as she appeared to listen to the pandemonium coming their way.
Dane turned and saw several large males struggling to drag someone in. They were members of The Order, but their clothing was wrinkled. They were without hats, and their faces needed a shave. Dane stepped back as someone yelled for him to get out of the way. He dragged his chair against the back wall so they could pass.
An awful hiss broke from some sort of animal, and then he recognized the beast in their arms. It was the thing that had killed his mother.
Dane stood, frozen against the back wall, a child in front of the boogeyman once more, as the men fought to subdue the vicious creature and protect themselves from the lash of his claws and the snap of his jaw. The thing was filthy. His hair was matted with leaves and mud.
Dane turned and spied Ezekiel standing far back at the door from which they entered. This was his brother, and he would be the male to kill him once and for all. Dane wished he had the courage to kill the bastard.
He thought of his mother and a sickening sadness filled him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to go to Grace.
He did nothing.
As Isaiah twisted, completely mad, and bit down into one large male’s arm, the group nearly lost hold of him. Dane flinched. There were close to a dozen men, and Isaiah seemed to be stronger than them all.
Like a rabid animal, he twisted and snapped, foam forming in his beard. Ezekiel shook his head and left. Dane didn’t blame him. He knew what it was like to watch a once-loved sibling go insane.
The men dragged him closer as he fought and then everything suddenly went silent. Isaiah’s body went lax, and the men practically stumbled at the sudden jolt of strength. It was like a tug-of-war when one team suddenly lets go.
Isaiah’s eyes shut, and his chin lifted as if he were scenting the air. All aggression cleared from his face.
Like a puppet directed to the beat of a peaceful symphony, his neck twisted. His eyes opened and focused on Cybil. She wasn’t moving. Her bloodred eyes scowled back at him, and her jaw appeared so clenched Dane wondered how her teeth weren’t breaking. There was nothing soft left in his sister.
The men quickly took advantage of the calm and hurried the monster into the cell beside Cybil. The door slammed with a crash and the twelve men all took a moment to catch their breath.
It was as if they didn’t even see Dane. Their smell was ungodly, and it occurred to him they must have been in the woods with little opportunity to bathe all this time. He was blown away that they had actually caught the long-lost brother of Ezekiel.
They left the holding area as quickly and determinedly as they came. Dane had to catch his breath just from witnessing the struggle.
Nervously, he glanced at Isaiah. The thing panted and stared at him, blood staining his one fang and his eyes so darkly red they looked the color of molasses.
He looked at the locked door then back at the creature and jutted out his chin.
“You’re going to die, and I’m going to watch,” Dane
promised.
Isaiah suddenly turned and faced Dane’s sister’s cell. A sharp stab of fear knifed through him. Did the thing understand him? Was he going to punish him for his vow by going after his sister?
“Don’t you look at her!” Dane shouted.
Silently as a phantom, Cybil’s narrow fingers curled around the bar nearest Isaiah’s cell, slowly, from pinky to thumb. Her eyes were unfocused and clouded.
She had never looked more touched in the head.
Dane had become accustomed to her silence and the frequent growls since her accident, but that wasn’t what she was doing now. She wasn’t purring either.
No. She was humming, each note coming out long and sort of haunting, like a child dancing a doll along a lawn, her mind lost in another place and time. There was nothing charming about the slow, sweet humming tune coming from his sister. Rather, he found it incredibly unsettling. He frowned, and chills raced up his arms.
She pressed her face between the bars, her body loose and youthful, but disturbing all the same. Her eyes were unfocused as her cheek caressed the bar like one trailing a flower upon her cheek.
Her lips curved, and her chin lowered. Her gaze grew focused.
Her neck slowly turned, her head rotating toward the other vampyre.
Her mouth went soft, but her gaze was completely insincere. Then the evilness of her expression shifted the way a kidnapper tricks an innocent child into believing they’re safe, but she could not hide her madness from him.
Something malevolent flashed in her eyes and then his possessed, mute little sister turned and whispered, “Isaiahhhhhh.”
THE END
WWW.LYDIAMICHAELS.ORG
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
A
Abedit- appetite
Aesel- jackass
Ainsicht- only one
B
Blabbermaul- talkative
Bredder- brother
Brederlich- brotherly
Buss- kiss
C-D
Dobbich- awkward
Dormlich- dizzy; vertigo
Dummkup- idiot; dumb (also referred to as glutzkupp)
E
Eawichkeit- eternity
F
Fahoongart- starved
Feeish- beastly; animal like; the condition suffered by a called vampyre when he or she goes unanswered; a loss of ability to make rational choices; a severe loss of control
Ferhext- bewitched
Ferricked- deranged
Ferroonzeled- disheveled
Ferleicht- perhaps
Fershteckle- hide
Frau- wife
G
Gagrish- loud cry
Ganook- Enough!
Goedemiddag- good afternoon
Grex- grunt
H-J
Hesslich- hateful
Hongwarsth- mischievous youngster
K
Kenn- know
Kintish- childlike
L-M
Looshtich- jolly
N-O
Niddertrechticha- vile
Nochich- naked
P-Q
Plesseer- pleasure
R
Roontzel- wrinkle
Rootsh- crawl; squirm
Ruich- still
S-T
Schmecklich- luscious (as in kisses)
Shrecklich- frightful
U-Z
Unfershtendich- absurd
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lydia Michaels is an author of paranormal and contemporary erotic romance. She lives in Pennsylvania with her wonderfully supportive husband, beautiful daughter, and her two ridiculously spoiled dogs. After graduating college, Lydia married her childhood sweetheart and best friend then became a mother and quickly discovered her love for literature. The only hobby she enjoys more than reading exciting romance novels is writing them! If she is not off spending time with her family you can usually find Lydia at her computer working on her next story or hiding somewhere quiet with a great book. She loves taking a romantic plot with steamy chemistry and pushing the characters through an evolution of emotion by creating real-life challenges any hero or heroine worth their salt could overcome. She presses the bounds of love and surprises readers just when they think they have her stories figured out. Her books are intellectual, erotic, haunting, and always centered on love. For more information, please visit www.LydiaMichaels.org .
For all titles by Lydia Michaels, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/lydia-michaels
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Glossary of Terms
About the Author
Lydia Michaels, Destiny Calls
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