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At his touch, Batya awoke completely, and pushed his hands away, scooting closer to Quinlan.
The last of Quinlan’s confusion left as rage flooded his body. He launched across Batya to reach the bastard, but the mastyr just stepped back as the net did its work. Fire burned over his skin and he fell to the ground next to Batya.
He lay trembling, old feelings returning of the powerlessness he’d felt as a child, watching his father, in his drunken rages, pounding on his mother, beating her senseless.
“Mastyr Quinlan, let me give you a taste of what your woman will get when you die. I’ll take her out of this net for extended periods and f**k her till she screams, but it won’t be a gentle scream, because I like to use knives when I work a woman. So eat that, you f**king bastard.”
The vampire walked away laughing.
Quinlan turned his back to the fire and stared at Batya. She lay shivering, so he drew her into his arms, the only real comfort he could give her. When dawn arrived in two or three hours, she’d be left alive to endure torture for who knew how long.
He would die soon, but he’d be leaving Batya behind to endure the whims of a sadist who intended to carve her up while he raped her.
His whole life, all these centuries, he’d been battling evil, but what good was that if he couldn’t save the ones closest to him, the ones he loved?
And there it was, his deepest truth, the one he’d shunned the entire time he’d pursued Batya, that he loved her, that he’d fallen hard maybe from the first time he’d caught that tropical flower scent of hers.
As she shivered again and he pulled her closer still, he thought about all that had happened over the past several weeks and he drew one conclusion. He didn’t care what had brought them together, only that he held her in his arms and he loved her.
He loved her.
She’d gone against the grain, risking realm-censure and disapproval, but she’d lived her own life, gone her own course, and performed an admirable service at the same time. He knew from his own experience that realm-folk needed compassion, something he gave freely in his duties as Mastyr of Grochaire.
But so did Batya. In that way, they matched each other point-by-point.
And he loved her.
He loved her.
But just as this revelation washed over him in a sublime wave of sensation, he glanced at the net that held them captive. How the hell could they escape this prison? The sun would rise in a few hours and he’d fry.
* * * * * * * * *
Batya trembled, but not from cold as she was sure Quinlan thought, but from a rage so pure she could hardly think.
How dare that piece of shit vampire fondle her br**sts.
Yes, rage ruled her right now, but not a new rage, something very old that had lived in her for most of her life, from the day she’d seen that Invictus pair kill a whole family of elves.
Those images had burned in her soul all her long-lived life, eventually driving her to live outside of Grochaire, to create a better life in Tennessee.
Yet here she was, drawn back into the fray by the strange ability she possessed to serve a mastyr vampire with her blood. Even now, even with death on her heels, her heart labored because she sensed Quinlan’s need.
She wished so much that she wasn’t a blood rose, but she couldn’t help that.
Another chill swept through her that had nothing to do with how cold it was in this mountain forest meadow. Rage, yes, but something more.
She focused within herself and recognized that her battle frequency had come alive, the one that Quinlan had tapped into, giving him enough power to escape Lebanon with a woman under each arm.
Quinlan. He’d surprised her at every turn. She’d thought so little of him, that except for his dedication to serving Grochaire, he was little more than eye-candy.
Now, as he held her and rubbed her back, all his actions of the past several days had served her or Lorelei or his brigade. He was one of the most generous men she’d ever known.
Her chest constricted and tears rushed to her eyes. She didn’t want her time with Quinlan to end. She’d worked so hard to separate herself from Grochaire, yet in the end, she had fallen in love with the ruler himself.
She blinked, aware that she’d just used the ‘L’ word.
Sweet Goddess, she loved Quinlan, with her whole heart, with every inch of her body and every tremor of her soul.
She loved him.
Sliding her arms around him, she hated the thought that in a few hours the sun would rise and she’d lose him forever.
She couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t die now. They’d barely gotten to know each other. “I love you, Quin. I just didn’t know it, but I think maybe I fell hard when you walked in wearing that red-sequined Mardis Gras shirt.”
He chuckled, his hand still massaging her back. “I love you, too. I never thought this would happen for me. I didn’t deserve it.”
She drew back and looked into his eyes, caressing his face. “You idiot, no man deserves love more than you. I’ve seen the truth of who you are, that every action of yours is built on serving your people. I just didn’t get it until you took care of both Lorelei and myself. You could have left us anywhere along the way.”
He looked shocked. “No, I couldn’t have. Don’t even think it.”
Her heart melted. “There, you see? You’ve just made my point.” She kissed him and set up an enthrallment shield. The last thing she’d let those f**king wraith-pairs see was the affection she felt for Quinlan.
* * * * * * * * *
Quinlan pulled her close and once again that powerful sensation filled his chest, but this time he recognized the source—his love for Batya had taken him over.
He loved her. He let this truth flow through him, swell his chest, his heart, his mind until his mating vibration came alive and reached for her.
She opened her frequency in return and he let his love flow into her. She moaned softly, rolling on top of him, and kissing him. Your vibration isn’t like before.
I want you to feel my love, Batya, that this isn’t a small thing for me.
You fill me up, Quin. I’ve never been so happy, even caught in this net, I’ve never known such joy.
She drew back and looked down at him, her lovely hazel eyes tear-drenched, yet she smiled. “I love you so much.”
He nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
A new force rose inside him. He let go of the past, of his feelings of unworthiness, barely recognized in his own life, and he opened himself to this woman, to love, to believing himself worthy of this kind of happiness.
