In the Service of the King
Kael pulled back and rested his forehead against the bridge of her nose. Then he met her gaze again. “You must understand, though, my dearest heart,” he began in a strained voice. “I could never expose you to the kind of danger that took Meara from me. My intention would never be to stifle your dreams or impose my will as if…”
She lifted an eyebrow. “As if you were my king?”
One side of his full lips quirked up. “Is it wrong that I like the sound of that?”
The heat of a blush warmed Shayla’s cheeks. Truth be told, she did, too. “No, as long as you don’t think it’s going to get you your way in everything.”
“Sometimes, though?” His fingers made slow, teasing drags up and down her spine, igniting delicious shivers and chills.
She grinned. “Maybe.”
“Maybe.” He threw his head back and laughed. His expression grew serious again. “I only mean to say, I understand your need, Shayla, but I could never tolerate you out there…exposed…fighting.” He grimaced at the words. “My warriors are many, strong, well-trained. They will fight for you. As will I.”
His words were a promise, fierce and true and utterly male. She knew he was right about the fighting, but her heart ached at the idea there wasn’t something she could do. “I know, but, isn’t there anything, anything at all—“
“Of course there is.” He crushed a lingering kiss against her mouth. “You can stand by me, and give me the strength to face the fight. You can advise me—I’ll never hide from you the difficulties we face. You can facilitate our relationship with the Electorate Council, and secure the alliance between vampires and humans. You can feed me, and make me strong. You can feed me, so, in turn, my warriors will feed more frequently, as they must, as they should’ve been doing all along. You can bear our children, and bring new warriors into the fight.”
So much passion imbued his words they brought tears to Shayla’s eyes. He made her believe she really could make a difference. For Dana. For herself. For him. “Oh, Kael.”
“And, another thing, I spoke with Simon while you were asleep. I wanted to assure him of your well-being, well, after earlier.” The lightest of blushes colored his cheeks. He shook his head. “I have learned you are quite a scholar, Shayla, of the history, culture, and languages of the British Isles, of the Celtic people in particular.”
She was almost embarrassed at the pride filling his voice. She hugged herself and nodded. “Yes. Though, how would mating impact my ability to finish my degree? Would I have to give it up?” The thought made her stomach flip-flop. On the one hand, he personally embodied the very history and culture that had fascinated her all these years. On the other, her twenty-first-century mindset balked at giving up her education and career to marry and have babies. Not that she didn’t want those things, for she truly did. And Kael’s words only bolstered that desire.
“Simon suggested the reminder of your studies might be doable through telecourses. We have archival collections and rare books here you could use for your research. Maybe you could even impose some order on our library, insure the records of my people are known among us and well preserved. And—” he twisted his lips and looked down “—we could send security along with you on any trips you might have to make to complete your degree.”
She wouldn’t have to give it up? Would long-distance course work even be possible? Would her program allow it? And, what might be in his records, documents surely no one had ever studied before? Questions fired through her brain and energized her with the idea there might be a way to have both, do both. “Kael. Thank you. Even if that can’t work out, just the fact you inquired about it, entertained the possibility.” She grasped the skin over her heart. “It means so much.”
“I’m pleased you are happy.” He tucked a thick strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture so full of caring. “So, does this mean…”
Only one other concern held her back from an enthusiastic acceptance. He said the mating bond pleased him, but would it ever be more than that? Would he ever love her? Could she ever replace the love he must’ve felt for Meara? A warm fullness in her chest told her she was falling for him, maybe had fallen for him already—after all, she’d had years of imagining them together. Having met him, she now knew that his beauty, his gentleness, his fierceness, his playfulness, his power—they comprised the real man, not just fantasy. But she wanted him to want her for her, to ask her to be his. She rubbed her hands together and studied the stunning, intricate markings. She wanted it to be more than just some…mystical…biology that drew them together.
Kael let out a deep sigh and gently moved her off his lap. He rose and cleared the tray from the bed. Then he turned to her. “This is a lot to take in. And I’m sure the pressure of the deadline is difficult. I will prepare an apartment for you. Anything you need will be provided—“
“Wait. What? Why?” She scooted herself until she was sitting on the edge. Though she was entirely comfortable being nude in front of him, the air was chilly against her tired body. She pulled the robes up over her lap again and tucked them under her arms to cover her chest.
“I need you to be close until you’ve made your decision. I cannot send the woman who may be my mate out into the world unprotected. But I don’t wish to pressure you any more than necessary, so I will give you your own—“
“I can’t be with you?” Shayla didn’t know the protocol. No part of her training had covered this amazing possibility. But didn’t the mark mean they were to be together?
Kael’s mouth dropped open and his eyes flared. His cock stirred the silk of his robe “What are you asking, Shayla?”
She shook her head and pushed off the bed, then situated the robes around her shoulders. Kael hummed at the sight and the sound connected with every nerve in her body. “I guess—” she inhaled a bolstering breath “—well, I’m…not asking anything.”
“I do not understand.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Please, dear heart, do not torment me.”
Shayla smiled and held up her hand. “Is this just…chemistry? Biology?”
Kael frowned down at the pattern on his palm, then looked back to her eyes. He studied her for a long moment, then sank down to one knee and grasped her marked hand in his.
“Our mating is chemistry and biology. My body, my blood, needs you on a fundamental level. You. Your body brings me peace, comfort. Your blood restores my immortality and humanity. But I wanted you before this, Shayla. I brought you back because I knew, even then.” He held their joined hands to his heart. “You are more beautiful than my eyes can take in. Your eyes enchant me and hold me to you. You are brave and fierce and strong and bright and these are just the things I’ve learned in the few hours we’ve been able to share. I want to know more.”
Shayla bit down on her lip, trying to restrain the tears and joyous sob that threatened. Kael reached up and pulled her lip from her teeth with his thumb. He arched an eyebrow and she couldn’t hold in the laugh-cry that escaped.
“Be mine, love. Please.”
Love. Her heart exploded in her chest. “Yours? Forever?”
His smile was beatific. “If we’re lucky.”
She closed her eyes against his magnificent image and breathed deeply. Life flowed through her, and she knew at once it had led her to this moment, this man, this love. “Yes, Kael. My answer is yes.”
Chapter Eight
Kael paced his sleeping chamber, his bare feet sinking into the plush emerald carpet. He smiled. That was where the differences with the previous night ended. He could hardly believe only twenty-four hours had passed since he’d walked the length of this room cursing the Night of the Proffering.
Tonight, it was nerves that had him wearing a path into the thick pile. He and Shayla would be mated this night, in a little less than an hour. Anticipation threatened to explode him apart.
“Just an observation, my lord, but you have a big night ahead of you. Keep pacing like that and you’re likely to wear yourself out.”
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Kael halted and whirled on Liam, arms crossed and leaning against the wall by the door. The warrior’s smirk was good-natured, and Kael chuckled and shook his head. He’d nearly forgotten Liam’s presence in wondering what Shayla would look like. But as his second in command, he’d helped the king ready his clothing and adorn his body for the ritual. His garments all shared the deep crimson and gold of his clan crest, though the red was more significant for its reference to the blood that would bind him and Shayla together. The leather hugged his thighs, tormenting his already sensitive body. He couldn’t don the cloak, though, until the blood marking his skin fully dried.
In front of a mirror, Kael carefully fingered the red smears coloring the knot over his heart. He twisted his torso to see the marks on his arm and back, too.
Liam appeared in the mirror behind him. “Dry?”
Kael nodded, simply mesmerized by a sight he thought he’d never see again—the ancient symbols for fidelity, fertility, protection and eternity painted over his skin in his own royal blood.
They would serve as Shayla’s first tastes of him and fuel the blood hunger her mating mark would already have unleashed within her. A growl rumbled low in his chest at the thought.
Liam laid a hand on his shoulder, careful to avoid any of the marks, and squeezed. “I believe it is time, my brother. You don’t want to be late to your own mating.”
Kael nodded, emotion tightening his throat. He turned and faced Liam, whose eyes were alive with happiness and pride. “Thank you, old friend.”
“You deserve this, Kael. It has been far too long since I’ve last felt joy flowing through your blood. I am honored to stand up for you this night.”
Unable to respond, Kael clasped his grip around Liam’s forearm, who returned the ancient warrior handshake. “You are a good man, Liam.”
“Come. Let me help you with the cloak.” He released Kael’s arm and gestured to the bed.
Kael turned away and awaited the heavy fabric to fall upon his shoulders. Warmth surrounded him. He slipped his arms into the long, loose sleeves. The fine velvet was soft and thick, of the same deep crimson as his pants. Using the mirror again, Kael fastened the three ornate gold clips that held the cloak together over his chest.
Liam crossed the room to Kael’s dressing table, and eased open the lid on an antique carved wooden box sitting there. Liam lifted the crown, encrusted with the same jewels Kael wore in his hair, and returned to stand before him.
“Your crown, Your Highness.” Liam bowed his head and held the golden circle up in both hands.
Like the blood adorning his body, Kael had not expected to wear one of these again. As the sovereign, he had several crowns for different occasions. This mating crown had been made new, completed just a few hours before by the Warrior Ronan, who was also a skilled goldsmith. Kael settled the metal atop his head and adjusted it. “The hood, please,” Kael managed in a raspy voice.
“Yes.” Liam lifted the wide hood over Kael’s head, careful not to snag the pointed ornaments on his headdress or the jewels in his braid.
Now he was ready.
Together, the men made their way through the manor house to an older part of the underground compound. Once again, the halls were empty and candlelit. It seemed to take forever to arrive at their destination, but finally Liam was opening the arched doors to the Hall of the Chieftains, where the mating ritual took place for all who lived herein.
All eyes turned to Kael as he entered the room. Six clan warriors formed a circle around the center of the room, each standing at a marked symbol tiled into the floor—symbols that represented elements of the heraldic badge of Clan MacQuillan. The vampires present were his senior clan warriors, his oldest compatriots, the closest thing he had to a blood family. Indeed, he was tied to each of them by a blood connection.
Kael watched as Liam crossed to the far side of the room and disappeared through a similarly arched door.
Then Kael took his place at the center of the circle, dropped to one knee, and waited.
“I do believe it is time for you to be mated,” Ciara announced.
Shayla nodded and accepted the woman’s hand. With assistance, she rose from the seat in front of the ornate vanity where she had been readied for the ceremony. Nervous energy gripped her, but so too did something else. An urge she’d never before felt, and somehow knew would only be eased by Kael’s presence, flowed through her, held her muscles taut, resonated in an empty ache in her gut. She clenched and released her left hand.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling at Ciara and Maeve. The women had spent the day with her while the men assisted Kael, or at least that’s what she’d been told. Ciara and Maeve were warriors’ mates and great sources of information and reassurance for Shayla. Ciara was the mate of a warrior named Marcas, and though she appeared Shayla’s age, she’d been born in 1922. Even more stunning was Maeve, who was mated to Ronan and had been alive for three hundred years.
Shayla had taken an immediate liking to both of them. They’d helped prepare her for the mating ritual and surrounded her with friendship and sisterhood, easing the pang in her heart that no one from her family could share in the ceremony. Kael had explained the previous night that they would be notified and invited for a special wedding dinner soon.
She was the only human who could attend the mating ritual.
Ciara helped her put on the velvet cloak over the rich silk gown she wore. With its plunging V neck and thin lace straps, it was more lingerie than gown, but it was gorgeous, bejeweled with glittering beads along the neckline, empire waist and bottom hem.
“Lower your head,” Maeve said. Shayla stooped down and bowed her head. Maeve and Ciara lifted the cloak’s hood over the bridal circlet, careful not to muss the intricate braiding and bejeweling of her hair.
“Now, remember,” Ciara said with warm smile, “that should be the last time you bow your head to anyone, save your king. In an hour’s time, you will be queen.”
The very idea made Shayla’s head spin. Flustered, she tried to speak but no words came out. She didn’t know what to say. All three women fell together, laughing.
Finally, she calmed herself. “Well, my new friends, my future husband does not strike me as the most patient man. So, should we go?”
Ciara and Maeve led her through stone hallways where priceless art decorated the walls and sat atop pedestals. But Shayla’s need to see Kael was intense and she could not pay the pieces the attention they deserved. Forever seemed to pass in the time it took to arrive at the arched wooden door of the room they’d shown her earlier in the day. The Hall of the Chieftains.
Liam waited next to the door and offered her a warm smile when their eyes met.
“Liam will take you from here,” Ciara said, her expression affectionate.
Shayla nodded at her new friend and exchanged hugs with both women before they departed.
Liam turned to her and held out his left arm. “It would be my honor to escort you to your mate.”
Trembling, not out of fear but out of an urgency she could not fully explain, Shayla grasped Liam’s forearm with her unmarked hand. He opened the door and guided her forward.
Shayla’s gaze fell on Kael’s kneeling form and he was all she could see. The desire to run to him made it feel as if her insides were vibrating. She licked her lips and released a shaky breath. Her left hand tingled and she fisted against the maddening, arousing sensation.
Kael’s eyes glowed the brightest she’d ever seen. He was magnificent, regal, and more beautiful than she’d remembered after just a day’s painful separation. A fierce masculinity rolled off him and curled around her until she swore she could smell him, taste him, feel his touch on her skin.
Liam paused at the outside of the circle and dropped his arm.
And then Shayla stood before the man, the vampire, she knew without question owned her, heart and body.
They joined marked hands and she barely resisted crying out. She sucked in a sharp breath as
the most wondrous current of belonging shot through her—she simply didn’t know how else to describe it. By the trembling of his hand in hers, she knew Kael felt it, too.
She sank to her knees. They were so close her chest nearly touched his. Only their clasped hands separated them.
Then Kael began to speak. She didn’t know the ancient language, but she understood perfectly well the emotion behind the words. Her heart swelled at the passion with which he spoke. Tears bloomed in her eyes at the glassiness she saw in his. Their hands clutched tighter and the feeling was simply, fundamentally right.
She was so focused on Kael she didn’t even react when he paused and the warriors chanted in a fierce yell and fell to one knee around them.
After a moment, Kael’s deep, fervent voice continued. “I am on my knees before you because we will always be equals, partners in all things. I hold your hand in mine, because we will always be together. I look into your eyes to see into the real you, and let you see into the real me. I pledge to take care of you, protect you, and cherish you for all time.” Shayla’s heart thundered in her chest. A single tear quietly rolled down her cheek. He raised their hands to his mouth and kissed her fingers.
Her lips dropped open and her mouth salivated at the picture of his mouth tasting her. That foreign urge flared within her.
“The ancient blood magic has deemed us a good match. I agree with all my heart. Shayla McKinnon, will you be my mate?”
She swallowed hard and smiled. “Kael the Fair, Son of Iain, Warrior King of the Vampires and Chieftain of Clan MacQuillan, I will be your mate. I, in turn, pledge to take care of you, protect you, and cherish you for all time.”
Intense heat flared between their palms, stung and burned, and then the pain disappeared completely. Kael flipped their hands over and pulled his wrist back enough to reveal new identical knot-shaped marks covering their palms. Unlike the rest of the mating mark, the knot was colored in greens and reds and blues. It was stunning.